Disclaimer: JKR owns whatever you recognize.

A house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.

-:-

the heart of the chestnut tree

Victoire Weasley

In the garden of the Burrow, there's a large chestnut tree that's been there for generations, and every time she visits her ancestral home, Victoire likes to go sit under it and observe the grey clouds and the rolling river and the laughter of her family and just think.

Sometimes, she takes a book or her journal with her so she can read or write, because it's a great place for relaxing, far enough removed from the chaos of the Burrow, and hardly anybody comes over unless they want to check on her. She likes to write while sitting under the branches, loves the feeling of the leaves rustling the top of her head and the wind whistling through the field and the sunshine and rain filtering through the greengreen leaves.

(She sees a rainbow from underneath the tree once, and it sparkles in the sky, and it makes her think that maybe, just maybe, the Burrow might be more her home than Shell Cottage because doesn't it house more memories and more happiness and more rainbows under and above its roof?

But she's Victoire, and she saves the deep thinking for nighttime, so she returns to her urban fantasy novel and keeps the rainbow in the corner of her eye, just in case.)

Once, she'd taken her father's pocket knife out there, have borrowed it momentarily to examine it – well, borrowed without his permission, anyway – and that day, with thunderclouds spinning ominously above her and the water in the river whizzing past, she'd decided to mark the tree as her own.

With not a little difficulty, Victoire had taken the pocket knife and dug it into the strong, mighty trunk of the tree. It sank in after three tries, and it took several more until she managed the task, but after she was done, she found herself remarkably proud of her work, because it's permanent and it's her, and she thinks that maybe someday, future generations of Weasleys will come by and look at the tree and wonder who she was and what her life story was.

Carved deep into the heart of the chestnut tree is her name, Victoire Weasley, written in her lilting cursive, and it remains there to this day.

-:-

kingmaker's hands

Fred Weasley

The thing with Fred is that he's not truly a prankster like his father and namesake, and he's not truly a jokester like his baby sister, but he did inherit one thing from his father, and that's his inventiveness.

He's got kingmaker's hands over any material that can be twisted and formed and shaped into something new. He's invented all sorts of little devices for his family members, and he knows the perfect birthday present for everybody, even if they don't know it themselves, because he's Fred, and that's what he does, builds new things and makes people happy.

Sitting in a couch inside the Burrow one day, playing chess with Rose, he turns to her and asks, "Do you want a snow globe for your birthday, Rosie?"

Rose raises an eyebrow and smiles at him. "You know what I want for my birthday, Fred? I figure, I'm turning seventeen and I'll be getting plenty of expensive and sentimental gifts. So I want you to make something for the Burrow, instead of me. Something like a snow globe, actually, but…I don't know, special."

She's Rose, so he doesn't really bat an eye at this odd request and instead just nods. "All right, Rosie. If that's what you want."

He wins the game of chess, much to her dismay, and sets about making a 'special' snow globe for the Burrow for Rosie. With magic and musical inspiration and a lot of days spent working hard in his bedroom and keeping it a secret from everybody else, he finally finishes the snow globe in time for her birthday.

It's a golden, transparent globe, and inside, it stars two little figures made of magic – a curly-haired, beaming woman and a balding, equally-happy man, both ginger, standing next to each other and occasionally dancing in front of a large, chaotically-built and magically-made house that bears a bit of a resemblance to the Burrow.

"It's wonderful!" Rose gasps in delight, turning it over in her hands so confetti drifts down onto the dancing couple in the likeness of her grandparents. "Put it in the Burrow where everyone can see it so all our children can look at it someday, Fred!"

So he does, and years later, he hopes his children will look at that and look at the Fred Weasley engraved on the bottom and be inspired.

-:-

butter knives

James Potter

Even as a child – especially as a child, actually – James had always been rather accident-prone. Although, perhaps, they weren't all accidents and he was just a little loud on occasions, loud enough to break glasses and vases and knock over couches.

But that's all, really, as he often points out to a smirking Albus. "I never did that much damage, Al – except maybe in Malfoy Manor, and those weren't accidents," he points out calmly and assuredly in the face of his brother's smugness (well, maybe not that calm).

Inevitably, every time they have this argument, Albus rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow and says, "And what about the time you blew up the living room of the Burrow and broke Granddad's favorite chair, huh?"

James still winces at the memory.

He'd been young, only about seven, and it really wasn't his fault, he likes to claim, it was mostly Louis, anyways, and they were just having a bit of fun and, really, what was wrong with that? Granddad Arthur had allowed them to play around in the Burrow, and it wasn't their fault they had accidental magic.

Regardless of whose fault it was, though, the fact remains that their magic had accidently (or perhaps on purpose) blown up the living room, scorching almost everything inside the room, including James and Louis themselves and broken one leg of Arthur's favorite chair, which James had been innocently sitting on when his magic exploded.

To this day, the chair is still broken, and Arthur hasn't had the heart to fix it, not after James had quickly stolen a butter knife (well, Grandmum Molly had some pretty scary-looking butter knives) to engrave his name onto the broken leg in an attempt to "make it look better" which only led to more exasperated sighs from the adults.

Still, he has to admit, seeing the name James Potter engraved in a broken chair leg is pretty darn cool, and he hopes that one day, maybe, his children will think so, too.

-:-

the rhythm of the river

Louis Weasley

Unlike his best friend, Louis isn't quite as accident-prone nor as ridiculous with his solutions, so it probably shouldn't have been a surprise that the next time his magic exploded, he didn't break a chair, but instead accidentally, well, left his footprint in the garden forever.

(And maybe forever is being a bit too dramatic, but he's Louis, and if there's one thing he does well, it's drama. He's got to have some kind of edge over his breathtaking sisters and his charmingly hilarious best friend and his plethora of cousins – and just because Lily is actually a professional actress doesn't mean she's better, all right?)

"Anyways," Louis clears his throat and flashes his sister a dazzling smile, though Dominique doesn't look too impressed. "There I was, a wee lad of eight and a half years old, walking along the river bank when my magic decided to randomly explode."

"Magic doesn't just randomly explode," Dominique pipes in, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "because it requires some strong emotion to just burst out of you when you're young and –"

"Would you just let me tell the story?" Louis demands. "Sheesh."

He likes to walk along the river bank, because the water flowing next to him in waves of deep blue makes him feel at peace, and the rhythm of the river is almost soothing, almost soporific for him, and it kind of gives him the feeling that he's home.

And then his magic exploded that one day when he was eight and a half years old and his foot was stuck in the mud by the river bank and by the time Teddy had gotten him free, there was a definite Louis Weasley footprint imprinted in the mud.

No spell can remove it now, and to be honest, Louis isn't sure he wants it to fade, because how amazing would it be for other Weasleys in the future to walk the same steps he did one day?

-:-

sugar and spice

Roxanne Weasley

As long as she could remember, Roxanne Weasley had had a bit of a sweet tooth. And not the kind like her father's where she really, really enjoyed her Grandmum Molly's world-renowned brownies or peach cobbler or something. The kind where the minute anything sweet was placed within ten miles of her, it was in her mouth faster than you could indignantly yell "That's mine!"

Her sweet tooth isn't, as she constantly reminds everybody, limited to just desserts. Any kind of candy or sugary food is always going to be unsafe around her, whether its cinnamon sticks or chocolate bars, fruit snacks or gummy bears, pumpkin pie or lemon bars.

Granddad Arthur had eventually gotten so fed up of her raiding their cabinets and drawers for non-existent sweets, he'd had a new cabinet built just for her in the kitchen of the Burrow to stack sweets in and everywhere else was off-limits for her to raid.

On her seventeenth birthday, though, Roxanne hatched a plan in the grand tradition of pranksters everywhere.

It's not at all hard to sneak away from the chaos of a Weasley family birthday party for a few moments, and Roxanne takes the opportunity when it comes and dashes into the kitchen to fling open her perpetually almost-empty sweets cabinet. With a delighted grin and a wave of her wand, sweets begin to pop into being everywhere inside the cabinet till it's almost overflows. After one more spell, it stops appearing, and she takes a chocolate bar to celebrate.

Almost immediately, another one appears in the place of her chocolate bar.

It's quite the legacy to leave behind, she thinks, beaming with pride and hoping she'll have fulfilled the dreams of quite a few future generations of Weasleys.

-:-

crystalline

Rose Weasley

Rose isn't – and never has been – quite the "female version of Fred" that her parents and aunts and uncles seem to think she is, but she is still a genius and she is rather good with making things – she just doesn't invent like Fred does, because that's his thing, and she's Rose, and she's all about individuality, so she's got her own thing.

As a little girl when she would Floo over to visit her grandparents with the rest of her family and play out in the garden of the Burrow with Hugo and Albus and Lily, she'd always thought something was missing Even though the flowers were still blooming, the trees were still standing tall and mighty, and the gnomes were still hop-hopping around and generally being pests, she remembers thinking that the garden needed something more, something bigger, something incredible.

And as she grows older, she comes to realize that there are certain advantages to being a magical glassblower. It's a profession that nurtures creativity in the oddest of ways (so, obviously, it's a perfect career choice for her).

For her grandparents' anniversary the year after she moves to Italy for her job, she decides she wants to make them something special, something magical, something they can keep and admire forever. And she quickly figures out just how to give them that.

It takes a lot of work and a lot of magic and a lot of "Yes, Al, I'm almost done" even when she's not even halfway there, but she manages it eventually because she's Rose and she's a Weasley and she's nothing if not determined.

And on her grandparents' anniversary, she leads them into the backyard so they can see the fruit of her labor – a lovingly designed and hand-crafted fountain made out of glass and stone with water gushing down in sheets of crystalline liquid, and the entire sight of the fountain backlit by sunshine and surrounded by the rest of the family.

To this day, her fountain stands proudly in the garden of the Burrow and her name is still etched into the stone, Rose Weasley, in curling script, for the whole world to admire.

-:-

the time-space continuum

Albus Potter

Growing up around the Burrow and constantly surrounded by a bubble of noise and laughter and love and chatter, Albus had still somehow always found time to contemplate the magical clock that hung in the kitchen of the Burrow, the one he occasionally caught his grandparents or his Uncle George or other relatives of the older generation taking long, sad looks at before hastily glancing away when they think nobody's looking.

Except he's Al, and he's as observant as Rose is stubborn, and he notices all the little things, like the way tears spring to Grandmum Molly's eyes when she looks at the hand labeled "George" and the way his father seems to constantly be "in mortal peril" (which might not actually be a glitch) and the way Granddad Arthur has hushed conversations with Grandmum Molly and his children sometimes about adding hands to the clock, but they never do get around to it.

And as he grows up, older and wiser and smarter, and he starts paying actual attention to Rose and Fred and all his cousins and their single-minded determination that stems from their love, he decides that he should do something special, too, like Fred and his snow globe or Rose and her fountain, something for his grandparents to remember him by when he's off visiting Rose in Italy or Molly in Greece or Louis in France or Scorpius in Germany.

(He's rarely in England these days, but all that does is give him more time and privacy to complete his own gift for his grandparents' anniversary; granted, it's a year after Rose presents them with her gleaming fountain, but it'll do. He's a Potter, and he'll make it work.)

That year, he returns from Italy with a happier heart and a brighter grin and he hugs his grandfather and kisses his grandmother and hands over a carefully-wrapped box containing six very special clocks and twenty-five hands between them.

Those six clocks – five for every branch of the family with grandchildren, and one for Charlie, Arthur, and Molly – join the first in the kitchen to make seven, and seven is supposed to be a magical number, after all, so it only makes sense that he smiles every time he looks at the clocks.

After all, the Burrow is a place for happiness, not grief, and Albus will be glad if his legacy is adding sunshine to brighten his ancestral home.

-:-

framing happiness

Hugo Weasley

From childhood to adulthood, Hugo has always been and will always be the photographer of the generation, the boy who goes around snapping photos despite his cousins' irritation, who can, with just a click of his camera, capture a memory and treasure it forever.

It's a handy ability, and Hugo rather thinks he has the best photo subjects in the world in his constantly-smiling, constantly-laughing, constantly-happy family with all its numerous members, most of whom are always delighted to pose for him. (Of course, there are still the odd few who hate being photographed, but he'll get through to them eventually.)

He loves photographing his cousins more than anything; loves how it's so easy to get a lovely photo of Victoire because she's breathtaking every time she smiles; how Dominique's pictures always turn out just a little shimmery as if she's embedded his photos with her starshine; how Louis never simply smiles and always has to do something wacky when he poses; how Molly's always got flowers somewhere; how you can always see Lucy's dreamy sparkle in her blue eyes.

He loves how Fred always has grease or clay or dust on him, but he's also always got his dimpled grin; loves how Roxanne forever has something sweet in sugary in her hands; how Rose always has time to indulge her baby brother with a photo; how Albus, who's as camera-shy as they come, always manages to find a grin for him; how James is almost more ridiculous than Louis in his photos; and how Lily seems to sparkle in front of a camera.

One day, after ages of trying, Hugo finally manages to gather everybody for a group picture. Smiles abound on everybody's faces, and with a little bit of magic, Hugo himself is standing next to Rose, beaming at his camera. Without hesitation, he hands over the photo once developed to his grandparents to hang in the Burrow.

It hangs in the living room for everyone to see, and it's got Hugo Weasley signed in one corner and bright, happy smiles on the faces of all the cousins and this, he thinks, is what he wants to leave behind.

-:-

rainbow petals

Molly Weasley

They all have these roles to fill, she thinks, and lucky for them, they get to choose who they want to be, like how Victoire is the writer and Dominique the stargazer and Fred the inventor and Hugo the photographer. They're simple hobbies, but they seem to embody them, who they are and what they love and where their dreams will take them.

And Molly, well, she's the flower girl, the gardener, and she doesn't think she'd ever want any other role to fill.

Because ever since she was little, she's always loved flowers, loved feeling silky-soft petals beneath her fingers and watching them grow for tiny buds to less-tiny blossoms to bright, colorful flowers in all the colors of the rainbow. And as soon as she was old enough, she'd begged her mother to let her plant her own seeds and grow a garden in their house.

Her garden grew and blossomed and bloomed into something wonderful, something full of color and light and magic, with rainbow petals and greengreen leaves and the scents of a thousand different flowers mingling with the fragrance of love and happiness in the air. It's her favorite place in the world, and the only place she really feels truly at home and happy in.

And she's no Fred or Rose or even Albus, with their ingenious ideas and creative minds and forging fingers, but she's Molly and she likes to think she can be sentimental even when she's got all her walls up, so when Albus confides in her his idea for their grandparents' anniversary that year, she decides to give them something special, something they can keep forever, too.

She grows them a little flower, helped along by magic and a couple of spells that might not have been entirely street-legal. It's a thornless rose with golden petals dyed blue in the very center, and they look like the night sky has been flipped upside down in the petals. She keeps it in a glass container alongside a single seed and presents it to them with a smile.

The rose is kept in the dining room; the seed is planted outside so it'll grow into a rosebush and future generations of Weasleys can pick blue-gold roses and keep them for themselves. Her grandmother cries and Arthur laughs, and they both hug her.

Molly knows that the rose will die eventually, but the rosebush will forever stand in the garden of the Burrow, and that's really all she wants to leave behind.

-:-

oceans in the sky

Lucy Weasley

If there's one thing everybody knows, it's that Lucy is not Molly; she's not a gardener and she can't grow beauty from soil, and one of the things she's always loved about visiting the Burrow is that she's not at all expected to be her straight-O sister. Under the Burrow's warm roof and surrounded by her Grandmum Molly's delicious cooking, she can just be Lucy, just dream.

She's a rather lot like Victoire, she thinks sometimes when she's reflecting on all her cousins and what makes them all unique. Victoire's a dreamer, too, though not to the degree Lucy is, where she can just sit on the roof and stare into the oceans of the sky for hours and dream, but she has her own little corner of the world under her chestnut tree, and Lucy's got the roof, and Victoire writes while Lucy paints and it all just works.

One day, while she's gazing at the clouds on top of the roof, Victoire clambers up there to talk to her, a fresh notebook in her hands (because she's probably used up her last one already). "Hey, Luce, I was thinking, for Grandmum Molly's birthday, why don't you paint the house?"

It's the most off-the-wall suggestion Lucy's ever gotten, so, naturally, she sits there and listens with wonder as Victoire details her plan, which is just as wacky as a Weasley birthday gift should be, and she immediately agrees to do it.

Painting a wall (as painting the house would just be silly, of course) takes a lot of time and effort and multiple privacy charms and sneaking around, but when she finally finishes it and unveils it for everybody to see, her grandmother cries and all the time and effort is worth it.

The mural shimmers on the wall, painting a thousand different pictures of starry skies and gleaming fireworks and rolling hills and cascading waterfalls, of nature at its prettiest and a house at its loveliest, of the Burrow standing with love and pride and of her sister's garden glowing with color and magic, of everything that makes them Weasleys and everything that she'd never want to leave.

Her painting sparkles with all her love, and when she signs her name with a shaky hand, the words Lucy Weasley glitter bright in the painting, and that is her legacy, in the end.

-:-

invitation to the stars

Dominique Weasley

Of all the places in the world, from England to France and beyond, Dominique's favorite place to stargaze is still and always will be the Burrow.

She loves how she doesn't even need her telescope to see beyond the pollution and the fog and the city lights; loves how the night sky is open and bright and inviting her to touch the stars; loves how she can just stretch out on the dewy-damp grass in the garden and watch the stars go floating by in bursts of shimmering lights and sparkling silver.

Sometimes, her grandfather will come out on a breezy night and sit with her and watch the stars, and they'll talk about everything and nothing, about what fuels their dreams and how to love absolutely, about the meaning of life and the rewards of happiness.

They're the best nights of her life, right there, watching stars in the company of her grandfather. And when he's about to turn sixty years old, she decides on a whim that she wants to do something special, something like Fred's snow globe or Rose's fountain, something just for him that he'll remember forever.

So she asks him what he wants, as she's not Victoire and she's never been one for massive plans that require charts and forethought and planning. Arthur smiles at her and says, "Something small would be nice, Nika. All of you kids are so sweet with your big projects, but something that I can keep on my bedside forever to remind me of you would be perfect."

Within a week, she's parked in Rose's apartment in Italy, wondering what on Earth she can get him that's small and special and he can keep forever. It's Rose, naturally, who comes up with the idea of something star-related, and it's Dominique who comes up with a candle, because she's Dominique and her mind is just that random.

With the help of Italy and its fresh air and artsy magical community, Dominique creates the perfect scented candle to give to her grandfather. Spelled to never die and never catch flame, it's a stick of golden wax with a perpetually-flickering blue-gold flame atop it, and it smells like starry nights and dewy grass and hours spent talking about the meaning of life.

It lights up the master bedroom, and every time she sees it and smells it, she finds the essence of love inside the candle, and she hopes other Weasleys will find it, too.

-:-

bubble bright

Lily Potter

By the Burrow, a river flows, crystal-clear water streaming down in waves of sunlit blue and moonlit white, fresh and fast and full of lilies. It's always been Lily's favorite place to play from the time she was a little girl till the day she graduated Hogwarts and beyond, and she loves sitting by the river with water catching on rocks and spraying her in the face, sunshine on her back and happiness swirling around her.

Sometimes she sees Louis walking by on the other side, always stopping to admire his permanent footstep, and she always goes to greet him, which is probably a mistake, because he's Louis and he's almost more chaotic than James sometimes.

The Bubble Incident, as it's referred to afterwards, happened one breezy summer evening when Louis was taking his usual walk around the river and Lily was just lying there, listening to the sound of water splashing and owls hooting and leaves rustling.

"Whatcha doing, Lily-flower?" Louis called across the river, standing in his footprint with his trademark mischievous grin on his face. "Aren't you bored, just sitting there with nothing to do?"

"Nope," Lily replied promptly, flashing him a smile which, in her opinion, is much more mischievous than his. "I was just watching the river. It's very interesting. You ought to try it sometime," she suggests cheerfully, dipping a hand into the refreshingly cool water and trailing it around the river.

Louis rolls his eyes, then peers more closely at the river. "You know," he says casually, "it could use some bubbles."

Lily's eyes light up.

Half an hour later, when Louis comes back around to where she's sitting, her little area of the river is bubbling with bright, soapy spheres that reflect the silvery light of the moon and the stars up above. Lily's still sitting there with a satisfied smile on her face and her wand tucked behind her ear.

"Do you like it?" she beams, gesturing to the bubbles. "I think it's permanent!" A bubble pops right as she says this, and a new one instantly appears. Louis laughs and continues on his way, wondering what their grandparents will have to say about their brand new bubbling river.

As it turns out, everyone is mostly just amazed and amused, because it's Lily and they're bubbles, and, well, it's so very Lily.

And the bubbles shimmer and shine in the light, and Lily likes to sit and watch them now, watch them sparkle, and maybe, in the end, she'll be remembered for lighting up someone else's life.

-:-

remember how i shine

the next generation

In the end, maybe it's not happily ever after like in fairytales and Disney movies that only some of them watched, but that doesn't mean it's not happy, and that doesn't mean it's not perfect for them, because all of them, they're Weasley kids, and they don't need conventionally perfect at all, do they?

Victoire becomes a famous writer after writing her Uncle Harry's first-ever authorized biography, marries Teddy Lupin, and has five children raised happily and relatively peacefully in a small wizarding English town. Her name still shines in that chestnut tree, and her children and their children and more wonder about her life and why she wrote it and what it means – victory.

Fred opens a store for his gadgets and is famed throughout the wizarding world for his invention of the magical airplane. He marries his girlfriend from school, Madeline Nott, after a few years break in their relationship but they decide not to have kids. His snow globe is still sitting in the Burrow's living room, and one day, a new Weasley child will see it and be inspired, he hopes.

James follows in Louis's father's footsteps and becomes a Curse-Breaker, which is perhaps the only profession where he can break something and be called a genius for doing so. He marries his best friend, Ellie Longbottom, and raises a loving, chaotic family with her. The chair leg remains broken, and his name remains etched in it, and all the people who sit in that chair know the story of how his magic exploded.

Louis follows in James's father's footsteps and becomes an Auror, training under his Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron and, when they retire, rises through the ranks and becomes captain of the Auror squads. Much to Lily's dismay, he marries her best friend, Claire Finnigan. His footprint is still stamped into the river bank, and many a Weasley child and grandchild has wandered past and stepped in it.

Roxanne answers her true calling and opens up a candy shop in Hogsmeade which sells sweets from all over the world, even a brand of sweets "from Mars", which are really prank candy. She marries Caleb Flume, son of the owner of Honeydukes', and her cabinet inside the Burrow is still filled up with sweets, and every single Weasley child knows just where to go when they're in need of something sugary.

Rose moves to Italy and takes up glassblowing, a profession she deemed suitably interesting and random enough to shake up all the skeptics who assured her that she would be heading into the Ministry. Lysander Scamander manages to charm her eventually, and they get married. Her fountain still glitters in the garden of the Burrow, and it becomes known as the perfect place to have fun for the Weasley kids.

Albus takes a job offer as the Defense professor, wanting to return to Hogwarts and live in comfortable quarters and educate students without being a bore, like many of his own professors, and he marries his long-time girlfriend. All the clocks he built still hang in the Burrow, tracking the family members, and he adds many more over the years as the family grows more and more, somehow never losing track.

Hugo, to nobody's surprise, takes up his camera as soon as he graduates and becomes a photographer, quickly making a name for himself in the photography industry after being hired for weddings, banquets, and balls alike. He meets and marries a muggle girl, and takes plenty more pictures, but his favorite is still the one of his cousins he took all those years ago to keep in the Burrow.

Molly doesn't go for anything flashy, and instead she opens up her own little and highly successful flowers and herbs shop in the garden of her house, where customers can walk amongst the flowers before choosing what to buy. She marries Lorcan Scamander and co-writes a book about flora and fauna with him, and there's a whole section dedicated to her blue-gold rose, still blooming in the Burrow.

Lucy chooses to become a touring art teacher after spending a few years with Rose in Italy and accepting a job with a traveling wizarding school. Her paintings are known around the world for the abstract, dreamy beauty and sell for quite a pretty penny. She never marries, but she lives a happy life, and her favorite painting will forever be the mural in the Burrow.

Dominique decides to join Lucy in the traveling wizarding school as an Astronomy teacher, carrying her love for stargazing with her around the world as she educates children on constellations and how stars are born and die. After dating for several years, she marries Scorpius Malfoy and returns home where she opens a candle shop in memory of that still-burning candle that stands in the Burrow.

Lily has always been destined to be in the spotlight, so it comes as no surprise when she goes to and graduates with honors from the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, earning a name for herself as a famous actress in both the wizard and muggle worlds. Even while she's performing on Broadway, though, her little section of the river by the Burrow is still bubbling happily away.

All the children can do anything they want, can be anyone they dream of, can travel the world and taste its luxuries before ever having to decide what they really love to do, but in the end, they all come back to one place. From Britain to Italy to Greece and beyond, they span the world and they leave their marks shining wherever they go, but there's still one place, only that one place that they can all call home.

It's the place where there will always be a cheerful smile and a helping hand, a loving hug and warm, fresh food, bright laughter and the fragrance of love. It's the place where their childhood memories and adulthood happiness overflow, spilling love and sunshine into every little nook and cranny, where everywhere they turn, they're surrounded by the kind of love that made them the people they are today.

Somehow, somewhere, at some point in their lives, they've all left their mark on it, and for the rest of their life, it'll be one of the most important places in their heart – it'll truly by their home sweet home.

Because they're Weasley kids, and no matter how much they sparkle and glitter and shine, the Burrow is their home.

Author's Notes: Wow, this is my 100th fic. I can hardly believe it, but there it is. Thank you so much to all my reviewers, my friends, and my NGF family for helping me get to this point :) I love you all, and I really do hope you enjoyed this! Please review to let me know what you thought! :)

Don't favorite without reviewing, please and thank you.