I am terribly sorry for the long wait! I'm not sure if this story will follow the new book or now, but for now there will be absolutely no spoilers. Please leave a review if you read this -- I need to know if this story is good enough to continue, or if I should scrap it in favour of my other stories that I'm currently workig on. I really do enjoy writing this one,but if nobody is reading it or enjoying it, then I don't really see the point in continuing to write it. Toodles! And review!

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If there were any two people who truly personified what the Order of the Pheonix truly stood for -- not just the survival of Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards, but true tolerance and safety for them in the Wizarding World -- those two people would be Arthur and Molly Weasley.

But now, as he sat in his lofty office alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company, it wasn't for the loss of two valuable members of the Order that he wept. No, it was expected that theyw ould love some, as the days and months of this war dragged on. No, he wept, now, for the loss of two FRIENDS.

As a headmaster, he was expected to keep himself detactched, to not value one student above the other, no matter what talents or gifts one might posess. But in that, he had failed with Arthur, and later with Molly, as well.

Before Sirius Black had broken off from his own Dark family, there had been Arthur Weasley. His family had always been staunch supporters of the Dark Arts, and it was even rumoured that they had supported Grindewald, all those years ago.

But Arthur had been different. Not as uncontrollable or as much of a prankster as Sirius would later become, he saw the world through the eyes of an innocent, up until the day of his death : people were people, he would say. Dislike a person if you wanted to, but killing somebody simple because they couldn't do something you could was simply idiotic.

His family hadn't been too thrilled with that line of thought -- not at all. His marriage to young Molly had been the last straw.

For Molly, her family had been against her relationship with Arthur from the very start. The polar opposites of the Weasley family, they had refused to speak with the new Mrs. Weasley after her marraige.

But Molly and Arthur ... they had touched him, with their simplistic way of thinking, their belief in the goodness of the world around them. He had always felt lucky to number them among his friends and confidants.

Butnow they were gone. And for that, he wept.

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Fred stood before the statue of the Gargoyle guarding the way up in to the Headmaster's office, glaring heatedly at the offending piece of magically-enchanged stonework.

He was running out of candy ideas.

"Oh for the love of ... Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" He hadn't expected it to actually work, and had been prepared to turn around and stalk back toward his common room. It was late, and he was tired, dammit!

However, the minute he uttered the word "Weasley", the Gargoyle jumped to the side, making him blink in surprise and falter on the next two words. Well, that was certaintly unexpected. Welcome, to be sure, but unexpected.

Chewing worriedly on his lip, Fred stepped up on to the moving staircase and allowed it to bring up to the office door.

Before he could even knock, however, the Headmaster's voice came through the thick door. "Come in, Mr. Weasley." Well, at least some things never changed. The old man still seemed practically omnipotent, always seeming to know everything before it happened.

But Dumbledore wasn't omnipotent, was he? Because if he was, his parents would still be alive. GEORGE would still be alive.

Blinking back the tears that suddenly sprang to his eyes -- why couldn't he stop crying! -- Fred pushed the heavy door open hovering th ere uncertaintly for a moment. "I ... I heard that you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Fred. Sit down." The man's eyes were suspiciously bright as he said this, his tone brusque.

Swallowing thickly, Fred did as he was told, sitting somewhat siffly in one of the chairs that faced the aging headmaster's desk. It felt so strange, to be sitting here by himself -- every other time he'd sat in this office, he had ALWAYS been accompanied by his twin. It just felt ... strange, to be sitting here without George.

He'd just have to get used to it. George was NEVER going to be coming back, and the sooner he realised that, came to grips with it, the better.