Thank you for following, favoriting, and all the lovely reviews so far! Special shout out to 1seddiefan for reviewing on multiple fics in this series. To the Guest who left spam here, if you are a Bot, I guess you have no control over such things. If you are a human person-why?!

Chapter 2: Of Waiting and Weasleys

Harry and Chrys spent the rest of the day and most of the next packing and cleaning. Chrys threw away the pile of broken quills she'd found under her bed. Harry wiped down the space under the loose floorboard so that the crumbs didn't attract mice while they were gone.

They finished just before lunch.

"I hope you told them to dress properly, these people," Uncle Vernon said, glancing in the mirror and adjusting his most expensive tie. "I've seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. They'd better have the decency to put on normal clothes, that's all."

Harry and Chrys shared a nervous look. The younger Weasleys sometimes wore Muggle clothing when school robes weren't required, but Chrys had never seen Mr. or Mrs. Weasley wear anything other than wizarding robes.

They sat down at the table as Aunt Petunia put out plates of cottage cheese and celery. No one complained. Dudley ate his food quietly. The last time he had met a wizard, Hagrid had given him a pig's tail. When he stood up, Dudley walked with his back to the wall and both of his hands clenched over his bottom. Chrys and Harry had to look away from each other before they burst into laughter.

Aunt Petunia followed her son into the living room, shooting daggers at the twins on her way out. Out of habit, Chrys picked up their plates and put them in the sink.

"Well, I'll just—"

"They'll be driving, of course?" Uncle Vernon said suddenly. Chrys froze.

"Er…" Harry said. Two years ago, Mr. Weasley's flying car had become sentient and went off to live somewhere in the Forbidden Forest near their school. "I think so."

Uncle Vernon snorted.

"I mean, Mr. Weasley borrowed cars from work to get us to the station last year," Harry recalled as they went back upstairs to wait.

"Yeah, but that was only because the Ministry thought Sirius was trying to kill us," Chrys pointed out. Despite still thinking Sirius was a mass murderer on the loose, Minister of Magic Fudge had actually lessened security since Sirius' most recent escape at the end of last term. Chrys thought maybe Fudge didn't want to draw too much attention to how badly he'd handled things.

"…Right."

They came back downstairs at a quarter to five. Chrys sat on the bottom step and watched the front door… At ten minutes past five, Uncle Vernon came out of the living room.

He opened the front door, looked around, and then shut it again.

"They're late!" He barked.

"I know," Harry said. "Maybe… er… traffic's bad or something." Chrys frowned.

At a half past five, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon started complaining about how rude the Weasleys were in hushed voices.

Harry jumped up as Uncle Vernon suddenly shouted out. Dudley came running out of the living room, holding his bottom tightly.

"What happened?" Harry asked him.

"What's the matter?" Chrys asked.

Dudley ran into the kitchen without answering. Harry and Chrys went for the living room.

Noises were coming from the fireplace, which had been boarded up after a certain incident with letters… "What is it?" Aunt Petunia gasped, backing up against the wall. "What is it, Vernon?"

"Ouch!" Mr. Weasley's voice came from inside the fireplace. "Fred, no—go back, there's been some kind of mistake—tell George not to—ouch! George, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron—"

Chrys laughed. She couldn't help it. The fireplace quieted for a moment as the Dursleys turned to glare suspiciously at her. And then…

"Chrys?" Fred called out. "Dad, maybe they can hear us!" The boards shook and thudded.

"What is this?" Uncle Vernon roared at Chrys. "What's going on, girl?"

"They—they've tried to get here by Floo powder," Harry explained, trying not to laugh. "They can travel by fire, only, you've blocked the fireplace. Hang on." He moved closer to the fireplace. "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?" The hammering stopped. Someone shushed the others. "Mr. Weasley, it's Harry—the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."

"Damn!" Mr. Weasley said. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"It's a long story," Chrys said, trying not to laugh again.

"Well, they don't need it, anyway, they've got an electric fire," Harry added.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley said excitedly. "Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that… let's think… ouch, Ron!"

"What are we doing here?" Ron asked. "Has something gone wrong?"

"Oh no, Ron," Fred said sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."

Chrys smiled slightly.

"Yeah, we're having the times of our lives here," George said, his voice muffled like his face was squashed against the wall.

"Boys, boys," Mr. Weasley said distractedly. "I'm trying to think of what to do…"

"Mr. Weasley, do you need some help?" Chrys asked. "I can find a hammer or something…"

Uncle Vernon frowned. "Now wait just a minute—"

"No thank you, Chrys," Mr. Weasley said. "I think I'll have to… yes… that's the only way. Stand back, you two."

Harry and Chrys moved to the other side of the room where Aunt Petunia stood, but Uncle Vernon stepped forward.

"Now wait a moment!" He shouted. "What exactly are you going to—"

The fireplace exploded.

The electric fire shot across the room and embedded itself in the wall. The Weasleys stepped over the splintered wood, waving clouds of dust out of their faces. Aunt Petunia fainted. Chrys, who was closest, caught her awkwardly.

"That's better," Mr. Weasley said, brushing dust off of his robes and straightening his glasses. He spotted the Dursleys. "Ah, you must be Chrys and Harry's aunt and uncle!" He moved forward to shake Uncle Vernon's hand. Uncle Vernon ripped his wife away from Chrys and dragged her away from the wizards, gaping at the empty hole where his fireplace had been. Mr. Weasley turned and looked at it. "Er—yes—sorry about that. It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see—just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Chrys and Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't meant to be connected, strictly speaking, but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel, and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though—don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the children back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."

Aunt Petunia woke and stood wobbly. She spotted Mr. Weasley and shrieked, hiding behind her bulky husband.

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Hello!" Chrys said. "It's great to see all of you!" She gave Ron a hug, which he returned with one arm.

"Hello, Chrys!" Mr. Weasley replied brightly. "Harry!" He clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. "Got your trunks ready?"

"Upstairs," Harry said, grinning back.

"I'll get them," Chrys said, catching Harry's eye. He nodded slightly, clearly agreeing that the Weasleys and the Dursleys probably shouldn't be left alone together.

"We'll help," Fred said, looping his arm with hers and heading for the door. George took her other arm. She frowned suspiciously at them as they got into the hallway.

"What are you up to?" She asked. Fred and George blinked identically at her.

"What do you mean?" George said innocently. Fred glanced around the hall, eyes pausing on a wall of Dudley's baby pictures. Chrys smiled suddenly.

"Oh. That's what you're up to. You were hoping to see Dudley…" She untangled herself from them and started up the stairs. They followed.

"All right, you caught us," George said, opening the door to her bedroom. It was impressive that he remembered where it was, Chrys thought. After all, he'd only been here once, in the dead of night, two years ago. "After everything Harry's told us about him, we were curious…" Chrys frowned. She wondered exactly how much Harry had said about Dudley. The bullying wasn't something Harry was usually comfortable talking about.

Fred looked at the window.

"The bars are still gone, I see." He nodded approvingly. Two years ago, Chrys and Harry had been locked in their room with bars on the window, and a cat flap on the door for food. Ron, Fred, and George had broken them out.

"Yeah…" Chrys said, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"This it, then?" George said, picking up Harry's trunk. Chrys nodded.

Fred picked up her trunk.

"Oh, you don't have to—" She reached to take it from him. "I can carry my own stuff."

Fred shook his head. "I said we'd help."

Chrys frowned. "I don't need—"

"We should probably get going," George said. "Dad'll be wondering what's keeping us."

"Fine." She let out a breath and grabbed Hedwig's cage.

When they got back into the living room, Dudley was attempting to hide behind his parents. Of course, Dudley's body was wider than both of them put together. Fred and George spotted him and grinned.

Dudley whimpered and clutched his bottom.

Mr. Weasley looked at him, concerned.

"He'll be all right," Chrys told him. "He's just scared of magic, and sad cause he's on a diet."

Fred and George glanced at each other, looking rather like cartoon characters with light bulbs going off over their heads.

"Ah." Mr. Weasley looked away from Dudley. "Right. Better get cracking, then." He pulled his wand out of his sleeve. The Dursleys backed up. Mr. Weasley pointed his wand at what was left of the fireplace. "Incendio!" A fire burst to life. Mr. Weasley took out a drawstring bag and pinched something out with his fingers. He threw the pinch into the fire—the flames turned green and rose higher.

"Never gets old," Chrys thought, having only seen Floo powder used once before.

Harry nodded. Mr. Weasley smiled slightly. "Off you go then, Fred."

"Coming." Brightly colored toffees fell out of his pocket, scattering everywhere. "Oh no—hang on—" Fred put down Chrys' trunk and ran around picking up the sweets. He shoved them back in his pocket and grabbed the trunk again. Then he waved at the Dursleys and stepped into the fire. Aunt Petunia gasped. "The Burrow!"

Fred disappeared. "Right then," Mr. Weasley said. "George next."

Harry helped George turn the trunk so it was easier to hold.

"The Burrow!" George repeated, vanishing into the flames.

"Ron, you next," Mr. Weasley continued.

"See you," Ron said cheerfully, grinning at the Potters before he left.

"Well…" Harry glanced over the Dursleys, still cowering in the corner. "Bye then."

Chrys turned to Harry. "We'd better go together—don't want you to get lost again."

Harry groaned. "That was one time!"

"Yeah, and this is only the second time we're using the Floo," Chrys pointed out.

"Chrys, you don't have to baby me," Harry complained, stepping up to the hearth.

Mr. Weasley put a hand on his shoulder. He was staring at the Dursleys with an odd expression on his face.

"Your nephew said goodbye to you," he said. "Didn't you hear him?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry told him quietly. "Honestly, I don't care."

"You aren't going to see him till next summer," Mr. Weasley said to Uncle Vernon. "Surely you're going to say goodbye." Uncle Vernon clenched his jaw.

His eyes flickered to the wand in Mr. Weasley's hand.

"Goodbye, then," he grunted.

"See you." Harry stepped into the fire and vanished. Chrys was about to follow him when someone started gagging.

Aunt Petunia screamed.

Chrys turned and saw Dudley leaning on the coffee table, choking on something purple and slimy protruding from his mouth. Chrys dropped Hedwig's cage. Then she saw the brightly colored wrapper on the floor in front of him.

Mr. Weasley spotted it as well.

"Ah," he said shortly.

Aunt Petunia hurled herself at her son, pulling at the purple thing—which Chrys now realized was his grossly engorged tongue. Dudley spluttered harder and tried to push her away. Uncle Vernon shouted unintelligibly and waved his arms around.

Chrys turned to Mr. Weasley. "Er…?"

"Not to worry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over the commotion. "I can sort him out!" He moved towards them with his wand up. Aunt Petunia screamed and attempted to shield Dudley with her body. "No, really! It's a simple process—it was the toffee—my son Fred—real practical joker—but it's only an Engorgement Charm—at least, I think it is—please, I can correct it—"

Aunt Petunia was crying now, still pulling at Dudley's tongue. Uncle Vernon picked a china figure up off the sideboard and chucked it at Mr. Weasley.

"Hey!" Chrys shouted as Mr. Weasley ducked.

"Now really!" Mr. Weasley said, becoming angry. "I'm trying to help!"

Uncle Vernon started throwing more china figurines. Mr. Weasley stepped in front of Chrys and blocked one with a wave of his wand. "Chrys, go! Just go!"

"But—" Chrys started, staring at Dudley.

"Go! I'll sort this out." Mr. Weasley basically pushed her into the fireplace.

Chrys only just remembered to shout, "The Burrow!" as the warm flames surrounded her.