Star-Crossed

Chapter Thirty: The Burrow

When morning struck we'd arrived at our final destination. The Weasley family residence, a towering house that staggered slightly, looking both rickety and firm at the same time.

The car landed rather harshly, knocking onto the ground as we rolled to a stop near a pig's pen.

We unloaded the car, pulling out the trunks and the owl cages and beginning to walk toward the house. Fred was in the lead, approaching a window carefully and opening it carefully to unlock the door.

"Come on," He whispered pointedly, waving us inside, "Okay, come on. Shh, shh." The coast was clear as we tip-toed into the house.

There was breakfast sitting on the beautiful wooden dining table just inside the door, and Ron's mouth was watering just looking at it. Likewise, my stomach turned, contracting painfully with hunger. Harry and I had both been denied a meal after the incident with the Masons. Our Aunt and Uncle seemed to think starvation was a kind enough punishment.

"Do you think it'd be alright if we had some of this?" Ron turned to his older brothers and asked, noticing the longing in mine and my brother's faces, just staring at the delicious looking Dutch baby pancake.

George flashed us a half smile, a knowing glint in his eyes, "Yeah, Mum would never know."

Harry and I dropped our bags and moved toward the pancake, cutting ourselves generous slices. Ron smiled and nodded as we munched on the food, looking around his beautiful home in complete awe.

"It's not much, y'know, but it's home." Ron remarked, crossing his arms pridefully.

I shook my head in denial as I looked around, mesmerised by the knitting needles moving on their own nearby, "It's brilliant, Ron. It really is."

He looked between the wide eyes on both Harry and I and slowly broke into a grin. But then a sudden shout nearly spooked us all out of our skin.

"Where have you been!" Mrs Weasley was standing in the doorway, her hands pointedly rested on her hips as she glared between her three sons. She looked absolutely furious, and quickly, we all hid the slices of pancake behind our backs, not looking for another scolding.

Her gaze softened when she saw Harry and I among her unruly children.

"Ah, Harry, Natalie, how wonderful to see you dears," She then turned back to Fred and George, her arms now crossed in front of her chest, "Beds empty? Car gone? No note? You could've died! You could've been seen!" Then she turned back to Harry and I, clarifying, "Of course I don't blame you, dears."

Ron then cut in, a desperate expression on his face, "They were starving 'em, mum! There were bars on their window!"

"Well, you'd best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley." She chided, wagging a finger at Ron, who sulked.

Then she turned to Harry and I once again, softening in an instant, it was quite nice, actually, "Come on, you two, time for a spot of breakfast." She led us to the kitchen table as a chorus of footsteps trickled down the stairs and the little girl from last year at the train station skipped into the room.

"Mum." She called, "Mummy, have you seen my jumper?"

Mrs Weasley nodded and pointed into the living room, "Yes, dear. It was on the cat."

But the girl was staring wide eyed at my brother, a tinge of pink spreading over her cheeks. I fended off a snicker as Harry awkwardly waved and muttered.

"Hello..." But she turned tail and sprinted away, shocking my brother.

He looked at Ron and I who were grinning, amused with the interaction, "W-what did I do?"

Ron shrugged, "Ginny, she's been talking about you all summer. Bit annoying, really."

I elbowed Harry in the ribs, smirking as we took our seats at the table. He glanced at me, brows raised, then lowered in a scowl as he knew what I was teasing about.

Just as we all began to serve ourselves the wonderful food Mrs Weasley was laying on the table, another member of the family walked through the front door. I assumed it was their father, Mr Weasley.

"Mornin' Weasleys," He called cheerfully, setting down his briefcase.

"Morning, Dad." The Weasley children chorused. Percy entered the room and nodded sharply toward his father and sat down at the table, snatching a couple slices of toast as he did.

"Morning, Arthur." Mrs Weasley greeted her husband as he pressed a sweet peck to her cheek and sat at his place at the head of the table.

"Oh, what a night, nine raids!" He chuckled, as though he couldn't believe whatever he was referring to, "Nine!"

I leaned toward Ron, questioning as Harry reviewed him with confusion, "Raids?"

Ron leaned back, "Dad works at the Ministry of Magic. In the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. Dad loves muggles, thinks they're fascinating."

"Well now," Mr Weasley smiled, piling food onto his plate as he glanced around the table, stopping at Harry and I, confusion crossing onto his face, "And who are you?"

"Oh-" Harry stopped and gestured to the two of us, "We're Harry and Natalie, sir. Harry and Natalie Potter."

He stopped, eyes bugging even wider now, "Good Lord, are you really?" He grinned, then began to cut up his breakfast ham, "Ron's told us all about you, of course. When did they get here?"

Mrs Weasley turned around, hovering over her husband as she chided, "This morning, your three youngest sons flew that enchanted car of yours to Surrey and back last night."

"Did you really?" Mr Weasley perked up, seeming ecstatic that they'd made the trip, "How'd it go?"

His wife, however, was not so keen and spun around again, smacking her husband with the wash towel.

"Arthur!" She scolded.

Everyone at the table besides Percy and Mrs Weasley were desperately trying not to laugh.

"I mean," Mr Weasley amended, "that was very wrong, boys. Very wrong of you, indeed. Now, Harry...Natalie, you must know all about muggles. Tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

"Oh, erm-" I paused, glancing at my brother unsurely as he glanced back.

A sharp screech of an owl interrupted the conversation, allowing me to breathe out a sigh of relief as Harry snickered.

"Well, that'll be Errol with the post." Mr Weasley remarked. Said owl soared toward the house and smacked straight into the window with a loud thunk.

A collective 'ohhh' fluttered across the table as Mr Weasley frowned and spoke, "Oh, fetch it will you, Percy?"

The eldest present son got up with a heaving sigh and walked over to the window just as the poor old bird hopped up onto the perch.

"Errol..." Percy muttered scoldingly as he plucked the letters from the owl's mouth.

"He's always doing that," Ron rolled his eyes, going back to his breakfast.

Percy walked back to the table and reviewed the letters, flicking through them, "Oh look, it's our Hogwarts letters. And they've sent us Harry's and Natalie's as well."

Mr Weasley hummed, "Well, Dumbledore must know you're here. Doesn't miss a trick, that man."

"Oh no," Mrs Weasley nodded in agreement.

Fred frowned as we all sifted through our letters, "This lot won't come cheap, mum. The spell books alone are expensive."

"We'll manage." Mrs Weasley brushed the comment off, patting Fred on the back, "Right then, there's only one place we're going to get all of this; Diagon Alley."

I looked up, the mention of the place bringing me back to the excitement of the first time Harry and I had gone. Hogwarts was creeping up on us quicker than we could compute.

September first was tomorrow after all.