Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter, I am not J.K. Rowling, I'm not even English, I happen to be American.
A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. I've been thinking about this for a while now. To get it you have to ignore ignore the fact that Fred was killed in the seventh book and that Sirius supposedly had no relationships (romantic relationships anyway). Hope you like it.
Twenty-four-year-old Harry Potter stood outside thirteen Grimauld Place, staring apprehensively up at the gloomy building that had just materialized out of thin air. He was accompanied by his new wife, Ginny, a delicate-looking, red-haired woman who, for all that she had a slight build, had a strength about her. Standing next to the couple were their two friends, one of which was Ginny's older brother, Ronald Weasly. Just like his sister, he had the trademark Weasly red hair. He was a tall, lanky man with an almost permanent look of slight confusion. The woman beside him was his fiancée, Hermione Granger. She was a somewhat stocky woman with curly, dark brown hair that had managed to tame itself down in the last few years.
"Come on, Harry, you have to go back some time, and we're right here."Ginny murmured to her husband.
""Yeah, come on, mate! It's a little cold out here." Ron said sarcastically.
"All right, all right! Let's go," Harry replied. The four friends made their way up the front stairs and stepped through the cracked and aged door, each of them wearing a look of apprehension on their face.
"Harry and his companions tiptoed through the hideously dusty hallway to the kitchen where they were greeted by one of the most unexpected sights: there was a young woman sitting at the table amid a mountain of old, cracked parchments, yellowing newspapers, and black-and-white photographs.
"Who in bloody hell are you!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs as he and his friends all pulled out their wands.
"Oh… umm… sorry… am I intruding?"
A'N: What do you think? Please review!