Peace at Home

The cool summer breeze rustled pleasantly through the trees overhanging the road. Arthur Weasley enjoyed walking in the evening but didn't often get the chance. Tonight, he and the rest of his team had made a major break in a case they were working on and he felt he deserved a rest. He had traveled to the house of a nearby friend and was walking the rest of the way home. He sighed, breathing in the fresh night air as he kneaded at the knots of stress in his shoulders. What I need, he thought, is a good holiday. Just some time to relax. As he continued walking down the deserted road away from town, the streetlights became fewer and further between and moonlight lit more and more of his path. The splotches of light on the road alternated sodium-yellow and moonlit-silver. The leaves cast odd shaped shadows on the ground, shifting and reforming in different patterns with the wind. Arthur caught scattered glimpses between branches of distant trees lit with a faint, unearthly light. As the road narrowed, meandering through the countryside, the streetlights became fewer and fewer and the trees became less dense. Soon, Arthur was able to make out the distinct glow of a sickly colored light source somewhere beyond the trees. Slightly apprehensive, Arthur gripped his wand in his pocket and walked faster. Rounding a bend in the road, Arthur had a clear view down the small lane that lead to the Burrow. The actual house was still obscured by trees, but looming over the property, twinkling with a thousand stars against the black sky, was the image of a hideous skull. Crawling out of the mouth and winding around the ghastly head was an ominous serpent. The terrible light of the Dark Mark cast a greenish pall over the area.

Arthur froze at the sight of the gruesome sign in the sky. Cold fear seized his stomach and his heart clenched hard in his chest. His legs grew weak with dread and he could barely swallow. He stood still for what felt like hours as a deadly chill ran through his body. When his joints finally loosened, Arthur ran down the lane, dreading what he'd find at his home.

Images flashed through his head as he sprinted towards the house.


Fire leapt from the windows and danced along the roof. Molly hung out of a second story window, screaming for help. A sinister figure standing in front of the house laughed and laughed....

Arthur shook his head fiercely as he reached the end of the lane. He could finally see the Burrow unobstructed by trees. The house appeared to be untouched. He stopped running and gaped up at the Dark Mark that still lingered in the sky. If it weren't for the Mark, everything would look perfectly normal. Then Arthur looked back down and saw that the door had been blown off its hinges. He ran to the house, then stopped in the doorway at the sight of the living room. Bits of broken wood covered the floor. Book covers and pages and bindings were strewn about the room. Broken glass lay around the grandfather clock. On the far side of the room near the foot of the stairs, Arthur's family was collapsed in a heap on the floor. With a hoarse shout, Arthur ran to them, stumbling on the loose wood. Bill and Charlie were curled up with arms around each other, fast asleep, their chests rising and falling rhythmically. Tears had left trails running down their smudged, dirty faces. Molly was kneeling, her body bent towards the floor. She swayed slightly back and forth, weeping and clutching something to her chest. Arthur placed his hand gently on her shoulder and murmured her name. She leaned her head back and began to wail.

"What is it Molly? Are you all okay?" Arthur asked anxiously. Fear still lingered cold in his stomach and bitter in the back of his throat.

Molly continued to cry wordlessly. Hot tears poured down her distorted face. Arthur kneeled down next to his wife and held her tightly by the shoulders. "What is it," he repeated. Molly still would not look at him, but she held out the bundle she had been clutching so tightly. Arthur gasped at the limp body of his youngest son. The boy who was usually so full of energy lay motionless in his mother's arms. No, thought Arthur desperately, not Andy. He can't be.... Oh god, not my boy....

Numb with shock, Arthur took the lifeless child from Molly. Molly clung to her husband, hiccupping as she sobbed. Arthur numbly put his arm around her and held her close. "It'll be all right, it's gonna be okay," Arthur murmured into her hair, rocking her back and forth like he would a frightened child. He turned and looked again at Andy's pale face. Slow tears began to drip down his own face. "It'll be okay," he whispered.