The Weasley family's Burrow stood in Ottery St Catchpole, a crooked five-story house built with magic.
The Burrow looked decidedly odd. It had clearly been expanded from an original two-story house, with extra floors slapped on through magic by someone who knew nothing about architecture.
Arthur Weasley had a large family, with seven children.
Never mind the bustle of a family Christmas gathering-this household was lively almost every day.
Small as the Burrow was, it was very cozy.
George and Fred were outside with Ginny, blowing up ugly, palm-sized gnomes.
These gnomes were so stupid that they showed no fear even when their companions were tormented or killed. Instead, they watched from the sidelines with wide, curious eyes, sometimes even returning to their holes to call their friends out to enjoy the spectacle, never considering that they might be the next ones blown up.
Bang! Bang!
The Twins had swiped plenty of "new" inventions from an older Ravenclaw girl, including Chinese firecrackers. They blasted the gnomes into the air one after another, sending snow showering down all over the three siblings.
After a while, all three grew bored.
The Twins then came up with another trick. After gesturing at a dim-witted gnome for ages, they persuaded it to take a string of firecrackers with a very long fuse back into its hole.
The foolish gnome actually did so, delighted as though it had acquired some spoils of war. Under its companions' envious gazes, it hoisted the firecrackers and dragged them toward its hole.
The three siblings watched the string of firecrackers disappear into the hole, waiting eagerly.
Just then.
Mrs. Weasley's formidable bellow rang out from inside the house.
"George, Fred! Stop playing and bring your sister in for dinner!"
George, who was lying beside the hole with his mouth