Characters: Fabs, Molls, and anyone at the Weasley residence
Miraculously, I managed to apparate to the kitchen of the Burrow without even leaving an eyebrow behind. It was dark and I didn't relish waking up my sister, still tired from birthing my nephew. In fact, I wouldn't allow myself to deprive her or anyone else of sleep, so I plopped myself into a kitchen chair and would wait till everyone woke up on their own accord, or Ron woke them up with his newborn cries. I surveyed myself. I was covered in blood, but it was dried. My jumper was in shreds, and my shoes were scorched. I couldn't move my arm, and everything hurt. The gashes on my chest were burning and they appeared red and inflamed. I snuck a glance at my arm, and it was hanging at an odd angle. It made me sick to my stomach. Damn you, Malfoy!