Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and it's characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Warnings: This is currently rated T for dashes of colourful language here and there. As the story progresses these warnings may be subject to change.

Ron Weasley looked around at the rapidly vacating guests and felt his stomach plummet as he saw Harry and Hermione Disapparate on the arm of a red head who was most definitely not him. Bugger. His thoughts were rapidly distracted however, as he found himself in the middle of a wand fight.

He ducked as a stray spell whizzed over his head, feeling the effects as they brushed past his scalp, and tingled down his spine. Pushing forcefully past the guests in front of him, he aimed his wand and shot an Expelliarmus at the nearest Death Eater. Hearing a shout he turned his head rapidly as another red head crashed into him and tugged him in the opposite direction, pushing him roughly underneath one of the laden tables.

As the tablecloth hung down and hid them from view, his brother hissed, 'Where's Fred?'

Ron groaned, rubbing his head where he'd banged it against the table edge, 'So that's who it was.'

'What are you on about?' said George indignantly, 'We don't have time for this, I need to find Fred and get out of here.'

'Fred's gone,' Ron muttered darkly, 'He went with Harry and Hermione.'

'Wha-why?' said George, looking puzzled, 'No wait, never mind, so long as he's safe.'

'Never mind?!' Ron spluttered loudly, 'Don't you get it? They've gone!'

'Keep your voice down-'

The table above them began to hover slightly, glasses clinking together and smashing, before being thrown forcefully away from them and landing in a ruined heap outside the marquee, exposing the two boys to the barrage of the fight once more.

'Well, well. What have we here, hmm? More traitor scum to add to the pile,' drawled the Death Eater, stepping up to them where they were still sitting cramped on the ground. They looked up and glared at the cloaked and masked man, and Ron felt his blood boil.

'You're the one with the ugly skull on your face,' said Ron firmly, earning an elbow in the gut from George and a sneer from the death eater in front of him.

'Maybe you'd like to put your wand where your mouth is?'

Ron sneered back at the Death Eater in response.

'No? Well then, tell me where Harry Potter is and the two of you can go free,' said the man, opening his arms widely in a gesture of casual peace, oblivious or uncaring to the fight raging behind him.

'Ha! That's a likely story,' Ron said snidely, 'More like we tell you, and you kill us before going back to your filthy master, begging for praise.'

'You'd be wise not to insult the Dark Lord, mudblood loving scum, you forget the position you're in,' the man spat, swinging his wand towards Ron and George, and face darkening with anger, 'Now tell me where he is.'

'He was never here,' George said quickly, 'We don't know where he is, haven't seen him since the start of summer when he went back to his Aunt's house.'

The man let his wand wrist relax slightly, a small smile spreading across the exposed skin where his mask ended in unnerving contrast, pointing out the unremarkable being beneath the horror.

'I know you're lying,' he said slowly, as if he were tasting the words as they left his mouth, 'But don't worry, I'll get it out of you, that's my favourite part-'

The man paused and frowned, looking down at the ugly black mark that burned his left forearm. He took one more look at his two hostages, before grinning widely and Disapparating into the night. The last spells lingering in the air fizzled away as the targets fled the scene without so much as a blink, their opponents Disapparating quickly in pursuit, leaving behind a thick and clogging silence in their wake.

'Merlin's sake, Ron!' George exclaimed, breaking the silence in true Weasley fashion, 'You could have gotten us killed you twit!'

'If he was going to kill us, he'd do it whether we were nice to him or not!' Ron snapped, his face turning red as he stood up to walk away from George.

'Calm down, mate-'

Ron turned back to face the solitary twin, and George took a step backwards at the glint in his youngest brother's eye. 'I won't calm down! Harry and Hermione have gone, George, they aren't coming back. Do you get it now? Fred won't be coming back either, not now. Who cares if some Death Eater threatens us?'

'Shouting at me won't fix anything, Ron,' George said calmly, 'What do you mean Fred won't be coming ba-'

'George! Ron! There you are! Where are the others? Are they safe?' Mrs Weasley bustled up towards them, her cheeks red and her chest heaving with every breath. The arm of her dress was ripped, and a rather large gash peeked through the torn material.

'Mum, are you alright?' George asked quickly.

'Oh, yes yes, I'm fine, George. Just a little cut. Where's Fred?'

'He's with Harry and Hermione. They're gone mum,' said Ron gritting his teeth.

'Gone? What do you mean gone?' she tensed, her eyes widening and a note of panic entering her voice, 'Are they safe?'

'Who knows. The Death Eaters didn't get them if that's what you want to know, but they won't be coming back. We were planning on leaving tonight anyway, Hermione had everything packed in her bag,' he answered shortly.

'All right, well we'll have to leave explanations until later, right now we need to get into the house, the Order will be regrouping there,' she breathed a small sigh, but her mouth set into a grim line, determination and desperation warring for dominance on her face, 'The Death Eaters could come back at any time, we have to get somewhere more defensible.'

OoXoO

The atmosphere in the Burrow could be cut with a knife. The rest of the Weasley family were huddled around the rickety kitchen table, unnaturally quiet and solemn. They all looked up as the three walked through the threshold, Arthur standing and folding Molly into a tight embrace. Ron could see her shoulders relax in his father's arms, and he was thankful that so many of his family were still here - there was comfort in that, at least.

'Has anyone else from the Order made it back yet?' Molly asked quietly, taking a step back to look up at her husband.

'Remus just made it back with Tonks. They're fine,' Arthur said hurriedly, 'They're in the sitting room, I think Tonks is lying down for a bit. None of the others are back yet.'

Molly nodded in response and moved to take a seat at the table next to Arthur's, George and Ron following her example and squeezing into chairs between their siblings.

'So they've gone then? Harry and Hermione. Why is Fred with them?' Molly asked calmly, her face smooth, but for the small crease between her brow that she only wore when worried or angry. Ron wasn't sure which she was feeling this time. It could be both.

'Beats me, they must prefer him,' he muttered glumly, feeling thoroughly sorry for himself at being left behind.

'Get a grip, Ron. It was a mistake mum, obviously,' said George, shaking his head at his younger brother's sour attitude. Molly frowned, but seemed to accept the explanation as the only one she was likely to get.

'Easy for you to say, you haven't been left behind,' Ron retorted.

'Shall I point out that there's usually a slightly less handsome version of yours truly hanging around?' George smirked. Ginny laughed nervously beside him, but the joke felt empty, like the seat on the other side of George.

'Sorry mate, wasn't thinking,' Ron mumbled.

'Bad habit that. Might want to start, what with N.E. this year,' George grinned.

Ron groaned at the mention of exams, he hadn't planned on taking another one if he could help it. He wished Hermione had been left behind instead, at least she would be happy to take her N.E. .

The kitchen door swung open, it's hinges creaking and mingling with Ron's enthusiastic complaint. Arthur was out of his seat and at the door before Ron had even noticed the figure standing in the frame.

'Declare yourself,' Arthur demanded, his wand out and pointed at the figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

'I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror and secretary to the muggle Prime Minister, known as Royal to my friends. I enjoy muggle Operas, and Ballet,' he intoned drily. Arthur lowered his wand and gestured at him to take a seat at the table.

'They've put the house under surveillance, Arthur. I managed to get through before the charms were fully in place, but it's going to be a lot harder from now on.'

'That's going to cause some problems. We'll need to get the message out to the others to stay away.'

'Patronus?' Molly asked. Arthur nodded in agreement, and the table once more fell into an awkward silence.

'Why did no one password us?' George asked to nobody in particular, 'We could've been anybody.'

'I should think I know my own family,' Arthur replied quietly, a small smile at his lips. The twins could never leave a silence untouched.

'You lot can barely tell the difference between me and Fred, that's not very comforting, Dad.'

'Honestly, George, what do you think the clock is for? It's not just to catch you and Fred getting up to no good,' said Molly exasperatedly, and turned back toward Arthur, 'We need to set up more security wards on the house, and Bill's cottage too. Perhaps, Charlie-'

'Yes, yes we can discuss it as soon as we hear what's happening,' Arthur said firmly, 'Ginny, Ron, George, you should go up to bed.'

'I'm of age, I want to stay and help,' George said, his voice tight but steady.

Arthur looked at his third youngest, and after a moment, nodded his approval.

'I'm of age too-'

'You're still at school, Ron. You and Ginny are not going to be involved for as long as we can help it. We've discussed this before,' Molly said sharply, before softening her voice and brushing a hand through her hair, 'I'm sorry, but that's final. Go and get some sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow.'

Ron and Ginny shared a look of disgruntlement, but both stood up and made their way out of the kitchen and into the hallway, passing by the lounge where Lupin and Tonks were sitting quietly, and up into the empty levels of the house, Ginny breaking the silence to laugh when they heard George start up the argument again, that keeping an eye on the twins was exactly what the clock was for.

OoXoO

The sun was beating down, casting a swathe of ruthless heat upon the Burrow, and turning the grass a sickly yellow tinge. Despite it being uncommonly hot for a Devon summer, the generally well-received climate met with resolute dissatisfaction from three members of the Weasley clan. Whereas previous summers would have called for sunbathing or picnics in the garden, sweaty and riotous Quidditch matches, and water fights in the stream running through the property, this summer had taken on a rather dull cast, the sun unable to burn through the undercurrents of tension in the Weasley household.

Ron, in particular, found himself gloomy at best and positively churlish at worst. Unable to endure the constant chatter of his remaining siblings or the sympathetic looks garnered from his mother and various order members, he had taken to spending as much time as possible holed up in his room, avoiding both his responsibilities and the unsolicited memories of summers past. When Molly Weasley invaded the solitude of his room on a cleaning mission however, he made a break for freedom, escaping to the safety of the Orchard.

He made his way down to the bottom of the sprawling grove to where the ancient Horse Chestnut tree stood proud, solitary from the surrounding fruit copse. The tree housed the old swing, and the haphazard fort Fred and George had built before leaving for Hogwarts, and had spent their days in every summer since. They had claimed the fort a 'ginger free zone' and defended their rule on the basis of being 'more auburn actually', before proceeding to pelt their siblings mercilessly with conkers at every opportunity.

The tree was empty now, devoid of the lively battles and nefarious Weasley twin escapades. At the thought, Ron kicked hard at the trunk of the offending tree, gaining a stubbed toe for his efforts. Groaning and clutching his foot, he hopped to the swing and plonked himself down on its worn seat.

'I didn't think anyone would be out here,' a voice spoke from the boughs above him. Ginny peered at him from the edge of the wooden platform, her freckled wrists dangling over the side as she positioned herself on her belly.

'I came here to be alone,' he huffed, kicking off from the ground and putting distance between his feet and the dirt beneath him.

'Well, don't mind me then,' she said airily, 'I'm here for the same reason,' she rolled onto her back, squinting up at the dense foliage and the shafts of light trickling through the leaves.

Ron sighed, 'I suppose we're both here now. Might as well, you know, chat or something.' He shrugged at his own suggestion, but from her vantage point, Ginny didn't catch the gesture. She remained quiet for a time, and Ron began to think she hadn't heard him either.

'Make yourself useful and cast a cooling charm, would you?' She called down finally.

'Oh, er right, yeah,' he mumbled, reaching in his jeans pocket for his wand to cast a Frigore charm. The air around the tree cooled considerably and Ginny let out a sigh of relief.

'Thanks, I can barely think in this heat.'

'You could have cast it yourself,' he frowned at her prostrate figure lounging above him. She looked down at him, smiling wickedly.

'Ah, but you're of age now. You shouldn't be encouraging me. Rules and all that.'

He grinned back, 'Since when have you needed encouragement to break rules Gin?'

'I could say the same to you brother dearest,' she sang, 'All those years of sneaking around with Harry and Hermione, you've broken plenty yourself.'

Ron's grin transformed to a scowl, and he looked down at his feet, kicking in the dust beneath the swing, 'Yeah well, I won't be doing much of anything with them this year, will I?'

She rolled back onto her stomach, her chin resting on her hands as she took in his slumped and dejected form. 'You're not the only one left behind, you know.'

'I-'

'No, I mean, I understand how you must feel. Don't...don't think you're alone. I know you're used to doing everything together, but then, so are Fred and George, and look at how George is coping. So, you aren't alone in being left behind.'

If it had come from anyone else it would have sounded like sympathy, empty words made to pacify him, nullify his feelings. From Ginny it was different. Ginny didn't try to sweeten her words or dull the pain. It wasn't in her nature to placate people.

'How do you cope, Ginny?' He asked quietly, 'How do you cope when Harry leaves you behind and takes us with him?'

She shrugged and chewed her lip for some moments, 'It's not like it is with you. We're not that close. There's always too much going on for us to really get to know each other. It's the feeling that I'm too young. That I'll get in the way. That's what's hard for me.'

For all her youth and insecurities, he had always believed Ginny to be more confident than himself. More capable. She would be sixteen in a few days, only a year younger than Harry. Harry, who at sixteen had once again fought for his life against Death Eaters. Harry, who had proven, time and time again, that age was not the sum of a person.

'You wouldn't get in the way, Gin. It's not that you're too young, no one is too young when it comes to life or death. It's because he cares about you. He doesn't want you to have to fight. He would spare any of us that, I think, if he could.'

She was quiet for a moment, and Ron thought that perhaps she was readying herself for a rant, but then he heard her voice trail down to him softly, so discordant from her usual tenacious lilt that he almost missed it entirely.

'I've come down here a lot this summer. Before everything happened, I mean. I thought a lot about what I would do if he left, and I figured it was best to just accept it, you know? I couldn't stop him going, and I wouldn't want him to feel guilty about leaving either. Accepting it just makes it easier.'

Ron nodded slowly, accepting the truth in her words. He looked up and caught her eyes, and she smiled back down at him.

'I just hope that he's safe,' she said simply.

'Hermione will look after him. Fred too, I suppose. Although, Hermione might go mental with those two together. I was always the calm, rational one, you know,' he laughed quietly, imagining Hermione jinxing Harry and Fred, and feeling quite relieved that he wouldn't be on the receiving end of her wand for the foreseeable future.

'You're probably right.'

'When did you get so wise, huh?'

'When you were off on adventures without me,' she grinned, and threw a conker at his head. Her aim was truer than his dodge. 'So, just you and me this year, Ron.'

He felt the returning smile tugging at his lips, 'Yeah, Gin, just you and me.'