A/N: This was originally meant to be a one-shot, but I've decided to make this a two-shot. Enjoy this while I try to recover from some writer's block with my other fic (which is slowly reaching novel length).

Disclaimer: All the characters, places, objects, etc.belong solely to J.K. Rowling. The rest of the stuff in this story is out of my own mind.

Summery: Just what was life like growing up at the Burrow with seven kids in the home? This story is here to give you some insight into the life of the Weasleys back when only Bill was attending Hogwarts.


Chapter 1

It was a calm, peaceful day in the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole in its little corner of southwestern England. The summer sun had risen high into the sky and warmed the countryside thoroughly. The beautiful serenity of this pristine utopia was soon shattered by a shrieking voice.

"Fred Weasley!" echoed the voice of Molly Weasley from the kitchen of her home, The Burrow.

Clinging beneath his mother's flowered apron, next to a fallen copy of Witch Weekly on the floor, was a young, red-haired boy crying his heart out. His name was Ron.

Another young boy sulked his way into the kitchen. "Yes mum," he said sheepishly.

The look Mrs. Weasley was giving her older son was one that would make the bravest of men cower in fear. "What do you have to say for yourself?" she snarled through her gritted teeth.

Fred stared at the floor as he replied, "I dunno."

Ron sniffled as he glared over at his brother from his mother's side. "Fwed made Teddy change into a spyda," Ron sobbed.

"Only because you broke his broom," interjected Fred's twin brother George as he ran into the kitchen to his twin's aid.

"George, I was dealing with your brother not you," Mrs. Weasley shouted.

"Yeah George," added Ron.

"Who asked you?" Fred retorted.

Instantaneously, a fury of shouting exchanged between Ron and the twins. It was so lively that one argument could not be pulled apart from another.

"Enough!" bellowed Mrs. Weasley. As quickly as it had began, the arguing ceased. But beyond the silence of the kitchen, an infant's cries flowed down from an upper level in the house.

"Now look what you've done," Mrs. Weasley scolded her three sons, "Ginny's been woken up, and I just put her down an hour ago. Bill, go and check on your sister."

The sound of rushing footsteps came from the living room as Mrs. Weasley's eldest son went to go check on his youngest sibling, and only sister, Ginny.

"Hold it right there," Mrs. Weasley snapped as Fred and George tried to sneak away from their mother's rage. "I want the three of you to apologize to each other, now."

Fred and George apologized to Ron, and vice versa as their mother's glowering stare bore into them.

"Now you two," Mrs. Weasley continued, "go to your room and stay there until your father gets home. And no more Quidditch until I feel that you are deserving of it."

Both Fred and George immediately spat out their objections to this unjust punishment. Luckily their mother didn't catch every word from their mouths, mainly those they'd picked up from their older brothers and father.

"Quiet! You will go up to your room and stay there. And I don't want to hear a peep from either of you."

Realizing defeat, the twins turned and left for their room, muttering under their breath. Little did anyone in the house realize what these punishments would result in down the road in Fred and George's futures. Once they had left, Mrs. Weasley turned her attention back to her youngest son who had just managed to put his tongue back into his mouth after sticking it out at his brothers' retreating backs.

"Ron, I also want you to go to your room and stay there."

"But…" Ron tried to object.

"No buts," Mrs. Weasley cut him off, "you broke Fred's broom and you know that you are too young to be fiddling around with higher magic like brooms."

Ron knew better than to argue with his mother and departed for his bedroom on the fifth landing just below the attic. Meanwhile, another red headed boy came into the kitchen. This was the third oldest of the Weasley children, Percy.

"Can I get you a cup of tea mother? You seem a little stressed," he offered.

"Thank you Percy," Mrs. Weasley replied as she sat down at the worn kitchen table.

While Percy tended to the tea, the second oldest Weasley dashed into the kitchen from the garden outside. "It came! It came!" he shouted as he dashed inside.

"Charlie, calm down a minute and tell me what came," Mrs. Weasley inquired of her son.

Charlie had a big grin on his face as he handed his mother a heavy parchment envelope addressed to:

Mr. C. Weasley
The Garden
The Burrow
Ottery St. Catchpole
Devon

On the back of this envelope was a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"I'm going to Hogwarts!" Charlie exclaimed gleefully. Hogwarts was the wizarding school in Britain where children with an aptitude for magic would work to hone their magical abilities to become fully fledged wizards and witches. The eldest of the Weasley children, Bill, had been accepted to Hogwarts as well two years prior.

"Congratulations dear. You'll do well at Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley beamed at her son.

"Here's your tea mother," said Percy as he handed her a steaming cup of tea.

"Thank you Percy."

"No one likes a suck up Perce," Charlie muttered so that his mother wouldn't hear him. Percy glared at his brother's comment.

"And just think," Percy interjected himself, "I'll be getting my own letter in a few more years." The smugness of the look on Percy's face was almost enough to make Charlie sick.

"Yes, but until then we will need to get Charlie's things for Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley explained. "Now Charlie, where's Bill's letter?"

"Right here," stated Bill as he entered the kitchen with an aging and somewhat decrepit owl swaying on his shoulder, "Errol dropped the rest of the mail after flying into the nursery."

"He didn't startle Ginny did he?"

"No. His crash into the bookshelf made her start giggling. But now she's gone back to sleep."

"Good. Now Charlie, next time get all the mail from Errol and not just something that came for you."

"Yes mum," Charlie responded to his mother.


Please let me know what you think and leave me a little review. These things live off of their nourishment.