The third half

Chapter two

Their only daughter has been missing for a little more than three years, when Molly and Arthur Weasley read the headlines one morning in early november: 'POTTERS KILLED BY YOU-KNOW-WHO, HARRY POTTER BOY WHO LIVED, DAUGHTER UNTRACABLE'

Soon after, a letter arrives, saying Dumbledore would bring them the Potter's little girl for safekeeping, full well knowing that no one actually knew where the toddler actually came form and even less knowledge on the fact if she had magic in her or not.

"Arthur, what do we do?" Molly asks, distraught, "We've already so many little ones, and with the baby-"

"We'll figure something out, alright, I'm not going to refuse an orphan, Molly."

"That's not what I was saying, Arthur! I am worrying about money and space for the little one!"

"I said we would figure something out, Mollywobbles." Arthur smiles at his wife, worry in his eyes. "She could sleep with Fred and George, I understand she's around their age." Molly nods.

"Yes, that's the best idea for now, we'll figure something out."

"That's what I've been telling you!" Arthur smiles, Molly smiles back.

"Do I smell something burning?" Their eldest son asks, walking into the kitchen in his pajamas.

"Oh no! I forgot I was cooking breakfast!" Molly jumps up, but after she hisses "Hide the newspaper!" at Arthur. She has been trying to keep the war as far away from her children as possible.

"Morning mum."

"Good morning Bill, did you sleep well? Yvonne from over the hill had a party yesterday and I couldn't sleep very well because of it, were you two boys alright?"

"I was, but Charlie kept tossing his sheets off his bed, so I woke up to him shivering so much the bunks shook, so I had to put back his linen."

"Thank you Bill, that's very nice of you." Molly sets a cup of steaming tea down on the table in front of her first child. "Here you go, darling."

"Thanks mum." Bill wraps his hands around the warm mug, blowing at the steam rising out of it.

Another pair of feet pads to the kitchen, and the only thing seen of the child is a lock of red hair stuck to eyelashes and two brown eyes. The rest of the small body is covered in a blanket that looks like it has seen better days. Arthur spots the blanket covered child first.

"Good morning Charlie, heard you were cold all night." Charlie grumbles and slumps down half on his dad, who pulls him onto his lap.

"I tried to help, but he kept kicking the covers off!" Bill protests.

"And that's very nice of you, Bill, do you want eggs or toast?"

"Eggs on toast?" The pile on Arthur's lap perks up and struggles down to the floor again, shrugging off the blanket on the way, and seating himself on a chair.

"Yes, yes, Charlie, eggs on toast for you." Arthur is still draping the forgotten blanket on the back of a chair when a third boy enters the kitchen, tight curls framing a pouting face.

"I lost my lucky socks, papa."

"Oh no, what should we do?" The child pouts more at his fathers reply.

"Summon them for me."

"Now what did we agree on about asking, Perseus?" Molly pipes in, juggling two pans and a teapot with her wand.

"Can you maybe summon my lucky socks for me, dad?"

"Of course little man. Let me search for my wand." Arthur makes a show of searching for his wand, making his children giggle.