Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or profit from anything here within. Thanks to Jo Rowling who graciously permits us to tweak and play in HER world.

Chapter 5: Training Daze

Much to Harry's surprise, he was wide awake at five the next morning. In his entire life he couldn't remember ever rising with sun two days in a row on his own. Oddly enough, he felt as rested as he ever did.

It could be the change in dreams lately, he thought The previous night he had dreamed of flying Sirius's…correction, his motorcycle, over the Scottish highlands at night. In his dream a passenger was riding with him. (A female passenger judging by the way she felt pressed up against his back.) Unfortunately, they were both wearing helmets and he couldn't see her face. For some reason, he was disappointed that she hadn't revealed herself. Ah well, maybe tomorrow night, he thought with a sigh.

Harry quickly gathered a change of clothes and his toiletries. Slipping into his dressing robe, he trudged out of Percy's old room and down to the bathroom he was sharing with Ginny. After completing his morning routine in fifteen minutes, he made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. He would have been ready in ten minutes had he not been distracted by Ginny's unmentionables hanging from the shower rod when he entered. Finally, he gingerly moved them for his shower and put them back when he finished.

Reaching the kitchen, he quickly made himself useful by putting on a pot of tea. Next he rummaged through the cabinets looking for cereal. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, he resigned himself to eating an apple from the fruit bowl sitting on the kitchen table. While he was munching on his breakfast, the tea came to a boil. Harry removed it from the heat, poured a mug for himself and then emptied the remainder into a serving pot he found while searching for the cereal.

He knew he had about forty minutes before the Portkey would activate, so he decided to savour his morning tea. At that moment, Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen levitating a couple of baskets of laundry behind her. She passed straight with her laundry without sparing Harry a glance. She was humming a tune that he recognized from somewhere, but couldn't place.

A couple of minutes later, a fresh flowery scent preceded a sleepy-eyed Ginny into the kitchen. She never acknowledged him either. Instead, she went straight to the counter and poured herself a mug of tea. She seemed to savour the aroma for a moment before delicately sipping it.

After pulling a bowl from one of the cabinets over the sink, she reached into another cabinet and pulled out a box of cereal.

Where did she get that? Harry wondered. I'm sure I checked that cupboard earlier.

After pouring the cereal and adding milk she put away everything and moved her breakfast to the table, sitting across from him.

She seemed much more alert than before as she silently ate her cereal. After a few minutes she glanced up at him, "Good morning, Harry." She then continued eating, apparently uninterested in morning conversation.

Harry, however, realized this was another opportunity to get to know her better. Boldly he asked," So, what has you up this early in the morning?"

"Oh, I'm going to work at the twins shop. I have to be there extra early to stock the shelves before they open. They already left…said something about meeting a supplier."

Harry wondered if the disappointment he was feeling was showing on his face. "Does this mean we won't be able to fly this afternoon?" He cringed at the whininess in his voice, but for some reason he was really looking forward to spending time with her.

"I'll be back around noon. I work the morning shifts now and Ron works from noon until closing." Harry noticed she had a sour look on her face as she said this. He wondered if the look had something to do with having to work or if it had something to do with Ron. His question was answered when he heard her mutter under her breath, "Stupid git."

Harry thought about asking what had happened between she and Ron, but was prevented by the arrival of Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, dear me, good morning Harry, Professor Dumbledore said you had to be up and about early for your Occlumency lessons, but I didn't realize you would be up this early. Give me a minute and I'll have some breakfast ready for you."

That's odd, she didn't even acknowledge Ginny, Harry observed. He also noticed that Ginny bristled a bit at her mum's entrance. There was definitely something afoot in the Weasley household this morning, but unfortunately Harry didn't have time to try to solve this mystery. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly six o'clock and his Portkey would be activating in just a few minutes.

"That's okay Mrs. Weasley. I've already had an apple and some tea. My Portkey activates in just a few minutes. I wouldn't have time to have breakfast, but thanks. I'll be back in time for lunch."

Harry finished his last gulp of tea, stood up from the table and placed his mug in the sink to be washed. He paused for a moment to watch Mrs. Weasley bustling about the kitchen and starting breakfast for the rest of the family.

"Mrs. Weasley, could you tell Ron I'll see him when I get back at eleven for lunch?" She nodded in response as she continued to manhandle the pans on the stove. Bangers, eggs, and waffles were all going simultaneously and Harry marvelled at how easily she handled things.

Glancing at the clock again he realized his time was nearly up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the ring Dumbledore had given him the morning before and twisted it onto his right pinky finger. As he headed for the door of the kitchen, he muttered a hurried good bye to Ginny. He paused a moment to take in the fresh fragrance he had come to associate with the Burrow over the past few years. After leaving the house, he twisted the ring and muttered the activation key "Activo" Instantly he felt the familiar tug at his navel and he was transported away.

Crashing to his knees, Harry found himself on a white sandy beach. He rose to his feet and began taking in his surroundings. The sun was barely rising in the east and the air was much warmer here. Harry was confident from his observations that he was in a different time zone somewhere south of The Burrow.

He took in all of this in a moment. The next thing that he realized was that there was no one to greet him. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise and an unsettling feeling welled within him. Automatically, he drew his wand from his back pocket and trudged toward a house a quarter-kilometre from the shore.

At the edge of the sand there was a thin tree line with some other low vegetation; he was picking his way through when the first spell was launched at him. He never heard the incantation, but for some reason he knew a spell was cast. Reflexively he dropped flat to his stomach. The spell sliced through the underbrush before carving into one of the trees.

What the bloody hell is going on? His mind raced feverishly. Dumbledore gave him the Portkey. The Portkey must have taken him to the correct location. If he was where he was supposed to be, and was being attacked, then that meant the Death Eaters somehow found out about his training and made preparations to ambush him.

Harry quickly began thinking through his limited possibilities. The first option was to hide until the Portkey had recharged and then use it to escape to The Burrow. The problem with that scenario was that he would be dodging Death Eaters for the next five hours. He wasn't sure if Aberforth and Ms. Bristol were alive or not. If they weren't, it would be a very long wait.

The second option involved trying to make his way to the house and see if he could find some way of calling for help. This seemed the more prudent of his choices. He began crawling along on his stomach, trying to find some protection while he tried to locate his opponent.

When Harry reached the edge of the tree line, he crouched behind a large piece of driftwood and some rocks as he scanned the grounds around the house. He silently cursed Dumbledore for apparently trusting the wrong person with the information of his return and his subsequent training. After waiting for five minutes without any apparent movement from his opponent, Harry almost took a shot at getting to the house. Something, however, compelled him to wait.

Another two minutes passed and his patience was rewarded. A single figure emerged from the tree line about fifty meters from where he was hidden. He examined the figure and tried to make out as much as he could about his opponent.

It appeared he was facing a witch. The figure was dressed in a loose fitting outfit made of something similar to silk. She had long, coal black hair that while pulled back into a tailstill came nearly to her waist. She had porcelain skin and in fact, if Harry had to consider it, she was quite beautiful. He quickly shook those thoughts from his head. Beautiful or not, she had attacked him. Furthermore, it seemed that his only path of escape was through her.

Harry began circling her as he skirted the tree line. He was angling to get a clear, easy shot at his attacker. Finally he had perfect alignment. Taking the shot, he carefully aimed his wand and muttered, "Stupify!" A beam of red light shot from his wand and he could feel the recoil. The streak of light hit his opponent square in the back. The witch groaned in surprise before tumbling to the ground unconscious.

I did it! He was nervously excited. He had managed to stun her. He carefully stepped out from his hiding place in the woods and began making his way to where she lay. He wanted to get her wand from her and try to figure out who she was. He was nearly to her when the series of hexes and spells began.

He managed to cast a shield charm to block the first couple of spells launched at him. These spells were pounding into his shield with more power than he had ever felt in his life. After the third spell, a cutting hex judging from its appearance, he dropped the shield spell and dodged the next couple of jinxes headed his way. In the process, he made to put himself between the house and his assailant.

He spotted his opponent emerging from cover. He barely took time to acknowledge the wizard before pointing and in a cold voice muttered, "Relashio!" Jets of fire shots from Harry's wand and zoomed toward new figure. At the last moment a shield coalesced around his adversary and blocked the spell with a thunderous boom. Harry could feel the heat from the spell wash back to him and was positive the impact knocked his opponent back a step or two.

The next few minutes were a blur of activity as Harry began rapidly trading spells with his opponent. By the end of the first minute though, it was apparent that Harry was clearly outclassed by his foe. Some of the spells he blocked and dodged were of a power level Harry had witnessed only one other time…the duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore in the Ministry Atrium this past June.

Still he continued firing spells back as rapidly as he could. He didn't have a wide range of spells to choose from, but the spells he did know he could rapidly cast. He continuously fired a barrage of cutting hexes, bludgeoning curses, and stunning spells at his opponent. Occasionally he mixed in a stinging hex, tickling spell, or tripping jinx. The only problem was he was beginning to feel tired. He had never used this much magic at this furious of a pace.

He knew it wasn't going to be long when he blocked a particularly strong bludgeoning curse that jarred his teeth when it smacked into his shield. The next flurry of spells ended it. A series of bludgeoning curses finally collapsed his shield. In a split second, he was sailing though the air and his wand flew from his hand to be deftly snatched out of the air by his opponent. Defeated, Harry crashed to the ground slamming the back of his head to the earth. It was futile to resist. He felt light-headed and fuzzy. The strain was too much and he promptly collapsed into unconsciousness.

Harry groggily came awake. He was lying on a sofa in a room he had never been in before. The sound of the ocean waves drifted in from outside and indicated that he must be in the house he saw earlier. The back of his head was throbbing with his pulse and his body ached as if he'd run a marathon.

Carefully sitting up, he closed his eyes to ride out the spinning sensation he felt. Settled, he swung his feet off of the couch and braced himself to try to stand. When he opened his eyes, Harry saw his glasses and wand lying on the table next to the sofa. He slipped on his glasses and then snatched his wand up before carefully looking around the well-appointed room.

Harry was puzzled. If he had been captured by Death Eaters, surely they wouldn't have left him unguarded with his wand. Where am I? What is going on?

He continued to puzzle over this while he took in the room. It was obviously a wizarding home judging by the moving portraits on the walls. The wall he faced was dominated by a massive fireplace with a giant portrait of a bridge above it. Harry watched fascinated as goats periodically came down from the mountainous side of the bridge and crossed it.

His reverie was interrupted by the entrance of someone from his left. "Ahh…I see you are awake now Mr. Potter. Nasty bump on the head. Sorry about that. Here take this and drink it down. It will help immensely with the headache I'm sure you are experiencing right now."

The man before him was interesting in the least. He appeared to be a bit taller than Harry and thinly built. He was dressed in khaki trousers and the brightest, red tropical print shirt Harry had ever witnessed. He had a tightly trimmed salt and pepper beard and while his grey hair was thin on top, the fringe on the sides and back was pulled back into a tail. He appeared to be around Professor McGonagall's age, although Harry knew enough about wizards to know that appearance meant little with regards to age. It was the bright twinkling blue eyes that gave Harry an inkling of whom he was speaking with.

"Aberforth?" He asked tentatively in case his guess was wrong. When the man smiled and pressed the steaming mug into his hands, Harry knew that he was correct. "What happened? Why was I attacked when I arrived?"

Aberforth merely chuckled. "That, my boy, was my way of testing you. I needed to get an idea of where you stood before I began training you this summer." He sat down in a wicker chair across from Harry. He motioned to the mug in Harry's hand. "Drink, it will make you feel better."

Harry looked dubiously at the mug that seemed to have either steam or thin smoke wafting off of it. Swallowing and licking his lips he hesitantly brought the mug to his mouth and sipped. His eyes watered and his mouth and throat felt like it was on fire as the liquid washed down. He felt a warmth move through his gullet before settling in his stomach and radiating outward.

"I see you've never had the pleasure of fire-whiskey before." Harry glanced up to see the man's eyes alight with mirth. "Don't worry, the alcohol is only a small ingredient I add to the concoction to make it easier to swallow."

If this is easier than the straight concoction, I don't see how anyone would ever be able to drink it straight. He kept sipping at the mug feeling the warmth radiate throughout his body. Soon he felt the aches and the pains in his body lessen and his tense muscles relax. Finally, the dull throb in his head stopped. Before Harry knew it, he found himself feeling better than he had in a while and recklessly asked, "So how did I do? Did I pass the test?"

The older man's lips quirked into a half-smile before he responded, "You are the first potential student I've had that managed to stun Ms. Bristol. You also lasted longer toe to toe with me than anyone I've duelled since your father. He and I had a sparring match before your first birthday."

Hearing about his father perked Harry's interest greatly. "You knew my father?" Despite, the incident with Snape's memory in the pensive last term, Harry was still always starved to learn more about his father.

"Yes, I knew James. He was one of the most talented duellers I ever worked with. He had just completed his Auror training, but was still waiting to get his official notification of acceptance as an Auror." His eyes had a distant faraway look as he remembered. "At Albus's recommendation I took him on to help brush up on his skills. We worked on and off for the next few months as he awaited his appointment." He sighed, "Unfortunately, your family had to go into hiding right before he received it."

Seeming to snap out of his reverie, he changed the subject, "Ok, now let's talk about what you will be learning while you are here. Today and for the rest of the week I will be spending an hour with you teaching you meditation techniques to help you learn to clear and focus your mind for Occlumency."

"Starting tomorrow, Ms. Bristol will spend every other day teaching you the rudiments of hand-to-hand combat and how to tie the techniques into magical duelling. She had a massive headache after that stunner you hit her with earlier, so I suspect you will be quite bruised when you leave here tomorrow." The look of merriment on his face as he said the last filled Harry with a sense of dread.

He continued on, "By the look of you and the stamina you demonstrated earlier you seem to be in pretty good shape. You will be training physically as well. You will need to have enough stamina to duel for hours if need be. Finally, I will be helping you learn more spells to add to your arsenal. You will not only learn when to use them, but how to cast them silently. We will also do some quickness exercises, although I'm not sure how much faster we will be able to make you."

Harry digested the items as Aberforth explained them. This was what he needed to do to prepare. He needed to be able to do more than rely on dumb luck and others to bail him out, as he had done in the past; he needed be able to take care of himself. With a look of determination on his face and a fiery gleam in his emerald eyes he spoke, "Let's get started then."

He ached. From head to toe his entire body ached. Harry spent the past four hours being pushed harder than anything he ever experienced in his short life.

After introducing himself, Aberforth spent the next hour instructing Harry in the rudiments of Occlumency and the various relaxation techniques required to order his mind for it. Harry silently fumed as he realized that Snape never bothered to teach him anything necessary to defend himself in their so-called lessons. Harry just chalked it up to one more reason to dislike and distrust his professor.

The second hour was spent learning the basics of silent casting. Aberforth was delighted that Harry managed to cast a simple levitation charm on the fifth try. He was even more interested that the effort didn't seem to exhaust him like expected. According to Aberforth, most students of silent casting find the process draining until they've trained themselves completely. For Harry to be successful during his first lesson and not be totally wiped out by the experience was impressive.

If Harry wasn't exhausted by the silent casting lesson, the physical training during the next ninety minutes more than made up for it. Aberforth warmed him up by leading him jogging around the estate once then taught him some stretches to limber his muscles. Then he proceeded to tear Harry apart, muscle by muscle, with various exercises. He cooled him down with Tai Chi exercises he mentioned learning during his travels in Tibet. The Tai Chi refreshed him somewhat, but still Harry was convinced he could drop face first in his bed at the Burrow and sleep until September 1st.

They spent the last thirty minutes back in the sitting room where Aberforth instructed him in the use of a magic journal he was to begin keeping. Essentially, Harry was to use the notebook to list all the magic he knew and then to list all the possible uses the spells could have in a magical duel. It was the type of assignment Hermione would do for a lark, but even Harry couldn't deny that he was interested to see what he could learn from this. His new journal tucked underneath his arm, the Portkey activated and returned him to the Burrow.

Harry delicately crept into the kitchen to find Ron in the process of devouring a plate of sandwiches.

"Wamph 'thome?" Ron asked, pointing at the plate of sandwiches.

Harry nodded his appreciation and gingerly slid into the chair across from Ron, grabbed one of the sandwiches and bit in. The sandwich was ham and cheese from the taste of it, with perhaps a hint of horseradish.

After eating in silence for a few minutes, Ron let out a mild belch followed by a sigh. "So, where were you all morning? I was hoping we could get some flying in today before I had to go to work."

Harry looked up at him tiredly. He carefully chewed his bite of sandwich as he mulled over his response. "I was taking Occlumency lessons. After what happened in June…," his voice hitched, "…erm…we both decided that I needed to make sure Voldemort couldn't ever use me that way again."

The reference to Sirius's death seemed to quell Ron's curiosity as Harry had intended it too. "So…umm…are you going to be having these lessons all week?"

Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples Harry sighed, "Unfortunately, I have these lessons every morning Monday through Friday until we return to school." He paused and looked Ron straight into the eyes. "I will also probably have to continue them once we return to school."

Ron's face betrayed his disappointment. "Bloody Hell…it looks like the only time we'll get to really do anything will be the evenings and the weekends." He stopped a moment and his face flushed red. "Damn! I have to work this weekend. The twins are expecting business to be heavy with school coming up. Mum said I had to work both Saturday and Sunday. Said Ginny had something to do for her instead of her shift on Saturday." The way Ron mentioned Ginny's name made it sound like a curse word. Something definitely was going on between the siblings. Whatever it was, Harry figured he would find out when either of them wanted to tell. Until then, he would just have to be a friend to both as well as he could.

Ron glanced up at the clock and sighed. "Brilliant…just brilliant…I've got to go. The twins make me test products when I'm late." He heaved his lanky form out of his chair and made his way over to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot and threw it in. "So long, Harry." Stepping into the green flames he called out. "Number ninety-three Diagon Alley!" With a whoosh of flames he was gone.

Harry gathered his and Ron's plates, carried them to the sink and made short work of cleaning them. He was about to start cleaning the table when a sharp pain in his arm reminded him of Aberforth's instructions before he left. Within an hour he was to take a shower set as hot as he could tolerate it. It would relax his muscles and soothe his pain. His other instructions were to write two spells into the Journal, practice his Occlumency exercises and practice the Tai Chi form before bed.

With a sigh he gathered the journal and staggered up the stairs.

Feeling much better and refreshed Harry clutched his Firebolt in his hand as he ambled down the stairs. He was going flying. He hoped Ginny would join him, but whether she made her way out or not he needed some broom time.

He nearly made it out the door when something caught his ear from the kitchen. It was the same tune Mrs. Weasley was humming earlier that morning, but this time the clearest, pure voice Harry ever heard was singing it.

"O Bonny Portmore I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree
For it stood on your shore for many's the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away."

Harry stood mesmerized by the haunting melody. He could feel his heart rate relaxing as all tension left his body. The fresh fragrance of flowers that he associated with the Burrow washed over him. He leaned his head closer to the kitchen door as the singer continued.

"O Bonny Portmore you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore."

Harry slowly crept towards the door. He fully intended to ask Mrs. Weasley the title of the song and tell her how wonderfully she sang when she finished. The haunting melody simply washed over him in a way he couldn't describe.

"All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep

Saying "Where shall we shelter or where shall we sleep?"

For the Oak and the Ash they all cutten down

And the walls of Bonny Portmore are all down to the ground."

He peered around the corner and his breath hitched in his throat. Bustling around the kitchen cleaning as she sang wasn't Mrs. Weasley, but Ginny. His throat dry, Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from her as Ginny concluded the song.

"O Bonny Portmore you shine where you stand

And the more I think on you the more I think long

If I had you now as I had once before

All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore."

With every bit of willpower he possessed, Harry pulled himself back around the corner. He was absolutely amazed. Never, would he have guessed that Ginny Weasley could sing like that. His heart was hammering in his chest now. A small smile on his face, he realized he could listen to her sing all day long and never grow tired of her voice.

Suddenly a little voice inside his head pulled him out of his reverie. What are you bloody thinking? You sound like a lovesick fool. That is Ginny Weasley in there. She's Ron's sister. She doesn't need you falling all over yourself, because you think she sings prettily. She probably would think you were mental. He suddenly felt embarrassed although he couldn't understand why.

He needed to fly. He needed to clear his head. He started towards the door again when suddenly Ginny appeared from the kitchen. "Oh, Harry…" she yelped in surprise. "I didn't realize you were down from the shower yet. I just finished cleaning up the kitchen if you are ready to go flying."

"Erm…yeah…sure." He smiled sheepishly at her. He momentarily considered teasing her about the singing, but then thought better of it. If she knows I heard her, I might not ever get to hear her again.

"Why thank you for bringing me a broom to fly," she laughed as she deftly snatched his Firebolt from beside the door. She quickly scampered out the door with Harry giving chase as quickly as his tired muscles would carry him.

Once in the garden, she darted to and fro as Harry scrambled to catch her. Her laughter was ringing like fairy bells as he cornered her near her father's workshop. "Give it up Potter, you'll never catch me," she teased casting him a sly look. "And of course, everyone knows you are rubbish without your fabulous Firebolt."

"Oi, Weasley, you are going to pay for that!" Grinning madly from ear to ear, he closed in upon her. He lunged, but she managed to duck and scramble towards the house laughing all the while.

Harry really turned on the speed and was closing in on her when she suddenly stopped, allowing him no time to react. In the next second, he crashed into her, sending them both tumbling into a heap. With arms, elbows, knees, and legs stopped in a tangled mess, Harry found himself lying atop Ginny staring deeply into her eyes. She lay beneath him panting from her exertions, her brow glistening with perspiration. A stray lock of hair fell into her face and Harry had an insane desire to push it out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. He found himself drowning in her flowery scent before the realization of their position hit him.

He quickly jumped up, sure that he was blushing furiously. Unable to face her, instead he tried to cover his discomfort by snatching his Firebolt. "Hah!" He shouted in triumph as he pulled away from her and tried to recover the easy banter they'd shared earlier. Instead of joining the game however, Ginny wasn't paying the slightest bit attention to him. He followed her gaze to his motorcycle parked next to the old carport.

"So how about a ride on that, Potter?" The mischief was ringing in her voice as she turned to him, eyes twinkling.

At first, Harry was taken aback. "Um…yeah…sure. Why not?" With a shrug he strolled over to the bike. He leaned his broom against the carport and began showing her the features of operation, much like Remus had shown him the day before. She seemed to hang upon his every word. Once he had described how everything worked, he climbed aboard and patted the seat behind him.

Excitedly, she climbed aboard and gripped the passenger handles tightly. With a grin Harry started the bike and throttled it up. He pulled out slowly and began moving at a slow clip down the road and away from the Burrow towards the village.

"Is this as fast as this thing can go?" she shouted into his ear. "I thought these things went faster than Ron's old broom at least. I think a butterfly passed us just a second ago."

Wants to go fast does she? Harry smirked as he throttled the engine up and popped the clutch to go faster. As if he'd been riding all his life, he pulled back on the handlebars like Tonks had shown him and the front wheel rose up in the air.

Ginny let out a yelp and her arms quickly encased his torso, squeezing him tightly. Harry continued racing faster until her screams turned to laughter. Lost in the speed and excitement of the ride, she clung to him instead of moving her hands back to the hand grips.

The two lost track of time as they zoomed around the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole. At times, Harry found himself at the height of elation as he elicited screams of excitement and fear from her though breakneck dashes, hairpin turns, and even the occasional leap across the obstacles in their path.

Other times, he felt the strangest of tingles in his spine and stomach as she urged him to go faster. He couldn't ignore her warm breath upon his ear as she clutched tightly to him in response to his rapid direction changes.

During one stretch of road in which the speedometer registered around 140 kilometers per hour, she was snuggled against his back and her head resting against him. Harry began thinking of the future possibilities of the motorcycle. If I ever find that special someone like my dad and mum did, I'll have to take her riding like this.

It was the sun arching down to the west that alerted them to the passage of time. Gunning the engine for all it was worth, Harry zoomed faster than they had all afternoon, trying to get them back before the Order was sent out to find them.

The Burrow finally in sight, Harry slowed to a reasonable speed. He figured they were going to be in enough trouble as it was. He didn't want to add the crime of being reckless with the safety of their only daughter to the list.

They pulled up next to the car port and Harry killed the engine. He swung off the motorcycle and reached up to help Ginny off. Her eyes glowing she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. That was as fun as flying. We definitely have to do that again.

At first tentatively, then more firmly Harry returned the hug. He suddenly felt warm for no apparent reason. His palms were sweating and he felt a jolt of electricity with every word she spoke into his ear. Inside he was thinking, We most definitely will do that again. Every day if you like. Suddenly, Harry found his body reacting to her in a most embarrassing and unexpected way.

He was spared the embarrassment of pulling away from her when the voice of Mrs. Weasley howled louder than the motorcycle engine. "Where have you been? House empty! Motorcycle gone! No note! You could have been seen! You could have been killed!"

With each accusation Harry felt his face warming. He couldn't raise his eyes to face her. Granted, part of him was mortified at the thought of her disappointment in him. Another part was struggling not to burst out in laughter as he remembered a similar scolding given to Ron and the Twins the summer before his second year when they had driven Mr. Weasley's flying car to Little Whinging to rescue him.

He glanced up at Ginny to see her scowling defiantly at her mum. Her eyes widened when her mother turned upon her, "And you Ginevra Molly Weasley know better! I expect this from Fred and George, but I thought you had more sense than that."

Now looking properly remorseful Ginny spoke up, "Sorry mum, but this is my fault. I begged and begged Harry to take me for a ride. I even fibbed to him and told him you said it was alright this morning."

Harry's jaw dropped at the brazen lie Ginny had just told to get him off the hook with her mother. His attention was called back to Mrs. Weasley. "Is that true Harry? Did Ginny tell you that I had said it was alright?"

Harry glanced at Ginny to see her giving him a look that seemed to say, Just go along with it? His first reaction was to set the facts straight. Then he realized that pointing out that Ginny had just lied would land her in much worse trouble than she'd be in otherwise just to get himself out of trouble. No way is she taking the blame!

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley. This is all my fault. Ginny is just trying to cover for me. I really wanted to go for another ride on my motorcycle. Ginny told me that it wasn't a good idea for me to go anywhere alone. She tried to stop me." He smiled as he said the next part. "She even threatened to bat-bogey hex me and risk a warning from the Ministry for underage magic. But I just begged and pleaded and told her that if she came with me then I wouldn't be alone," he concluded giving Mrs. Weasley his most sorrowful look.

Mrs. Weasley's frown turned to contemplation as she looked back and forth between them. It was as if she was trying to figure something out. Finally she responded, "Very well, just don't do it again. I had half the Order out looking for you two. That was very irresponsible of you Harry Potter…and leading Ginny astray with you." Harry could have been mistaken, but it seemed that she wasn't really angry anymore and that this scolding was for more of a show than anything else.

Still, to have Mrs. Weasley disappointed in him did hurt. He looked down at his feet while scuffing the dirt with his left trainer. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I'll be sure to not let this happen again." And he was honest; he no intention of staying out late enough the next time to be caught.

Dinner was the normal loud and boisterous affair at the Weasley household. The twins were going on and on about how the flat above their shop was nearly ready. They expected to be able to move in sometime in September. When Mrs. Weasley started to object, they quickly headed her off by promising to be home for supper every day. This mollified her somewhat, but Harry realized that it was more likely so that they could eat their mum's cooking at least once a day rather than an attempt to make her feel better.

Bill and Charlie were quietly discussing Order business with their father at the end of the table. The bits and pieces that Harry had been able to pick up seemed to indicate that the Order was trying to refocus their efforts after Harry's disappearance. They were going to channel their energies into tracking the movements of known Death Eaters in the hopes of anticipating Voldemort's next move. At the moment, however, the guesses ranged from terror attacks like the previous war to a direct assault on Hogwarts or the Ministry.

Ginny and her mother were carrying on a private conversation as well, punctuated occasionally with one or the other looking up at Harry and smiling. The only member of the Weasley family that didn't seem to be in the spirit of things was Ron. Ron had been uncharacteristically closed mouth since Harry and Ginny entered the kitchen. He had motioned for Harry to sit beside him and Harry caught him giving Ginny a very dark look as she moved further down the table to sit next to her mum. However, the entire time Ron hadn't said a word to anyone beyond requests to pass this particular dish.

Harry got the distinct impression that Ron was upset with both he and Ginny, but for the life of him couldn't think why beyond the fact that Harry had taken her for a ride on the motorcycle. Deciding that the dinner table was neither the time nor the place, he vowed to ask Ron about it later.

Harry's opportunity came at the end of dinner. Molly dismissed the boys, but asked Ginny to help her clean up. Apparently, it was her turn. Ron appeared to be heading up to his room when Harry hastily asked, "Ron…let's go flying."

Ron turned at him and began searching Harry's face. Whatever he was looking for apparently he found it. "Sure…come on let's go." With that he turned and headed out the door to the broom shed.

Harry found his Firebolt tucked into the shed along with all of the other Weasley brooms. Ron grabbed his Cleansweep and led Harry down to the orchard out back.

As they were alone and not seeing another opportunity in the near future Harry broached the subject, "Alright Ron, what's going on? You've barely spoken two words to me this evening."

Ron stiffened momentarily before continuing on. At first Harry thought he wasn't going to answer but then he turned to face him, "Harry…what's going on with you and my little sister?"

Harry reeled for a moment as he struggled to find the right words to say. Of all the things he expected Ron to say, this wasn't it. "Umm…nothing really. I mean, I like her as a friend and all. And I do feel like that over the years, she has been a much better friend to me than I've been to her." He paused, "I'm just trying to make it up to her for always leaving her out before. She didn't deserve that and she proved that last June when she came with us to the Ministry."

Ron studied him as he spoke. "So you don't fancy her or anything?"

What? He must think I'm trying to go out with her like that Corner bloke last term. Harry's mind raced to come up with a response. Harry was sure if he said anything that might indicate the slightest chance of him ever fancying Ginny, he would earn himself a bloody nose.

"Because if you do," Ron began looking out at the orchard, "it would be alright with me, just don't try to hide it from me." With that he turned back around and continued to the orchard. Harry just stood there stunned as he suddenly realized that for Ron, that was the highest endorsement a bloke could get. Ron hated the thought of Ginny with Michael Corner last term. He had spent many evenings thinking of creative ways to try to hex Corner or any other bloke that showed interest in Ginny. For Ron to be alright with him fancying Ginny said something. As moving as it was, all Harry could say in response was, "Ron, Ginny and I are just friends, but I promise you, if anything ever changes, I'll let you know." Not that anything is going to change, I've got other things to worry about, he silently added.

That night found Harry alone in Percy's room, scribbling through the remainder of his homework. He was confident that at this rate, he would have it all done by the end of the week.

The rest of the evening had gone quite pleasantly with he and Ron flying around the Orchard before being joined by Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny. They didn't really have enough for a formal game, but mostly just played around and tried to out do one another with various stunts.

Harry was interested in watching Charlie Weasley fly, considering the reverence with which Oliver Wood had spoken about him during Harry's first three years at Hogwarts. Harry realized that Oliver, for all his enthusiasm, barely scraped the surface of the talent Charlie possessed when it came to flying. Of course what Harry found even more interesting was watching Ginny fly circles around her older brothers. While Harry would never say it to any of them, it was obvious that Ginny was the best flyer of the bunch, although Charlie was close, very close.

They flew until the Mrs. Weasley called out to the pitch reprimanding Fred and George about some beast roaring in their room. With that everyone made their way back to the house. Ron had challenged Harry to a game of chess, but Harry begged off. He had told Ron that unlike some people eight weeks of his summer hadn't been available for him to work on his homework and that he needed to get it finished. Ron stared at him as if he had grown a second head until Mr. Weasley had challenged him to a game.

Harry worked on his homework for an hour, surprising himself at the amount he had finished. Deciding that was enough for the evening he then busied himself with starting Aberforth's Spell Journal. He decided to start with the Levitation Spell and found that due to he and Ron's experience with the Troll his first year, he could come up with several uses of the spell in a dueling situation.

An hour and two spells later Harry, felt he had done enough for one day. When Abe had asked him earlier to try this, Harry thought it might be useful. Now, after having analysed three simple first year spells and realizing all the potential they held for combat, he knew that keeping this journal was going to be one of the more pleasant aspects of his training.

Realizing that is was nearing the time he needed to retire for the evening, Harry made his way to the loo to make his evening absolutions and brush his teeth. He passed Ginny heading back to her room and she shot him a warm, sleepy smile.

Returning to his room he stripped down to his pyjama bottoms and quietly as possible went through the Tai Chi exercise Abe taught him that day. Gradually he drifted off to sleep, running the various relaxation and concentration exercises through his mind.