Disclaimer: "I own the entire world of Harry Potter. Everything is mine! How dare others write about my characters as if it were me!" JK Rowling said as she looked at all of the fanfics on the Internet without a disclaimer. Just to make sure that I don't get sued, I don's own anything that she's come up with, unless I write it first... heh heh heh.

A/N: I have a very unhealthy obsession with redheads. I tried to dye my naturally blonde hair a beautiful red about 6 years ago. It ended up the ugly color of a brand new penny. All shiny and brassy and... horrible. Anyway, if you didn't catch it, the prologue was written to be in present time and now our gorgeous, redheaded main character is reminiscing. I really hope that people like this fan fic. I think that I'm going to enjoy writing it!

Oak Leaves

#1: The Fort

"I'm telling mum and you'll get it this time!" a furious Percy Weasley yelled behind him as he scampered across the front yard and up into the house, scattering chickens along the way. His threat was carried by the wind to his identical brothers, who were laughing manically at the moment, rolling around and gasping for breath.

"Fred!" George managed to squeak before gulping in more air. "I – I think we'd better hide!"
"You're right." His brother agreed with a nod. "Mum'll have our heads for this one!"

The two boys, clad in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, ran across the length of the front yard, disturbing the now irate hens who attempted to peck at their feet. They headed toward the towering oak trees that grew to the left of the Burrow

Fred and George expertly leaped over the little brook that fed into the pond of the Burrow's back yard and leaned against the trunk of a tree as they caught their breath. Over the past three months, since Molly Weasley had begun to allow the 6-year-old twins to explore the Weasley-owned land surrounding the Burrow. Keeping the two rambunctious boys at her side while keeping track of little Ron and Ginny all throughout the previous winter had been difficult enough. Enduring a summer of the same was out of the question. To solve her problem, Molly had equipped the twins with enough supplies to being a fort after making them agree not to abuse any animals or siblings.

The boys now crept towards their ramshackle fort and crawled through the opening and into the fort. With walls and a roof made of branches and covered with leaves, like the Burrow itself, the fort was obviously held up my magic. Their father had come the previous Saturday and enchanted it so that it was light inside, it didn't get too warm, and so that it wouldn't collapse on the little boys.

"We're in trouble, George." Fred said, stating the obvious. There was a quiver in his voice and his bright brown eyes were shining with tears.

"Yeah," George agreed as he peeked out of a little window of their fort, watching the Burrow.

A loud, wailing cry came from within the kitchen, which could have come from none other than Percy. This was followed by a loud crash from the kitchen. Moments later, Molly Weasley appeared in the doorway, hair wild and a wooden spoon clenched in her hand. Behind her was a bespectacled, cowering Percy Weasley, whose hair was tousled and face was tear-streaked.

"He's such a tattle-tale!" George squeaked as he crouched down from the window. Molly shot an angry glare in the direction of the fort before spinning on her heel and slamming the pine-green front door. "We're really in for it now. It's not like we meant for Percy to walk into the gnome trap. He just happened to step onto it. He didn't have to chase us. We would've given him his glasses back."

'Mum'll never let us come home!" Fred said with a snivel. "We'll be thrown out of the wizard world and we won't go to 'Ogwards like Bill 'n Charlie and we'll be – " Fred paused as sheer terror overcame him. "We'll have to be muggles!" he finished dramatically as he flailed his arms about wildly.

"You're being silly. Mum'll be mad but she won't get rid of us." George said, more as reassurance for himself than for his brother.

"You dunno that. Charlie said that Bill said that Percy had a twin and he wrecked Mum's flowers, so Mum disowneded him!"

"Oh." was all that George said, sitting down onto the hard ground and pulling his knees up to his chest. Both boys were now smudged with dirt and had bits of leaves stuck in their wavy red hair.

Dusk was setting in on Ottery St. Catchpole when little George Weasley awoke with a start. Looking around, he spotted his brother asleep on the floor a few steps away. Confused, George got up and took in his surroundings. He was in their fort, and it was much later than he remembered.
"Fred!" George said, poking his brother in the side.

"Orhmhump." Fred replied without opening his eyes.

"Fred!" George repeated and shoved his brother, waking him up.

"Ouch! Hey! What d'ya do that for?" Fred whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"Fred, I'm hungry. Why 're we here? Let's go eat."

"Hang on," the two boys were nearly to the front stoop of the Burrow when George stuck out a hand and pulled his brother back by the collar. "We can't go in there!"

"Why not? I smell Mum's sausage!"

"Because Mum hates us, remember?" a wide-eyed George said.

"Do you – do you think she'll feed us before she gets rid of us?"

"Erm, I dunno. If we go in there though, she might put us in the attic with the ghoul!"

Taken aback, the boys looked up to the fifth row of windows that belonged to the attic. In their six long years of life, they had never once ventured into the attic. Bill had told them stories about the boy-eating ghoul who lived there.

"What're we going to do?" George asked after a few minutes.

"I dunno. We should go back to the fort though. It's getting really dark now. I've never been outside without Mum or Dad when it was this dark."

The boys stood shivering for a few more minutes, listening to the chatter coming from the open, illuminated windows of the kitchen. Dejectedly, the boys retreated back into their fort, keeping their eyes peeled for the monsters that they imagined were out to get them.

Meanwhile, Molly Weasley was bustling around the small, cozy kitchen in the Burrow. A four-year-old Ron and a three year old Ginny were sitting happily at the worn wooden table, sticking their hands into their own mashed potatoes. Down the table from them was an eight-year-old Percy, freshly clothed and sitting primly in his chair, eating his green peas. Next to him sat his eldest brothers. Bill, who was fourteen, was chatting animatedly to nobody in particular. The normally loud Charlie Weasley was busy reading Quidditch Through the Ages for his fifth time since the two Hogwarts students had arrived home the week before. Instead of being glad to be home after his first year at Hogwarts, Charlie was what could only be considered homesick for the magical castle.

Molly lowered the three plates that had been levitating over her sons with her wand with a small clatter. The drawer to her right slid open noisily and silverware sprang out of it and flew onto the table.

"Erm, Mum?" Bill asked in the middle of his soliloquy about how wonderful all of his classes had been. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Molly said as she scooped blobs of potatoes onto his plate. "Your brothers have gotten on my last nerve."

"Where are they, Mum?" Charlie asked, drawn out of his book by his mother's foul mood.

Molly, looking startled, blinked. She hadn't noticed their absence the entire evening, instead enjoying the peace and quiet. Seeing their mother's shock, Bill and Charlie sprang from the table and headed toward the kitchen door without a glance back. They hurried outside and began searching the back garden for a trace of their impish little brothers. Not finding any trampled plants or small fires in the back garden, they decided to look in the front of the house.

"Fred!" Bill called out into the darkening night. "George!"

"Oi, you midgets, c'mere!" Charlie shouted. "It's dinner time and you're missing Mum's sausage and potatoes."

On a whim, (a/n: which proved correct... amazing how ironic fan fiction is, isn't it) the two teens wandered past the chicken coop, over the brook, and into the meager stretch of oak trees. Behind the tallest oak, Bill and Charlie came upon the twins' little hut of a fort.

"Oi, twerps, are you in there?" Charlie said in a low voice as he hunched over to peek through the makeshift door. Inside were the twins, backed up against each other and sound asleep.

"Bill, look at 'em." Charlie said with a grin. "Quietest I've ever seen 'em."

"Wonder what they did this time, to make Mum so angry." Bill responded as he stooped to enter the fort. His hair swung into his eyes as he bent over and Bill had to brush it out. Molly had been on his case to trim it up to keep it tidy but Bill, wanting to rebel as any normal teenager, had refused, saying that longish hair was "all the rage" at school.

Crouching over, Bill scooped up George and carried him from the fort, dropping him unceremoniously into Charlie's freckled arms. George grunted and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'banana pants' before falling dead asleep again. Fred was carried out of the fort next and the two oldest Weasley boys carried the twins through the now dark night, up to the well-lit Burrow and into the living room, depositing them onto the overstuffed, tartan couch.

"Mum, we found Fred'n'George." Charlie said as he and Bill came back into the kitchen that was now empty, except for their mother at the sink. Molly sighed as he scrubbed the pots and dishes from dinner. A loud squeal and a deep laugh told the boys that Ron, Ginny, and their dad were upstairs in the nursery.

"Why were they out so late, Mum?" Bill asked as he shoved some of his now-cold potatoes into his mouth."

"They were teasing Percy again and when Percy came to tell me, they ran off. Percy threw such a fit that I suppose the twins were afraid that I was going to punish them. And I would have! Poor Percy has had such a bad time with those boys. I don't know why they like to torment him so much. More than that, I don't know why Percy won't stand up to them. He's much bigger and I – "

"Mum?" Charlie asked, cutting her off. He handed her his plate and asked, "What'd the twins do that was so bad?"

"I couldn't get a straight answer from Percy. You know how he can be, exaggerating and such. From what I understood, the twins were trying to feed those dreadful gnomes Percy's shoes, or something of the sort."

Later that evening, once Ginny and Ron had been put to bed, Molly Weasley entered the living room to find her twin sons sound asleep on the sofa. Smiling gently, she bent over to kiss their foreheads in turn.

"I don't know what's gotten into the two of you." She sighed, smoothing down Fred's hair. "I've got a wild couple of years ahead of me, I suppose."

"Molly?" Arthur Weasley whispered, leaning around the corner of the entrance into the living room. Upon seeing his usually frenzied sons silent and immobile, he strolled in, his work robs swishing.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, dear." Arthur replied. Even after sixteen years of marriage, he still got butterflies in his stomach when he saw Molly. It had been like that since their days in Hogwarts. He came up next to her and put an arm around her. With seven children, they hardly had any time with only each other. Sighing, Molly pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and covered up Fred and George, who squirmed into the warmth. Arthur led her by the arm and set her down in front of the fire. He sat down next to her and holding hands, they stared into the fire.

George, waking for a moment out of hunger, saw his parents and was about to go over to them and demand some dinner, when he decided against it. He had never seen his parents like this before. They were quiet and they looked peaceful, even younger than they were. Quietly, he watched his parents. After a few minutes, he happily drifted off to sleep.

A/N: And so ends the first vignette of 'Oak Leaves'. I hope it's alright! My sister is going to kill me if I don't get to work on my other 'plot bunnies'! Keep an eye out for my Thanksgiving story and my 1983 (John Mayer) songfic. (Yes, I KNOW that England doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving! Geez, Katie!) PLEASE REVIEW! I've only gotten about 10 reviews in my life, so they mean a lot to me.