Chapter 1. A Bit of Funny Reading    (August 30, 1997)

BANG!!

Nobody in the Burrow dining room really saw that coming. Yes, the awkward and contentious conversation was destined to end badly, but a blinding burst of light followed by immersion in near darkness was a more dramatic end to dessert than even the Weasleys were accustomed to.

Curtain-filtered moonlight gave everyone's eyes something to adjust to. Several people blinked their grimaces away, and gazed toward the back door. It was intact. Not shattered. Still hinged. The slam had, however, been too sharp for the bolt to engage, so the door was swaying lightly in the evening breeze. Someone was going to have to pull it closed before moths found their way in.

That someone would probably be Harry Potter. As the only person at the table actually standing; the only person not in some state of mild paralysis, he was the natural choice. He cleared his throat. "Err ...." he began eloquently.

Before he had a chance to expand on that, his thoughts were interrupted by two messages: someone he knew well was thinking into his mind, silently and with crystal clarity. One message was raw and primal: ARRRRRGGHH!! Harry jumped slightly at the accompanying flash of light and resounding snap that issued from somewhere in the meadow nearby. The second message then flowed in. It was measured and rational. She was going home. She would wait a couple minutes for him in case he felt a need to effect a civilized goodbye. Then she would leave.

Harry nodded to himself, then waved his hand to reassemble and re-light the three lamps that had blown out a few moments ago. As he did so, he instinctively scanned the room. There were fragments of glassware strewn around. Plates and desserts on the south side of the table were scattered. Ten small holes had burned themselves into the placemat where Ginny's fingers had pushed abruptly away from the table. Ron, Arthur and the twins were all sitting with identically stunned looks on their faces. Bill, left hand still raised in abrogated gesticulation, had gone quite pale. Molly was still flushed, but all traces of bluster had drained from her face; she was biting her lower lip in a grimace .... somewhere between mortification and intense regret.

"Ummm .... it's okay .... I mean, everything will be fine." Harry resumed awkwardly, before finding some momentum. "It was just about time for us to leave as it was .... seeing how much we have to do tomorrow." He paused and began to make his way toward the door. All eyes followed him, unblinkingly. "No hard feelings, please? We are all going through some strains and adjustments right now; I'm certain we can all sort things out." His eyes drifted to the barely touched serving of treacle tart at his place; he hoped his voice sincerely reflected the gratitude he still felt to this family, despite its idiosyncracies. "Molly, thank you ever so much for the lovely meal. We'll be back to visit again soon. Ginny and I will be free to come and go from the school at will; it may be hard to break away right at the start of term, but perhaps in a few weeks if you'd like?"

He stepped through the doorway, but paused again. "Bill, we appreciate your concerns. We're working out some arrangements with Dumbledore and would value your opinions. I'll send you an owl, maybe next week sometime."

"Harry....." Arthur had raised his hand to catch Harry's attention. "Thank you .... and Ginny .... for coming tonight. Congratulations again on your NEWTs, and good luck this year. We look forward to seeing you two again soon." He paused to collect his thoughts. "Despite any appearances to the contrary, please know that we too are all .... adjusting. I too would like to talk to you both again soon."

Harry nodded and smiled softly to the room. As soon as he had eased the door onto its latch, he turned and ran down the path to the edge of the wards where Ginny was waiting. In the twilight he was fairly certain he could see the air crackle with static around her. He coughed gently to let her know he was approaching. Best not to jangle any more nerves tonight!

"Thank you for waiting." he whispered to her.

"Family." she growled, and they disapparated to Magpie Lane.

Once again the spoons rattled the edges of the two gelatto bowls that Harry had placed on the kitchen table. He chuckled softly to himself. The silencing charms they had erected around the workout room were effective, but did not perfectly cancel low-grade earthquakes. The spoons clanked again, their loudest yet.

Scooping a bit into a third bowl, he placed it on the floor. Emerald untangled herself from his around his ankles and mewed appreciatively as she lapped at her frozen treat. Harry glanced at the clock, thinking, 'And she should be done right about .....'

"Gelatto!" exclaimed Ginny as she strode through the door, fiery smile on her lips.

Harry smiled, glancing past her shoulder at the smoldering wreckage of their workout room. "Maple pecan." he said, closing the door to keep the smoke out of the kitchen.

She downed most of the ice water he'd put out for her, took a seat at the table and carved out a spoonful of the confection from her bowl. "Mmmmmm....."

Harry stood behind her and his hands commenced their work at the base of her neck.

"Mmmmmmm......" she said, this time in deep exhalation.

"Burn off a little steam?" he asked.

"Mmmmmm......" She ducked her cheek down to brush the top of his hand, then glanced back at the door. "I'll clean up the mess in there before bed."

He kissed the top of her head and swung himself into the chair across from her, taking those hands of his with him as he did so.

"Mmm...??" she inquired, eyebrows turning up petulantly.

"Later!" he laughed holding up his hands. "I want to eat this before it melts. I didn't get to finish my dessert earlier."

"Ohhh." she sighed. "Sorry about that."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You held up admirably well all evening, considering .... well considering how little sleep we've had this past week. And as for your Mum, I think that ...."

POP .... POP

"Who ....?" Harry and Ginny asked each other. Harry tip-toed over to the bay window and peered through a gap in the curtains. He grinned and beckoned Ginny over to the front entrance. "Keep a straight face." He whispered. He counted to three while they both composed dignified faces, then he swung the door open.

"Oh wise and powerful ones, please forgive your humble servants!" The twins groveled from the front steps, heads down and arms raised in mock obeisance. "We beg of thee an audience!"

Ginny burst out laughing. So much for a straight face. "Get off the steps you nutters. Come in, we're having a late night gelatto."

Two heads rose, grinning as one.

"Our dearest, most discrete and tactful mother is quite contrite." said George as Harry served him a bowl.

"She said to tell you she's sorry." Fred clarified. "Mmmm!" he added, with a spoon handle sticking out of his mouth.

Ginny laughed lightly. "You can tell our dearest, most discrete and tactful mother that the apology is accepted. And please let her know that I'm sorry for .... flaring .... a little. And for leaving a bit abruptly." She paused. "And yes, like Harry told everyone, we'll try to get back in a few weeks to apologize in person."

Fred and George gaped at her. This was not the response they were anticipating. "My sweet sister," George began, placing a hand to Ginny's forehead, "are you feeling feverish?"

"I think she's feeling great." Harry told them, sweeping open the door to the workout room. Acrid fumes were still rising from the detritus. A clump of singed foam padding tumbled from the lintel. He grinned as the shock rolled over the twins' faces.

"Oh...." they intoned in stunned unison.

Closing the door, Harry took a seat, his expression growing serious. "We'd like you two to keep this quiet. This ...." he said, gesturing toward the workout room, "and the blowup at the Burrow."

Fred and George nodded mutely.

"A while ago, maybe around the time of the incident at the Malfoy place, Ginny's magic started .... changing, for lack of a more precise description. It's like there was something constraining it before. It's always been plenty strong enough, but something seems to have let loose and ...." he paused in thought. "Well, let's just say that Ginny was planning to return to Hogwarts for a graduate independent study program, and I think she now has a ready made research topic."

"Yes." said Ginny, "Me."

"Advanced Ginny studies?" Fred quipped. "As opposed to Weasleys 101?"

"Right." Harry agreed. "Her, or perhaps 'us'. I've been picking up on ways that I believe her magic is influencing mine. Maybe vice versa as well. Anyway, we really don't have a handle on why it started happening, how best to harness it, whether there are risks, etc."

"Risks? You mean, other than blowing up a room when someone says something stupid?" asked George. Ginny shot him a withering glare that sent him diving theatrically beneath the table.

"The message is that things are a little exciting." Ginny explained. "Or a little scary right now, depending on .... your .... perspective .....??" Ginny frowned distractedly as George's wide eyes crept up to table level and he sheepishly resumed his seat. George smiled and waved cheerfully for her to continue. "I think we need a little time to bring this all under control. I actually have a good feeling about the change, but we want to keep it quiet for now because I don't want all of the reactionaries in the Order to treat me like a powder keg. And we especially don't want Riddle finding out about the current instability and dreaming up some way to exploit it. If we can just find a bit of peace and quiet to assimilate, adapt and sculpt the changes, I have this feeling that it could all prove to be very .... useful?"

Harry nodded. "So not a single word about the magic flux, please. Friend or foe."

The twins shook their heads.

Ginny gazed toward the window. "If you hear any of the others speculating about what happened tonight at the table, you can tell them it was accidental magic. Say that my brain was a bit haywire from all the studying or something."

"But, it was accidental, was it not?" Fred surmised.

"Yes, .... a little embarrassing, really." Ginny admitted.

"I don't think so.'' Harry offered. "I mean, accidental yes, but I don't think it's embarrassing. If you imagine spending years getting to know your magic and then overnight it suddenly amplifies .... a lot .... well, all those checks and balances you set up for yourself get thrown off. It's not like a little child who doesn't know how to channel it. Ginny's spellwork has kept advancing through all this. That was abundantly obvious in the NEWT practicals. When she's focusing on a task, she has all the precision and control she ever had. When it comes to spells where you can just pore it on, things like reducto or some of the advanced shields, she's now got this this amazing power reserve to draw on. And when she shuts it down, it turns off just like you'd expect it to. It's just situations where she gets caught off guard."

Ginny nodded. "So, I'm trying my best to be careful about it, but when someone does or says something ...."

"Exceptionally asinine?" George suggested.

"Er, well .... your words, not mine. Anyway, I guess I still have to do a bit of recalibrating in order to keep the excess power from sparking out around the edges." Ginny finished.

"The exercise room is helping this .... recalibration." Harry added, with a smirk, as he scraped out the last shavings of dessert into everyone's bowls. His hands returned to Ginny's appreciative neck, moving his thumbs in circles on either side of her spine. Silence filled the air for a few moments, before Harry spoke again. "I think I know the answer to this, but I still have to ask. You said that Molly asked you two to convey apologies?"The twins nodded."So she figured you'd be seeing us. Does she or your dad know yet that you two train with us? More importantly, does she know you know anything about this place?" He twitched his head to indicate the house around them.

"No." George answered. "I think she asked because they've somehow guessed that we run into you a fair bit. Nonverbal clues maybe? Fred and I don't jump up and down barking like Ron and Bill whenever someone mentions your latest amazing exploit. Because we've already heard about it. Or because we've stopped being surprised to hear crazy things about you two."

Harry worked his way a little further down Ginny's back, lulling her eyes closed. "Thanks!" he told them. "I'm hoping to phase down some of the secrecy quite soon. I think we're going to be able to make an announcement pretty soon about expanding the defense training to an advanced adult class. Ginny and I brought it up with Dumbledore, and he was tentatively supportive. So I don't have any objection to moving that little detail out into the open a bit more .... within reason of course. But I would like to keep this place completely hushed. The Fidelius charm obviously won't let you tell anyone how to get here, but I'm hoping to keep its very existence under wraps for as long as possible. It always used to creep me out looking through the window at Grimmauld place and seeing death eaters standing in the street trying to catch a glimpse of us. Here we can stroll over to the park for fresh air without anyone batting an eye. The place is really growing on me — I would hate to have to abandon it."

Ginny nodded in agreement.

"We hear you, brother Harry." said Fred, reaching down to scratch Emerald behind the ears.

George snickered. "If you want to really cement our devout fidelity to your secrets, then maybe you could lend those hands of yours over here. My back has been full of knots ever since ...."

Ginny snarled, eyes opening to thin slits.

"Okay, forget that."

"So tell me Ginevra, most powerful, ...." mused Fred thoughtfully as he savored his final spoonful. This new magic of yours. Is that how you managed to scrape three NEWTs this week for courses you've never even taken?"

"I wish!" Ginny laughed. "No, there are no shortcuts. Harry and I had been putting in fifty to sixty hours every week all summer on practical, then when we got our revision list from Professor McGonagall we threw every waking moment into learning theory. Not one night since mid-August has either one of us gotten five hours of sleep." She she rubbed her temples. "I so do not recommend doing it this way."

"So you're trying to tell us, your dear devoted brothers, that you have all this wonderful new magical prowess and you didn't even cheat?" George pried.

"Not even a teeny little bit?" Fred added.

"Hey!" Ginny erupted, poking George in the chest, as Fred leapt back, ducking for cover. "Harry passed five NEWTs this week, so if you're going to accuse your dedicated, morally upright sister of cheating, then you'd better accuse him too!"

"Okay everyone." Harry began, raising his face with a weary but slightly dangerous smile. "All insinuations aside, worthy or not, you have a very tired sister and she cannot be held responsible for any regrettable accidents .... stinging hexes, bat bogeys, body parts suddenly transfigured into moldy turnips.... And I doubt I'm sharp enough to come up with useful counter spells. I think we need to call it a night."

"Ack!" squawked Fred, eyes-level with the table. "George, I so do not recommend provoking our kind hosts any further." He edged toward the front door, grinning wickedly.

"You passed five NEWTs this week, mate?" George asked with an uncharacteristically expressionless face as he began to make his way toward the door. "As a sixth year?"

Harry shrugged. "You know, it doesn't really matter much, does it? Ginny and I didn't take those tests because we want pretty pieces of parchment to hang on the wall. We took them to get them out of the way so we can focus on what's really important." He threw an arm over the shoulders of each of the twins as he walked them down the steps. "There's so much more that we all have to learn. For ourselves. For each other. All the NEWTs in the world aren't going to be worth a shred if we can't figure out how to defend what we believe in."

The three of them stood staring into the night sky for a minute. The twins turned and saluted soberly, then disapparated, leaving Harry to stand alone, lost in thought.

Ginny descended the steps. "George forgot his jumper." she said. She gazed westward for a moment, shrugged, and nestled herself under Harry's arm. They stood in the dim lamplight holding each other for a while, before she led him to bed.

Molly sat at the breakfast table with rings under her eyes and a large mug of coffee, still shaking her head at how badly yesterday evening had gone. She had been so eagerly awaiting a family celebration: her two youngest had suddenly grown up and, in a whirlwind few weeks of snap decisions and fiercely dedicated study, had suddenly become the two youngest graduates of Hogwarts in generations. Her two babies: Ginny and Harry.

She had long since stopped correcting herself. Yes, Harry was technically not her son, but he certainly didn't have anyone else he could look to as a mother. Besides, she was convinced that he would very likely be her son-in-law some day, and that would cause for much joy and celebration .... Unless, of course, it wasn't.

She had spent several days prior to yesterday's supper working herself into an excited lather. The Hogwarts letters for both of them had come to the Burrow and, in their absence, she had been unable to resist the maternal prerogative of opening them. The letters had been delayed by several weeks in light of extenuating circumstances regarding their changing status. It had been worth the wait, however. The letters confirmed a possibility that Ginny had hinted at on her birthday: that she and Harry might be able to graduate early. The letter contained not only their grades from last year, which had gone through the roof, but also grades for enough advance placement summer NEWT exams to qualify for early graduation: a full year early in Harry's case and two years early in Ginny's! What an honor to even be invited by Albus to attempt this, let alone to actually succeed! For all the scholastic accolades that had been heaped on Bill and Percy, this was a truly unique laurel. And furthermore, Harry was being welcomed aboard as a full time assistant professor, while Ginny was being invited to continue on with advanced research for the betterment of the wizarding world. Molly had been so proud of their dedication, so thrilled to see just how excited they both were over their prospects. That was more reason than one could have ever sought to justify a big festive Weasley supper!

But then another owl had come. A personal letter. One that had rather ruined her festive mood. It had arrived yesterday less than an hour before her guests of honor were due to arrive. Nerves had gotten the better of her and, in her distracted state, she had completely ruined what should have been such a proud occasion. Now Ginny and Harry were gone, and along with them went the opportunity for her to ease those anxieties, to gauge whether her worries were valid or completely foolish.

She fiddled with the heavy scroll of parchment on the table. Part of her wanted to just burn it and put it out of her head. She should march forward as an optimist. Make a big breakfast for Ron. Get him ready for tomorrow: his last ever trek on the September Hogwarts Express. Make a big speech to him about how proud he made his parents, how he should take care of himself and apply himself to his studies so that he could have a good future. Ask him to look out for Ginny and Harry, make sure that he let her know that they were doing allright, so she wouldn't have to worry about this letter in front of her containing, in excruciating detail, a testament to how worried Hermione Granger was.

She took a deep breath and unrolled it again.

Dear Mrs. Weasley,

I hope this letter finds you well! Are you looking forward to accompanying Ronald onto platform 9 3/4 for the last time? I will be there, eagerly watching for you!

I have determined from various inquiries that Ginny will not be on the train; that she may even already be at Hogwarts by the time this reaches you, to begin her graduate independent research studies? Is this true? If so, I am certain that this must be very thrilling for you!

The last thing in the world that I would ever want to do is to diminish the pride that you must take in her most surprising sudden graduation. But, I have to confess that I am quite concerned about Ginny. And Harry. I was hoping that I could share with you my concerns and that perhaps we could work together to determine whether or not the concern is valid and what best we might be able to do to help these two of my dearest friends.

When I received my letter and Head Girl badge several weeks ago, I was enthusiastically expecting that Harry would write to me announcing that he had been selected Head Boy. It would have stood to reason, considering how well he had been performing in his classes all last year. But, as has been the case all summer, there was no sign of Hedwig. Finally, I wrote to Hogwarts, explaining that I had been hoping to spend some time before classes interacting with the new Head Boy to plan and coordinate our duties, and I asked who had been selected. I was shocked to learn that Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff had been chosen. Finally, after sending several owls to the school, I was informed three days ago by Professor MacGonagall that Harry had not been chosen as Head Boy because he and one other student had already matriculated this summer and would no longer be Hogwarts students. From subsequent inquiry I learned yesterday that this second early graduate was Ginny.

This all seems so exciting, but I would ask if we could momentarily suspend our pride for their achievements and objectively ask ourselves whether this is all completely healthy? Or fully believable? After all, for five years, Harry was a consistently marginal student. Then suddenly last year in the grip of devastating grief over his dead godfather (the circumstances of which he has stubbornly refused to address or deal with) he defies all expectations, races to best-in-year test scores (yes, I happen to know that he scored higher than me, although admittedly he took fewer courses) then passes five NEWT exams in courses for which he should have required one more year to complete. And consider Ginny: she scored quite well in her second through fourth years, but not quite high enough to warrant nomination for prefecture. Then last year, she too scores best-in-year and, barely out of her OWLs, passes NEWT exams in courses she had not even started yet.

My sincerest congratulations to both of them, but I have kept trying to answer to my satisfaction how on Earth they might have managed to achieve all that so suddenly??

In my last week of school last spring I carried out an independent research project in the Hogwarts library. I profiled test scores, written evaluations and news items associated with scholastic achievements at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang for the last two hundred years. In particular, I was interested in evidence of students who achieved a drastic improvent in both technical and theoretical performance or were widely proclaimed to have a preternatural gift for effortlessly mastering new magical skills. In 200 years through last year, there had only been three students in Europe who clearly met those exceptional criteria. Albus Dumbledore was one. The other two were Gellert Grindelwald and Thomas Marvolo Riddle.

I think perhaps you are now starting to appreciate my concern?

Last year, even before the most startling developments regarding Harry's scholastic transformation were becoming manifest, I had seen increasing cause for worry in his behavior. He had obviously constructed a shell personality: this confident, carefree, outgoing persona that I originally assumed was intended to mask his grief and insecurity. But then as time went on, he began to hide not only his feelings, but also 'himself'. He would spend endless time locked in his office or the Room of Requirement, but never share what it was that he found so all-encompassing. And to further complicate things, Ginny (bless her sweet but naive soul) must apparently have tried to take the initiative to draw him out of his unhealthy isolation, only to become ensnared in it herself. Thus there was soon not one but two students who would sneak away, lock themselves away for hours all alone, jealously guarding their secrets. Sure they would joke around, saying that they were snogging in a broom cupboard or whatnot. Rubbish! Obvious smoke screen! And now that all the test scores are out, now that Harry and Ginny have left all normal school protocol in the dust, now that the school has blessed the continuation of these mysterious extracurricular activities, now it is time to find out what is going on in that metaphorical broom cupboard.

Mrs. Weasley, I need your help. I don't know for certain that Harry has embarked on the terrifying path toward becoming the next horrific dark wizard, sweeping Ginny along in his wake. But if there is even a fraction of a chance it is true, then I know that the selfless, kind Harry Potter that I met six years ago would intervene. The old Harry Potter would want this new Harry Potter stopped. And the old Harry Potter would never risk the corruption of a gentle, caring person like Ginny.

If you believe me that there is some chance these fears may have basis, I can recommend a simple and painless first step that you could take. Please send the headmaster a letter revoking your earlier signed form permitting Ginny's independent studies program. The worst that could come of doing so is that Ginny might have to withdraw from school for a few months until we investigate whether Harry is on a deleterious path. If there is a more innocent explanation underlying all this secrecy and mysterious achievement, then I would be happy to accept responsibility for the action, and you can let Ginny resume her studies.

I have attached a template that you could, if you wish, use as a model for your revocation letter.

Thank you so much for permitting me to share my concerns. My kindest thoughts to you, Ronald, Ginny and all of the Weasleys!

Sincerely,

Hermione

Molly's initial instinct was to worry that Hermione might be on the verge of a paranoid nervous breakdown. As a high profile muggle-born student, surely Hermione was facing terrible strains ralted to her own safety and that of her family. Molly had also sensed that Ron, Ginny and Harry had been moving in different directions and the old support structure might be crumbling for poor Miss Granger at perhaps the worst possible time. Molly had been about to reply to Hermione to try to persuade her to rush right out to the Burrow, throw cares aside for a while, bring her family, celebrate with Ginny and Harry, go shopping together in Diagon Alley, pester Ron about his course preparation. But then she had let second thoughts take root.

Ginny's and Harry's academic transformation was rather unusual, wasn't it? Even beyond school, Harry certainly had proven himself to be a master or secrecy — his alternate identity rushing into battle against death eaters, then vanishing without a trace had thrown the Order into a bit of an uproar. And Ginny, always an independent spirit, seemed to trust and follow him, almost blindly. Disappearing with him to who knows where. Reappearing just as suddenly with a big smile and a completely new wardrobe. And then there was this whole thing about magical prowess. The order had only seen a little of Ginny in the dangerous settings that Harry now frequented, but it was starting to seem that her youngest child, her only daughter, was walking around with the sudden confidence of a mature, powerful witch. Bill had found her guarding the family of muggles in Kent; when Bill tried to evacuate her she had stupefied him rather than walk prematurely away from what she had seemed to view as her responsibilities. Then three or four Order members had been breathless spectators in Diagon Alley as Harry and Ginny (her babies!) had faced down He Who Must not be Named completely on their own for five whole minutes until Albus took over.

Molly shivered violently, sloshing coffee down her arm.

And finally there was Albus himself. He, the most powerful wizard of the past century, had completely failed in his odious attempt to use legilimency on her daughter. He'd been thrown across the room, for Merlin's sake! And when he'd picked himself up off the ground, what had been that look in his eyes? Confusion. Shock. Fear?

And moments later Harry had appear out of nowhere to whisk her daughter off to safety .... some place safe .... some mysterious place that Ginny had referred to as .... home?

Power. Secrets. Innocent children. How long can innocent children with lots of power and too many secrets remain innocent?

Cameron lifted the change box to the counter and checked its contents, making a note on the parchment. She was just beginning to review her inventory notes from last night when ....

"CAHH-mer-ohhhnnnn....."

Fred and George were standing behind her wearing grins that were, as always, far too bright for this hour of the morning.

"Pick a Weasley, please." said George, puffing his chest out.

Cameron rolled her eyes, drew her wand and commenced with the ritual. Alternately pointing her wand from one twin to the next and back again, she recited "To-day-is-Tues-day-Weas-leys-Wiz-ard-Wh eez-es-spec-ial-of-the-day-is-For-mo-sa- Fire-Beans!" Her wand landed on Fred.

"Foiled by the beans!" George exclaimed. "That makes three in a row, you rank villain!"

"Luck of the draw old friend." Fred smirked. "You shall go coax our sweet mother from the doldrums. I'll stock the shelves."

"Ugh .... I'll be back by opening bell." George told Cameron grumpily, stepping out the front door and vanishing with a pop.

An instant later he was walking up the back path at the Burrow, trying to avoid getting too much morning dew on his polished blue shoes. He clattered the back door a little more loudly than necessary, to announce his presence and, if lucky, perhaps even jolt Ron out of bed.

Whistling his way into the kitchen he came upon the figure slouched in front of several coffee spills and a roll of parchment.

"Dearest mother, you look like vomit." George proclaimed, grinning broadly.

"Thank you dear." Molly look vaguely in his direction and glanced at the vacant spot to his left. "Where's Fred this morning?"

"You mean George?"

"Sorry Fred. Where's George this morning?" she tried.

"Mother, mother! Tut, tut! I ...." he said, gesturing to himself with both hands, "am George! Do you mean to suggest that after nineteen years you still haven't noticed how much taller and more dashing I am?"

"Whatever, dear."

George frowned. "I think our mother needs more coffee." Waving his wand, he filled her mug and conjured one for himself. He paused to blow on it and take a sip. "Beautiful morning!" he said cheerily.

"Yes dear."

"Thank you for supper last night."

"Yes dear."

"The chickens have hijacked father's lawn .... motor .... thing."

"Yes, whatever, dear."

"Ronald is dangling naked in the beech tree."

"If you say so."

"Gnomes have painted our back fence orange?"

"Whatever dear."

"Ginny accepts apologies; looks forward to seeing you soon."

"If you say so, d.... what??"

George beamed brightly, just a little too close to Molly's face -- she lurched back several inches. "What did you say?"

"Sweet Ginevra and Master Harry hosted us for a late dessert last night. She asked us to please let you know that she accepts your apologies, she regrets the brusk departure and any inadvertent pyrotechnics, and is looking forward to seeing you again soon once they've settled." George was smiling with uncharacteristic warmth as he took another sip of coffee. "I'm paraphrasing of course, but she was very relaxed about it; no sign of lingering pique."

Molly was stunned. She had expected this to take weeks to repair, and had been steeling herself for another long stint as a pariah. What could she say? She started to open her mouth, not certain what would come out, but George had already turned to her with a look of completely foreign sobriety, saying, "This doesn't mean that all of your children are going to let you off the hook quite so easily."

Molly winced, partly from the words and partly because when she had looked in George's eyes right then she had glimpsed, unbidden, a memory of her own father long ago giving the then-schoolgirl Molly much the same look. Her father had loved to laugh .... but he could also be very stern.

Finally she shrugged. "I'm sorry George. Maternal instincts are the hardest instincts to suppress. Someday you'll know what I mean."

George turned back to her, gave her a steely look for a moment and then let it dissolve in a twinkle. "Mother dear, I think you greatly overestimate my chances of acquiring maternal instincts. There are some basic biological limitations that are difficult to ...."

Molly burst into cathartic laughter.

George grinned for a moment and turned to look out the window, saying "But in all seriousness, when you next get Ginny back into the Burrow I think you will find her to be a gracious .... guest. If the rest of us behave with a modicum of decency, I believe we'll see much the same sweet sister we have all come to love. But if certain individuals push all the same wrong buttons as were repeatedly bludgeoned last night, I'm guessing that there will come a point where she will smile her sweet sisterly smile, grab her Harrykins, and fly the hell out of here again. So, whatever those maternal instincts may be trying to tell you, please think twice before speaking down to her and do not, under any circumstances ...." he turned back to face Molly with expressionless candor ".... order an increasingly mature adult to, as you most gracelessly phrased .... 'go to your room'."

And there it was, all the angst and tension crystallized into a single painful memory: Bill hammering away again about responsibility to the Order, Ginny's composure fraying as the barriers to her overt irritation crumbled, Harry starting rise from his seat, and ....

"I panicked!" Molly blurted out.

"Fair characterization." George agreed. "Doesn't make it any less stupid though."

"It was escalating. Bill doesn't listen to me when he gets that way. I needed to break the spiral. I thought ...."

"That you could order Ginny out of the room and keep the peace? When Ginny wasn't the one being an inflexible, pompous cad?" George's voice was controlled but serious. "I think perhaps we should just pretend, Mum, that you didn't .... think .... period. It's just easier that way."

"Okay." Molly paused for a long moment to gaze out toward nothing in particular, stuggling with her resolve. She found enough to muster her last point. "George, what you said a minute ago though.... Please don't delude yourself. Ginny is not a grown woman. I know I sound like somebody's mother, but she's still underage. She's sixteen years old, George. She doesn't have the experience to make all of these real world decisions yet."

"You haven't seen her in her element, Mum."

"Yes, I'm sure that's part of the problem." Molly grumbled.

"Well you'll be happy to know that this should be changing pretty soon. Earlier this summer Harry and Ginny started leading some defense training for adults. Dumbledore met with them a couple weeks before their NEWTs and apparently agreed to add an adult course to their Hogwarts responsibilities." George paused to take another swallow of coffee. "I don't know anything of the arrangements myself, but if Dumbledore is sanctioning the exercises, then you can assume that they have agreed to coordinate with the Order."

"Really?"

"I don't know. So don't bother telling anyone about this, because as far as you know right now this is just another half-cocked Fred-George speculation." He grinned. "But when word comes out, please remember who told you first!"

"Bill will be so relieved when he hears that!"

"Don't tell him yet, please? This news is either for Dumbledore or Harry to share. Or Ginny."

"I promise. Thank you for telling me though."

"S'no problem Mum." He glanced outside to gauge the sun's growing brightness. "I have to get back to the Alley. Going to be one last swarm of students today before the Express leaves. Business should be quite lively!"

Molly grabbed his hand. "I'm grateful that you stopped by this morning George! Thank you again! But can I ask just one more thing?"

"Certainly, Mater mea!"

"Could you please read .... uh .... this?" she pushed Hermione's letter toward him. "And promise me that you won't tell anyone? Especially not Ginny or Harry!"

George raised an eyebrow, but nodded and accepted the parchment. He turned toward the window again, coffee in one hand, unfurled letter in the other. He began to scan through it, snickered momentarily, then continued as Molly eyed him nervously. About half way through he blinked, shook his head a little and poured the last bit of coffee into his mouth. He had barely resumed reading, when ....

"Pfffffffffffft!!" He sprayed a fine mist of coffee droplets over two pots of begonias. He wiped his mouth and turned to Molly with a slightly delirious look in his eyes. "Sweet, naive, ever-loving soul of Merlin!" he wheezed, "Percy writes like a nursery school flunky compared to this chickadee!"

Wide-eyed, he bit down on his lip and turned back to the letter. Several moments later, he started twitching, breath ragged, emitting little noises that sounded like "eeepff!"

"George, are you allright?" asked Molly, rising from the table in growing alarm.

Still facing the window, still twitching, he put down his coffee cup and raised his empty hand, wheezing "Calming draught .... please!"

Molly had made a batch for herself just the previous night and there were still several doses left. She grabbed his coffee cup, darted to the counter, poured an ample serving and handed it to him. He downed it in a single gulp, took a deep breath and turned again to face her. With wild, stricken-looking eyes, he nodded vigorously, pointed at the letter, saying "This.... S'funny! ..... Really funny!"

Molly did not think she should be exactly terrified by this response, but she was also still struggling to grasp the angle by which this could be so amusing. She stared at George until the calming draught took hold.

He attempted two very deep breaths. Managing the second one without obvious choking, he wiped a grin off his face with his hand and said, "This is absolutely brilliant!" He gesticulating enthusiastically at the letter again before tossing it unceremoniously onto the table. "It's putrid gibberish! It's dangerous cantankerous filth, but it's the most exquisitely distilled farcical assininity I've ever seen!"

"George!" Molly scolded. "Hermione is our friend. I don't want to believe this any more than you do, but everyone knows that she's very smart and I find it difficult to argue beyond all shadow of doubt against the points she raises."

"Perhaps Hermione is our friend the same way that Percy is my brother." George sneered sardonically. "And the more I think of if, the more I say that the Ministry should just waive all entrance and tenure requirements, pluck this girl straight out of Hogwarts and appoint her Senior Undersecretary Responsible for the Insertion of Blunt Oblong Objects into ...."

"George!!"

The way George was grinning, it was clear that he didn't need to finished the sentence in order to enjoy it. He didn't laugh though. He had a serious mission to complete, and fortunately the calming draught was giving him just enough self control to focus on the prize. He again ran a hand over his face to reset his expression and fixed Molly with a face of sincere sobriety. "Listen Mum," he began, "I agree that Harry and Ginny have been secretive, but they've had good reason. You, dad, Fred, Ron, me, we all know that. And yes, they've changed. They have so changed! But it's good change. Not long ago they were nice kids. Now they're nice, strong, confident, caring adults. It's like they're the cool aunt and uncle that we can go to with problems that we might feel awkward talking to parents about. It's not just Fred and me. You should hear Katie, Angelina and Lee after training. And when Alicia died, Ginny and Harry were there with us for hours, listening, saying helpful little things that made us feel a little bettter; made us feel more like we had the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other; the strength to work together, stand up for ourselves and survive. The Order keeps telling us to keep out of the way and they'll protect us. Harry's idea .... and this is every bit as much Ginny's style now too .... is to teach us what we can do for ourselves whenever the almighty Order flubs a clue and we find ourselves face to face with death eaters."

He paused, but his gaze didn't waiver, his eye's didn't flicker or blink. "Miss Granger named three names right here." He jabbed his finger down about half way through the letter. "The one thing in common with those three names is control. They all eat, breathe, and live control. Control is power; power is control. Everything for them is control." He jabbed his finger down on the letter again emphatically. "For Harry and Ginny, everything is about helping people help themselves. They want people to survive, live happy lives, raise children who can live free and happily. Harry and Ginny don't give one crusty knut for control!"

Molly was nodding solemnly, staring down at her hands. The two of them sat in silence for a moment. Finally, she lifted a placemat with ten small fingertip-sized holes in it. "What about this?" she asked.

George laughed softly. "Control." He smiled. "Yes, okay, they would probably give a couple crusty knuts to get Ginny's magic a bit more under control. I'm not at liberty to speak of it right now, but the honest and official word is that it was an accident. Brain frazzled from too much studying. Unofficially, while I can vouch that my sister is displaying patience and reserve completely unbecoming of a Weasley, I would nonetheless suggest for the next little while we all make an effort to avoid acts of excessive provocation?"

Molly nodded. She vanished the placemat.

George thought for a moment. "You might want to vanish the letter too. Or burn it. There are a few people you would not want to have accidentally reading that."

Molly nodded, but before she could complete the characteristic wand movement George sprang between her and the letter. "Wait!" he cried. "I need to re-read a couple choice phrases again. Such artful bureaucratic filth can't just be burned and lost forever!" He fingered through it for a moment then pushed it aside, smiling gleefully. "I'm done. Burn it please."

"Where's breakfast?" Ron mumbled as he staggered in, rubbing his eyes. "What ....?"

With a flamboyant wave, George stepped neatly into the space between Ron and his mother. Appraising his younger but taller brother from head to foot with a critical eye, he shook his head disapprovingly. "The old Ronald Weasley would never risk besmirching his family's distinguished reputation by wearing such garish Chudley Cannons shorts!" he scolded, as Molly used the distraction to discretely incinerate the letter. "The selfless and kind Ronald Weasley I once knew would want this dark and dastardly new Ronald Weasley stopped!!" George's stern tone shattered into a childish giggle. "Oh no, I shouldn't have done that. Now I'm going to giggle uncontrollably and splinch myself across six counties!" His mirth moved toward the living room. "Mother most sweet and gentle, I need to borrow some floo powder to get back to the Alley."

"What ....??" Ron blinked, frowning toward the living room, from which came a howl of unrepressed laughter, followed by the whoosh of George's departure.

Ron scratched his head.

"It's okay dear." Molly reassured him. "George was just reading something funny, that's all."