Disclaimer: All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.
Author's Note: The first eight chapters were written before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince came out, therefore this story doesn't pay any attention to what the lovely Ms. Rowling (or should I say Murray?) said in the aforementioned book. Now, let's get on with the story. By the way, this is set in the summer after Order of the Phoenix. The story may or may not extend beyond the summer, I haven't decided for sure yet. Snotty author's note over, so let's get to the story!
CHAPTER 1: New Arrival
"Can I keep him?"
Mrs. Weasley simply stared, looking back and forward between her daughter and the young man standing in front of the fireplace, dripping wet.
Ginny looked imploringly at her mother.
"My Gran is dead. Just for a little while. Please?"
"O-of course you may, dear." After the slightest of pauses to allow the shock to wear off, she became her usual self again. "Come, dear, sit at the table here and I'll get a fire going to warm you up. You look like you could use a good meal too. You're half-frozen! Just sit yourself at the table here. Ginny, go get him a blanket from upstairs." Ginny darted off and Mrs. Weasley started bustling around the kitchen. She all but forcibly put the young man into his chair and immediately lit a fire. She started preparing some good hot food and hot chocolate for him at once.
Ginny came back down and started heading over to him with the blanket, but her mother said, "Watch the soup!" and took the blanket from her and put it around the boy's shoulders, scooting his chair closer to the fire.
"Thank you, ma'am. You don't have to fix me anything. I'll leave just as soon as I've warmed up a little bit."
"You most certainly will not. I won't hear of it. You're staying here and that's final. You're what? Fifteen years old? I will not have you out roaming the streets."
"I'll be sixteen tomorrow," he said defensively.
"Sixteen. Well, you're still too young to be alone. You'll stay with us and that's final. I'll send a letter to Dumbledore right now. Ginny, go get me—"
"I'm on my way, Mum," Ginny said, dutifully.
She brought him a steaming mug of cocoa. "Here, dear, drink some of this cocoa; you'll feel better. It's an old family recipe. Your soup is almost ready." She hurried over to the other side of the kitchen to tend to the meal.
"Really, you don't have to—" he started.
"I insist. Now, drink up."
He took a cautious sip. It was good and started to warm him immediately; it was just hot enough without burning his mouth. Perfect. He heard a loud thunk behind him and turned to look at the table. There wasn't just a bowl of soup there. Mrs. Weasley had prepared brown bread that looked as though it'd just been baked, chicken noodle soup, a ham sandwich, and a tall glass of milk.
"The rest have already eaten. Eat up, you look half-starved." Mrs. Weasley came around the table and turned his chair around and pushed him nearer to the table. She took her seat across from him. "Where is Ginny with that writing paper?" she muttered. "Ginny!"
"Here I am, Mum." Ginny came in carrying parchment, ink, and quills and dumped them all on the table.
Mrs. Weasley sat down and started to write. She told Professor Dumbledore that he was here and that he would be staying for the remainder of the summer. No boy deserved to be alone in a time like this. Molly made it respectfully clear in the letter that the boy wouldn't be leaving until they all left for King's Cross. "Ginny, take this upstairs now. I want it Owled to Dumbledore immediately."
Ginny looked like she really wanted to stay, but she held her tongue and left the room—she started running as soon as she was out of her mother's sight. When Ginny reentered the kitchen, the young man she'd brought was still eating at the table. She took a seat next to him and squeezed his hand for moral support.
"Do you want me to tell her?" she asked.
He felt some Gryffindor bravery welling up inside him and said, "No, I'll do it." He pushed the plate a little away. "I woke up this morning and when I went downstairs, I realized that Gran wasn't up yet; she's always up before me. So I went to her room to check on her and make sure everything was okay. She hasn't really been feeling great this summer When I got to her she was shivering and cold, even though she had 3 blankets on. I sat next to her and she told me that she was proud of me for being me and that she wished she'd said something sooner. That it was okay if I wasn't the best at everything, so long as I kept trying. And that she loved my parents and me. And that was it; she stopped breathing was gone. Her eyes just stared at the ceiling. But I didn't know what to do." It was an effort to keep his voice from breaking, but he managed, barely. "I flooed to St. Mungos and told them what had happened. I stayed there most of the day with…my parents. I told them what happened. I told them that Gran loved them. When I left St. Mungos it was raining and I kinda just wandered around London until I ended up at the Leakey Cauldron. I guess I had some notion in the back of my head to go to Diagon Alley. That's where Ginny found me."
"I was on my way back from bringing Fred and George something to eat, since they were working through dinner tonight—George said to tell you they'll be working later than expected—and I went to the Leakey Cauldron to Floo home. That's when I saw him walking, covered with rain. I got him to sit down and tell me what was going on and I brought him here. Can he stay?"
"I don't—" he started.
"Of course he's staying," Mrs. Weasley said, in a tone not to be questioned. She turned kindly to him, "Eat up, dear."
"Really, I'm full. It was delicious. Thank you," the young man told her sincerely.
"Ginny, take him upstairs. Dear, do you want someone to fetch your things for you? Charlie!" she started to call.
"Really, you don't have to…"
"Well, you can wear something of Ron's tonight and I can send on of the boys with you in the morning. I'll not hear another word about it."
Ginny led him up the stairs and past several doors. They came to a door with a peeling sign on it. "Everybody is in here," Ginny said.
Author's Note: So how was it? Good, bad, or ugly? Let me know what you thought. Next chapter will go up in a week; quicker if you review.