"This way," shouted Miro Franca as he vaulted over a set of wooden barrels, which came up to just past his waist.

"Stay with him," barked a voice from behind him. "I'll cut him off."

Miro didn't reply, instead pushing forward in his pursuit. He quickly sidestepped an old witch who had been trying to make her way down the narrow street with her shopping.

"Watch out!" she scolded him, as she flattened herself against the wall, sending a few items falling out of her bag and scattering onto the ground.

"Sorry," shouted Miro over his shoulder, but the woman was too busy picking up her things to hear him.

The street turned to the right and Miro had to throw a hand out to prevent himself from smashing into a stone wall as he quickly made the turn. This section of the road was bigger but also more crowded, with a number of market stalls laid out selling various wares to interested and intrigued customers.

He had to hurry. This street would lead out into Diagon Alley, and if his prey made it that far then he knew he would never have a chance of catching it before it disappeared amongst the bustling crowds. Two weeks of hard work and careful tracking would be for nothing and, more importantly, there would be no payment.

"Out the way," he ordered, racing over the cobbled stones as fast as he dared on the uneven surface.

Most people looked up and moved to one side, while some of the market stall owners shouted at him for disrupting their business. Unfortunately, one wizard either did not hear him or, if he did, did not care and continued to examine whatever trinket had caught his eye. As Miro reached him, and aimed to go through the gap behind him, the man stood up and took a step backward. Miro managed to dodge to the right to avoid the man but this meant he was unable to avoid the pile of discarded rubbish from the various stalls. He attempted to hurdle the first pile but the tip of his back foot struck something which threw him off balance. He almost got his footing but by then he was already tripping over the second pile,which sent him sprawling into the third. He looked up from the ground and swore under his breath as he saw his target getting away.

Suddenly there was a red flash of magic and Mr Lexington, Miro's former Auror Instructor and current business partner, stepped out of a side street. He bent down to pick something up before turning to look at Miro.

"Got him," said Lexington, approaching as Miro managed to disentangle himself from the rubbish. In his arms the older man held a small furry creature, about the size of a cat, which had six legs, two curly tails, and a short squat monkey-like face. "Mrs Banjo will be pleased."

"You know," said Miro, dusting himself off as best as he could, "when I signed up for this I thought I'd be chasing things through back-alleys but I always thought they would be Dark Wizards and not..." he waved his hand at the creature.

"It's a Schniblean," said Lexington, holding up the creature so the younger wizard could get a better view. "I thought you said you took Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts?"

"I did," said Miro, trying to massage some life back into his right shoulder. "I didn't say I was any good at it."

"Anyway, early days Mr Franca, early days. Soon word will get out about our business and we'll be knee-deep in interesting cases. Until then, we need to keep the lights on, and that means taking cases like tracking down Mr Snuffles here," said Mr Lexington, waving the Schniblean in question.

"It's not dead, is it?" said Miro, looking at the animal with uncertainty.

"No, just unconscious," said Lexington. He nodded his head towards Diagon Alley and threw an arm over Miro's shoulder. "Come on, let's let Mrs Banjo know we found her pet and collect payment. I think today is going to be a good day."

This has got to be the dumbest thing anyone I know has done today thought Miro to himself.


"I don't think we should be doing this," said Ron. He was sat in the front seat of their family's blue Ford Anglia, while Fred and George were at the back of the vehicle pushing it along.

"Why not?" George asked, a little out of breath. "It was your idea."

"How was this my idea?" complained Ron, he turned around in the seat and stuck his head out of the open window to answer his brother.

"Remember? You were going on and on about how you had written all those letters to Harry inviting him to come and stay and you didn't even get one reply," said George. He turned around and put his back against the boot of the car to continue pushing.

"And then dad came home tonight and said Harry had got an official warning from the Ministry," added Fred, still pushing with his hands.

"And so you said 'we should do something'," George stopped and waved a hand at the car. "This is 'something'. And face the front will you? Last thing we need is you putting it in the ditch."

"I meant we should have asked mum, or dad, or I dunno... Uncle Enoch, to check in on Harry. Not steal..."

"Ah, ah, ah," said Fred, holding up a finger.

"Sorry... 'borrow'... the family car," said Ron, correcting himself. He used the rear-view mirror to look at his brothers. "And why aren't we driving this thing? You aren't planning on pushing it all the way to Surrey are you? That'll take forever."

"We're just pushing it down the drive so we don't wake anyone up when we start it. Thought that was obvious," explained Fred. He looked over his shoulder back at The Burrow to gauge the distance. "Actually, that's probably far enough."

"Do you even know how to drive?" said Ron, as he was shooed into the back by his brothers who climbed into the front seats.

"Of course," said Fred, adjusting the driver's seat to a more comfortable position. "More or less."

Fred turned the key and the engine eventually spluttered into life. He put it into first gear and after a few moments of uncertainty the car bunny-hopped forward before gradually finding a constant speed.

"See?" said Fred, looking smug. There was a sharp grinding sound as he tried to find second gear, failed spectacularly, and settled for third instead.

"Oh you're a natural," said George, rolling his eyes as the car stalled and the engine cut out.

"You think you can do better?"

"I think Ron can do better, I can do best... bestest... betterer. Whatever. I can do it."

"Fine."

There were a few grunts and complaints as the two boys switched places in the car, with one climbing over the other rather than just getting out and walking around the vehicle.

"Careful will you?" said Fred, as he finally settled into the front passenger seat. He looked over at his brother who was now studying the dashboard. "Anytime now."

"Shh, I'm trying to remember what dad showed me," said George, waving a hand at his brother. After a few moments of preparation he turned the key and the car lurched forward. As they trundled down the long driveway that would lead to the public road, George turned to his brother with a smirk on his face. "Ha! Told you. Bestester."

"Idiots," said Ron from the backseat. "Here's a thought..."

"Careful, you might want to hang onto that," said George, looking at his brother in the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, you never know when you'll get another. Probably best to save it for when you need it," added Fred.

"You mean… say… when we actually need to work out how we're getting to Little Whinging?" stated Ron.

"Er... by car," said George, waving his hand around to indicate the vehicle inside of which they were currently travelling.

"You really aren't the best in the middle of the night are you?" said Fred, shaking his head.

"To be fair he's not the best during the middle of the day," conceded George.

"Thanks George," muttered Ron.

"Or at the end of the day," added George. "And you're terrible in the mornings too."

"What I meant," said Ron, ignoring the urge to smack his brother on the back of the head, "how do we know we're going in the right direction?"

"Easy," said George, tapping one of the dials on the dashboard, "this is a compass; we need to head east...ish for a bit anyway."

"East... ish?" said Ron, shaking his head. He let out a long sigh. "Maybe I should have gone to Percy with this."

"Hey," said George, looking hurt. "Could Percy do this?"

George pushed a button down on the dashboard and pulled back slightly on the steering wheel. Ron grabbed hold of his seat as the car lifted from the ground and started flying.

"I knew this was a bad idea," said Ron, turning slightly pale. He reached over his shoulder for the seatbelt and made sure it was firmly secured in place.

"Relax," said George, leaning back in his seat. "Nothing for us to hit up here, well, maybe a few birds but they'll probably avoid us. Plus, cos we're flying we can go in a straight line. It'll save us loads of time."

"It won't if we don't actually know where we are going," said Ron.

"We're going..."

"Eastish, yes I know," mumbled Ron.

"We're going in the right direction," said Fred. He was looking out the window using a telescope. He folded it away and turned to look at his younger brother. "It has a Cat's-Eye Charm on it, so I can see perfectly in the dark. The sign there says we're heading towards Exeter. That's the right way."

"And after that?" asked Ron.

"Here, you check," said Fred, digging his hand into a large bag in the foot-well of the passenger seat and pulling out a large folded map. He handed it to his brother who unfolded it in the back of the car.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" complained Ron, scanning his eyes over the page. There were two large red circles drawn on the paper. Looking close at one he realised it was around the Ottery St Catchpole, so he presumed that the other would indicated where Harry lived.

"Just look at the names of the major towns on the way towards Harry, we'll keep low enough to read any signposts along the way," explained George. He jabbed a hand down onto one of the buttons. "That reminds me. Better put the Invisibility Booster on."

Although flying was much faster than if they had used the roads it still took them nearly two hours to reach Privet Drive. Fred and George had swapped places a number of times during the journey to give each other a rest, much to the annoyance of Ron, who panicked each time the steering wheel had been left unattended.

"Which one is it?" asked George, as they flew into the estate. "They all look the same."

"Number four," said Ron, looking out of the window to try and see the numbers on the houses. "We'll have to sneak in through the front door. His room is under the stairs."

"I think they might have moved him," said Fred, pointing towards the correct house. One of the windows on the first floor had iron bars attached to the outside. "You said Harry's uncle wasn't nice, so I'm guessing that'll be his room."

"Get closer," said Ron, winding down the window of the car and leaning out. He peered inside the house for a few moments. "Yeah, that's Harry all right." He rattled on the bars for a few seconds before his friend woke and looked outside.

"Ron!" said Harry, pushing the window up so they could talk through the bars. "Ron, how did you... what the...?"

"All right Harry," said George, grinning as Harry stared open mouthed at the flying car. He turned back to his twin. "Can you hold it steady? Last thing we need is to crash into the side of the house."

"I'm doing my best," complained Fred. He gestured towards the steering wheel in annoyance as Ron continued to chat away with his school friend.

"But you can't magic me out either..." Harry said to Ron.

"We don't need to," said Ron, indicating his brothers. "You forget who I've got with me."

"Tie that round the bars," said George, who had taken a large rope from the bag and thrown the end to Harry.

"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," said Harry, as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.

"Don't worry, stand back," said Fred.

Fred revved the car louder and louder until suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up. Ron quickly pulled the bars up by the rope into the car, before Fred moved the car back into position.

"Get in," Ron said.

"But all my Hogwarts stuff... my wand... my broomstick..."

"Where is it?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room..."

"No problem," said George. "Out of the way Harry."

Fred pulled up the handbrake to keep the car steady and the pair climbed out of the car and through the window into Harry's room. George took out a hairpin from his pocket and set to work picking the lock.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of muggle trick," said Fred, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow."

There was a small click and the doors swung open.

"So, we'll get your trunk, and you grab anything you need from your room and hand it to Ron," whispered George.

"Watch out for the bottom stair, it creaks," Harry whispered from behind them as the twins made their way out of the room.

"Should be easy enough," said George, keeping his voice low as the twins made their way down the stairs, making sure to avoid the last step. Fred took his turn picking the lock on the door under the stairs. It opened with a faint 'snick' and they carefully took out Harry's possessions trying their best to remain as quiet as possible.

"They made him sleep in here?" muttered Fred, looking around the small space that would have barely been able to fit anyone comfortably. "I wouldn't even do that to Percy."

"Really?" said George, as he opened the trunk and placed Harry's wand inside next to his previous year's school books. He tucked Harry's broom under his arm.

"Well maybe only if he was being a completely insufferable git," conceded Fred as the pair hoisted the trunk and made their way back up the stairs. Harry had come out of his room the help them and the three boys carried the heavy luggage to the window. Fred climbed back into the car to help Ron pull the trunk inside while George and Harry pushed it from the bedroom side. Eventually it slid into place.

"Okay, let's go," said George, handing Ron the broom, and climbing out the window into the car. Just as Harry was about to traverse the gap there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, immediately followed by a thunderous voice.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig," exclaimed Harry. He rushed back into the room and grabbed the birdcage while Fred and George quickly clambered into the front. Harry passed Hedwig to Ron and began to climb through the window.

There was a loud crash as a rotund, red-faced man, who Fred and George assumed was Harry's uncle, barrelled into the room. The man paused for a second as he took in the whole scene before lunging towards the window and grabbing at Harry's ankle.

Ron, Fred and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could. They gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of his uncle's grasp.

"Put your foot down, Fred!" yelled Ron. His brother complied with the order and the car shot forward and upward.

"See you next summer," Harry yelled from the back seat as the Weasleys began to laugh.

The foursome continued on their journey whilst Hedwig flew beside the car. Harry brought the other three up to speed on what had happened to him over the summer. The reason he hadn't replied to any of Ron's letters was that a House-Elf named Dobby had been intercepting them in an attempt to discourage Harry from returning to Hogwarts for his second year. The House-Elf actions had also been responsible for the warning from the Ministry.

The group talked about a bunch of different subjects whilst journeying back to the Burrow and by the time the house came into view the sun was already starting to peak over the horizon.

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to the tumbledown garage in the yard. He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Harry looking at their house.

"It's not much," said Ron softly.

"It's brilliant," exclaimed Harry, causing Ron to grin.

They got out of the car and gathered around the driver's side to discuss their next move.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car."

"Right," said Ron. "Come on Harry, I sleep at the..."

Ron had gone a nasty greenish colour, his eyes fixed on the house. The other three wheeled around.

Mrs Weasley was marching across the yard with a furious look on her face, scattering chickens in her wake.

"Ah," said Fred.

"Oh dear," said George.

What happened next was an intense wall of shouting, finger pointing, and general admonishing. Fred and George kept their heads down, looking at their shoes while they waited for their mum to finish. Eventually, just as she managed to shout herself hoarse, Mrs Weasley turned to the only non-family member in the group.

"I've very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said sweetly as though the previous few seconds hadn't happened at all. "Come in and have some breakfast."

The four boys followed Mrs Weasley inside where she began cooking breakfast, all the while throwing her sons dirty looks and muttering under her breath.

"I don't blame you, dear," said Mrs Weasley to Harry as she piled food onto his plate.

Fred and George held out their plates, whereas Harry received about nine sausages and three fried eggs, they only got one of each item. Neither of them thought it would have been wise to point this out.

"...flying an illegal car halfway across the country... anyone could have seen you..." said Mrs Weasley who had continued her complaining without pause.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred. He knew his father hadn't told her about the Invisibility Booster that had been place in the car and he wasn't going to be the one to tell her.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs Weasley snapped, pointing a spatula towards him.

"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" barked Mrs Weasley.

Aside from a slight interruption from the youngest member of the Weasley family, and the only sister, Ginny arriving then quickly running away at the sight of Harry, the boys ate in silence until they were finished. Despite them being exhausted Mrs Weasley refused to let the boys head upstairs for a nap and instead ushered them outside to de-gnome the garden. Although told he didn't have to Harry willingly volunteered to help them. Ron explained to Harry just what was needed when de-gnoming a garden, spinning one around by its ankles until he launched it over a nearby hedge. Soon all the boys were at it, seeing who could get the creatures to fly the furthest until there were no longer any gnomes left in the garden.

It wasn't long before Mr Weasley arrived home from work after a long night in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, which of course meant it was now his turn to reprimand the boys for their actions.

"That was very wrong boys, very wrong indeed..." Mr Weasley pushed himself up out of his chair and headed towards the door. "Come with me."

"How did Ron get out of this?" complained Fred quietly. His younger brother had sneaked away to show Harry the rest of the house.

"I know, it was practically his whole idea," added George as the boys followed their father outside and over to where the car was parked. Mrs Weasley watched them through the window over the kitchen sink.

"Now boys," said Mr Weasley, waving his arms around in an exaggerated manner. "How did she fly? Was it smooth?"

"What?" asked Fred, frowning a little before grinning.

"No! Don't smile," said Mr Weasley quickly. He wagged his finger, before throwing his arms up in the air. "Look sad, like I'm shouting at you."

"But you're not," said George.

"I know I'm not, you know I'm not, but your mum thinks I am. So play along," ordered Mr Weasley, he added a shaking fist at the end for good measure.

"Oh, I get it," said George. He nodded his head sheepishly before elbowing brother to do the same.

"Oh right," said Fred, putting a solemn expression on his face and looking at the floor.

"Good," said Mr Weasley, jabbing a finger towards the boys several times before stamping his foot. "Now how was the landing? I always find it a little bumpy."


"Mum?" said Ginny, peering around the corner of the stairs.

"Yes, dear?" said Mrs Weasley, still watching her husband through the window.

"You could have told me Harry Potter was coming over," she said, quickly descending the stairs. "How do I look? I got changed."

"You look just lovely, dear," said Mrs Weasley, giving her daughter a cursory look before returning her gaze to the yard.

"What's dad doing?" said Ginny, looking out the window to where she could see her father practically jumping up and down whilst waving his arms. Then she noticed that Fred and George were both outside as well so she assumed he was shouting at them for one of many possible reasons. "Wow, he's really angry."

"No, he isn't," sighed Mrs Weasley, with a slight smile on her face.

"Are you sure about that?" said Ginny, pointing out of the window. "Because he looks like he's angry."

"Remember Great Aunt Magella?"

"Yeah, you used to visit her all the time before she died," said Ginny, nodding her head. "She always spoke like she was whispering. I could never hear what she was saying."

"Exactly," nodded Mrs Weasley. "Over the years, she got quieter and quieter, so very gradually after a while I learnt how to read lips. So I know exactly what your father is saying."

"Straight off to bed," ordered Mr Weasley as Fred and George trundled through the kitchen with their shoulders slumped and their heads bowed low. He turned to look at his wife and rubbed his hands together at a job well done. "Don't worry, dear. I was very tough on them. Very tough indeed."

"Here, Ginny," said Mrs Weasley, handing her daughter a plate of food. "Why don't you go and eat this in the sitting room? I just need to have a word with your father."