Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of these characters, or anything to do with Harry Potter belongs to me.
This is my first story so I'd really appreciate reviews! I tried to keep to JK's style of writing, tell me what you think.
The fields surrounding The Burrow were thick with fresh snow. Winter was in full swing, giving Fred, George, Ginny, Ron and Harry pink faces and shivering hands. The last snowballs of the evening were getting pelted - and a sudden appearance of gnome gave everyone a common enemy. "Get him!" Fred shouted. The gnome, looking startlingly like a deer in headlights, was covered in layers of snow before he knew what had happened. Freezing and utterly terrified, he waddled away fast. "Nice shot, Ginny..." Ron said breathlessly. The snowball fight had lasted a good few hours. A light appeared from the bottom of the house, and a Mrs Weasly shaped shadow stood in the door. "Dinner everyone!". George pulled of his red wooly hat, which clashed delightfully with his hair. "Perfect, I'm starving!". As they trudged happily towards the house, were the smell of roast chicken and gravy was luring them anyway, laughs filled the air and talk of Christmas was rife. "Wouldn't it be nice if I woke up with a Firebolt at the end of my bed?" Ron asked dreamily, to no-one in particular. "Or a new Pygamy Puff! Albert's getting on a bit" Ginny piped up. "Who knows, George, maybe Zonko's will accept our offer..." Fred mused hopefully, as they shook off their snow-covered boots and, now extremely wet, coats and personalised Weasly jumpers. "I should hope not! Then you'd never come home!" said Mrs Weasly. Fred and George exchanged guilty looks, as their plans for the future didn't revolve much around The Burrow. "Well, everyone sit down then!". Mrs Weasly gestured haphazardly to the dinner table. Harry slumped into a chair near the chicken and an eager looking Ginny immediately appeared at his side. Harry shook his head subtly, and told himself she was just very hungry.
Mrs Weasly's dinner didn't last long - all the current residents of The Burrow being starving from a long, cold day. As the last remnants of the sticky toffee pudding were being polished off, everyone was tired, full of food, but having a very contented Christmas Eve. Mr Weasly made everyone an impressive hot chocolate, making a particular show of his magical skills in the kitchen (Mrs Weasly was looking skeptical). Cups with nearly a foot of whipped cream toppling precariously out of each of them were handed out. Then a noise like a car dying made everyone jump and look up. George, being the closest to the window - the source of the noise - opened it. He lifted out from the snow beneath it an owl which once may have been majestic and elegant, but now just looked exhausted and weather-beaten. Ginny was craning her neck to see, more than was necessary Harry thought, as he leaned out of her body's newly found presence practically on his lap. "Well what is it, George?" Mrs Weasly asked expectantly, as George's face fell.
"It's from St Mungo's" he said slowly, then continued to read the letter aloud.
"To The Weasly family and Mr Potter,
We have received information that you are in regular correspondence with a Miss Hermione Granger. She and her parents have been taken into our care earlier this evening and are currently unconscious and unavailable for questioning. There has been an attack on Muggle borns in their area of residence and the Granger family appear to be under some sort of (possibly potion-induced) curse, causing a rare type of coma. We are currently working tirelessly on curing the Granger family and the other Muggle borns involved in the attacks. If you have any information on a possible source of these attack, please write back to schedule a confidential appointment with one of our staff. All your help is appreciated greatly.
Yours sincerely,
Miranda Scibberas
Head of Personnel"
No-one in the room was quite sure what to say. After a few silent minutes of everyone being lost in their own thoughts about the attack, Mr Weasly cleared his throat. "I'll erm, write back and tell St Mungo's that we don't need... an appointment" he said, staring out the window with furrowed brow and a look of annoyed concentration, as if he was racking his brain for any idea of why Death Eaters would target Hermione's town particularly. "Yes Arthur's right, dears" Mrs Weasly said smiling weakly "I think we should all go to bed. It's been a long day". She cast a sympathetic look at Ron and Harry, guessing they'd be up all night thinking about it. Neither boy had said anything on the matter. "Right then! I'll clear up dinner, off you go. Night Ginny, darling" she said, planting a kiss on her daughter's cheek. As Ginny left she turned to Harry and opened her mouth as if to speak, but apparently decided against it. Harry however, was looking at Ron, who shared his expression exactly, and didn't even notice.
Fred and George went up to their room talking quietly, leaving Mr and Mrs Weasly alone with Harry and Ron. The four were quite at a loss for what to say, so Harry and Ron climbed to the top of the house, where Ron's (and Harry's, for the holidays) room was. "Bloody hell" said Ron, flopping down onto his bed. "Yeah" said Harry, after a while. In those three words, the boys had expressed all they needed to express to each other. They understood each other's thoughts perfectly. Harry collapsed onto his bed and within minutes two sets of snores broke the silence of The Burrow.