A/N: I know that I have a few other stories in the works right now, but I just got into such a Harry Potter frenzie lately that I had to write this out. If any of you actually read it, I am a little stuck on Firelily and may need a little time to rethink the chapter I am working on; I've rewritten it at least a dozen times so far.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.

Chapter 1

An elderly man stared outside his dark window at the dimly lit room he was taking care of next door to his own quaint home. He lit the fire for his late night cup of tea trying to remember if for some reason he had left the light on. He jumped into action when he realized that he had not in fact left the light on and jumped to the wall where he kept his set of keys deciding that an intruder was in the building and needed to be removed.

He wobbled quickly through the hilly space between his house and the property he cared for until he could quietly unlock the unfortunately squeaky door. He tiptoed through the house up the stairs where he could hear voices speaking in hushed yet stern tones.

"No my lord, I only meant, perhaps if we were to do it without the twins," a man resembling Peter Petigrew suggested.

"No!" A voice from the chair in the room that the caretaker was looking at snapped angrily at Petigrew, "The twins are everything!" Another man skinny and slightly unkempt ran next to the chair. "It cannot be done with them, and it will be done exactly as I say!"

"I will not disappoint you my lord," the man next to him promised.

"Good."

A large python slithered up the stairs and through the caretaker's feet who jumped back and bit his finger to keep from letting out a shriek of surprise.

"First, gather our old comrades, send them another sign."

The snake slithered into the room where the men were talking and began to slither out the familiar language of parcel tongue to the men. The snake traveled up the side of the chair to look into the eyes of the man next to it then back to the man sitting within the old chair. The caretaker looked in baffled at the men's loss of fear of the large predator.

"Nagini tells me, the old muggle caretaker is standing just outside the door," the man in the chair rasped. Petigrew came to the door and opened it farther.

"Step aside Wormtail, so that I can give our guest a proper greeting."

Petigrew stepped to the side after leaving the caretaker with a mischievous smirk. The caretaker filled with a sense of sudden dred lifted his hands in defense, feeling as though something bad should occur.

"Avada kadavera!"

A flash of green and a sudden jolt of pain shot through my spine. I gasped and arched my back to lift it from the scratchy cotton bedding I was sleeping on. I quickly fell onto the floor trying to relieve my back from the burning sensation. After a few heavy breaths I was able to calm my racing heart. I looked up to Ginny who was still sleeping in her flowery lilac bedspread. She had thankfully not awoken from my sudden outburst.

I shakily stood up and walked over to the mirror she had hanging in her room and lifted up my nightshirt to look at my back. The long twisting lines that followed along my spine like a tree were all enflamed. I touched one branch that curved up from the middle of my back to fall just below my shoulder blade and winced at the shot of pain that went through.

It was often assumed by the general public of wizards and witches, that I had not contracted a scar as my brother did because Voldermort had decided to kill my brother first and then myself, and therefore he had died before he had the chance to try to kill me, leaving me without a scar. That presumption was of course entirely a myth. Both my brother and I had been targeted by the attack that day and had been left with scars that we would bare our entire lives.

I opened up my trunk, which I kept at the foot of my bed that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had set up for me and dug through it until I found the salve I had kept inside a small drawstring bag. Snape, one of the few who knew of my scar, had crafted it for me one late night after I had been sent to Madam Pomfrey in my first year after a rather nasty attack. Luckily I hadn't felt much of any pain from my scar since my first year, but I would still carry it with me just in case.

After a few moments the pain resided from my back and I slid a white cami, large shear white button up shirt, and a pair of tight skinny jeans on since it was nearly time for the rest of the house to get up anyway. I quickly brushed my hair and pulled some pieces away from my face to pin in the back. I found a pair of white canvas shoes then ran down to the kitchen where I could already hear Mrs. Weasley bustling about.

"Good morning, what can I do for you," I greeted Mrs. Weasley and pulled one of the many lacy and overly decorated aprons from the peg on the wall to wrap around myself.

"Good morning my little morning flower," Mrs. Weasley perkily looked about until she found me to the left of her and patted my cheek with a motherly smile. "Would you like to start the bacon, it's on the left top shelf in the cold room." I nodded and retrieved it from what would be a pantry in a normal muggle kitchen but instead was given an enchantment to keep the room as a cold as a refrigerator.

I started to cook the mounds of bacon that should be able to feed a small platoon but instead could feed only a few Weasley boys. After the fourth batch of bacon the front door was forced open by luggage that could barely fit through it followed by an aggressive Hermione who was frustrated by the loads bags and trunks she had forced through the front door. Once she was able to finally get through the door herself she released the spell that kept the luggage afloat with a huff and blew a few strands of hair out of her face.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," she sighed with half a smile, still recovering from the struggle.

"Hello dear." Mrs. Weasley wiped her eggy hands on her apron then scurried over to greet Hermione with a hearty hug. Hermione's eyes bugged at me from over Mrs. Weasleys shoulder. I smirked and placed another six pieces of bacon onto the griddle.

"Are the boys awake yet," she asked after Mrs. Weasley released her.

"At this hour? Of course not, the sun hasn't set yet," Mrs. Weasley joked. "Why don't you go and wake the house if you don't mind, breakfast is almost ready."

I had to make another three batches of bacon until Mrs. Weasley said that it was finally enough for the boys. By the time I had finished the bacon and had finished up the toast that Mrs. Weasley had started Hermione had all the boys sluggishly crawling down the stairs. Giny made her way down all on her own. I glanced at Harry and noticed a shiny spot on his forehead where his hair stuck. He was feeling some pain as well. I bit the inside of my cheek and pulled the last pieces of toast from the pan into the basket that Mrs. Weasley had them placed in.

"Ronald, get your head up off the plate," Mrs. Weasley scolded. He responded with a grumble. Hermione came from the upstairs bathroom with a book in her hand.

"Ronald, get your head up off the plate," she scolded and took her normal seat at the table.

"I swear! I can't even tell who is who anymore between the two of you," he grumbled into his plate before picking his head up. He went right back to leaning his head against his arm with his eyes nearly shut. "Why aren't Charlie, Bill, and Percy up, but we have to be?"

"Because they have all passed their O.W.L.S. and they passed the apparation test," Molly snapped at two very somber twins who were reminded everyday of their mothers disapproval of their poor exam grades.

Molly began to place the food out on the table; in the time it had taken me to just cook the bacon, she had prepared two quiches, homemade marmalade, scones, and warmed up an extra ham pie that she had cooked up the night before just in case Ron's appetite spiked again through the night. I picked up the turkey platter full of bacon and placed it right in front of where all four of the boys were sitting. They all immediately perked up to the smell of the meat in front of them.

"So that's the trick," Hermione laughed to herself.

"Good morning everyone!" Mr. Weasley waltzed into the kitchen holding his newspaper. He sat down and began to smear some marmalade onto a piece of toast. I poured him a cup of tea then moved down the line of the table.

While living at the Dursleys, I leave the cooking to both Harry and Aunt Petunia; I had proved a very unable muggle cook in my years at their house. Whenever Harry and I would spend time with the Weasleys I liked to help Molly out with the cooking as much as I could since she would teach me some very easy spells on how to cook with magic. I still was not nearly as good as she was.

We all ate our breakfast then waited for the boys to get changed and pack their bags for the day. I had already packed the night before; I planned and prepared for everything.

"Why don't you give me Harry and your lists for this year, just in case you're not back in time for the year to start, dear." Molly handed me a piece of parchment and a quill to write down the materials that we still needed for the year. I pulled out a few gold pieces I had left over from the previous year. I would restock on money every summer before heading to Hogwarts; I hadn't spent as much as I had thought though my third year.

I started to hear the thundering of the boys all running down the stairs, awake enough now to remember their excitement for the match we would soon be going to. I heard a sudden crash that made me jump, Mrs. Weasley simply carried about reading over the list I finished; she had grown accustomed to the noise and bustle. A few seconds later I could see Fred sliding down the stairs roughly and landing at the bottom of them with a solid thud.

"You're going to pay for that you blasted slug eater!"

"Here we go," I sighed.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. In case you were wondering, I decided to mix the movie and the books. I also decided to keep the fashion more modern since I am not entirely well versed in nineties fashion and am not a fan of it either. As always, criticism is more than welcome. It is how I learn to become a better author.