They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.

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 it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was).

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 said self-deprecating-ly, a light blush on his cheeks and climbing to his ears.

"Not much?" Cassiopeia was astounded. "It's magnificent!"

"It's wonderful!" Harry added to the exclamation. He was thinking of his small cupboard and loaned bedroom. Flashes of Cassiopeia's tiny room also crossed his mind. It was a home. Ron had a home. Not just shelter from the outside.

They got out of the car.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, flashing Cassiopeia and Harry a reassuring grin when they glanced at him with widened eyes and stumbled in their steps. "We'll w ait 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 meet Cassiopeia and no one need ever know we flew the car."

Harry and Cassiopeia exchanged glances.

Do you think that'll work? Cassiopeia seemed to ask with her imploring doe eyes.

Harry snorted and clasped hands with her, shaking his head. No chance in hell.

They knew this and yet, they just weren't prepared for the storm that was Mrs. Molly Weasley.

"Right," Ron nodded before glancing back at the two guests. "Come one, Harry, Cassiopeia, I sleep at the - at the top" Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The twins wheeled. Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

"Ah," said Fred.

"Oh dear," added George.

Harry and Cassiopeia's grip tightened on each other. They took a step back, not expecting such hostility and anger to be radiating from the woman. Would she blame them for her sons sneaking out?

"Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, 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 said in an eerily quiet voice that made Cassiopeia flinch.

She was all too familiar with the calm before the storm. The soft voice that belied danger and lulled you into a false security before viciously tearing you apart.

Subtly, Harry tugged Cassiopeia a half-step behind him, keeping his one hand entwined with hers and rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. Neither of their eyes left the obviously enraged matriarch.

"Morning, Mum," said George in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice much to Harry and Cassiopeia's horror.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been," started Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper. This time Harry couldn't keep in his flinch and shuddered, his nails digging into the palm of the hand not holding onto Cassiopeia.

"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 - 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-"

"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred, rolling his eyes and scoffing as if he knew something she didn't. Harry and Cassiopeia's heart thundered.

No! Cassiopeia mentally screamed, terror ridden. You don't ever speak when they're mad! It makes it so much worse!

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest.

Harry flinched harshly, noticeable more than the other flinches while a yelp escaped Cassiopeia. Ron turned slightly to them, eyes narrowing at the guarded look they both sported, observing Cassiopeia as she seemed to brace herself for a blow.

Ron knew things weren't alright with Harry. The passing offhanded comments he had made is what had sparked his worry for his friend this summer after all. It was what drove Ron to write to his Mum about staying at Hogwarts last Winter break.

Ron was always the youngest brother. His older siblings may annoy him, but he knew they were there to always support him as well, even Percy. When they had learned about him wanting to stay with Harry at the castle during Winter break, Percy had drafted the letter to send for their parents, telling him in affirmative terms that he wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts without them too.

But now, Ron knew what it felt like to be the older brother. Granted he did have Ginny, but that was his little sister. Harry was his little brother. One Ron had chosen.

So glancing back at his mum, Ron took a step forward, standing in front of Harry and Cassiopeia, who he knew were too busy trying to appear as if everything was normal for them to notice his actions.

"You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job-" it seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry and Cassiopeia, shooing Ron away from his place, who backed away.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she started before pausing at the sight of Cassiopeia.

Her mouth seemed to pinch before straightening again, and Cassiopeia wasn't sure if she had really seen the expression or not.

"And who are you?" The question was fair, it was her house after all, but for some reason, Cassiopeia got the feeling that Mrs. Weasley didn't like her even though she hadn't even spoken a word yet.

Cassiopeia's grip tightened on Harry, who squeezed her hand. I'm here.

"This is Cassiopeia, Mrs. Weasley," Harry drew the woman's attention back to him. Her eyes seemed to have softened when he glanced at her before quickly turning his gaze to her nose. "She was with me when Ron and the twins came. She's my little sister," Harry explained, an almost pleading edge taking hold in his voice. Cassiopeia had to stay with him, she just had too.

Mrs. Weasley turned tense, her expression fixed when Harry told her the raventte's name. With an obviously forced smile only Cassiopeia saw she said, "Nice to meet you," and quickly turned back to Harry. "Come in and have some breakfast." She turned and walked back into the house. Harry, after a nervous glance at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her, hand still holding onto Cassiopeia's.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle.

Cassiopeia drank the sight in, her hold on Harry lessening slightly as the warmth of magic fluttered and blanketed across her skin.

The clock on the wall only had one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like Time to make tea, Time to feed the chickens, and You're late. Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts- It's Magic!. The old radio next to the sink announced that coming up was "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck."

Harry couldn't contain the laugh at Cassiopeia's bug-eyed expression as she tried to see everything in the house. He wouldn't be surprised if there were about a hundred questions burning to be spilled at the tip of her tongue.

He gently pushed her into a chair at the table, before taking a seat next to her. Ron and the twins also took their seats, watching Cassiopeia's expression change from shock to wonder to awe and then back again in amusement, not that she took any notice.

Mrs. Weasley was clattering around cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know what you were thinking of" and "never would have believed it."

"I don't blame you, dear" she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. Harry attempted to return the smile, discreetly placing half of the sausages onto Cassiopeia's plate when Mrs. Weasley's back was turned.

" Just last night we were saying, Arthur and I, we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate which he then promptly shared with Cassiopeia and Ron). "flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you'" she flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped .

" They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

Harry and Cassiopeia tensed. Harry for the information being said so bluntly and Cassiopeia for the reaction said information brought. Most adults reacted strongly to such accusations, even if nothing ever seemed to be done and afterwards it appeared as if they didn't even remember learning that information and called her a liar. The initial reaction was always explosive.

"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him before she returned to the kitchen.

Cassiopeia blinked.

Then blinked again.

She doesn't think she's ever witnessed an adult be so dismissive of those claims.

A set of footsteps pattering down the stairs could be heard and the boys as well as Cassiopeia turned to see who had entered the room. A bushy-haired Percy Weasley came in, eyes seeming to roam quickly over his brothers, alert, before relaxing and passing a critical eye over Harry. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Cassiopeia.

Glancing at Fred, Percy raised an eyebrow, getting a nod back in return. Shoulders slumped in relief, Percy slumped into the chair next to Cassiopeia, holding a hand out.

"Percy Weasley," he introduced, shaking the hesitant hand that reached out and clasped his gently. "Pleasure to meet you. And to see you again Harry." He smiled at the two before turning to get breakfast for himself.

"Hi Percy," Harry greeted. "This is Cassiopeia, she's like my little sister. She'll be a first year," he explained while Cassiopeia cautiously bit into a sausage, her face lighting up at the taste. "Good summer?"

A slight blush appeared before Percy hastingly shoved a pile of eggs into his mouth and nodded.

Interesting Cassiopeia thought, head tilted.

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry and Cassiopeia. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer." He nodded to Harry with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word.

Cassiopeia glanced teasingly at Harry, but one pointed look kept her from saying a word and had her taking a bite of her eggs, a pleased smirk playing on her lips.

Nothing more was said until all five plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"Blimey, I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and -"

"You will not," snapped Mrs. Weasley. Startling Harry and Cassiopeia, who were unprepared for the loud noise. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to degnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again -"

"Gnomes?!" Cassiopeia whisper-exclaimed. Although, perhaps it hadn't been quiet enough because Percy chuckled and flashed her a small smile when she glanced at him in alarm at being heard. Well, isn't that embarrassing.

"Oh, Mum -"

"And you two," she said, glaring at Ron and George.

"You can go up to bed, dear," she added to Harry. "Percy can show you both the way," she added with a cursory glance at Cassiopeia.

But Harry, who felt wide awake, said quickly, "I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming-"

"I'll help too," Cassiopeia quickly added. As much as the Weasley males made her feel comfortable, Cassiopeia couldn't help the discomfort she felt. The dismissal from the Weasley matriarch wasn't new to her, so no, that hadn't bothered her a bit, but Cassiopeia still felt awkward nonetheless.

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling warmly at Harry and ignoring Cassipeia's offer of help.

"Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject -" And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece.

George groaned, c ausing Cassiopeia and Harry to give him curious looks while Fred, Percy and Ron exchanged suffering glances.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden -" Harry looked at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests .

There was a big photograph on the front of a very good looking wizard with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. As always in the wizarding world, the photograph was moving; the wizard, who Harry supposed was Gilderoy Lockhart, kept winking cheekily up at them all. Mrs. Weasley beamed down at him.

"Oh, he is marvelous," she said. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book . . . ."

"Mum fancies him," said Fred, in a very audible whisper.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink.

Cassioopeia snorted, hiding an innocent smile when Harry shot her a disapproving look.

You may not like her, but she's our host.

So we'll forget about the blatant favoritism? Cassiopeia raised her eyebrows, attempting to imitate his own stern expression. Harry stifled an amused grin because did Cassiopeia look stern? Only if one could make a baby bunny look strict.

No, Harry shook his head incredulously. We just don't draw attention.

"All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it." Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys slouched outside with Harry , Cassiopeia, and Percy behind them.

The garden was large. There were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.

"Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know," Harry told Ron as they crossed the lawn. Ahead of them Cassiopeia and Percy seemed to be in a deep discussion regarding the same topic.

It brought a smile to Harry's face, seeing Cassiopeia skip happily while she chirped responses. While it may not have been a Weasley he would've thought she'd befriend, he was happy she felt welcomed. Or at least welcomed by most of his friends' family.

Harry had only interacted with Mrs. Weasley once, at the end of his first year, and she had given him a Christmas present, so he had thought she was a good person. But even he had noticed the glances and dismissive attitude she held towards Cassiopeia. The others may not have seen it, but he had, and he'd be damned if someone mistreated his sister.

Gone, not completely, but enough, was the Golden Boy-Who-Lived mask he wore last year. He was Hadrian Potter, and he would protect his own.

"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods . . . ."

There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up. "This is a gnome," he said grimly.

"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" squealed the gnome.

It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head exactly like a potato.

Nearby, they could hear Cassiopeia's questions about the difference in appearance of gnomes and Percy stumbling over an answer. Fred and George had turned around, watching, laughing and shoving each other with mirth as Percy struggled to keep up with Cassiopeia's train of thought.

Better him than us was the consensus amongst the remaining boys.

Turning back to the task at hand, Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down."This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso.

Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, "It doesn't hurt them –you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnomeholes." He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.

"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off - until "Wow, Harry - that must've been fifty feet."

The air was soon thick with flying gnomes. Cassiopeia sat on the ground, leaning against Harry's legs and kept a tally of everyone's scores. They hadn't decided on what the winner won, but it was the fun of the bet that mattered.

"See, they're not too bright," said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."

Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.

"They'll be back," said Percy as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here."

"Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny . . . ." Ron added.

Just then, the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house.

Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned ..."

Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad." said Fred eagerly.