It was a bright morning in late December, shortly before New Year and the sun shone bightly and icy on he low hanging early morning mists around Ottery St. Cathpole, Devon.
Arthur Weasley liked doing things the Muggle way, so instead of using a cleaning charm he brushed his teeth avidly looking out of the bathroom window in the first floor if his family house, the Burrow.
Through the open window the chilly air of the morning watching the gnomes flit through the garden.
Arthur felt more happy than he had in a long time.
That's what finding his youngest son did to you.
He spat the foam from his mouth and cleaned face and toothbrush with water. Then he leaned out of the open window with a smile enjoying the morning quietness.
The Burrow has always been a lively place, calm moments were precious.
Down stairs his wife was making breakfast and she heard her talking...probably with one of his many grandchildren that arrived in the morning, when their parents had to work.
Molly loved teaching the children...Arthur sometimes thought she'd been a good teacher of she hadn't become a mother of seven. For sure she was intelligent enough and she was an extraordinary witch! Her brightness was what made him fall in love with her back then.
Sometimes he felt bad for making her stay at home, but then he saw her smile happily at their children and grandchildren and he thought...perhaps there were many ways to be happy.
Just because one dream didn't work out, didn't mean that you weren't happy with your life.

Arthur's thoughts moved back to his youngest son.
Ron.
The first time he'd seen him close since a decade was on the afternoon of 24th December. He wanted to get some fresh air and went out of the full house of family in Rue to beach outside the village.
It had been pretty cold and it was raining again.
The sea was not to be seen, the tide was low and Arthur didn't see humans except if a few people far away.
He walked through the sand and the the salty wind and the rain felt nice on his skin.
After a while he sat down on one of the big boulders at the foot of the dyke and looked at the sea.
Contrary to what Percy told them Ron actually seemed to be very aware of them and tried to talk with them separately, trying to find out more about them, about himself. This strategical manoeuvring was exactly what Arthur expected from his youngest son.
Ron had always been a bit of a hothead, but when he wanted to reach a goal he was extremely methodical and planned carefully. A behaviour that Arthur knew well from his wife.
Ron was a lot like his wife when it comes to his personality...it was better not to tell him though...most boys don't like to be told that they resemble their mother.
A quiet creaking behind him let him turn around.

Ron was obviously used to the area. He easily find the the right places to set his feet and was surprisingly elegant when he jumped down to the bottom of the dyke.
"Can I sit beside you, M'sieur." he said with a smile that was half hidden by the broad collar of his windcheater.
Arthur nodded and sat down again observing how the younger man leaned against the boulder beside him and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"not the best weather for a stroll. I think père Noël will have a difficult time tonight when delivers presents. There'll be a storm." Ron muttered.
"Well we'll leave him an extra cookie as a thank you..." smiled Arthur and then faced the grey sky. He heard Ron laugh then they got quiet for a while.

"I've tried to find out more about where I came from. But it was difficult. It seems like a just came out of nowhere." Arthur could here the frustration in his son's voice.
"Even though I have plenty of scars I found no medical records. I took a ferry and asked the police in Dover but couldn't help me either since there were no records of me or any family members...so I followed the only trace that seemed to be viable." there was a small grin on his face.
"My English accent."
The strollers down the beach came closer. Arthur could see that they were both carrying something big and heavy...perhaps a bucket or something.
Ron continued while Arthur watched the two people coming closer.
"I went to the university on Oxford and asked a linguist...uhm~ that someone who's a specialist for language-stuff...if they could give me a place where people speak the same English dialect as me. They did a lot of tests...probably more than they needed, but it's not like I could have said no...and then they said they believed that I speak a Devon dialect."
"When was that?" asked Arthur not taking the eyes the two people that came closer from the beach. They were both pretty small.
"Around half a year after Fred and I arrived here. I left him with Jan, who's a good friend of mine, when I went to Britain. I didn't want to have problems with the officials...the social worker still had an eye on us and I didn't want to give them any reasons to take the child from me." answered Ron and and the told " So I went to Devon and started to search in the archives of all kind of villages and cities, I was about to give up, when I finally found something in a newspaper."
Arthur got distracted my the sound of Ron rummaging in pockets of his windcheater until he found his wallet and pulled out the dirty copy of a newspaper article from the year 1971.
the photo showed a crowd of people standing around a big whole in the ground, that looked like it came from an explosion.
The people didn't move. It was a Muggle picture, black and white and slightly blurry.
In the background, the were standing two men with very pale skin and big noses that looked like they had red hair, one clearly excited, which was Arthur's brother Bilius, and one holding a child that around a year old. Him and Bill.
He remembered that day.
Bilius had done something incredible stupid Arthur had his co-workers in the Ministry of Magic had been laughing at him for months after that event until they finally got bored of it.
"That's me." Arthur muttered.
Ron nodded.
"It was pretty obvious that there must be some kind of genetical connection...I mean... that guy looks basically like me!" He tipped again the photo."I was excited. I was sure that now I finally would find out more about my past. But the photo was old and no matter who I asked, no one could tell me more about it, so I gave up...thought that perhaps my family just didn't want to be found..."
Arthur nodded.
"We've been searching for you a lot, son. We missed you. Your wife missed you."
Ron looked at him bewildered.
"A wife?! I had...have a wife?"
"is that so shocking." laughed Arthur but stopped when the two people were finallyclose enough, so that he could see who it was.
Two children, a girl that just started to reach puberty and a little boy, that was perhaps nine or ten years old ran towards them, each a big heavy bucket in their hands.
"Henry!" cheered the boy.
"We've got loads of moules!"

As scream from down stairs startled Arthur. He looked around for a moment, confused were he were, then remembered that he was in his bathroom in the Burrow.
Molly was calling him from the kitchen, probably she wanted him to come down for breakfast.
Arthur closed the window and climbed down the stairs.

When he entered the kitchen he found an agitated daughter heavily gesticulating while she told her mother something. His grandson Albus was reading a picture book, while eating his porridge, while Arthur's granddaughter Lily was already finished and played a doll that she must have brought with her.
Next to these two little sunshines the third Potter child, James, looked like a ghost.
He was a bit grey in the face, and there was no sign of the usual mischievous grin of the kid.
His eyes were puffy, like he had cried and over all he just looked plain miserable, stabbing his porridge like it was to blame for bad things in the world.
"Are you angry, little boy." said Arthur sitting down and filling his cup with tea.
"England is stupid. Mum is stupid. And this food tasted horrible. I wanna go home." muttered James rubbing his eyes as if tears threatened to fall again, but he stubborn blinked them away.
""is that so..." said Arthur gentle and ruffled the boy's hair.
"I think you could be little homesick. Do you miss Ro... I mean Henry?" the boy looked up obviously considering if he should trust him with this information, then he nodded.
"You know he'll come? He's not gone...he just needs longer, because magic doesn't work for him. You won't you lose him, when you're nice to your Mum and siblings. He loves you a lot after all." Arthur looked at the child for a moment seeing how the child relaxed. It seemed to him like James wasn't really used to have a woman care for him. Having a mum was new and stressful for the child.
Probably he needed more time to come to terms with that.
"I think you should go take a nap. It is still pretty early and you don't look like you had much sleep tonight, Jamie." Arthur got on his feet and before the boy knew what happened, he'd thrown him over his shoulder and slapped gently on the back of the boy.
"special delivery~!" he hollered, ran out of the kitchen, upstairs and carried the boy to Ron's old bedroom. The boy seemed to be surprised at first, but he giggled happily.
As soon as Jamie's head hit the pillow of Ron's old bed, the boy was asleep. hem ust have been really tired.
Arthur stayed for a moment looking down on the child.
It must be very difficult for the boy, he thought. Even though not biologically, for all the child had been grown up with, Ron was still Jamie's parent and his only family...suddenly being away from your family was probably very scary for a child.
"sleep well, little Jamie."
he mumbled and closed the door a minute later.

moules = mussles