Disclaimer: J.K's Characters, my plot!

Chapter 2: The Bustling Burrow

One o'clock rolled around a lot sooner than the boys would have liked. Charlie and Ron were completing the last tasks in the garden, placing pale pink covers withfleur-de-lis embellishments (Fleur's choice, no doubt) on tables and placing silverware, and Harry was wrestling with a quite different problem…

"I'm sorry but I think there has been a mistake." Harry tried to reason. He was standing across from a group of haggard looking men and women, each carrying large black suitcases.

"What do you mean, sorry? You booked us, and we're here to rock!" the tallest of the group shouted.

Harry groaned. Apparently, there had been a mix-up at the Magical Entertainment Department. "No, no, Mrs. Weasley booked a string quartette, not, the, er," as he read their suitcases, 'The Laced Corsets.'"

"We can play wedding music! We played for the Weird Sisters' lead singer at her wedding! And she loved it!"

Harry highly doubted that this argument would appease Mrs. Weasley, who hated the Weird Sisters in all of their strangeness, but he did not want to get into it with these vicious looking musicians. "Alright, well, just go out to the garden and set up near the stone wall."

Minutes later, Ron came to the front of the house where Harry was placing portkeys, still grumbling about the garden gnome incident. "I never get a break around here, you know? I mean, look at us. We did most of the work, you're not even in the family, and where are Fred and George? They were supposed to help with all of this!!"

Harry shrugged while placing a moldy piece of toast, his last portkey, on the grass. "I thought portkeys were only used for special occasions."

Ron, who could not seem to overcome his anger, was kicking the honking daffodils, as if they were honking at him. "Well since dad works at the ministry, he could get a few. It's safer to use portkeys instead of everyone apparating. Special moment, people don't concentrate…I remember my cousins wedding; Percy was so excited that he was the best man, don't ask me why, my cousins weird like that, that when he apparated back from Diagon Alley, he left his arms and the cake behind!"

Still picturing the image of a splinched Percy, they laughed and ran upstairs to put their dress robes on. Moments later, when the two boys were finally thrilled about the festivities ahead, a very loud crash came from the kitchen and they rushed downstairs to see what the problem was.

"OW, GET OFF ME REMUS!" a familiar female voice shouted. Harry was the first to arrive at the scene, and what a scene it was. Tonks and Professor Lupin were entangled together awkwardly on top of the kitchen counter, a floury mess lined the floor, and the container of sugar seemed to have spilled on the pair's heads.

Lupin pushed himself off of the counter and attempted to help Tonks, but only succeeded in making her angrier. She jumped down and scowled away to the bathroom, her hair as red and Ron's and Lupin's flushed cheeks. He shook out his head and attempted to explain to Harry and Ron, both of their mouths opened in surprise, "Well, um, hello boys. We used the portkey, how we ended up on the kitchen counter I couldn't tell you," and gesturing to the bathroom, "Sorry about that. She wanted me to wear the dress robes she made for me, but I couldn't, mauve just isn't my color." And with a wink he set off to make amends with Tonks.

"Harry, mate, I think you placed the wrong portkeys out front!" Ron said, trying to suppress a laugh, looking into an empty waste bin. "That's our trash pile."

Harry made a face and began to grab the rest of the items on the counter. But they were too late. Suddenly, the other portkeys emitted large numbers of people, and a minute later, the kitchen was filled to capacity with bodies, gift boxes, and angry faces.

"RONALD WEASLEY, WHAT IS THIS?" Mrs. Weasley said. As if clockwork, she chose the perfect time to return to her house, soot flying in the air, accompanying the flour, now creating powdery clouds above them all.

"I, er…well," Ron started, but Harry cut in.

"It was my fault Mrs. Weasley. I didn't know-", but he too was cut off my Mrs. Weasley's hand. She was looking out of the window, her face set in a stony expression.

"Who…are…they?" She breathed. Harry and Ron looked out of the window as well and Harry gulped. She was speaking about the leather-bound band Harry had quarreled with earlier.

"The, um, the Laced Corsets?" Harry tried, but by that time Mrs. Weasley was marching out of the kitchen, murder written across her face.

Hermione dusted herself off and began picking grumbling guests off of the ground. "Let's just get this mess cleaned up." she said, taking charge as usual. So her, Ginny, Ron and Harry (Fleur, deciding that she was too important today for such trivial matters pranced upstairs) dealt with the grumbling guests and the filthy kitchen.

After many apologies to his relatives, Ron moaned and sat at the kitchen table. "What else could go wrong?!"

He shouldn't have asked that, because at that very moment, Fred and George apparated into the living room, carrying a very large, very heavy, brown box. "Hello all!"