Never Is Our Always

The Burrow

(Minnie pov)

"That's the main road," George said, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light..."

A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east, I watch in awe as the sun was slowly starting to rise.

Fred brought the car lower.

"We're a little way outside the village," George mentioned. "Ottery St. Catchpole."

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.

"Touchdown!" Fred said as, with a slight bump, the car hit the ground. We had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked.

Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW.

Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much," Ron told us as I smiled while I looked around.

"It's wonderful," Harry said happily.

We got out of the car.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," Fred whispers, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car."

"Right," Ron said. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the at the top-"

Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other three wheeled around before I did too.

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

"Ah," Fred cringed.

"Oh, dear," George mumbled.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of us, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"So," she says.

"Morning, Mum," George said, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" Mrs. Weasley asks in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to-"

All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone, you could have crashed! out of my mind with worry! did you care? never, as long as I've lived, you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy-"