Edit: Thank you Sylkie!

…………………………………

There was a warm blanket around him, and a cool breeze blowing across his exposed face. He turned his head slightly, and a wet cloth slipped down his forehead to rest at his nose. Did he make it? He realized that the only way to find out would to be to open his eyes, but they felt really good closed.

"Are you… awake?" Someone said quietly, as to not disturb him if he wasn't. He smiled slightly. Where did he know that voice?

"Yeah." There was a small gasp from the person in the room. Harry suspected it was a girl, and a young one too by the sound of it.

"O… Ok, I'll get Mum." Harry's eyes flashed open, and he sat up quickly to see a small red haired girl looking him over nervously. It was Ginny Weasley. She jumped back; surprised at the sudden movement while Harry grasped his stomach and began to wish he hadn't done it.

"Wait." He plead. She did, standing there and staring at him, her brown eyes young and bright. He decided to play dumb. "Where am I?" She bit her lip cutely, trying to answer his question correctly, he supposed.

"Well you're at my house, which is called the Burrow, but I don't know how you got here because you just appeared out of nowhere all bloody and dead looking and stuff." She blushed slightly at her impromptu explanation, waiting for him to say something.

"Oh." He said, completely at a loss for words while he stared back at the girl he sorta kinda liked. Ok, really liked. All right, he was totally and completely in love with the girl. So he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Your pretty." She blushed bright red and murmured thanks while looking at her feet, obviously having no idea how to respond. But it was true; Harry could see the beautiful woman this young girl would become. He smiled slightly at her beet red face, liking the way she reacted.

"And you're cute when you blush." She turned a brighter red, but smiled slightly at him.

"What's your name?" She asked shyly, and Harry cringed. They hadn't noticed his scar yet? He was going to have to fake himself out of this future chaos. He reached out a hand.

"My names- ouch!" he yanked his arm back a second after she had touched him, and grabbed his side. Ginny's eyes widened, as she frantically apologized.

"I'm so sorry, are you ok? Did I hurt you? Here, I'll get Mum; she'll know what to do! I'm sorry, really!" She dashed from the room, and Harry heard her running down the stairs. He felt a bit guilty for tricking her, but smiled all the same.

No less than 15 seconds later, quite a few footsteps were making there way up the stairs, and Harry hurried to make himself look like he was in pain, which was easier than he liked. Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, a look of worry on her face.

"Are you alright, dear? Where does it hurt?" Harry gave a small groan, fighting the ecstatic feeling of seeing his surrogate mother once again, before the loss of her children and their miscellaneous body parts had stained her usually happy and loving face.

"My stomach, Miss." He glanced over at the door, and saw seven red heads peeking in and starring at him curiously. Ginny seemed the most worried and he gave her a small smile, which she returned.

Mrs. Weasley tugged his shirt up, exposing many purpling bruises, and a chorus of 8 gasps echoed around him. Harry merely stared at his stomach curiously then lightly poked one of the bruises, wincing slightly.

"What," Mrs. Weasley started tremulously as her eyes filled with tears. "What happened to you?" Harry turned is head away from them, feeling embarrassed.

"I… fell?" He tried to lie, knowing how stupid he sounded. A tear landed on his stomach, and Harry sighed in dejection. Mrs. Weasley was crying because of him; because he was too weak to stand up to a stupid muggle. He looked back up at her, smiling sadly.

"Please don't cry, Miss. I'm not worth it." Mrs. Weasleys tears began to fall heavier, and Harry cursed himself. He wasn't good with criers, and Mrs. Weasley was defiantly a crier. He looked back over at the door, and saw a tear run down Ginny's face. Ginny wasn't a crier. Maybe he just had some special power to make people miserable.

"Really, I've had worse." Oops, that wasn't smart. Mrs. Weasley put her face in her hands, and another tear made its way down Ginny's face. All the Weasley boys were looking quite subdued, staring sadly at Harry's stomach. He tugged his shirt back down, ignoring the stabbing pain in his arm.

"Was it your family?" Ginny asked quietly. She was just smart like that, always knowing things and stuff. She was the smarted, prettiest, most wonderful person in the world. But he hated her for asking that. Because he knew his face would give him away. He knew that they would know how weak he was, how stupid.

Mrs. Weasley looked up, wiping her face. She stared at him. Ginny stared at him. Charlie, Ron, Percy, Fred, and George stared at him. And they knew. They knew his family had abused him and that he was too weak… too pitifully weak to stop it.

"We need to get you to Saint Mungo's…" Mrs. Weasley murmured sadly, staring at his stomach. Then Harry remembered he wasn't supposed to know about magic.

"What is Saint Mungo's, Miss?" Mrs. Weasley looked up sharply, her eyes worried.

"You don't know?" Harry shook his head. Mrs. Weasley stared at him, most likely trying to figure out what to do with a muggle child. "What's your name Dear?" She asked him tersely and he bit his lip. He really didn't want to be treated like a celebrity, especially by the Weasleys.

"Harry…" Harry held his breath, hoping she wouldn't ask for-

"Surname?" She asked him, one eyebrow raised. He sighed in annoyance.

"…Potter." There was another series of gasps. At least they wouldn't think of him as some undefeated hero or something, when he lay here bruised and beaten by his muggle uncle. He'd just be a tragic hero. Phooey.

"Harry…" He looked up at Mrs. Weasley, who spoke carefully. She seemed unsure of herself, as if she thought it wasn't her place to say. "Do you… believe in magic?" He hesitated, before shrugging. Mrs. Weasley struggled for words.

"I don't believe I should be the one telling you this… but you're going to find out in a couple months anyways. I suppose…" Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"…Miss?" Mrs. Weasley sighed, rubbing her temples. She looked up at him, her face very serious.

"You're a wizard, Harry." Harry stared at her, and then surprised everyone with his reaction.

"Oh, that's good." Ginny giggled slightly over by the door, and Mrs. Weasley furrowed her eyebrows.

"Aren't you surprised at all?" Harry smiled at her, wanting very much to laugh at her expression.

"Yes, very. But if I am correct in assuming that Saint Mungo's is a hospital of some kind, I just want you to know that there is no need for me to go there. I really am ok, just some bruises." Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips.

"I think I'll be the judge of that." She said looking him up and down, and he blushed. "Shirt off please." He immediately began taking off his shirt, and Ginny looked torn between staying to see if he was ok, and giving him some privacy. Mrs. Weasley ended her internal argument by shooing them all away.

She began by pressing down on the spots Harry knew must be his ribs, though they weren't so hard to find on his frail body. None were especially painful, which surprised Harry since he was positive at least 2 had cracked.

"Arms out." Harry put his arms out like a plane, and he felt his muscles cramp painfully, but worked to keep his face blank. Mrs. Weasley slowly pushed his arms up until they were raised above his head, then went back down to his sides slowly.

"Turn you head to the left." He did. "Now the right." He turned it again, and wasn't able to hold back a wince. Mrs. Weasley slid her hands behind his head, feeling for any bumps or bruises. Finally she pushed on the spot Harry's head had hit the side table, and he gasped quietly.

"Owwie…" He said, a slight grin on his face, but Mrs. Weasley looked completely serious.

"Turn, please." She said brusquely. He did so carefully, trying not to twist his midsection too much. She looked through his mass of hair, and tisked at the messiness of it. "Lumos." He heard from behind him, and a bit of light made it past his head and glowed on the headboard of the bed.

"This isn't pretty, Harry." He rolled his eyes, glad that she couldn't see his face.

"I didn't think it would be." There was a knock at the door, and Percy peeked in nervously.

"Mum," He said animatedly. "Professor Dumbledore's here."

…………………………………

Harry lay restlessly in Ron's bed, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to come back. She had left him to go downstairs to meet with Dumbledore, and Harry was dying to know what they were saying. A quiet tap on the door interrupted his agitated thoughts, and all was forgotten when little Ginny Weasley poked her head in the door.

"Hey H- Harry…" She stuttered nervously, shyly stumbling towards the edge of the bed and Harry sighed in annoyance. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He knew he was going to have to do something drastic to get her out of this awkward/shy faze. He sat up weakly.

"Hey, I was hoping you would come back." He smiled, looking down at the blankets covering him with false nervousness. She stared at him in confusion, cocking her head to the side.

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry shrugged sadly, really pouring it on thick.

"Well, I didn't know if you would think I was a freak or something." He said, looking up with his best puppy dog eyes. "That's why they hate me… because I'm a useless freak." Ginny gasped, her eyes burning with anger and sadness.

"No Harry, never say that! You're not a freak at all! I never want to hear that word come out of your mouth again, you understand?" He looked down and wiped his dry eyes, then looked back up at Ginny's horrified face.

"But, that's what Uncle Vernon said. He said I'm a freak… just like my Parents." Ginny's jaw clenched, and Harry worried that he had taken it too far.

At first she looked ready to kill with her fist balled up tight. Then tears were flowing down her cheeks and she crumpled on the end of Ron's bed, holding her face in her hands. Harry panicked, and immediately felt horrible and ignoring the stabs of pain in his stomach as he fumbled awkwardly to the end of the bed to console her.

"Oh, Ginny please don't cry!" Harry pleaded shamelessly, prying her hands from her face. "I'm sorry, don't cry. Please stop crying, please! I'll do anything; just don't cry because of me!" He begged her, wiping her cheeks with his hands desperately. If there was one thing he hated more than Voldemort, it was when girls cried. She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red and watery.

"How… how do you know my name?" Harry froze, backtracking to their first conversation. She had never told him her name, yet he had just called her Ginny.

"Uhhhh… I think your mom told me." He lied poorly, his face burning with embarrassment. She stared at him bemused, wiping her face.

"You think?" She said looking dubious. Harry nodded, then abruptly changed the subject.

"Are you done crying? I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Ginny shook her head, staring down at Ron's bed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You should be the one crying, not me. All these horrible things happened to you, and I'm over here blubbering like I even have something to cry about." Harry smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Well, there are other kids in the world who've had it way worse than I have, so I have no reason to cry either. How about we both just smile instead." He suggested, and Ginny forced a small smile, making him laugh.

"That… was pitiful." He said with a disapproving frown. She gave him a huge fake grin, which slowly turned real as he burst into secretly painful laughter.

"Better?" she giggled. He nodded, giving her thumbs up.

"Perfect." They both laughed, and Harry stared at her with wonder. How did she make him so happy without even trying? He mentally cheered when he realized his plan to get her back to normal had worked, if not in the way he had thought. Hopefully it would last, because the whole star-struck thing was going to get old fast.

There was another tap on the door, which made him jump. A man with a long white beard and twinkly blue eyes stood in the doorway.

"Hello there, Harry." He said jovially. Harry stared at him, and he stared back looking completely carefree, despite the fact that he knew Harry had just been beaten senseless by his muggle Uncle and then somehow appeared in a random wizarding family's home. Harry smiled nostalgically. That was his Dumbledore alright.

"Hi. I like your beard." Harry said with a quirky grin. Dumbledore chuckled, then came and sat on the edge of the bed. Was it just him, or was this bed getting a little crowded?

"Why thank you, you have raised my self confidence immensely. I was worried it made me look a bit old…" Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, but then looked back at Harry with a more serious expression. "But I didn't come here to talk about facial hair with you Harry. How are you feeling?" Harry shrugged.

"Fine." He lied, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and Harry rolled his eyes. "Really, I'm okay." The old Headmaster turned to Ginny and smiled apologetically.

"Miss Weasley, you may have to leave us for a moment if you don't mind." Ginny immediately stood in response, but Harry frowned and grabbed her hand.

"I don't want her to go." He said, his pleading eyes focused on her. Ginny looked uncertainly at Dumbledore while turning a light shade of pink, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well then. Harry, I need you to tell me exactly what happened when you acquired your injuries. Can you do that for me?" Harry grimaced, then with a sigh he began the sickening tale, editing out the real reason his Uncle had gotten so upset of course. Throughout the whole story, Harry stared down at his hands in embarrassment. Why had he been so stupid? He should have known better than to go and pick a fight with his psychotic Uncle when he had no way to fight back. His eyes began to burn, and he practically died with embarrassment when he realized he was crying. The whole room was silent when he finished, and he peeked up at Dumbledore from under his bangs. Dumbledore was staring at Harry with a look of complete serenity, but his eyes said something completely different.

"Thank you Harry. I know that was hard for you." He said, and his voice shook slightly. Harry glanced over at Ginny who was trying her best not to look completely horrified. Her hand was still clasped in his, and he squeezed it reassuringly. Mrs. Weasley was choking back sobs over by the door that made Harry groan internally.

"Yeah sure… but where do I go now?" He asked Dumbledore, hoping he would be allowed to stay at the Burrow. Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but Ginny got there first.

"You're staying here of course." She said matter-of-factly, and Harry felt a smile pushing at the corners of his mouth. She was already getting overly protective of him, he could feel it. It made his love for this little Ginny bubble in his stomach, and he wished he could just squeeze her tight and never let go. Of course he couldn't do that, but that didn't stop him from wishing it.

"Harry is very welcome to stay here, Albus… if that's alright with you." Mrs. Weasley acknowledged in a voice hoarse from crying. Ginny's hand tensed up in Harry's as she stared apprehensively at Dumbledore, and the old Headmaster smiled warmly at her.

"Well I don't see why not, he seems to have made quite the friend here. If this is what you want, Harry then-"

"It is." Harry cut him off quickly, an impish grin forming on his face. Everything was coming together quite nicely so far, besides the whole 'almost being beat to death' business. Ginny was practically glowing with happiness, and she smiled brightly at him. Dumbledore stood up, brushing off his midnight blue robes.

"Well I trust that you will be in good hands here, Harry." Dumbledore said, glancing at Ginny. "Oh, I almost forgot to give you this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brass key that Harry immediately recognized as his vault key, and tossed it to him. Harry caught it as it was about to soar right over his head, then cringed at the stab of pain from his arm in response, but refused to acknowledge the worried glance from Ginny.

"Thanks, sir." He said politely, and though he shouldn't know what it was, Dumbledore offered no explanation. Mrs. Weasley, who had finally put herself back together, walked with Dumbledore to the front door leaving him and Ginny alone.

"Well… welcome to the Burrow Harry." Ginny murmured, and he grinned. That sounded a lot more like 'welcome home' to him.