DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters. Rowling brought them into this world. I am both jealous and grateful.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yay! The third story in Weasley Wednesday! I'm surprised I got this part up so quickly after the last one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the other parts. (I'll try to get to more Weasleys later on.) Like the others, this isn't very long, just a vignette about the Weasley's clock which I think is really cool. It's not really as funny as the other two. It's more of a mock epic or something. A lot of reviewers said that they wanted me to be nicer to Percy. He's not prominently featured in this fic but I hope it'll satisfy you that I don't completely hate him. (That spot in my heart is reserved for Wormtail! Loser.)

THANKS: To Docky, Elektra(EEK!) and, again, to everyone who reviewed. :)

* * * * *

It was an abnormally cold, summer evening when Arthur Weasley brought it home. "Bill! Charlie! Help me with this!" he called as he tried to carry the heavy object over the threshold of the Burrow. His two sons bounded down the stairs. They were little help to their father; they just gawked at the strange object he had chosen to bring home. Arthur fell over several times, but they just stared.

"What are we going to do with that?" Molly Weasley demanded appearing from the kitchen. Her husband brought so many strange objects into their home. She didn't know what he could be thinking. Where were they going to put such a monstrous, useless object?

Probably right next to the slug-shaped, crawling dinner plates that he promised me the kids would love, she thought bitterly.

"What is it, Dad?" Young Charlie asked in awe.

The mighty item appeared to be an ordinary, grandfather clock. It was intricately designed and stood almost twice as tall as Charlie. He stared up at it in wonder. For the first time, he noticed that clock had no hands and no numbers on its face. He turned to his father, hoping for an explanation. Arthur didn't notice. He carefully put the clock down in a prominent position in the living room. He smiled proudly. The others looked back at him with blank looks, what the heck was it?

Molly glared at the offensive clock. It didn't match any of the other furniture and stuck out like a sore thumb. Anyone who visited the Burrow wouldn't be able to help but notice the large structure. She folded her hands over her chest, making a mental note to move it to somewhere less visible while Arthur was at work the next day.

"What does it do?" Bill asked excitedly.

"Watch," Arthur answered seemingly pleased with his son's question. He turned to Molly and smiled at her, not noticing her dark scowl.

The clock sat inanimately for a few moments as if settling into its surrounding and getting a feel for the Burrow. (Molly tapped her foot impatiently.) Then there was a slight movement in the center of its face. A single, gold knob poked its way through the clean, white surface like a chicken hatching from an egg. The knob began to branch out into nine separate hands. Each hand spun around the clock by itself revealing nine names engraved in the gold. One by one, the hands tested each location listed where the time should be, looking for its Weasley. Eventually all nine hands landed on 'home'.

Arthur turned around and grinned expectantly at his family. "Cool!" the boys cried in unison. Molly rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen. Arthur stared after her curiously. What was wrong with her? His concern didn't last long, because his sons quickly regained his full attention.

"Where'd you get it, Dad?" Bill asked.

"The Minister of Magic himself gave it to me," he puffed out importantly. "I did him a favor."

"Wazzit?" Little Fred and George called from the stairs. They were still in their pajamas and were rubbing sleep out of their eyes. The boys were supposed to be in bed now, but obviously heard the commotion and came downstairs not wanting to miss any action.

"Come here!" Arthur motioned them over happily. "Look!" He pointed at his prized clock.

The boys scrambled forward for a closer look. Each twin tried to jump up for a closer look at his own hand. It didn't work since they were still so short. Arthur hoisted the twins into his arms allowing them to peer at the intricate design of his new possession.

Molly chose that moment to return to the living room. She wanted to tell Arthur about something she had read in the Daily Prophet. "Fred! George!" She yelped when she saw her babies out of bed at this time of night. The newspaper article was quickly forgotten.

Arthur turned to look at her, a twin still held under either arm. He didn't see the harm in letting them see his new clock and wondered why his wife was so upset. "What is it, Molly?" he asked innocently.

"They are supposed to be in bed," she seethed. Fred and George protested. They were big boys now, after all. "GO!" she yelled angrily. The twins promptly shut up and hustled back up the stairs into their warm beds. Molly turned to glare at her husband. "I hope you didn't wake the other children too," she turned to go up the stairs apparently to make sure that Percy, Ron and Ginny were fast asleep. She shot one more evil look at Arthur before disappearing.

Arthur turned to Bill and Charlie and shrugged.

* * * * *

The next day, Molly kept her promise to herself and moved the clock into the dark hallway that lead from the kitchen to the door to the basement. Practically no one could see it there and she was glad for that. She hoped she could forget it was there, but every now and again, while she was making dinner, she'd throw a angry glance over her shoulder. It was a compulsion. She wanted to get rid of it and resented its presence.

Occasionally the boys would run in from the living room to have a look at the clock. They mostly used it to see if their father was at work or coming home. This only served to irritate Molly further. Arthur usually apparated home, so the clock didn't give much warning anyway. It seemed so useless to Molly. Yet Arthur and the children insisted that it was "cool."

Molly began to chop some carrots irritably. Outside, the kids were playing happily in the summer sun. Ron and Ginny were playing some childish game on the front stoop where Molly could keep an eye on them. Percy was sitting next to them, helping Ginny to beat Ron without him knowing. He kept whispering instructions in her ear when Ron wasn't looking. Bill and Charlie were trying to catch frogs in the frog pond. Fred and George were God knows where. Molly decided she didn't want to go look for them. It would put her in a sour mood. She threw another look at the clock. All the hands except for Arthur's said 'home.' That was good enough for her. As long as the twins weren't in 'mortal peril' she was happy.

Arthur was still at work. He should be home any minute now, she thought. The meal was almost ready. As if on cue, Arthur appeared in the kitchen and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Hullo, dear!"

Molly smiled and blushed deeply. See?, she thought, I don't need that dumb clock to tell me when he's coming home.

"Daddy!" Ginny shrieked happily as she ran from the stoop into her father's arms. She was still at that age that when Daddy came home from work it was an exciting event that merited hugs and kisses. The boys remained indifferent.

"Hello, princess." Ginny giggled as Arthur lifted her high into the air.

Molly returned to her task. "Arthur, go tell the boys dinner is almost ready. And find out what the twins are up to. They've been awful quiet today." Arthur nodded. When the twins were quiet, that meant a storm was brewing.

"What do you say, Ginny, want to go find your brothers?" Ginny scrambled down from her father's arms. She led him, bending over nearly on all fours in an attempt to hang onto her tiny hand, outside.

Soon Molly could hear the twins laughing. They were joking with their father, whose laughter soon followed, like he was their friend from school. He never could scold the children. He was a big softie. But he'd protect them with his life. Molly had a sudden maternal pang; she needed to check on her babies. Well Arthur had his eye on three of them, but where were the other children? Molly glanced over to where Percy and Ron were still sitting. Ron was trying to figure out how Ginny had beat him. Percy was trying to look innocent.

But where were Bill and Charlie? She couldn't remember the last time she had heard their voices coming from outside. Without realizing what she was doing she looked behind her at the clock. Molly let out a scream that would make a banshee jealous. Everyone else ran inside.

"What is it, Molly?" a panicked Arthur asked. She didn't answer, just stared dumbstruck at the clock. He followed her eyes and gasped.

Eight hands on the clock were happily perched at 'home' but Charlie's hand was pointing straight upward to 'mortal peril.'

Before anyone else could speak, Molly disapparated from the kitchen leaving the food preparations forgotten. The rest of the family looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

Molly reappeared outside of the Burrow by the frog pond where Charlie and Bill had been playing. She searched frantically for her boys. Bill had his back turned to Molly. He was chasing a runaway frog. He hadn't noticed his mother yet and was completely unaware that anything was wrong. Her eyes combed the scene. But where was Charlie?

Molly felt her stomach drop into her feet. Charlie was laying face down in the shallow water. (A frog sitting atop his head released a loud ribbit.) He wasn't moving. She shrieked again and dove into the filthy pond after him.

Bill turned around finally noticing that something was up. "Wazzit?"

"Charlie! Charlie!" Molly yelled as she yanked her son up from the muddy waters. He was limp in her arms. Charlie opened one bleary eye and spit up some water. "Mum?" he asked, confused.

She didn't hear him. "Ennervate!" she cried out frantically.

"What happened?" Bill asked as he came running up. The rest of the family appeared on the front lawn. They were all about to ask the same thing. All they saw was a very wet Molly clutching Charlie, who was extremely embarrassed, to her and sobbing hysterically.

"Your little brother nearly drowned!" she yelled at Bill. Apparently she blamed him for this turn of events. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!"

Bill flushed and looked away under her penetrating eyes. It was Charlie who spoke up. "Honestly, Mum. Bill woulda found me before anything happened. I wasn't under that long. I just slipped..." his voice trailed off and he blushed furiously.

Fred and George choked back giggles. The frog pond was a foot deep on a good day. They were sure that their mother was making a big deal out of nothing. Charlie looked like he wanted a hole in the Earth to swallow him up. But he couldn't get out of his mother's grasp. She kept kissing him and leaving bright, pink lip marks on his face.

That night at dinner, Charlie sunk down in his chair and tried to avoid eye contact with his family. Bill and the twins kept making fun of him while Molly kept asking him if he was all right and telling him that she was going to keep a closer eye on him from now on. That was just what he wanted: more mom in his life. Charlie chewed his food with a long tooth and took great pains in swallowing. He wasn't hungry but if he told Molly that she'd probably take him to the doctors.

He glared at the clock, blaming the inanimate object for all of his problems, as Molly had earlier that day. It was no longer buried in the poorly lit hallway behind the kitchen, but prominently displayed in the living room. Molly had grown a new affinity for it in the last few hours. She seemed to think it had saved his life.

"I think we've all learned a valuable lesson today," Arthur spoke up trying to find a bright spot in the situation.

"Sometimes the junk you bring home really is useful?" George suggested. Arthur blushed.

"That Charlie isn't as good a swimmer as he says he is?" Fred chirped.

"Frog pond water tastes foul?" Bill winked at Charlie.

Charlie threw down his fork and pushed his chair back. "Where are you going, Charlie dear?" Molly asked surprised at his abrupt movement.

"Bathroom," he grumbled.

"Maybe we should go with you!" Fred piped up.

"Don't want you to fall in," George added.

Charlie's ears turned red. His siblings looked like Christmas had come early, even Percy was laughing at him. Oh, they were never going to let him live this down.

* * * * *

Be kind, rewind - er - review. (Let's face it, I'm a review whore.)