It was nearing the end of the summer, and Harry Potter was gathering his things together in preparation for his stay at his friend Ron Weasley's house. Harry Potter, as is stated at the beginning of everything of this sort, was no ordinary boy. He was a wizard, who was attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his sixth year in September. Already in the summer, Albus Dumbledore had whisked Harry away to help convince Horace Slughorn to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts.
"Horace, you must return to your old post as Hogwarts Potions Master," Dumbledore had said.
"He's right, professor," Harry agreed. "If you come back, Professor Snape might get sacked."
"No one's getting sacked, Harry," Dumbledore chided.
"Do whatever you like," Harry said, disgruntled, and began to amuse himself with the bric-a-brac on Slughorn's mantle.
"No, sir," Slughorn argued. "I'm not going. This armchair's got a perfect ass print in the seat. I'd never be comfortable again if I went back to that school."
"You can take the ass print chair with you," Dumbledore pleaded. "Whatever you like, just come back to Hogwarts!"
"I can bring me ass print?" Slughorn asked. "Well, alright then. I'll do it."
So now here Harry was, packing his things, as Dumbledore had informed him and the Dursleys that Harry would be spending the rest of the summer at the Burrow. Harry absent-mindedly tossed things into his trunk; his wand, his robes, textbooks, what little pornography he'd been able to print off of his cousin Dudley's computer while the rest of the family was gone, etc. Finally, the moment had arrived for him to leave. He headed downstairs where Dumbledore waited for him by the fireplace.
"Well, Harry," Dumbledore said, "is there anything you'd like to say to your family before you leave?"
Harry thought for a moment before finally saying, "Peace, bitches." He then took a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the fire, stepped inside and said, "The Burrow!" A roar of green flames later, and Harry was gone.
Upon arriving at the Burrow, Harry was greeted by Ron and Hermione. Ron, of course, was Harry's loyal, red-headed best friend who would stick by him through thick and thin, despite being doomed to forever be cast in Harry's shadow. Hermione, as Harry had often said before, was like his sister (his smokin'-hot sister who you want to shag in the worst way but you can't because she's your best mate's sister), who was the real brains of the outfit.
"Harry, you've finally arrived!" Hermione squealed. "We've missed you so much!"
"Yeah, it's good to see you again, mate," Ron said. "We thought you'd never get here."
"I've missed you guys, too," Harry said. It was really good to see them all again. "So what's going on, eh?"
"Nothing, really," said Hermione. "We were thinking of going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Fred and George opened a shop there."
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Ron announced, moving his hand through the air like a marquis. "They've got loads of great stuff. They've been sending me free samples in the mail."
"Sounds great," Harry said. "Let me just go and set my stuff down." Just then Ginny entered the room.
"Harry!" she squealed, since that's what girls do when they're excited, apparently.
"Ginny!" Harry man-squealed back. "Look at you! Come, let us shag!"
"Harry," Ginny chided. "You're being ridiculous. I know that's what everyone besides the HarryXHermione and HarryXLuna folks wants, but we haven't even had our first kiss yet. That isn't supposed to happen until the school year is almost over. Besides, I'm not sure if I'm really attracted to you like that yet."
"Wait…what?" Harry stuttered bemusedly.
"Nothing," she said quickly. "I'm just going to, um…go…place." She then hurried back up the stairs out of sight.
"Well, that was weird," Harry and Ron said together. Hermione just shook her head.
"Hey, why don't we go play some Quidditch?" Ron suggested. "We don't actually have a pitch, or proper balls, but I used to play with Fred and George and we'd throw apples at each other and catch them."
"Yeah," Harry said. "That's sounds like fun. What about you, Hermione?"
"Of course," she agreed. "Even though I hate flying, I'm morally obligated to join the two of you in whatever you do, as most things you do involve having to use brainpower to escape from a precarious situation, and we all know that you two are sufficiently lacking in that."
"Yes we are," Harry and Ron said through goofy grins as they head-butted each other like mountain rams.
"Oy vey," Hermione sighed and she took the two dazed boys by the elbows and led them out to the yard. "This will be another long school year."