Arthur Weasley stepped through the front door of the Burrow, the warm, familiar smell of dinner greeting him as he hung his coat by the door. The house was alive with the usual noise and chaos that came with having a rge family. From the kitchen, he could hear Molly calling for the children to help set the table, while the sound of running feet echoed down the stairs as the younger Weasleys rushed to greet their father.

  "Dad! Dad's home!" shouted Ginny, her red hair flying as she ran to him.

  Fred and George were close behind, though their enthusiasm quickly turned mischievous. "Did you bring us anything from work?" Fred asked, grinning.

  "Yeah, something Enchanted?" George added, already looking excited at the thought.

  Arthur smiled warmly at his children, ruffling Ginny’s hair and giving Fred and George a fond look. "Not today, I’m afraid," he said. "But I did see a very interesting device—it's called a 'microwave,' and it can heat food in just minutes! Isn't that fascinating?"

  The twins groaned in unison. "Not more Muggle stuff, Dad," George sighed, rolling his eyes.

  Fred chuckled. "You’ll put us to sleep before dinner’s even started."

  Arthur’s smile faded slightly, but he shook his head. "Well, it’s exciting to me, at least." He followed his children into the kitchen, where the rest of the Weasley brood was gathered.

  Molly was finishing up dinner, her wand moving gracefully as it set dishes onto the long table. The aroma of roast chicken and potatoes filled the air, and Arthur’s stomach growled in response, but his mind was elsewhere.

  "Good evening, Arthur," Molly greeted him with a warm kiss on the cheek, though her keen eyes quickly noticed the worry lines etched into his face. "Everything alright at work?"

  Arthur forced a smile and nodded. "Busy as ever. But nothing I can’t handle."

  The family gathered around the table, the usual chatter and ughter filling the room as they dug into their meal. The children spoke excitedly about their day, the twins swapping stories about their test pranks, while Ron compined about something Percy had done to annoy him. Arthur listened quietly, chiming in when necessary, but his heart wasn’t fully in it. His mind kept drifting back to the boy he’d heard about in the Ministry elevator—Harry Dursley.

  As the ptes emptied and the children began to clear the table, Molly’s gaze lingered on her husband. She could sense something was wrong—Arthur had been quieter than usual, and there was a heaviness about him that wasn’t typical.

  Once the dishes were put away and the children had gone upstairs for the night, Molly turned to him. "Arthur," she said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder, "what’s the matter? You’ve been distracted all evening."

  Arthur looked into his wife’s concerned eyes and sighed. He hadn’t intended to burden her with his worries, but he knew he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer.

  "It’s a boy," he began, his voice low. "A Muggle-born boy, found by a couple of Aurors earlier today. His name’s Harry Dursley, though from what they said, he’s hardly been treated like a member of the family."

  Molly frowned, concern filling her features. "What happened to him?"

  Arthur leaned back in his chair, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the wood grain of the table. "He was found in a cupboard under the stairs. His Muggle retives had left him there, forgotten, while they rushed off to the hospital for their own son. The boy, Harry, was nearly starved, barely conscious when they found him. And from what the Aurors said, it wasn’t the first time he’d been neglected."

  Molly gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. "That poor child..."

  Arthur nodded solemnly. "Gilbert and Oswald, the Aurors who found him, brought him to St. Mungo’s. But after that... there’s not much hope for him. He’ll likely end up in a Muggle orphanage once he’s discharged. The Ministry isn’t interested in helping him—they’re too busy with other things."

  Molly’s eyes softened with sympathy, but her voice was filled with the firmness of a mother’s heart. "That’s terrible. No child deserves to be treated like that, Arthur. Especially not one of our own."

  Arthur sighed again, his shoulders slumping. "It’s been on my mind ever since I heard about it. Gilbert even joked that the boy could’ve been one of ours—he’s got red hair and freckles, you know."

  Molly’s brows knit together in thought. "You know, Arthur, we may not have much, but we’ve always had room for one more. Maybe we could help him..."

  Arthur looked up, surprised. "You’d really consider it?"

  Molly gave him a small, determined smile. "Of course. You know I’ve always said, family isn’t just about blood. If that boy needs a home, then we should give him one."

  Arthur felt a swell of love and gratitude for his wife. "I don’t know if we could take him in officially—there are rules about that sort of thing—but maybe we could visit him at St. Mungo’s. See if there’s anything we can do to help."

  Molly nodded. "That’s a start. No child should feel unwanted, Arthur. And if we can give him some warmth, even if it’s just for a little while, then we should."

  Arthur smiled, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "You’re right. We’ll go tomorrow. Thank you, Molly."

  She squeezed his hand, her expression soft but resolute. "We do what’s right, Arthur. That’s what matters."

  With their decision made, the Weasleys prepared to take their first steps in offering Harry Dursley a glimmer of hope and warmth in a world that had shown him too little of either.

  The morning light streamed through the Burrow's windows as Arthur Weasley woke with a renewed sense of purpose. He stretched, feeling lighter than he had in days, and smiled to himself as he thought about the errand he and Molly would be running that day. The idea of helping Harry Dursley had lifted his spirits, and today they would begin.

  Downstairs, Molly was already busy in the kitchen, the sound of cttering pots and pans filling the air as she prepared breakfast for the family. The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs wafted through the house, drawing the attention of the Weasley children, who, one by one, appeared in the kitchen, eager for their meal.

  "Morning, Mum," Bill greeted her, his red hair tousled from sleep. He had just completed his second year at Hogwarts and was quickly growing into a responsible young man, something Molly was keen to encourage.

  "Good morning, Bill," Molly replied with a smile, handing him a pte of toast. "Your father and I have some errands to run today, so I need you to keep an eye on everyone while we’re gone."

  Bill nodded, taking his task seriously. "Of course, Mum. I’ll make sure everything’s fine."

  Molly turned to Charlie, who sat across the table, practically bouncing with excitement. At eleven years old, he was about to start his first year at Hogwarts, and it was all he could talk about. "Charlie, I’m counting on you to help Bill and keep Fred and George out of trouble, alright?" she said, her tone stern but loving.

  Charlie grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "No problem, Mum! I can handle them!"

  Fred and George, the most mischievous of the lot, giggled from their seats, clearly plotting some new prank. Molly shot them a look. "You two behave today, understand? I don’t want to hear about any explosions or disappearing socks while we’re gone."

  The twins shared a gnce, but reluctantly nodded, though the sparkle of mischief in their eyes didn’t entirely disappear.

  After breakfast, Arthur and Molly stood by the firepce, ready to use the Floo Network to travel to the Ministry of Magic. Arthur, still in high spirits, gave his children a wave. "We won’t be gone long. Bill, you know what to do. We trust you."

  "Got it, Dad," Bill replied, already stepping into his role as the responsible older sibling.

  As Molly gave each of her children a quick kiss goodbye, she whispered to Arthur, "Let’s hope the boys don’t give Bill too much trouble."

  Arthur chuckled, slipping his arm around his wife’s shoulders. "If anyone can handle them, it’s Bill. He’s a natural leader."

  With that, Arthur took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle and tossed it into the firepce, the fmes roaring to life with a brilliant green glow. He stepped in, calling out, "Ministry of Magic!" before vanishing in a swirl of emerald fmes. Molly followed quickly behind him, the familiar rush of traveling through the Floo Network making her feel slightly dizzy as the world spun past her.

  They emerged moments ter in the Ministry of Magic's Atrium, a vast and bustling space filled with wizards and witches going about their daily business. The giant golden fountain in the center sparkled in the light, its statues of magical creatures and wizards proudly standing tall.

  Arthur turned to Molly, smiling warmly. "Shall we go and visit Gilbert and Oswald first? I’d like to hear if there’s been any news about the boy."

  Molly nodded, though a touch of concern still lingered in her eyes. "Yes, I think that’s a good idea. And afterward, we can head to St. Mungo’s to see how Harry’s doing."

  Together, they made their way through the Ministry halls, Arthur greeting several colleagues with his usual cheerful demeanor as they passed by. But despite his friendly nature, there was a seriousness in his step that Molly hadn’t seen in a while. She knew this was important to him—helping this boy who had been abandoned and neglected, much like how Arthur felt about Muggle-borns and their pce in the magical world.

  As they neared the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Arthur spotted Gilbert Moore and Oswald Tadpol near the entrance, deep in conversation. He raised a hand in greeting. "Gilbert! Oswald! How are things?"

  The two Aurors turned, and their faces brightened when they saw Arthur and Molly approaching.

  "Arthur!" Gilbert said with a warm smile. "Good to see you. And Molly, too."

  Oswald nodded in agreement. "We were just discussing the case. There’s been no new developments yet, but we were pnning to visit St. Mungo’s ourselves ter today to check on the boy."

  Molly stepped forward, her motherly instincts clear in her expression. "We were hoping to do the same. It’s awful what happened to him... No child should be left alone like that."

  Gilbert’s smile faded slightly, and he exchanged a gnce with Oswald. "You’re right about that. The Ministry’s been too slow to react, and... well, it’s hard to get people to care about Muggle-born cases these days."

  Arthur’s face tightened. "That’s why we’re here. We want to help, however we can. Molly and I thought that, maybe, if there’s no pce for the boy to go after St. Mungo’s, we could offer him a home. At least temporarily."

  Gilbert and Oswald looked surprised but touched by the offer. "That’s a generous thing to do, Arthur," Gilbert said, "but you know how the Ministry is with red tape. It might be difficult to get approval."

  Arthur nodded. "I understand. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s make sure he’s cared for."

  With their pn set, Arthur, Molly, and the Aurors prepared to head to St. Mungo’s, determined to make a difference in Harry Dursley’s life. The Weasleys had always believed that family wasn’t just about blood—it was about love, kindness, and giving hope where it was most needed.