Hello my lovely loves. I'm sorry it's been so long. I did warn a month's absence, but I've been gone twice that, so I apologise.

Hello to my new readers! And thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. If I'd known all I needed was a breakup to generate feedback, I'd have done it long ago! Jokes.

But honestly, it was great to hear from you all. In case you haven't figured it out, this story is going to be a long one. We're eleven chapters in, and still only on the first page of my timeline-summary.

Today's chapter isn't as long as I'd like, but Cheezels told me to give you guys a fix now, and then finish writing the rest of Thursday, rather than trying to finish the whole day and not posting for another week. So here it is, and more will come, hopefully quite soon!

UPDATE: Found that on the site there were some formatting issues that don't appear in my document, so I'm reloading to try and fix it :)

Chapter 11

By the end of October, things were looking up in the Weasley household. Three new jumpers sat on Molly's dresser, and she'd worked her way through half the wool in her knitting basket. Ginny had taken to sitting with her in the afternoons, the rhythmic clacking of two pairs of knitting needles filling the air.

Ginny had decided to add scarves to the traditional Weasley jumper this year. She had yet to perfect the craft, but as Harry and Hermione assured her, it was the thought that counted. Besides, how far wrong could you go with a scarf?

The month had been filled with many pleasant surprises. One of Hermione's favourites had been when she'd come in from the garden to prepare lunch, only to find Molly stirring a pot of soup. They hadn't got a word out of her, but the soup had been delicious. The smile on Molly's face had been even better.

She joined them for lunch every day, and even went with Ginny to the Ottery St Catchpole for a day shopping. She'd retired to her room as soon as they'd arrived home, but the girls were more than willing to call it a win.

– A Road Less Travelled –

While Molly still hadn't made it to a family meal, George had become the semi-regular mealtime entertainment.

"Hermione?" Mr Weasley said, looking up from his bowl.

"Hmm?" Hermione responded, one eye still on the book in her hands.

"Will George be joining us for breakfast?"

Hermione paused, calculating. "Well, it's Thursday, so I imagine, the green suit will make an appearance at dinner. We're not due for a breakfast visitation for… three days?" she asked Ginny.

"He had breakfast with us Monday, so it'll be Saturday. I expect the Orb will provide a conversation starter tomorrow morning, though. It does seem to like Fridays."

"You know," Ron said, "Fridays used to be my favourite day of the week. Last day before the weekend."

"Now you have to spend the whole day on high alert, just waiting for the other shoe to drop." Harry finished, shuddering.

"Gee," Ginny said in mock sympathy. "I wonder what that must feel like, wondering who George's target would be. That must be horrible. Thank goodness it's only on Fridays."

"What's got her goat?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Ginny and Hermione spend all day every day in this house," Percy said. "They're always targets, Ron."

"Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it?" Ginny agreed.

"Why don't you get out of the house for a bit, try something new?" Harry suggested, rubbing his thumb over his fiancé's hand.

"I'm sorry, are you suggesting we leave George alone in the house unsupervised?" Ginny asked, incredulous.

"He's not a puppy, Ginny," Percy piped up. "Leaving him alone for a bit won't hurt him."

"But it may very well hurt us," Hermione said.

"Can you imagine what he'd get up to, given complete, unrestricted access to the entire house?" Ginny added. The girls shuddered.

"Actually," Hermione mused, "we have two big, strong Aurors to look after us…"

Harry and Ron gulped.

"That's it! We're going out for the day, and we're taking Molly with us. We'll be back around seven, after you boys have declared the house clear. Make sure dinner's ready."

"It's pasta tonight. If you need help, the cookbooks are in the kitchen. Ingredients are in the pantry. Try not to burn the house down. We renewed the fire wards in the kitchen, but knowing you two…"

The girls looked at each other, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Good luck!"

And with that, they rose and walked upstairs, giggles floating behind them.

Percy turned to face Harry and Ron. "Well, you've really done it now."

"Us?" Ron glared. "This was all your idea."

"Well, boys, I'm afraid I'm going to be late for work. And given recent events, I think I'll be home sometime after seven."

"Me too," Percy said following his father to the fireplace. "Best of luck. We'll help undo the damage as much as we can."

– A Road Less Travelled –

"Oh, it's a lovely colour, but I'm not sure that the line of the dress works."

"Yeah, well, don't imagine it on me, imagine it on you and… Fleur or whoever."

"Fleur?"

"I don't know, I haven't thought about bridesmaids yet. What do you think, Mum?"

Molly's expression didn't change other than a faint crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"I agree, Mum, it's a wonderful dress."

"No."

Ginny and Hermione froze. Ginny glanced at Hermione. She tried again, hoping for another reaction. "Beautiful dress?"

"No, dear." Molly's voice was hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat, and headed over to a rack, flipping through dresses. "Try this one."

Ginny walked over slowly, as if to a startled animal. "That one? Are you sure? Chiffon was never really my thing…"

Molly gave her a look, one Ginny had been trained from birth to respond to.

"Hermione," Ginny called. "You get to try this one."

"I was wondering about that," Hermione agreed. "Remind me again why you were trying on bridesmaids dresses?"

"Because you guys get to wear colour, and I don't, so I'm enjoying it while I can. Also, we need to make sure nothing clashes with my hair."

"Oh, no," the shop girl simpered, arriving from the back storeroom. "You can make anything go with auburn. You just need enough confidence!"

Ginny picked up a lock of her hair, twirling it through her fingers. On anyone else, the gesture would have been cute. On Ginny, it just looked threatening. "First of all, this isn't auburn. I could work with auburn. This is pure, unadulterated red. The colour of burning carrots. And it doesn't matter how much confidence I have –"

"Enough to sink a ship," Hermione muttered to Molly, who smiled.

"– there are some things that will never work with red hair. Pink. Lavender. Most shades of red. Lime green."

"You were thinking of lime green bridesmaids dresses?" Hermione interrupted.

"What? No!"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "George will be heart broken."

Ginny pulled a face and turned to the shop girl. "We'll call you if we need you… uh… Saffron." She snatched the dress from the spluttering girl's hands, and shoved it at Hermione. "There you go, you've to two to try now! Shoo!" She hustled Hermione towards the dressing room, then sat next to her mother, taking her hands. "Now Mum, tell me more about this dress…"

– A Road Less Travelled –

"So what are you thinking for your dress?" Hermione asked as they sat down for lunch.

"Hmm?" Ginny was lost in thought. "I'm not sure. I hadn't really thought about it much. I haven't had a chance to think about any of it, really. It's so nice being able to get out of the house, I just latched onto the first idea that popped into my head."

"O-kay," Hermione said slowly. "Well, do you know what style you're thinking? Ball gown? A line? Mermaid, trumpet, princess?"

"Something completely clingy," Ginny said firmly.

Molly spluttered, and glared at her only daughter. Over her dead body.

"Just looking for a reaction, Mum," Ginny reassured with a smile. "Can't have you backsliding after all the progress we've made today. Besides," she said, turning to Hermione, "I have no idea what you just said. How can you wear a mermaid?"

Hermione blinked. "That's it," she said, tucking into her sandwich. "After lunch we're buying bridal magazines and a notebook. You're going to learn today."

– A Road Less Travelled –

Two heads, one red and one black, rose to peer through the window of the kitchen door.

"Do you think it's safe?" One whispered to the other.

"There's a finite number of entrances," the other replied, "and George knows them all. Nothing is safe."

Harry and Ron, turned and slumped against the door, sinking to the ground. "On the bright side," Ron said, his voice full of optimism, "it's only ten past five. He's only had…" he calculated, "eight hours… unsupervised… with complete access to everything…" He turned to Harry. "We're dead."

– A Road Less Travelled –

"Percy! Arthur! What are you two doing here?" Dedalus Diggle called across the Leaky Cauldron, making his way to the table where the two Weasleys sat.

"Dedalus!" Arthur replied, pulling out a chair. "It's good to see you. How have you been?"

"Diggle," Percy said, shaking the man's hand.

"Percy. I'm fine, just fine," Diggle said to Arthur, sitting. "Hestia and I have only been back a couple of months. Spent most of the year hiding with Harry's relatives. I tell you, I've yet to meet a man more unpleasant than Harry's uncle. His aunt and cousin warmed up to us, eventually, but that man, my goodness." He shook his head. "What are the two of you doing here? I'd have thought you'd be at home. I heard about Molly. I'm so sorry. I'd have been around to visit, but the others thought it best to give you some space, not overwhelm her."

"She's doing better, I think," Arthur said. "Ginny and Hermione took her out for the day."

"That's why we're here and not at home," Percy said. "George spent the whole day alone at home. Merlin knows what he's got up to. Harry and Ron, as our resident Aurors, have been tasked with clearing the house. Kingsley thinks it'll be a great training exercise for them. He's even threatened to bring George in as a Ministry consultant. Speaking of which, I'd better go check on them. Please excuse me. I won't be long."

As Percy made his way to the door, he heard his father begin to quiz Dedalus Diggle on his time living with Muggles.

– A Road Less Travelled –

"You go first," Ron said, nudging his best friend.

"Me? Why me?" Harry was less than impressed with the suggestion.

"You got three marks more than me in Entry and Stealth. You're more qualified for the job."

"That just means you need more practice!"

"You're the Chosen One!"

"I choose you!"

There was a pop behind them, and before either of them knew what was happening,

practice!"eans you need more." in Entry and Stealth. you'Diggle on his time living with Muggles.

Harry and Ron found themselves thrust through the door and into the house. Neither would ever admit to the noises that they didn't make. It was something similar to a squeal.

"Right," said Percy, locking the door behind the two. "I'd call that progress."

And with that, he Disapparated, heading back to the Leaky Cauldron.

– A Road Less Travelled –

"Hyah!" Ron leaped around the doorframe. He glanced around the room, then yelled "Clear!"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, entering the room.

"Yep."

"Positive?"

"Positive."

"There are absolutely no curses, jinxes, charms, pranks, or anything George-related in this room?"

"Absolutely nothing," Ron said with confidence.

"Ron… have you actually touched anything?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"What? No! Why would I? It might be dangerous!" Ron looked panicked.

"Have you scanned the room?" Harry asked.

"No, but I –" Ron stopped as he felt something warm rush past him. He looked at Harry, who shook his head.

"No curses, and the spell didn't pick up anything malicious. I ended up giving up on George's room. The whole thing lit up like a Christmas tree with every spell I tried. Surely there's something we could use that won't react to prank magic? I mean, I know they can be used as nefarious purposes, but it makes searching a kid's room a bit hit and miss."

"You've got to remember," Ron said, "no one like Fred and George have ever existed. Zonko's used to be the big thing, and he was lucky if he brought out the amount of stuff in a decade that Fred and George came up with in their fifth year. We're just not equipped to deal with the sheer pranking power of my brothers. Brother." Ron cleared his throat, and Harry put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Anyway," Ron said, once he'd regained control of his voice, "this was the last room. I am forced to conclude that George didn't do anything today."

"At least, not to us," Harry agreed.

"Not that we've found."

"But we checked everywhere. We can't have missed anything, can we?" Harry said.

"No, no," Ron said in a slightly desperate tone of voice. "Of course we haven't."

"Should we call the others home?" Harry asked. "Now that we know the house is safe?"

Ron shook his head. "They said they wanted dinner. We can't call them back before we've got food ready."

There was a small noise off to their left. Both of them jumped, wands drawn.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked.

"Nope. Didn't hear anything. There was nothing to hear. The house is perfectly safe." Ron said, gripping Harry's arm tightly.

"Right," Harry said, checking his watch. "It's quarter to six. They said they'd be home soon after seven. That's plenty of time. Pasta is easy."

"Is it?" Ron asked as they hurried down the stairs. "I've never had to cook before."

"No problem," Harry said. "I used to cook for my aunt and uncle all the time."

– A Road Less Travelled –

"Harry," Ron said. "Exactly how long has it been since you cooked for your aunt and uncle?"

"A few years," Harry said, finishing cutting parsley. "Why?"

"It's just that, when my mum cooks pasta, it doesn't generally run away from her," Ron said, poking the pasta with a wooden spoon. It scuttled behind the spice rack.

Harry turned from the cutting board, waving the heavy smoke away from his face. "I'm sure it'll be fine," he said. "Enough herbs and no one will be able to tell."

"I don't think there are enough herbs in all of England to save this mess," Ron said, trying to catch the life they'd accidentally made. "I'm not sure you can save that pot either."

"It'll be fine," Harry repeated, trying to stir the parsley into the spaghetti sauce. His attempts were thwarted by the rock solid nature of the sauce.

A noise came from the other side of the kitchen. The boys flinched.

"What was that?" Harry asked. "Was that George?"

"From in the cupboard?"

"One of his inventions, then?"

"It's probably just the pasta monster," Ron said, his false-confident demeanour betrayed by the squeak in his voice.

"Yep, that's it," Harry agreed, still not moving. "It's perfectly safe."

"Go check then."

"You go."

"I feel like we've had this argument before."

"Together then?"

"Together."

They spray forward and ripped open the cupboard door. A single strand of spaghetti lay on the shelf.

"It was the pasta monster," Ron sighed, shutting the door firmly. "See, nothing to be afraid of."

"Exactly," Harry said, headed back to the stove. "Here, try the food."

"What?"

"Go on, try it."

"I have to catch it first," Ron griped.

"Not the pasta, the sauce."

"Harry, if it can be used to build houses in Africa, it cannot be called a sauce," Ron said, backing away from the spoon his best friend was shoving in his face. "You try it."

"I'm not putting that in my mouth."

"But you'd feed it to my sister? You'd feed it to me?"

"Fine," Harry said, sighing. "We'll have to come up with a Plan B."

"If only we could get someone else to cook for us, without telling the girls," Ron said.

"Takeout. Great idea," Harry said, checking his watch. "Gringotts closes in ten minutes. Let's go."

"What?" Ron asked, as he was dragged towards the fireplace.

"We have to exchange money," Harry said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. "Gringotts Bank!"

– A Road Less Travelled –

Drop us a line, let us know what you think! Shamelessly plugging Cheezels' Real Life Sucks again. Once I've posted the net chapter of this, we're working on her next chapter, so head over there for a soon-to-be-updated story!