Do stop groaning. Yes, yes, it is me. Back. Again. Sorry sorry. But it was this or study, and even though the exams are only two days away, well, I figure I can waffle my way though, same as usual. Time for our favourite thing ever, the Disclaimer!!!!

Disclaimer: I am JK Rowling and I am here to tell you about the brilliant story I have written. I also created the IR. Yes. Yes. No!! Goldilocks31890 created the IR!!! But I did everything else…. Uh-huh. So. Yeah, I've confused myself, so here we go. I don't actually own the idea, but this is my version of the sixth book, and anyone who steals, if they are stupid enough to want this story and also don't fear the wrath of the IR, yes, well, please do ask permission first, as stealing, like laughing at others pain to their face -behind their back is fine- is wrong!!! No no no!!! Naughty naughty!!

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a table, scrubbed and wooden, and chairs in the middle, with a counter all along the area under the window. This particular window was a great source of light during the day, wide enough for an average height person to fit horizontally in, though nowhere near as tall. It hadn't come with the house, but had been one of the things the head of the family, Ms Weasley, insisted on having.

A very talented Quidditch player in her Hogwarts days, and having even been offered a position on the England squad, she was once very much in love with the dangerous sport. The feeling of hurtling through the air, so out of control, and at the same time also very much in command. There was just something about it that used to make her heart flutter. Six of her seven children also had the love of the sport that had possessed her very soul when she was young. Young and carefree, something she certainly no longer was, and neither were they. It broke her heart to see it. To see the very thing that had woken her up, made her realise that there was more to life than Quidditch, have the same awakening. For her children to be at the pit of despair and have those overwhelming feelings of injustice, almost ten years before she even new the real meaning of grief. Not all of her children were experiencing these emotions, or at least, he wasn't showing it.

That's why the window was there. So she could watch her beloved children play Quidditch. The sport had long since lost its effect on her. She didn't mind watching though, only to see her children play. Playing herself was almost as pointless to her as the idea of allowing Fudge to continue his reign of idiocy.

It was where she stood now, in front of that window, watching the small figures in the distance. Seven of them. All crowned in halos of red hair, two of them blowing lightly in the wind. She did wish Bill would let her cut his hair. Or at least get rid of that bloody fang! But that was the way Bill had always been. Independent. All the eldest children seemed to inherit that characteristic in her family. She herself had been it. Stubborn, strong in her beliefs. She had never been one to cower, especially not if it meant hurting others or for personal gain.

All of the sudden the woman seemed to collapse. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned heavily against the counter. Behind her the dishes seemed to falter for a second, before continuing to wash themselves in the sudsy, sink water. Her eyes filled with tears and a slight sniffle escaped. Almost every single one of her family had inherited the same over protectiveness both she and Arthur had. Fred and George had been banned from Quidditch because of a slight made at the family. Bitterness filled her entirely as she thought of last year's events. Her twin sons were so blatantly carefree, so much so that no one seemed to see the way they were hiding the fact that everyone else was lost. Jokes and pranks. She hated them for what they did. People hid behind them. Acting as though they hadn't a care in the world. But she also loved them, because of Fred and George. The boys were so like her younger brothers. The idea of creating mischief lighted up their faces.

She didn't know why, but, as it often did this last month, her mind jumped to the tenth, unofficial, family member. Harry Potter. Her lips trembled slightly as she remembered the first time she had met him. Almost six years ago on platform 9 and ¾. So small he could have been six, and innocent looking enough too. So polite, he'd made a tender impression on her heart. Every year she had seen him, getting on and off the train, often escorted him with her own son, and every year she couldn't help but see the way his eyes changed. Still polite, timid and looking younger than he should, and his eyes always that same vibrant green, but year-by-year his eyes seemed to dim, the light behind them going out slowly. And maybe it was her imagination, but every time he saw Ron, or Hermione, or even any Weasley, that light, the same light he'd had that first time long ago, would spark. And he would smile, and he truly was as good as her own son. Harry had that affect on many people. Unknown to all of her family, except maybe Arthur, though he didn't say anything, Molly Weasley kept a close eye on all her kids, and Harry. A weekly correspondent of Minerva's, as well as a few of her old Hogwart's teachers, Ms Weasley almost always knew what they were doing even before Dumbledore told her. What had surprised Molly the most, was the way Minerva, who had always taken to every Weasley -though she wouldn't admit it- was so obviously enraptured with the young boy. She would always have the same tight bun, and the cursive writing, but Molly, having known the Transfiguration teacher for quite some time, knew when a smile was being forced back, even when it was in writing. Minerva hadn't been the only one either.

'Percy…' she sighed. He had written to her weekly when he was in Hogwarts. He had been an almost instant fan, though for all the wrong reasons. Where as Ron and Harry formed a tight bond, loyal and lifelong, Percy wrote nothing of the sort, saying it was a 'good job Ron had made friends with such an important person'. He was materialistic to a point, and saw everything at face value. Feelings were something he never had been adept at, which was why Molly had been so surprised when he had announced that he had a girlfriend. He'd never had any friends, other than the other prefects. Too studious for most, much like Hermione, though while Percy was cool and calm about everything, Hermione had a passionate way about her. That was why Ron, Harry and Hermione had such a tight friendship too. All three were deeply passionate and motivated, though not all for the same things. Hermione and her books, she was firmly a feminist, Harry and his bravery; he was passionate about everything a Gryffindor was said to be, from Quidditch to his friends. And Ron. Chess, Quidditch, food. That was what he showed. But, as his mother, Molly knew things. She saw how Ron would stare for hours at a piece of parchment, the back of his ears tinged pink as he tried to think of how to respond to Harry's letters. Or when someone thought to even make a hint towards impure blood, the way his jaw clenched, and his balled up fists were shoved into his pockets. You could see it in Ron, the way he stood, or talked, when he argued, that he was very much a passionate person, he gave off an aura, the same way Harry did. Hermione had no aura to speak of, at first. But once she started talking, she left people in awe with what she had to say. It made Molly proud to see how well the three had grown up together, but it also was one of the reasons she was so worried. While she feared her family's death in the upcoming war, she also feared something much more great. She knew that those three were inseparable, and wherever Harry went, so did the other two. She didn't blame Harry, but she also wanted none of her family, unofficial or not, anywhere near this fight, and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, would be at the very centre of the entire mess. What scared her the most, was she also knew that if Harry or Ron or Hermione were to die, that the remaining two would never recover.

It was a hopeless feeling that Molly utterly despised, and she quickly grabbed an extra cloth from the sink and went over to wipe down the table. The tears were filling her eyes as she thought of her family's chances of getting out entirely alive.

From behind her, the door banged open, giving her quite a start, and she hurriedly brushed at her eyes as Fred and George's boisterous voices filled the kitchen, followed by Bill and Ginny laughing slightly, and Ron and Arthur talking quietly. That sad look was once again in Ron's eyes as she turned around, her own eyes a little red rimmed but other wise perfectly normal. Only her husband seemed to give her a curious glance, to which she responded with a wavering smile.

"Dinner's almost ready," she said, her voice a lot more normal than she felt.

Fred and George cheered loudly, and hurriedly rushed to grab themselves a seat as the table magically set itself. Ron, with less gusto then normal, also grabbed a seat, fighting with Bill for a moment before grabbing another seat, and finally Ginny, too, took her seat.

Ms Weasley quickly went over to take the large assortment of food, from steak and kidney pie, to roast potatoes, off the counter. Arthur came up behind her and whispered slightly to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice timid and cautious, not that she blamed him. Last time she had started screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, last time having been about two days ago.

She nodded quickly, forcing another smile on her face, as she was aware of the odd silence behind her. Her children, Merlin bless them, seemed to have heard or sensed the way she was behaving and had immediately quieted down. Probably thought she had a headache or something, though she wouldn't put it past Fred, George and Bill to have sensed the real reason. She turned around, the pot of roast potatoes before her, and saw them all either duck away, starting conversations with false brightness in their voices. Except for Ginny, who smiled brightly at her, as though encouraging her, and Ron, whose brow was furrowed as he glared at his plate.

Molly took another deep breath, before asking in her usual voice, "Alright, who wants roast pota-" Her voice was cut off as a massive boom shook the entire house, Fred's plate slipping of the table and Ginny screamed.

"What was tha-?" Fred began to ask, but he was cut off as a shrill piercing noise filled the house, ringing for five seconds before immediately cutting out as Arthur waved his wand in an upright and jerking, circle motion. Fear filled Molly's heart as she chokingly put the pot on the table. She ignored her children's voices as she reached into her apron and pulled out a small ring.

"Engorgio," she muttered, waving her wand at it, and the ring grew to about half the size of their table.

"Mum? MUM!" Ron's voice called. "What's happening?" he asked, and it was the desperation in his voice that made her look up.

"Quickly now. Grab the ring you five. We need to leave." She whispered, sounding lost and unsure. 'Where is Arthur,' she couldn't help thinking.

"Why?" Ron asked, and the question brought her snapping back.

"Now! Grab the ring. That's the alarm. NOW!" Her voice was eerily reminiscent of all the times she had yelled at the twins, and everyone immediately jumped forward, knocking over their chairs as the jostled for a good grip of the ring.

"Where's dad?" Ginny asked, her eyes wide and huge, as she looked about, her voice panicky.

"Right here. Let's go," and he also grabbed a hold of the ring, tucking a stack of folders into one of his enlarged pockets.

"Wattlebird," Ms Weasley mumbled, and with one last look at her kitchen, wondering if she'd ever see it again, there was a jerk behind her navel, and the room began to spin.

And the last thing she remembered was the feeling of falling into a bottomless hole, and the squeezing of her heart as Ginny's voice called across the circle, "Where's Charlie?!"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!! I HATE CLIFFIES, DON'T YOU? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. THANKS AGAIN-Oops- sorry. Caps lock off. There we go. Thanks again to the IR. I love you guys!!! Still waiting for someone to offer to be my beta… hinthint. Am I that hopeless? Cause if I am… well, that would explain the size of the IR… hmmmm. Anywho. Lol. What do you think? Good ending or what? Did any of you notice Charlie was missing from the beginning? I didn't make it too obvious, just at the beginning when I said that part about her watching the seven of them from the window, and that she wished Bill would cut his hair. I was going to hint that so maybe some of you panicked and thought Percy had just rejoined the Weasley's, and that I had left it all out!!! HAAAA. Hardly as I think it's the best scene ever. I haven't written it yet, but I'm sure JK Rowling has and I'm sure it rocks. I didn't plan on leaving Charlie behind, but I thought, meh, like the IR will care, and anywho, lets finally get some action in here. Cause I know action is what you all crave, my dear IR, as I made you, and also, well, I thought, what the heck, lets leave someone behind, it'll be an adventure! Poor Charlie, he just got the axe, or did he? Stay tuned my invisible friends, for there will be more soon. But first I must go feed the purple coat wearing pigs, as not only are they my inspiration, but they are hungry and one of them just keeled over… and he's not breathing. Oh well, more food for Jasenta -she's the one with matching nail polish- she's my favourite. First person to review, and I don't count, gets a pig named after them, and everyone else just gets a cookie. Haahaa, you poor suckers you.

For last chapters reviwers:

asterix531: Thanks a bunch. Glad you liked the description, as one person said there was too much.... anywho. thankyou. pity you don't like the OC. I hated it to at first, I used to groan when my friend said she was going home to watch it, I was all, but that's soooooo crap.... I will never, EVER say that again. Hope you like this chapter too!

anniePADFOOT: Thanks annie. Harry is not insane yet, but it kinda looks like he's travelling that way, doesn't it? But really, he's just mentally disturbed. Ha. No, not yet. Red is a cool colour, captivating and very symbolic, which is one of the reasons I used it last chappy, and JK probably uses it too. When you see a colour, assed to a scary image, the image can fade, but if its a vibrant colour like red, well, it seems to almost seep into your mind and just sit there behind the lids of your eyes, waiting... as you can see, I got Harry's craziness from personal experience. lol.

Brandybuckbeak: You rock!!! You were my first reviewer for this chappy, and you are my new best friend!!! yay! sorry to creep u out... it happens. Opinions are only good if there truthful though, remeber that, and I hope you are recovering quite adequately.... heeheehee. theres a bit of 18th century snob talk, or so I like to think in my severely damaged and polluted mind...

On to those who reviewed my first chapter but didn't get a shout out cause I had already updated. Sorry.

Mika: Cool. I'm glad it freaked you out, that was the effect I had hoped for. I also hope you will read the second and third chappy.

brilliant-author16: Thankyou!!!! As you can see, I have followed your advice and kept writing!!!!

AND FINALLY!!!!!!!! One of my very faithful reviewers, anniePADFOOT, has a simply marvelous story, called Blood In My Eye. The link's in my favourites. Everyone should go there right now!! What the hell are you doing here reading my crap story when you could be reading Lily and James goodness, anniePADFOOT style?! GOOOO!!! Oh, and here's the summary for it.

The second you're born, you start dying. You die more & more each day; you know it's going to happen, just not in what way. And Lily is killing James. Not his physical body… but him, inside. JamesLily

Now does that sound fantabulous or what?! GO READ!!!

Also, anyone who wants to be my beta.... feel free. Cause someone has to organise my thoughts for me. It may take me longer to update... but meh? No one will notice anyways...I'm trying to sound pathetic... is it working? Also, I want to say a temporary good-bye to Elven Dagger, and Solo Flora, who have indeed, gone to a better place, and joined the IR. The Lord will lead his sheep home, or something wise and prolound like that.

Oh, and lastly, how the fuck do you make double spaced lines and indents and stuff? cause mine just aint working?!