Disclaimer: Based on the findings of Rowling (1997) and subsequent publications, I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 25

The Grangers arrived at the Burrow to find and even stranger magical environment than Diagon Alley. As the Weasleys stepped out of the fireplace, seven hands on a large clock shifted one by one from "Travelling" to "Home". On closer inspection, each hand proved to have the name of one of the Weasleys on it. Two other hands, belonging to Bill and Charlie, were pointing at "Work". There were moving pictures on the walls, a disturbing howl coming from someplace high above, and a mirror in the kitchen that verbally greeted the guests. A bird that looked more like a feather duster than an owl sat sleeping on a perch in the corner. The smell of baked chicken was wafting through the house.

They quickly hauled Hermione's trunk up to Ginny's room and then settled into the kitchen. It was a tight fit, but it seemed as if the Weasleys were used to it, as they set the table, laid out the food and took their seats like a well-oiled machine. (Not without a bit of complaining and quarrelling, but they really were practised at it.)

Before they sat down, Hermione whispered to Fred and George, "If you prank my parents, you will regret it. Remember, girls can get into the boys' dorms at school, but not the other way around."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Hermione," Fred replied.

"Yeah, they're guests in our house, after all," George added.

"And they haven't done anything to…provoke us."

"Good," Hermione said. "Let's see it that it stays that way."

Once everyone was seated around the table, Mr. Weasley declared, "Tuck in," and that's exactly what they did. The food was all extremely good. Ron had more than once boasted that his mother's cooking was even better than the Hogwarts food, but Hermione hadn't believed it. The Hogwarts food was always good quality, being made by dozens of house elves who were specifically trained in cooking and were the equivalent of professional chefs, so she'd no reason to believe Ron's claims—until now.

"This is wonderful food, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said.

"Mm hmm. Definitely," her mother added. "How ever did you do it?"

"It's simply magic," Mr. Weasley said with a grin.

"Oh, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley chided him. "Just a little something I threw together."

It was more than "a little something", though. Mrs. Weasley was modest enough about her cooking, but the Grangers (and Harry) were impressed. It emerged that she had slaughtered the fattest chicken that morning, plucked it, stuffed it, and baked it with vegetables and gravy especially for the occasion All the other ingredients were kept as fresh as possible under preserving charms, and she surely had used some more magic to prepare such an elaborate dinner for eleven in a single day and still have time for shopping.

Inevitably, the conservation turned to each other's lives. It was quite rare for wizards to be able to catch up with muggles, even when their children were good friends. Mr. Weasley had an astonishing number of questions about how the muggle world worked. It was entertaining, but his level of ignorance was disturbing, especially for a wizard who was supposed to work with muggle artifacts. Then again, Hermione's parents were just as ignorant about the magical world, although they had the Statute of Secrecy as an excuse.

"So, Hermione, what have you been up to over the summer?" Fred asked interestedly.

"Well, one of the first things I did was take my A-level in maths. That's like a N.E.W.T…I got an A on it," she said happily.

Every one of the Weasleys gasped, from Arthur all the way down to Ginny. Clearly, her reputation had preceded her.

"That's like an O at Hogwarts," she clarified as Harry and her parents laughed.

"Oh," they all sighed with relief. Hermione Granger getting a mere Acceptable in maths would be a disaster. Being happy about it would be a sign of the Apocalypse. Fred and George grinned and discreetly raised their glasses to her for that one.

"So are you done with muggle maths, now?" Ron asked.

"Oh, heavens, no. There's loads more at university level."

"Yes, she started right in on vector calculus after that," Dan said, to no one's surprise.

"But it's been very good to have her at home," Emma added. "Hermione's even showed us how to make a couple of potions that don't require a wand."

That raised some eyebrows around the room. "You can do that?" Ron blurted.

"Sure," Hermione said, "if there's no wand work, all the magic's in the ingredients…Although, actually, I think it might be possible for muggles to brew a lot of the standard potions using runes, since the spells are so standardised."

The Weasleys looked on with astonishment.

"But you can't—but that's—" Mrs. Weasley stammered, but she couldn't seem to think of an actual objection.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley said. "That's quite interesting. I never really thought of it that way before. I can't think of any reason why it wouldn't work though, if the runes can replace what the spells do."

Then, to her surprise, Percy spoke up: "Hermione, if you can actually demonstrate that, you should write it up. I'm sure The Practical Potioneer would love to see new developments coming from a bright young student."

"Really? She squeaked. "But I'll only be a second year."

"Professor Dumbledore was in all kinds of journals when he was still a student," Percy said importantly. "And I think you have the potential to follow in his footsteps if you apply yourself to it."

Hermione was in a daze at this compliment, but suddenly, Ron started laughing. She glared at him, but he said, "Merlin's beard, can you imagine the look on Snape's face if he sees your name in his journal. You gotta try it."

Hermione imagined it and laughed in spite of herself. He'd have to give her points then…or else he'd find an excuse to take about fifty away out of spite. Harry, Fred, George, and even Ginny all thought it was hilarious.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley noticed Fred and George getting very interested looks on their faces and decided to nip that in the bud. "Don't even think about it!" she said. "Whatever you're thinking about, just stop it." This caused the rest of the children to laugh even more.

"So what about you, Arthur?" Dan asked. "What is it that you do, exactly?"

"I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic," Mr. Weasley replied eagerly.

"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts?"

"Yes, you see, the regulations on enchanting muggle artifacts are actually quite strict because they could be accidentally sold or given to muggles, and my office is the one that enforces them. Of course, the big trouble is what we call 'muggle-baiting'. Some wizards will deliberately sell an unsuspecting muggle prank items like vanishing keys or biting doorknobs, and, of course, a muggle who doesn't know about magic would never tell anyone because no one would believe them."

"Oh, I can see how that would be a problem," Dan replied. "It's good to know someone's looking out for us, then."

"Father recently successfully lobbied the Wizengamot to pass a Muggle Protection Act to more uniformly punish muggle-baiting and other crimes against muggles," Percy said. He hadn't shown that much pride in his family at school, but apparently even he thought that passing something through the Wizengamot meant something, and if it was anything like Parliament, the Grangers had to agree.

"Really?" Emma said in surprise. "That can't have been easy. It sounds like you're doing good work."

"Well, I like to think so. Mind you, most of us are perfectly friendly people. There's some who don't think muggles are worth the trouble, but I do. And besides, I enjoy my work, and that's really what's important, isn't it?"

"Of course, Arthur, dear," Mrs. Weasley said sincerely.

"And what about you two," Mr. Weasley asked Dan and Emma. "They boys tried to explain what you do, but I don't think they quite got it."

"Oh, we're both dentists," Dan replied.

"And what is a dentist, exactly?"

"We repair people's teeth. You see, when someone's teeth are damaged or rotted, we can't just fix them with a spell…" This led into perhaps the strangest dinner conservation the Grangers had had with a non-dentist. Mr. Weasley looked fascinated as Dan and Emma explained the process of digging out the rotted part of a tooth and filling it in with metal. Fred and George also looked fascinated for what Hermione feared were more sinister reasons. The rest of the Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley especially, turned green at the description.

"That sounds rather painful, though," Mr. Weasley said cluelessly. "Do people have trouble going to the dentist when they need it?"

"Oh, yes. A visit to the dentist can strike fear into the hearts of the strongest men," Dan said, practising his "protective father" look on the boys at the table, who winced. "Unfortunately, that's something of a drain on our business," he added.

"I can imagine," Mrs. Weasley said uneasily, before quickly changing the subject.

After dinner, the Grangers thanked the Weasleys again for hosting and said their goodbyes, and Mr. Weasley carefully led Dan and Emma back through the Floo, soon reporting, to Hermione's relief, that they had made it to London safety.

By then, it was just about time for bed. Hermione followed Ron's painfully shy little sister up to the third landing, where she would be kipping on a camp bed for the week. She was pleased to see that Ginny's room, like her own, was not too pink and girly, though it was more oriented towards Quidditch than academics.

But the moment the door closed, an amazing change came over Ginny. She heaved a huge sigh of what seemed equal parts relief and exasperation, and then she seemed to relax and brighten for the first time all day. "It's really good of you to come stay with us, Hermione," she said quickly. "It'll be nice having another girl around to talk to. There's only Luna here in the village, and she's a little—" She whistled a "cuckoo" sound.

"Um, sure, Ginny," Hermione said. "I'm glad to be here. Um…Are you okay, though? You barely said a word all through dinner, and now…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I just get so nervous around Harry. I've wanted to meet him my whole life, and now he's here, I can't say two words to him," she said frantically. "You're friends with him. Can you tell me what he's like?"

Famous Harry Potter again, she thought. Hermione marvelled at how not shy Ginny was at all when her favourite celebrity wasn't around.

"I guess, but hasn't Ron told you all about him?" she said.

"Ron's a boy. He doesn't notice the important things."

That much she could agree with. "Well, the first thing that comes to mind is…Harry is really impulsive. And stubborn. He took off on a broom after Malfoy when he was told not to, and he'd never even flown before. Then he went traipsing off to a wizard's duel at midnight that same day. He was wandering the castle after hours on Christmas. And I had to stop him charging after a dangerous thief at the end of term."

"But he actually stopped You-Know-Who? Again?" Ginny interrupted excitedly.

"Well, kind of by accident, but yeah—but Professor Dumbledore and I helped."

"That's amazing!" she squeaked.

"Not so amazing if you were there," Hermione countered. "It was really scary."

"Oh…but still, not many people have faced You-Know-Who and lived."

There was an awkward silence. Hermione usually tried not to think about that.

"So…all my brothers say you're really brilliant," Ginny changed the subject.

Hermione blushed. "In Arithmancy, sure," she said. "I mean, Professor Vector's never had anyone test in early before. But—"

"But didn't you get top marks in all the other classes, too?"

"Well, yes—"

"That's really amazing. Bill and Percy did things like that. I hope I can—"

"I'm sure you will, Ginny. It sounds like it runs in the family."

"Thanks, Hermione," she smiled weakly. "Say…Can you…introduce me to your friends we I come to Hogwarts?" she suddenly sounded nervous.

"Sure," Hermione replied. "Of course, you already know Harry and Ron—"

"Thank you," the redhead sighed with relief. She seemed unexpectedly somber as she nearly whispered, "I…don't really have any friends—just my brothers. They're really great—well, some more than others—but it's hard being the only girl in the family."

"You don't have any friends?" Hermione said worriedly. "But what about in the village?"

Ginny shook her head. "There's so few magical children around here, there's hardly anyone my age. And we can't really bring muggles over with all the magic we use here."

"Well, I suppose not. But you must have some friends," Hermione insisted. She couldn't believe someone as outgoing as Ginny could be as lonely as she was all through primary.

"Well, Luna's kind of my friend, but she really is a little nuts."

"She can't be that bad."

"No, I mean it. I'll introduce you if she stops by, but I haven't seen much of her since her mum died."

"Oh—?"

"Yeah, it was really sad. Some kind of accident a couple years ago. She spends most of her time with her dad, now."

"Oh my…Well, don't worry, I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends at Hogwarts."

Ginny brightened at that, and they talked inconsequentially for a while longer. Finally, it was time for bed. Ginny put everything in its place and emptied out her shopping bags, taking care to stow her new wand in a place of honour on her dresser.

"Hey, is this yours, Hermione?" she asked as she went through her supplies. She held up and old, black, leather-bound diary.

"Nope, not mine."

"Huh. Mum must've got it for me." She put the diary back on her stack of books and was soon ready for bed. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Ginny."

A couple days later, the boys decided to go practice Quidditch in a paddock hidden by the trees—except for Percy, that is, who claimed he was busy. Hermione was pretty sure he'd only come out of his room for meals since she'd arrived.

"Hey, Hermione, do you wanna play," Ron asked on the way out.

"No thanks. You know I'm rubbish on a broom."

"I'll play!" Ginny said.

"No," Ron said. "You can't even fly."

"I can too. You just never let me play."

"You've never been on a broom."

"Harry had never been on a broom before, either, and he's a great flier," Hermione observed.

"Yeah, but he's Harry."

"Honestly, Ron. Ginny might as well get a head start. She'll be learning at Hogwarts in a few weeks, anyway."

"So let her learn it there."

"You all learnt to fly before you went to Hogwarts," Ginny said angrily. "Just because you never let me use your brooms—"

"That's not very nice," Hermione chided. "Maybe she's a really great flier."

"Let's just go, guys. We don't need her. She's just a—" Ron started, but he wilted under Hermione's death glare.

"A what, Ron?" she practically growled. "A girl? You asked me to play, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm a girl. And all the Chasers on the Gryffindor team are girls, too."

"And don't we know it," Fred said suggestively. "But, really, Ginny doesn't have any experience, and we've already got four without Percy."

At this, Ginny gave Hermione a pleading look that she must have been practising on her parents and older brothers for years. It proved difficult to resist.

The things I do for my friends, Hermione thought. "Fine, I'll play with you, too. Ginny can't be any worse than I am, so it'll be even."

After that argument, the boys had no recourse but to grudgingly let the girls join them, though Harry, at least, didn't seem to mind. He went to get his Nimbus Two Thousand, and then the rest of the group went to the broom shed, where they retrieved five brooms that looked even more beat up than the old brooms at school. Hermione was liking this idea less by the minute, but she bravely slung Bill's broom over her shoulder and followed the boys out toward the paddock.

Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley came running out the back door. "And just where do you think you're going, young lady?" she called.

"To play Quidditch with the boys and Hermione, Mum," Ginny replied nervously.

"Ginny, you can't fly!" Mrs. Weasley yelled frantically.

Ginny screwed up her courage and gave her mother a disdainful look. Then, without a word, she hopped on her broom and took off. Mrs. Weasley screamed. After three laps around the house that looked to be straining the ancient broom's capabilities, she flew in close, flipped upside down for good measure, and came face to face with her mother, her long hair hanging below her head.

"Bloody hell!" Ron, Fred, and George all said at once. Harry and Hermione didn't speak, but they were both thinking the same thing.

"Ginny…how…?" Mrs. Weasley stammered.

"I guess I'm just a natural flier," she said. She flipped over and landed on her feet.

"Well…well…don't go scaring me like that again!" her mother chided, but she looked too proud to be very angry.

"Yes, Mum."

"Keep a close eye on her, you three," she told her sons.

"Ginny, why didn't you ever tell us you could fly like that?" George said.

"Why didn't you ever let me on a broom?" she replied defiantly.

"That was really great, Ginny," Harry said softly.

It was like someone had flipped a switch. Ginny squeaked once and nearly tripped over her own feet. She found herself unable to speak for the rest of the walk. It was only when they had reached the paddock that she hung back and whispered, "Thanks, Hermione. I've been wanting to do that for years…I'm not really a natural flier. I've been sneaking my brothers' brooms out since I was six."

They had to fly low around the paddock to stay below the trees, which suited Hermione just fine. They also couldn't play with real Quidditch balls, so they just tossed apples to each other, or, in Fred's and George's case, threw them at people when the fluidly shifting positions of the three-on-three game made them Beaters. Hermione regretted coming out here from the moment she was in the air. She could fly without hurting herself, and she really did try, but she was completely outclassed by all of the boys and Ginny. Granted, Ginny was inconsistent. She was a good flier in principle, but she froze up whenever she got close to Harry, which was bad where they were on opposing teams and downright dangerous when Fred and George tried putting them on the same team.

They'd been flying for about any hour, and Hermione was really wishing she could sit out the rest of the afternoon, when her prayers were answered: a tall, handsome boy with a nice, quality broom slung casually across his shoulders came strolling out of the trees.

"Cedric!" Hermione said excitedly and flew down to meet him. The rest of the players followed close behind.

"Hello, Hermione," Cedric said. "You should have told me you'd be in the village."

"Oh, you live around here? I didn't know that." Blame the Weasley boys, she thought.

"Hey, Diggory," Fred said when he landed. "What's going on?"

"I just thought I'd swing by. Your dad mentioned to my dad that you had guests. Do you mind if I join your game?"

"Not at all! You can take my spot," Hermione said quickly.

"Really? You sure, Hermione?"

"Yeah, really. I more of a 'both feet on the ground' type. Oh, have you met Harry, Cedric?" she introduced her friend.

"I haven't had the pleasure, but I've seen you fly," Cedric told Harry, shaking his hand. "You're really good, Potter. Pleased to meet you."

"Thanks. Um, you're Hufflepuff reserve Seeker, right?"

"That's right," Cedric said brightly. "Or I was last year. I probably will be again this year, but I think I've got a good chance at Captain next year. Maybe then I can take you down on a real pitch."

"Uh, sure…Looking forward to it."

"Great. So, what do you reckon? Three on three?" he asked the Weasley boys.

Fred and George got calculating looks on their faces and whispered to each other. "Alright, Diggory," said Fred. "How about you, Ron, and Ginny versus us and Harry," they proposed, sticking him with (it was hard to deny) the two weakest players. But Cedric graciously accepted the arrangement, and the two teams took off while Hermione watched.

Yes, it was definitely more fun on the ground.

Despite Ginny's inconsistency, Cedric was impressed with her flying skills. "You never told me Ginny could fly," he said to the Twins after a while.

"Yeah, uh, we didn't really know," George replied.

"She really pulled one over on us," added Fred.

"Serves you right for never letting me on a broom before," Ginny said. Then, she laughed evilly and buzzed both of their heads at once with her feet.

They ducked, and Fred yelled after her, "Of course, you know that this means war!"

The day before she was to go home, Hermione was sitting out on the back porch, reading up on how to calculate tangents and normals to vector-valued functions. (It was a rather tedious and complex process that would probably be better done with a computer, but that was no good in the magical world.) Percy had finally come out of his room to ask her some questions about basic trigonometry, since he was studying up for sixth-year Arithmancy, and Ginny was de-gnoming the garden.

Tiny grunts of "Geroff me!" filled the air as Ginny tossed gnomes over the hedge. It seemed disturbing to treat a creature that could speak so callously, but despite their large heads and their ability to say "Geroff me!" in context, the one time Hermione had tried to speak to one of the potato-like creatures, it had just muttered at her incoherently and bit her finger, and she was forced to conclude that it had no more brains than a parrot.

They were all so engrossed in what they were doing that it took a while before anyone noticed a girl with long blond hair wandering up the garden path, looking around dreamily, as if she were watching for interesting shapes in the clouds, but once you noticed her, it was hard to look away. She was a dotty-looking little thing, wearing clashing colours and corks on a necklace.

"Hello, Ginny," the girl said in a high, ethereal voice. And then, as if noticing the flying lumps for the first time, "Oh good, you have gnomes!" She bent down to pick one up.

Ginny looked up: "Oh, hello Lu—"

"Ouch!" the gnome bit the girl's finger, and she shook it off.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, very much so," she replied airily. "Gnome saliva is excellent for boosting creativity and musical talent."

Hermione looked to Ginny for an explanation. She didn't remember feeling especially creative or musically inclined after she'd been bitten.

"Hermione, this is the girl I told you about, Luna Lovegood," Ginny explained. "She's starting Hogwarts this year, too. Luna, this is Hermione Granger. She's in Ron's year—except she's already taking fourth-year Arithmancy."

Luna cocked her head to one side. "Hello, Hermione Granger," she said. "I suspected that you might be academically gifted. Your excess hair should ward off wrackspurts quite well."

"P-pleased to meet you, Luna," Hermione stammered. "Um, what are wrackspurts?"

"Tiny creatures that float through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy. But they would get tangled in your bushy hair and learn to stay away from you."

Ginny started giggling.

"I…don't think there is such a thing," Hermione said slowly.

"Just because you're never seen one," Luna said indignantly.

"So what are you doing here, Luna?" Ginny asked before Hermione could make a scene.

"I was following a blibbering humdinger, and it led me here," Luna said dreamily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Hermione stared at Ginny again. Ginny twirled her finger around her temple when Luna wasn't looking. Hermione didn't think that was very nice of her, but it was hard to disagree with that assessment. Luna wandered around the garden for the rest of the morning, and Hermione didn't think she even once said something that fully made sense. Still, she seemed like a nice enough girl. She was probably just more isolated than Ginny was. Hopefully, for her sake, some normal social interaction would tone her down.

The next day, Hermione packed her things to go home for the last five days of the summer.

"It's been wonderful having you over, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "I know Ginny really enjoyed it. You'll have to come again next summer."

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley. I'd love to come back sometime." Truthfully, Hermione had liked having Ginny around, too. Despite the Quidditch obsession and the even stronger Harry obsession, they seemed more alike than most of the girls she knew—although she wasn't sure what Ginny was getting up to with that diary of hers the past couple of days.

"Yeah, um, thanks for coming," Ron said awkwardly.

"Yeah…and thanks again for telling McGonagall to get me away from the Dursleys," Harry added.

"I'm glad I could," Hermione replied. "You know I'll help you if I can, right?"

"And me too, mate," Ron chipped in.

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad I have friends like you two," Harry said simply.

In the corner, no one noticed Ginny looking on longingly.

"Alright, all ready to go, Hermione?" Mr. Weasley said as he stood by the fireplace.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. I'll see you all on Tuesday."

"See ya." The boys waved back.

And with that, Mr. Weasley escorted her back to Diagon Alley to meet her parents. Despite the mess at the end of last term, this was quite possibly the best summer she'd ever had.