A warm, comforting scent of chamomile tea, freshly baked cookies, and molasses cakes filled the narrow but cozy dining room at The Burrow. Outside, the harsh winter had blanketed the countryside in white snow, but inside the house, the fire in the hearth kept the cold at bay.
Arthur and Molly Weasley were sitting at the worn wooden table, trying to enjoy a light snack alone before it all began.
That very morning, a silver Patronus in the shape of a phoenix had burst into their kitchen with a direct message from Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster had contacted them to warn them of an urgent meeting with all members of the Order of the Phoenix that very afternoon at The Burrow, stating that he had something of vital importance to tell them all.
Tension hung in the air, mixed with the feelings of a family that never gave up. Harry Potter had been spending a few days of the end-of-year holidays with them, enjoying the commotion and the warm, homely atmosphere of the Weasley family. However, the plan was that, as soon as that afternoon's meeting ended, the young Gryffindor would pack his things and leave to spend the rest of the holidays with his godfather, Sirius Black.
Arthur set his steaming teacup down on its saucer with a soft clink. He rose from his chair with a hint of weariness and walked slowly toward the kitchen window. With one hand, he wiped away some of the condensation fogging the glass and stood gazing out at the snow-covered garden.
Outside, flying several feet above the ground, the twins Fred and George were throwing enchanted snowballs at each other while little Ginny laughed heartily, chasing them on her own broomstick, her red hair blowing in the icy wind.
From the table, Molly stopped her knitting and watched him in silence. She knew every posture, every sigh, and every silence of her husband.
"What's wrong, Arthur?" Molly asked, her motherly voice tinged with genuine concern. "You've seemed very worried ever since Albus's message arrived."
Arthur stepped away from the window, turning toward her. Seeing the anguish in his wife's eyes, he slowly shook his head and forced a reassuring smile to soften the lines of worry on his face.
"It's nothing serious, Molly. I've just… I suppose I've been overthinking things lately," Arthur admitted, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. "I think about the children, how fast they're growing up. About the state of our world, about Grindelwald, about the Ministry… I think about what kind of future awaits our children when everything is so uncertain."
Molly set her knitting needles aside, stood up, and walked over to her husband. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.
"I understand completely, dear. It's any parent's natural fear," Molly whispered with a gentle smile, stroking his back. "These are dark times, and as you say, uncertain. But we have Albus with us. The Order is taking action, and our children are strong. I'm sure everything will be all right. You'll see."
Arthur nodded silently, wrapping his wife in a protective embrace, wishing with every fiber of his being that she was right. He hoped the future wasn't as bleak as his instincts warned him it would be.
To combat the anxiety of the impending meeting, Molly had done what she did best: cook as if she were feeding an army. Knowing that all the members of the Order were coming to their house on empty stomachs, she had spent the last few hours preparing a colossal, comforting meal. Dishes kept coming out of the oven, and the main table was so full it looked like it was about to burst.
Glancing at the wall clock, which indicated it was almost time, Molly stepped away from Arthur and opened the back door leading to the garden, letting in a gust of wind.
"Kids! Come down from up there and come inside!" Molly shouted at them, her powerful voice cutting through the howling wind.
Fred, George, and Ginny quickly landed, brushing the snow off their clothes and entering the kitchen with their noses and cheeks red from the cold.
"Take off your boots before you step on the carpet and go get ready," Molly ordered them, her tone returning to normal as she shooed them toward the stairs. "The Order members will be here any minute! And when they come up, tell Ron and Harry to come down for dinner right away. Dinner's almost ready, and I don't want to have to say it again."
"Yes, Mom!" the three of them replied in unison, climbing the wooden stairs that creaked with every step.
While Arthur went to set out more chairs around the magically extended table, Molly approached the stove to check on her latest stew. She smiled to herself, feeling the heat of the fire on her face. Surrounded by her family and with Dumbledore's protection guiding them, Molly was certain that tonight's gathering would go very well and that, at the end of the day, there would be absolutely nothing to worry about.
Little by little, the quiet dining room at The Burrow began to fill with life, murmurs, and the unmistakable roar and emerald fire of the Floo Network.
The members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived one after another, brushing the snow off their cloaks and greeting their hosts. As Molly welcomed Kingsley Shacklebolt and Elphias Doge with warm hugs, an old thought crossed her mind, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She still deeply resented the fact that the Longbottoms had not rejoined their ranks.
When Grindelwald's threat began to intensify and shadows once again loomed over Britain, Albus had called on them personally, hoping to count on two of his best Aurors. But Alice and Frank firmly rejected the offer. After spending more than a decade trapped in madness inside St. Mungo's, they had told Dumbledore they'd had more than enough of wars, blood, and sacrifice; now they just wanted peace and to be there to watch their son Neville grow up.
Molly, being the devoted mother she was above all else, could understand perfectly. She knew the Longbottoms had only managed to regain their sanity thanks to Aurelian Gaunt's miraculous intervention. But, though her maternal instinct understood their refusal, it didn't make it any less painful that they would no longer be joining them in this new struggle. She felt the old group was fracturing.
The last to join them was Albus Dumbledore, walking through the front door with a serene expression that contrasted with the urgency of his morning message.
Despite the underlying tension, dinner proceeded in a wonderfully peaceful atmosphere. Molly's huge stew did wonders for lifting everyone's spirits. At one end of the table, Nymphadora Tonks had Ginny in stitches by turning her nose into a duck's bill and then into a pig's snout. On the other side, Sirius Black, looking a little less drunk than usual, was sharing anecdotes from his golden years at Hogwarts with Remus Lupin, captivating Harry's attention and drawing a broad smile from him.
When they finally finished eating and the plates vanished with a wave of Molly's wand, the atmosphere shifted. Albus cleared his throat and, in a kind but firm tone, asked the children to retire to their rooms, explaining that they would surely be bored to death at this sort of adult gathering.
Ron, Harry, and Ginny, accustomed to being excluded from Order business, nodded without much protest and went upstairs.
Fred and George, however, didn't budge an inch from their chairs. They crossed their arms simultaneously, arguing in all seriousness that they were old enough, that they were of age, and that they had the right to stay.
Molly frowned, ready to intervene and send them to bed with a stern scolding, but a rough, raspy voice stopped her.
"Leave them be, Molly," growled Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody.
The old Auror hobbled over and leaned back in a chair. He gave a crooked, almost macabre smile and looked at the twins.
"Let them stay. I'm absolutely certain they're going to love hearing the main topic of this meeting."
Molly frowned even more, completely baffled by Alastor's unusual and cryptic remark, but she said nothing and took a seat next to Arthur.
The meeting began with some logistical pleasantries. They discussed the Aurors' guard rotations, the suspicious movements of certain employees at the Ministry, and the lack of leads on Grindelwald. Until, with a heavy sigh that seemed to suck the air out of the room, Albus Dumbledore dropped the bombshell without any warning.
"I have gathered you all here tonight because there is a vital truth you must know," announced the headmaster, his blue gaze sweeping across the faces of his allies. "Aurelian Gaunt… is Lord Voldemort's biological son."
A silence fell over The Burrow.
Molly felt her blood run cold. Instinctively, her heart pounding in her throat, she turned her head to see how her two sons were reacting. Fred and George were close friends with Aurelian; in fact, he even sponsored them. To Molly herself, young Gaunt had always seemed like a very kind, polite, respectful, and utterly sincere person during the few times they'd interacted. But with this new, monstrous, and dark revelation, the Weasley matriarch's mind reared up in shock. She didn't know how to view him now. Was it a deception? Was he a monster in sheep's clothing?
She expected to see the same horror, the same betrayal, and the same panic reflected on her twins' faces.
But Fred and George were simply leaning toward each other, whispering to one another.
"The Little Dark Lord? No, too long…" Fred whispered.
"The Heir of Terror? Too pretentious," George replied, grinning sidelong. "We've got to come up with some new nicknames for when we go back to school. This is pure gold."
Alastor Moody slammed his wooden wand against the floor with a crash that made several people jump. His magical eye fixed on the redheads with deep suspicion.
"May I ask why the hell you're so happy and relaxed about this, boys?" Alastor snapped at them, letting out a growl. "You've just found out that your friend and main benefactor is the offspring of the darkest wizard in the country."
The Weasley twins stopped whispering. They chuckled softly, and Fred shrugged before speaking up first, still smiling.
"We're happy because now we can tease him even more, and he won't be able to say a word. The jokes write themselves, Mad-Eye."
But suddenly, the twins' smiles faded, revealing a maturity and seriousness they rarely showed in front of adults.
"Listen to me carefully, Alastor," said George, his voice firm and without a hint of doubt. "We don't give a damn who his father is, or what dark lineage he comes from."
"Aurelian helped us when no one else believed in us. He taught us how to survive and supported us," Fred added, crossing his arms and looking the Order of the Phoenix straight in the eye. "We know exactly who he is. We know the kind of person our friend is. And no matter how cursed his father may be, it won't change what we believe about him."
Alastor Moody snorted loudly through his nose, shaking his head at what he considered naive and childish blindness.
Molly, for her part, stared at her sons with her mouth slightly agape, torn between the terror inspired by the name Voldemort and the immense pride she felt at seeing Fred and George's unwavering loyalty to their friend. The meeting had only just begun, and loyalties were already being put to the test.
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