"Fred! George! The O.W.L. results are here! Percy! The N.E.W.T. results are in!"

Molly Weasley's sharp voice echoed up from the bottom of the stairs, cutting through the usual morning bustle of the Burrow.

"I feel sick," Fred muttered, sprawled across his bed, clutching his stomach as though the weight of the news was already settling in. "I don't want to know what we're doomed to."

Fred and George's room was, as usual, a chaotic mess. Crumpled parchments and sweet wrappers littered the floor. Two beds were squeezed into the small space, only separated by a large, creaking chest of drawers. On the walls, faded yellow banners of the Wimbourne Wasps — their beloved Quidditch team — hung at crooked angles.

"Come on, Fred," George urged, swinging open the door with a flourish that narrowly missed Percy's face.

"Oi! Watch where you're going," Percy snapped, adjusting his round spectacles with an air of superiority.

"It's George," came the habitual correction, but Percy had already muttered something under his breath and stormed off, his robes billowing in his wake.

George followed his brother into the kitchen, a pace slower than usual, his mind distracted by the fluttering sense of nervous excitement in his chest. By the open window, three owls sat on the table, waiting patiently for their deliveries.

The Burrow, as ever, hummed with a warm, homely atmosphere. The smell of fresh soup simmered on the stove, and the soft clink of a knife chopping meat could be heard from the corner. Celestina Warbeck's voice floated through the air from the Wizarding Wireless Network, filling the room with a familiar tune. The round kitchen table, though scarred with burns and age, was as clean as a new pin.

"Ah, George, dear," Molly greeted him with a smile. She was wearing a white apron, her red curls messily pulled back into a knot atop her head. Percy was already hunched over his own letter, his hands shaking so badly that the owl on the table looked like it might tremble along with him.

George, his heart pounding in his ears, took a deep breath and slowly opened the envelope with his name on it. Fred, too, had entered the kitchen by now, his voice cutting through the tension in the air.

"Mother, we already know our results. We've both earned Exceeds Expectations in everything. We showed up, didn't we?" Fred said, trying to sound dismissive, though his eyes were bright with nerves.

But George wasn't listening. He unfolded the letter with a trembling hand, his eyes scanning the parchment.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

George Fabian Weasley has achieved:

Astronomy: P

Care of Magical Creatures: P

Charms: E

Defence Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Muggle Studies: E

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

George stared at the parchment for a long moment, his heart sinking with each passing second. But then, his eyes caught the word 'Outstanding' next to Potions, and suddenly, a huge weight lifted from his chest. He had done it. Their dream of opening the joke shop was still alive.

Behind him, he heard his mother cooing over Percy's results.

"Well done, Percy," Molly said proudly, ruffling his hair. "Ten N.E.W.T.s, that's wonderful! You can write to Mr. Crouch about that job you've been eyeing. I heard from your father that he's looking for someone…"

"How did you do?" George whispered to Fred, his voice low but hopeful.

"Better than expected," Fred grinned, handing over his results. His eyes were bright with anticipation.

"We did it," Fred smiled as George scanned his brother's results.

Fred Gideon Weasley has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Defence Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: T

Muggle Studies: A

Potions: T

Transfiguration: A

"Six O.W.L.s each, boys," Mrs. Weasley said, looking astonished. "I'm so proud of you both. I knew you could do it if you really put your minds to it."

"Mum, are there any more sausages?" Fred asked, his gaze drifting about the room for any sign of food.

"Of course, dear. But George, I need you to help me write a letter to Harry's aunt and uncle. I want to invite him to the World Cup and have him stay here for the rest of the holidays," Molly added.

"Father got tickets for the World Cup?" Percy asked, glancing up from his letter.

"He did," said Molly with a twinkle in her eye. "He even got us a camping ticket, so you can all stay the night."

"Wicked!" Fred grinned, stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth. "George, fancy a game of Quidditch?"

"No time for that," Molly cut in sternly, her eyes narrowing. "Your brothers Charlie and Bill will be here any minute, and we need to clean up the place for them. You two will sleep in Ron's room."

"Mum," Fred groaned, but Molly had already placed a mop in his hands.

"No, 'Mum'. Start with cleaning your rooms. I need them for Charlie and Bill, and please, no more fake wands or Ton-Tongue Toffees around here," she added with a sharp look at the twins.

Her tone left no room for argument. The fight they'd had over the twins' joke shop plans and magical sweets — and Fred's comment about avoiding a career at the Ministry — had only just calmed down, thanks to Arthur stepping in.

Fred sighed and dropped his gaze. "Yes, Mum."

A few hours later, Charlie and Bill arrived, the Burrow now gleaming with cleanliness.

"Hello, Mum!" Charlie's voice rang out, and he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "We're home."

"Oh, Charles!" Molly sniffed, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad to see you."

Charlie, short and stocky, with muscles from his work with dragons, grinned broadly. His face was sun-kissed and freckled, a result of too much time spent outdoors. Behind him, Bill, tall, thin, and strikingly handsome, entered more slowly. His long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a ring with a dragon's fang dangled from his ear.

"Oh, William," Molly beamed, letting go of Charlie to embrace her eldest son.

"Where's Ron and Ginny?" Charlie asked, sinking into a chair next to Percy.

"Cleaning their rooms," Percy replied stiffly, though his eyes flicked toward the window, clearly anxious about hearing back from Bartemius Crouch.

"I'm wounded! No welcoming party from our youngest sister?" Bill teased, looking around at the empty space.

"How was Romania and Egypt?" Molly asked, as she busied herself with making tea and preparing snacks with a quick wave of her wand.

Bill launched into a tale about his work as a Curse-Breaker in Egypt, recounting the discovery of a new tomb belonging to a powerful pharaoh. Charlie, not to be outdone, chimed in with stories of the dragons he had been working with in Romania.

"But how are things here?" Charlie asked, after his fourth scone. "Percy, did you get your ten N.E.W.T.s?"

"I did, brother," Percy replied. "I applied for a job with Sir Bartemius Crouch at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I'm expecting a response this afternoon."

"Very impressive," Molly said, her voice filled with affection. Percy's ears turned pink at the praise.

"And you two?" Bill asked, turning to Fred and George. "Passed your O.W.L.s? Discovered the opposite sex yet?"

"We passed our O.W.L.s," Fred grinned. "As for the opposite sex, Billius, are you worried we might surpass your list of conquests?"

Bill laughed heartily, but Molly shot the twins a sharp look. "Frederick Gideon, behave."

Fred's grin widened. "I always behave, Mum. It's the girls who don't behave around me."

Laughter erupted from the table, even Percy cracking a smile.

The only one not joining in was George. His mind had wandered far away, to one particular Slytherin who was probably just waking up at this very moment.

Eleanor Anne Seymour stretched lazily, the sunlight filtering through the curtains. Alfred, her ever-persistent butler, stood by her door, waiting.

"Lady Eleanor, your mother is expecting you in the drawing room," he said, his voice just the right mix of polite and firm.

Eleanor groaned, burying her face in her pillow. "It's morning, Alfred. I'm not ready to face her yet."

"Your exam results have arrived, Lady Eleanor. Your mother is waiting."

Reluctantly, Eleanor climbed out of bed, dressed in soft pants and a simple white blouse. Her mother, Astraea, was already waiting for her in the drawing room, perched elegantly on a floral sofa. An owl sat expectantly on the coffee table, its wings twitching as if eager for Eleanor to open the letter.

"Ah, Pleione, don't keep me in suspense," Astraea gestured to the owl, which hooted softly.

Eleanor untied the letter, her hands trembling just slightly as she unfolded the parchment.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Eleanor Anne Seymour has achieved:

Arithmancy: O

Astronomy: E

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Charms: O

Defence Against the Dark Arts: E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: E

Potions: O

Study of the Ancient Runes: O

Transfiguration: O

"I passed," Eleanor muttered, her grip loosening on the letter.

Her mother took the parchment with a thin, calculating glance. "Hmm. Care of Magical Creatures was a disappointment. Why didn't you do better in Herbology this year? You had an O last year."

Eleanor remained silent. She knew there was no point in trying to explain herself. The truth was, she had been distracted during that exam. Fred Weasley's presence and absence during the practical had thrown her completely off course, and the memory of him stayed with her, lingering.

"I will do better this year, Mother," Eleanor said quietly, her voice lacking the usual conviction.

"Stop mumbling," Astraea snapped. "Speak clearly. Have I taught you nothing?"

Alfred entered then, carrying tea and scones, a perfect distraction from the tension that hung in the room. Eleanor quietly spread clotted cream over her scone, while her mother continued reading the Daily Prophet.

"Sirius Black hiding in the south of Spain?" she murmured. "He was spotted in Andalusia. How ridiculous. Surely, he wouldn't be so careless."

Eleanor, still trying to shake off the strange feeling of concern, shrugged. "He escaped Hogwarts last June. It's plausible."

But Astraea was already lost in thought, as she took a sip of tea. "No, Sirius is too clever to be caught if he doesn't want to be. This is a diversion. He was in Spain but has returned to England. But why? Why would he risk it?"

Eleanor felt her stomach twist. She had heard the rumors at school—whispers that Harry Potter had something to do with Sirius's escape.

"Sirius and James Potter were best friends," Pleione said quietly, the pieces slowly falling into place. "Could he have come back for Harry?"

Astraea blinked, looking at her with new interest. "Hmm, perhaps. Pleione, you are excused. I need to write to the Yaxleys. Wear something appropriate for the visit, won't you?"

Eleanor nodded, though her thoughts remained miles away.