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Chapter two: Back to the Burrow

Harry stumbled out of the fire place, his visible skin carpeted in soot. He smiled, drinking in the familiar scenery, Mrs Weasley's clock (all hands were still pointing to mortal peril), the mismatching furniture, the mirror on the mantel piece, who found great pleasure in insulting Harry's disheveled hair and next to this, Harry noted sadly, was an old, battered radio playing one of Celestina Warbeck's songs. Harry's thoughts were interrupted as two redheads crashed into him. He yelped in surprise and fumbled for his wand.

Mrs Weasley had thrown herself at Harry for a hug, where as Ron, had probably been thrown from the fireplace onto Harry. Yes, from the looks of it, Ron had not had the best of floo rides, he was covered in soot (if not more than Harry) and supporting a slightly punch-drunk expression.

'Harry dear! How are you?' Mrs Weasley, who had recovered first, was on her feet and offering Harry a hand. He took it gratefully, whilst extracting himself from Ron's long limbs. 'Are you sure you're okay, you look a bit peaky,' she fused. Ron, who was being disregarded by his mother, used the table edge to lift himself from where the three had been lying in a flustered heap. Mrs Weasley's hat was still lopsided.

Deciding it better not to point out this fact, Harry answered Mrs Weasley's question. 'I – err – I'm fine Mrs Weasley.' Harry ignored the same uneasy feeling he had experienced by the black lake and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Mrs Weasley didn't look completely satisfied but let the matter drop. She finally acknowledged Ron, ('Oh Ronald') and began to attack the soot on his face. 'Your brothers never managed to get this filthy,' she tutted, once again reminding Harry of a mother hen.

'Harry has just as much on him!' Ron protested indignantly, supporting a very red, but never the less clean right cheek.

'Yes Ronald,' Mrs Weasley sighed, exasperated, 'But Harry has used the floo network a lot less than you,' shooting Harry a fond glance over her shoulder. Harry just shrugged at Ron to say 'just agree with her mate', when Ron opened his mouth to protest again.

At that moment Hermione toppled out of the fire place into Ron's arms. They both staggered backwards.

'Oh, Hello Hermione,' Hermione was now extracting herself from Ron; the latter's face and ears glowing red. As Mrs Weasley took Hermione in for a hug, Harry noticed that Hermione to, was rather pink. Harry wondered whether Mrs Weasley new about Ron and Hermione being a couple. Though knowing Ron it had probably 'slipped his mind'.

Ginny followed suit, falling onto the hard stone surrounding the fireplace. Her eyes fell longingly on Ron and Hermione, then realizing no one would catch her, or now, be there to help her up, she clambered to her feet, huffed and stormed upstairs. Harry's eyes trailed her retreating figure, before she disappeared into her room, slamming the door. Harry looked at Hermione confused; the latter just rolled her eyes at Harry's tactlessness. Mrs Weasley, seeming oblivious to the happenings of the last few minuets, turned to Hermione.

'Hermione you don't mind sharing a room with Ginny do you?' Hermione shook her head. 'Good, then that leaves Harry and Ron together, Percy can have his old room and Charlie can sleep with George.' Guilt clenched Harry's stomach at the work he was causing for Mrs Weasley by staying with them, especially as Fred should be sleeping where Charlie was. 'There, now everyone will be comfortable. Oh, and Harry dear, can you tell Ginny on the way up, that dinner will be in an hour.' Harry nodded and followed Ron upstairs to the first landing. Ron continued on, leaving a slightly apprehensive Harry, to knock on Ginny's door.


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She-who-can't-be-named