HI! Please don't hate me! So sorry for the late update. My grandfather had a stroke a few weeks ago and it's been incredibly stressful going back and forth to the hospital each day. Luckily, he is home and everyone is doing much better. I hope you all had a great Passover/Easter and are enjoying some of the nicer weather outside! (I definitely am) Here's chapter two for you all, and in exchange for being late on updating, this chapter is nice and longgggg. Let me know what you all think and leave a review! I love hearing from you guys. Thank you to every one who has Favourited, Followed, and Reviewed this story :)
I do not own the Harry Potter series and all characters are the property of JK Rowling with the exception of my own OCs
Chapter 2
Triss and Ron schemed up with a magnificent plan to break Harry out of the muggles' home. The only problem was Ron wasn't exactly the best driver, so they needed to employ some true mischief-makers to help them on their endeavor.
Triss and Ron sped up to the twins' room where Fred, George, and Finn were currently concocting, merlin-knows-what.
"Hey! Stay out runt," Finn said getting up, while Fred and George tried miserably to cover up a mysterious looking potion that was emitting an odd, orange smoke from the desk by the window.
"We don't care whatever it is you three tossers are working on," Triss said while Ron shut the door behind him. Triss sat on one of the twins' beds and her face became serious. She took a deep breath and muttered, "I can't believe I'm about to say this but…. Ron and I need your help."
The twins and Finn gave each other mischievous glances.
"We're listening," the twins said simultaneously.
So Ron and Triss told them about their plan to rescue to rescue Harry with Mr. Weasley's flying car. The boys were more than happy to volunteer their services if it meant taking the off-limits car out for a little joyride.
"Ok so we'll all meet by the car at midnight after our parents have all gone to sleep," Ron said.
"Agreed. Our dad will be fast asleep after a big meal like this one," Triss said with a grin. Finn flashed her a smile. Their dad was one of the heaviest sleepers they knew (Triss was a close second), especially after eating Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking.
"Alright then team. See you then," Fred said with a mock salute.
Triss and Finn made their way back downstairs to see their dad saying goodbye to the Weasleys with an impressive yawn.
They made their way back to their house and soon, Triss found herself lying awake in bed, counting down the minutes until they could make their escape. Triss could feel the nerves in her body, and she couldn't help but feel a bit excited at sneaking out in a flying car and seeing one of her best friends again. She missed Harry over the summer and couldn't wait to show him the Burrow and her House on the Hill. Triss glanced over at the clock on her bedside table that was illuminated by moonlight and saw that it was five minutes to midnight. She jumped out of bed and zipped up her olive-green jumper and carefully tiptoed to Finnick's room. Triss lightly knocked his door and it opened up to reveal her brother who seemed equally excited at the prospect of breaking the rules. They carefully made their way past their dad's room, his snores filling the silence like the trumpet of an orchestra.
The Selwyn siblings raced outside, mounted their brooms, and raced across the field that separated their house and the Weasley's. They landed in front of Mr. Weasley's shed and carefully hid their broomsticks in the bushes.
"Where are they? We did say midnight, didn't we?" Triss asked impatiently, wondering where Ron and the twins were.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, there they come now," Finn said gesturing to the house. They could see three familiar heads of red hair carefully closing the door behind them.
"Took you three idiots long enough. Come on we have a fair amount of flying to do," Triss said entering the shed.
"With the way she goes on, it's like she's the one who'll be driving us," Fred whispered aloud.
"Please you all know how she loves to be in charge," Finn said with a smirk.
"I do not love to be in charge Finnick—" Triss leaning in close. "But with you dunderheads, someone has to make sure you can actually think straight."
Triss flicked the back of his head for good measure, and together the motley crew got themselves comfortable in the blue Ford Angela which took off into the night sky.
Triss made herself comfortable in the back seat next to Ron and watched out the window as the trees and roads of England passed them by. They didn't say much on the trip down, Ron being half asleep against the window and Triss could feel her own eyes dozing as they journeyed on. All too soon, they could feel the car beginning to dip down as they reached Surrey.
"What's the house number again?" George asked.
"Four. Number 4 Privet Drive," Triss answered, sitting up straight.
They passed by a litany of homes that all looked the same, with their perfectly manicured lawns and trimmed hedges.
"There it! Number 4," Finn said pointing to a home.
"Which window do you reckon is Harry's?" One of the twins asked.
"I'm going to assume it's the one with the bars on the window," Triss said pointing to a dark window that had a set of bars across it, like a muggle jail cell.
"Sounds about right," Ron said with a look at disbelief that his relatives would lock him in like a prisoner.
"Fred, try to get as close as you can," Triss said opening the door. She leaned out and grabbed ahold of the bars that were keeping him locked up. Ron slid over and put a hand on her shoulder, making sure she didn't fall. Triss peered through the window and could make out a head of black hair fast asleep in his bed. Triss couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief at seeing him. She started rattling the bars hoping to wake him up.
"Oh come on Harry! Wake up!" she said with a rather loud rattle.
HPOV
Harry opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a pale, blonde-haired, blue-eyed someone.
Triss Selwyn was outside Harry's window.
"Triss!" breathed Harry, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. He could see another familiar face leaning just over her shoulder. "Triss! Ron! How did you both— What the — ?"
Harry's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Triss and Ron were leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in midair. Grinning at Harry from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers and Finnick Selwyn, Triss's brother.
"All right, Harry?" asked George.
"Evening Potter!" Finn yelled out with a mock-cockney accent.
"Oh Harry! Thank goodness you're ok." Triss said with a smile. Then her face took on a glare and she reached through the bars and thumped his head.
"Where have you been? Do you know how worried I've been? An entire summer with not one lett—"
Ron reached around and put his hand over her mouth to shush her. "Keep your pants on woman! Harry what's been going on?" said Ron. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles —"
"It wasn't me — and how did he know?"
"He works for the Ministry," said Ron. Triss shoved Ron's hand off her mouth.
"You know we're not supposed to do spells outside school —" she said.
"You should talk," said Harry, staring at the floating car.
"Oh, this doesn't count," said Ron. "We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with —"
"I told you, I didn't — but it'll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'll think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so —"
"Stop gibbering," said Triss said with a mad grin. "We've come to take you home with us."
"But you can't magic me out either —"
"We don't need to," said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. "You forget who I've got with me."
"You see Harry, we're something that you would call Rule-Breakers," Finn said tossing him a rope.
"Tie that around the bars," said Fred.
"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.
"Don't worry," said Fred, "and stand back."
Harry moved back into the shadows next to Hedwig, who seemed to have realized how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air. Harry ran back to the window to see the bars dangling a few feet above the ground. Panting, Triss and Ron hoisted them up into the car. Harry listened anxiously, but there was no sound from the Dursleys' bedroom.
When the bars were safely in the back seat with Triss and Ron, Fred reversed as close as possible to Harry's window.
"Get in," Ron said.
"But all my Hogwarts stuff — my wand — my broomstick —"
"Where is it?" Triss asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room —"
"No problem," said George from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, Harry."
"Just like being back at Hogwarts 'innit?" Finn said to the twins.
"Breaking out of detention —" Fred said climbing out of the car.
"— Sneaking into the kitchens," George finished, climbing behind them.
"You three can reminisce later," Triss said giving Finn's bottom a good shove.
Finn, Fred, and George climbed catlike through the window into Harry's room. You had to hand it to them, thought Harry, as Finnick took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock.
"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," said Fred, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow."
"I learned this back when I was 12 after my dad locked up my potions kit. Took me ages to convince him I didn't use magic," Finn said while picking the lock.
"So that's how you did it!" Triss said with her mouth agape.
"We thought you convinced Bill do it when he was home," Ron said with a laugh.
"Me ask for Bill's help? Never," Finn scoffed.
There was a small click and the door swung open.
Finn turned to Triss and muttered, "You tell dad I know how to do this and you're dead." He threw in a glare for good measure.
Triss only gaped with a smile. "Teach me how to do it and it's a deal." The blonde siblings each spat in their hands and shook on it.
"So — we'll get your trunk — you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron and Triss," whispered George.
"Watch out for the bottom stair — it creaks," Harry whispered back as the twins and Finn disappeared onto the dark landing.
Harry dashed around his room, collecting his things and passing them out of the window to Triss's outstretched arms. Then he went to help Fred and George heave his trunk up the stairs. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.
"Where's Finn?" Harry asked looking around for the blonde in the darkness.
"Oh, he's just making sure you got everything," George said, but Harry didn't miss the wink he sent Fred's way.
At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through Harry's room to the open window. Fred climbed back into the car to pull with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Triss kept a lookout to make sure his aunt and uncle didn't wake up. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window. Soon a panting Finn entered his room and helped give them a hand.
"Where were you?" Harry asked.
"Oh I just left a little surprise for your relatives in their tea kettle. They do like having boils on their skin in the morning, don't they?" Finn said casually.
Harry beamed with happiness.
Uncle Vernon coughed again.
"A bit more," panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. "One good push —"
Harry, Finn, and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.
"Okay, let's go," George whispered.
But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.
"THAT RUDDY OWL!"
"I've forgotten Hedwig!"
Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on — he snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Triss. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door — and it crashed open.
For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.
Triss, Ron, Fred, George, and Finn seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.
"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"
But the Selwyns and Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp — Harry was in the car — he'd slammed the door shut —
"Put your foot down, Fred!" yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.
Harry couldn't believe it — he was free. He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.
"See you next summer!" Harry yelled.
The Selwyns and Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.
"Let Hedwig out," he told Triss who was wiping tears from her eyes from laughing. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."
"You poor thing," Triss said gently petting Hedwig's head. Hedwig nuzzled in her hand and hooted with affection.
Finnick reached behind with his hairpin and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.
Triss suddenly reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug.
"I missed you Potter."
"Missed you too Triss," Harry said returning the hug. He breathed in deeply, the scent of vanilla and something floral filling his nose, and finally felt at peace for the first time in months.
Triss let go and then flicked his forehead.
"Ow! What was that for?" he asked rubbing his head.
"That's for not writing me this summer," she said tossing her blonde curls over her head and crossing her arms.
"But it wasn't my fault," Harry said
"So — what happened then? What's the story, Harry?" said Ron impatiently.
Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished.
"Very fishy," said Fred finally.
"Definitely dodgy," agreed George.
"So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?" Finn asked.
"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."
He saw Finn, Fred, and George look at each other.
"What, you think he was lying to me?" said Harry.
"Well," said Fred, "put it this way — house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission."
"We had a house elf when we were kids. Dad inherited her after his parents died," Triss said.
"Oh yeah I remember you talking about her. What was her name again? Daisy?" Harry said.
"Dottie," Finn corrected. "She was the greatest. We would've been dead if it wasn't for her, and my dad always treated her right, but not every wizarding family does with house elves. Above everything though, house elves must always follow their wizarding families' orders."
"I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?" Fred said.
"Yes," said Harry, Triss, and Ron together, instantly.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "He hates me."
"More like he hates anything and everything," Triss said crossing her arms.
"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"
"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry. "Why?"
"I've heard Dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."
"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, craning around to look at Harry, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung — Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."
"I remember we ran into him once at Diagon Ally — Triss you weren't with us — and I've never seen dad react that way to any one before. He didn't just not like him, he hated him. I'll never forget what dad said. He said, 'Lucius is as loyal to You-Know-Who now as he was then'," Finn said with a dark look. Harry only nodded his head in understanding.
Harry had heard these rumors about Malfoy's family before, and they didn't surprise him at all. Malfoy made Dudley Dursley look like a kind, thoughtful, and sensitive boy.
"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf. . . ." said Harry.
"Well, whoever owns him will be an old Wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.
"House-elves aren't cheap and knowing how Malfoy is, I would place a hefty wager on his family owning one," Triss said.
"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house. . . ."
"We were so jealous that you guys had a house elf when we first met you," Ron said to Triss and Finn.
"We got lucky with Dottie. It was better that she went to my dad who truly cared about her, then well — some other members of the family…." Triss said trailing off. She suddenly had a far-away look on her face. Harry knew who she was insinuating, her uncle Felix. He murdered her mother, so who knows how badly he would've mistreated that poor elf.
Harry was silent. Judging by the fact that Draco Malfoy usually had the best of everything, his family was rolling in wizard gold; he could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family servant to stop Harry from going back to Hogwarts also sounded exactly like the sort of thing Malfoy would do. Had Harry been stupid to take Dobby seriously?
"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," said Ron. "I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first —"
"Who's Errol?"
"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes —"
"Who?"
"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred from the front.
"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him. So then I tried to borrow Triss's owl Gawain —"
"But I told him I hadn't gotten any letters from you either," said Triss.
"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said Finnick, frowning. "He's not nearly as annoying as he usually is."
"And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room. . . ." said George. "I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge. . . . You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.
"So, does your dad know you've got the car?" said Harry, guessing the answer.
"Er, no," said Ron, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."
"What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?"
"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
"It is not boring! I think it's actually pretty interesting," Triss said.
"You listen to him go on for hours about muggle inventions then," Ron retorted. Triss went silent at that and gave a sheepish look.
"The what?" said Harry.
"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare — Dad was working overtime for weeks."
"What happened?"
"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic — it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office — and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up —"
"But your dad — this car —"
Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."
"He'll even try to hide some muggle stuff at our place when Mrs. Weasley thinks the shed is getting too full of junk," Triss said with a giggle. Harry laughed at that. He could imagine Mr. Weasley sneaking along with Mr. Selwyn, with an armful of radios, telephones and kettles.
"So I'm assuming your dad doesn't know you two are here either?" Harry asked Triss and Finnick.
Finnick barked out a laugh. "Are you kidding?! His head would explode if he caught us."
"He would give us the lecture of the century about 'how could a respected Auror, who must uphold the law, have his children flying in an illegal car all the way to surrey!'" Triss said with a funny impersonation of her dad. That got a laugh from everyone in the car.
"Is your dad strict?" Harry asked.
"He tries to be but deep down he's just a big softy," Triss said with a smile. "Although he wasn't afraid to be strict this summer. Remember the how McGonagall wrote my dad after the whole Norbert incident?" Harry nodded his head yes.
"Well, my dad really wanted to drive home the punishment, so he made me do a list of chores every morning and took away my broomstick. I just got it back yesterday,"
"You're lucky you didn't get any letters from her Harry," Ron said. "She wouldn't shut up about it all summer." That earned a light punch from Triss.
"That's the main road," said George, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes. . . . Just as well, it's getting light. . . ."
A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east. Triss let out a loud yawn in response.
Fred brought the car lower, and Harry saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.
"We're a little way outside the village," said George. "Ottery St. Catchpole."
Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.
"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground.
"Excellent driving boys," Triss said while ruffling Fred's hair.
They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.
It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.
"It's not much," said Ron.
"It's wonderful," said Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.
They got out of the car.
"That's our house over there," Triss said pointing to a small home in the distance.
"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car."
"Good luck, we're going to sneak back into our place," Finnick said, while him and Triss fished out two broomsticks that were hidden behind some shrubs.
"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the — at the top —"
Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other five wheeled around.
Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.
"Ah," said Fred.
"Oh, dear," said George.
"Good luck gents," Finnick said while him and Triss quickly tried to mount their brooms and escape Mrs. Weasley's wrath.
Unfortunate Finnick spoke too soon because their dad emerged from the Weasley home in a navy dressing gown with an angry look on his face.
Mr. Selwyn and Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips and his arms crossed, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.
"So," she said.
"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.
"Father dearest," Triss said with a terrified look on her face. Mr. Selwyn's face began turning a horrid shade of red.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper at the same time Mr. Selwyn muttered out, "Where have you two been?"
"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —"
"Dad, we had to go out and rescue —"
All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, and Finnick towered over Mr. Selwyn, but they cowered as Mrs. Weasley's rage broke over them.
"Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I've lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —"
"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.
"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job or Mathalus's job—"
Mr. Selwyn on the other hand didn't say a single word, just stared at Triss and Finnick with a murderous expression that would've made the worst criminal wet themselves with fear. In the few times Harry had met Mr. Selwyn, he always had a jovial smile planted on his kind face but now…. it was twisting up with each word Mrs. Weasley shouted out.
It seemed to go on for hours and Harry didn't know who was worse. Mrs. Weasley's pure rage or Mr. Selwyn's deadly calm. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before turning on Harry, who backed away.
"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said. "Come in and have some breakfast."
She turned and walked back into the house and Harry, after a nervous glance at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her. Triss and Finn looked like they were about to join but Mr. Selwyn stopped them.
"Oh no, no, no. Not you two," he said while putting his hands on each of their shoulders. Triss's face took on a pained expression and even Finnick looked a bit sheepish. Harry gave her an apologetic and grateful look, and she attempted to send a smile back that looked more like a grimace.
The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and Harry sat down on the edge of his seat, looking around. He had never been in a wizard house before.
The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like Time to make tea, Time to feed the chickens, and You're late. Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts — It's Magic! And unless Harry's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck."
They all jumped when they suddenly heard the explosive shouts of Mr. Selwyn from outside. Harry could only make out a few words like, "Sneaking out— of the night?! What in the world —could have been seen! — Auror to have two thick-headed children — illegal car?!"
"A moment of silence for our dear, departed friends," George whispered to him and Ron.
Mrs. Weasley on the other hand was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."
"I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. "Arthur, Math' and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really" (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), "flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —"
She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.
"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.
"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.
"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.
"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.
At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.
"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.
Soon Triss and Finnick made their way into the kitchen, both looking as though someone had told them a family pet had died.
"How bad was it?" Ron asked with a mouthful of sausage.
"Brutal," Triss muttered, looking like she had aged thirty years.
"I don't think I'll ever be cheerful again…" Finnick mumbled out, putting a piece of toast in his mouth with a traumatic expression on his face.
"Did he take away your broom again Triss?" George asked.
"Thank merlin, no. But Finnick and I are stuck doing extra chores at our house and here for the rest of the summer." Triss said helping herself to some eggs.
Mr. Selwyn walked in, clapping his hands as if he had just finished up a long workday.
Triss and Finnick flinched with fear.
Mr. Selwyn walked over to Harry and clapped him on the back. His angry face finally seemed to calm down into a tired smile which was a welcome change.
"Harry m'boy it's good to see you. Glad to have you here for the summer," he said sitting down to a cup of tea Mrs. Weasley made for him. He thanked her gratefully. He looked down at his watch and nearly choked on his tea.
"Merlin's beard is that the time? I'm going to be late if I don't get a move on," he quickly stood up and muttered a spell that quickly changed his clothes. "Harry I'm off to work, but if there's anything you need you just let one of us know," he said gesturing to Mrs. Weasley.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said gratefully.
Mr. Selwyn paused for a moment and just stared at him, seemly lost in thought. He broke out of it and said, "Good lad," with a strangely sad look on his face
He turned to Triss and Finnick who froze with fear at being yelled at again. "And you two — no more late-night excursions." Triss and Finnick nodded their heads and then Mr. Selwyn left for work.
"Blimey, I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and —"
"You will not," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again —
"Oh, Mum —"
"And you four," she said, glaring at Ron, George, Finnick and Triss. Finnick let out an audible groan. "You can go up to bed, dear," she added to Harry. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car —"
But Harry, who felt wide awake, said quickly, "I'll help. I've never seen a de-gnoming —"
"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject —"
And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.
"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden —"
Harry looked at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests. There was a big photograph on the front of a very good-looking wizard with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. As always in the Wizarding world, the photograph was moving; the wizard, who Harry supposed was Gilderoy Lockhart, kept winking cheekily up at them all. Mrs. Weasley beamed down at him.
"Oh, he is marvelous," she said. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book. . . ."
"Mum fancies him," said Fred, in a very audible whisper.
"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."
Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys and Selwyns slouched outside with Harry behind them. The garden was large, and in Harry's eyes, exactly what a garden should be. The Dursleys wouldn't have liked it — there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting — but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.
"Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know," Harry told Ron and Triss, as they crossed the lawn.
"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush.
"Are they the things that look like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods?" Triss asked with a laugh.
There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up. "This is a gnome," he said grimly.
"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" squealed the gnome.
It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head exactly like a potato. Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.
"This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Triss added, "It doesn't hurt them — you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnomeholes."
He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.
"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."
Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off — until —
"Wow, Harry — that must've been fifty feet. . . ."
The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.
"I find de-gnoming to be a bit — " Triss let out a grunt and sent a gnome flying across the field about forty-something feet. "—Therapeutic," she finished with a smile. Harry sent her one back in return and snatched up a gnome that was trying to get away.
"See, they're not too bright," said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."
"Argh! Little pest!" Finnick cried out after one bit his ankle. He gave it a kick for good measure. "I hate gnomes," he said wiping sweat from his brow.
Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.
"They'll be back," said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here. . . . Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny. . . ."
"Not our dad. He hates them as much as Finn does. Even put up a sign and everything in the front yard," Triss said.
Just then, the front door slammed.
"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"
They hurried through the garden and back into the house.
Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.
"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned. . . ."
Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed. "Morning Triss, Finnick. I passed your dad on his way in the ministry. Did you three get into it or something? He looked a bit fired up about something." Triss and Finn gave each other a guilty look and shrugged their shoulders.
"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.
"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness. . . ."
"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" said George.
"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. . . . Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking — they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. . . . But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe —"
"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"
Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.
"Oh this is going to be good," Triss whispered in Harry's ear.
"C-cars, Molly, dear?"
"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."
Mr. Weasley blinked.
"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if — er — he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. . . . There's a loophole in the law, you'll find. . . . As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't —"
"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"
"Harry?" said Mr. Weasley blankly. "Harry who?"
He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.
"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron and Triss have told us so much about —"
"Your sons, Triss, and Finnick flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"
"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Did it go all right? I — I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that — that was very wrong, boys — and girl — very wrong indeed. . . ."
"Let's leave them to it," Ron muttered to Harry and Triss as Mrs. Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. "Come on, I'll show you my bedroom."
"It's refreshing when she's yelling at someone who isn't us 'innit?" Triss said with a smile.
"You said it sis," Finnick said as him, Fred, and George raced up to the twins' room.
They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.
"Ginny," said Ron. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally —"
"Oh be quiet Ronald. She's just nervous around Harry is all," she said giving Ron a pointed look.
They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying RONALD'S ROOM.
Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: Nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically.
"Subtle, isn't it?" Triss said with a laugh.
"Your Quidditch team?" said Harry.
"The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C's and a speeding cannonball. "Ninth in the league."
"Might as well be last," Triss said under a fake cough. Ron threw a pillow back at her in response.
"Hey! I can't help it if you chose to love a team that's absolute rubbish! Besides my team, the all-female Holyhead Harpies, absolutely destroyed the Cannons in the last match," Triss said matter-of-factly.
"They won on a technicality!"
"Yeah, the technicality of being better!" Triss said back.
Harry only rolled his eyes with a smile as the pair bickered and looked around the rest of the room. Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that all seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.
Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasleys' hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who had stopped bickering with Triss and was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.
"It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning. . . ."
But Harry, grinning widely, said, "This is the best house I've ever been in."
Ron's ears went pink.
"Well, you can't say that until you've seen my house! Before you two fall asleep, I'll give you a tour of our place," Triss grabbing his hand and dragging him downstairs.
The trio raced outside, and grabbed their broomsticks, and flew the short distance to Triss's house.
"Don't you worry about muggles seeing you fly?" Harry called over to Triss.
"Nah, the closest muggle house is too far and there's plenty of trees that block the road," Triss called back. Harry realized that, besides the night with the Sorcerer's stone in first year, this was his first time seeing Triss on a broomstick. She was always all talk, but he finally understood what she was talking about. She was a fab flyer! She zigzagged all around him and Ron, whooping with glee as she did somersaults in the air.
Triss looked the way Harry felt when he rode a broomstick. Perfectly care-free and just…. happy.
They rode up a small hill and there at the top, they landed in front of a modest country house that had a small sign above the white front door that read "THE HOUSE ON THE HILL". While the Burrow was tall and crooked, Triss's house was a simple red-brick country house, with twin fireplaces on either side, and Harry spotted a small sign in the front garden that read: No Gnomes!
"Well it's not as interesting as Ron's place but it's home," Triss said with the shrug of her shoulders.
She opened the front door and led the way. Harry remembered Triss saying that her dad came from a very old and very wealthy wizarding family. Walking around their house, you would've thought the opposite. Triss's house was quite cozy and simple, but you could still spot remnants of old wealth in different knick-knacks that Triss's father must've kept when he moved his family here. Harry spotted a coat of arms that bore an intricate S above the fireplace; goblin-made china with the Selwyn crest in a cabinet in their dining room; a few portraits of old Selwyn family members hung along the walls; and finally, sitting in the corner of their parlor was a well-worn grand piano that had intricately carved patterns along the legs.
Harry walked over to it and pressed on of the keys. It made a beautiful hum, and he was surprised by the quality for how old it looked.
"That's the family piano. When my dad moved here, he took some stuff from Selwyn Manor with him. This piano was my dad's favourite thing from the old house," Triss said sitting down. "He used to love to play when he was a kid, and he couldn't part with it."
"Do you play?" Harry asked while Ron sat himself on the couch, practically dozing off.
"Yeah, he taught me when I was little. I'm a bit out of practice but I still love to play sometimes." Triss's fingers hovered over the keys and began to play a simple but beautiful melody while humming along. "Someone in the family enchanted this so it never loses its tune over time."
"It's great," Harry said honestly. He wished that he had someone to teach him skills like this when he was a kid. Then he began to wonder if his parents knew how to play an instrument or speak another language or sing…
Triss stopped playing and said with an excited look, "Come on I'll show you my room." Harry followed her up the stairs while Ron's snored away on the couch, fast asleep. Harry walked down a hallway, getting a glance at a particularly messy room with a ginger cat perched in a pile of clothes. "That'll be Finn's cat, Juno. The little beast adores him but hates me."
"Can't imagine why," Harry said with a cheeky grin. She poked his side in response. At the end of the hallway, was what he assumed was Triss's room, unless her dad painted his room a soft lavender colour.
"This is my room. Feel free stop by if you ever need a break from Ron's nest," Triss said smiling. Harry looked around and saw that her room was quite fitting. She had a yellow floral bedspread with white furniture and many of the walls were covered with posters of her team, The Holyhead Harpies. Harry wandered over to her bookshelf that was filled titles ranging from Quidditch to children's stories.
He glanced over to her dresser and saw a few empty boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and an identical of the framed photo that she had given him last year for Christmas. Harry noticed that her frame had changed. On the corner of his last year, it said: "Triss and Harry, 11 years in the making". Now on her frame, it said: 12 years in the making.
"Hey, your frame is different. It says twelve when mine only says eleven," Harry said picking it up.
"Well you must not be paying close attention because it was enchanted to change for each year that goes by," Triss said matter-of-factly. Harry realized that the photo was currently locked away in his trunk, so he'll have to check when he got back to the burrow.
Soon Triss let out a loud yawn. She was practically up all night and if there's one thing he knew about his friend, is that she did not function well when she didn't get her sleep.
"I'm going to wake up Ron and head back over to his place. You should get some rest."
"Rest? Why would I need to rest," she said while letting out a rather large yawn. Harry only rolled his eyes with a smile.
"See you later then. Oh, and thanks for rescuing me by the way," he said while walking out of the room.
Triss made herself comfortable and began closing her eyes. "Only for you Potter… Only for you."
What did you all think? Writing from Harry's POV was so fun. I wanted everyone to see from his perspective the Burrow and the Selwyn house. Leave a review and let me know! Favourite, Follow and Review for more!
Guest: Thanks for leaving a review! I can definitely have more on my bio about Triss and this story. I always forget about it so putting more info on my stories should be helpful.