A/N: So here it is! The squeal to 'Belladonna and Bluebells'. Please R&R. I have chosen to omit the whole Dementors/trial business, it serves no purpose for my story. Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter canon. Blessed Be J.K!

Privet Drive

August

Three Weeks

Until return to Hogwarts.

Harry Potter woke with a start, had it all been a dream? He lay topless in his bed, in Dudley's second bedroom. It had been one of the hottest recorded summers in years and Harry's skin was slick with sweat. He peeled the single apricot sheet off his chest and looked down at his flat stomach. He gave a huge sigh of relief when he saw the familiar ragged scar, which stretched from hip to hip. It was his trophy, from the premature birth of his son; James Sirius Potter in April. The Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years, first potions lesson of the year, had ended abruptly when Neville Longbottom accidently added the wrong ingredient to his cauldron. The unfortunate combination caused some of the Gryffindor students and Professor Snape to become spontaneously pregnant. Harry flopped back down on his slightly wet pillow and tried to remember his sons face. It had been five weeks since Harry had seen his son. Once he thought he could remember him, he tried to recall the face of his small daughter, Eileen Grace Snape. The potion's Professor had conceived and delivered Harry's daughter in May. Lastly Harry turned his thoughts to his second son, Fabian Arthur Weasley. His best friend Ron Weasley had given birth to a son by caesarean in the same month as Harry's daughter.

Harry had told the Dursleys nothing about his eventful fourth year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and frankly they hadn't asked. His decision to send his children to stay with the Weasley's, rather than bringing them with him to the Dursleys, had been a hard choice. But considering how his Aunt and Uncle had treated him as a baby, he refused to subject his own babies to that. Harry realised what had woken him. He could hear his Aunt Petunia, vacuuming the living areas. There was no going back to sleep, so Harry flung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He found a baggy t-shirt and jeans and some ugly old socks in the bottom of his trunk. While he was fishing around in it, he dislodged a small blue knit bootie. He felt a rush of sadness as he pick it up. It was one of a pair of James' tiny booties, which Mrs. Weasley had knit for his premature son. His feet had been the length from the first knuckle of his thumb to the tip, when he had been born at thirty two weeks gestation.

Harry made his way down the stairs as quietly as he could and out the front door, while his Aunt as busy. He knew that if he lingered in the house Petunia would put him to work, cleaning something or rather. Harry had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets around Little Whinging, scavenging newspapers from bins along the way, because his Aunt and Uncle couldn't understand why a teenage boy would be interested in the news, his Uncle Vernon thought he was up to something hinky. He checked every day for some news, that Voldemort had made a move, but still nothing. The pavement was hot under the sole of his worn sneakers. Harry looked at his wrist watch, it was extremely warm, even by ten-thirty in the morning. He wiped the sweat building on his brow, he knew he would have to find something to drink and eat soon. He headed towards the little corner shop about five minutes' walk from number four. He used the last of the muggle money he had transfer from his wizarding money, to buy a meat pie, bag of crisps and a bottle of lemonade.

He ate as he walked the streets, hardly aware of the route he was taking, for he had pounded these streets so often lately that his feet carried him to his favourite haunts automatically. He crossed Magnolia Crescent, turned into Magnolia Road and headed toward the darkening play park. Harry vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank onto the only one that Dudley and his friends had not yet managed to break, coiled one arm around the chain and stared moodily at the ground. Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting there, but when the sun reached its highest point, he felt the skin on the back of his neck begin to sting. He stood up and stretched and slowly returned to Privet Drive. When he arrived he was a little surprised to find the Dursley's car wasn't in the driveway. He went around the back of the house, found the spare key and let himself in. He marched up the stairs, flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes.

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again, darkness sat snug all around him like a blanket. Only the street lights outside illuminated; the still empty driveway of number four. The house creaked around him. The pipes gurgled. Harry lay there in a kind of stupor, thinking of nothing, suspended in misery. He was beyond ready to leave this place. And then, quite distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below. He sat bolt upright, listening intently. He heard voices downstairs. His heart pumping, he jumped up, grabbed his wand and dashed to the top of the stairs, his wand help out. He was ready.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out" said a low, growling voice. Harry's heart was thumping uncontrollably. He knew that voice, but he did not lower his wand. Five or six shadowy figures stood at the bottom of the stairs.

"Lumos" said one of the figures and the group were thrown into shape relief. "It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away." Harry's heart leapt. He knew that voice too, though he hadn't heard it for more than a year.

"P-Professor Lupin?" he said disbelievingly and took a few steps towards the group. The real Mad-eye Moody, was heading the group, standing behind him, was the mousy looking man Harry had known during his third year at Hogwarts. Next to him was and entirely unfamiliar women. He eyed her warily.

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would" said the witch. She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. "Wotcher, Harry!" she said loudly.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus" said a bald black wizard standing farthest back; he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes" said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard behind him. "Lily's eyes." Harry was so surprised by this scrutiny that he stammered, trying to speak. He was feeling kind of proud to be, being compared to his parents, but he was still completely dumbfounded to see so many wizards in the Dursleys family home.

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Not the Burrow, no" said Lupin, motioning Harry toward the kitchen; the little knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously. Once the group had moved into the kitchen Harry flicked on the lights. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust it was far brighter than the light from a single wand. Harry was introduced to everyone, then he was allowed to pack his things. He returned to his guests with his trunk and Hedwig tucked away in her cage. She hooted softly when he put her on the floor next to his stuff and turned to Remus.

"How're we getting — wherever we're going?" Harry asked.

"Brooms" said Lupin sealing a letter addressed to the Dursleys. He placed it on the table and the group made their way outside to where their booms were waiting, lined up in a perfect row along the flat concrete path, making it look like a ladder laying on the ground. They mounted their booms and soon they were soaring though the night's air. He was free of the Dursleys and he would see his babies very soon. He had never been so excited.

A/N: Please remember to review!