Author's note: Thank you, In Silent Lucidity. Here's the next chapter—and you didn't even have to point your wand at me ;-) Blaise A. Snape, you're the nicest person in the world! Strangelilgirl, thank you, too. I see that I'm on your favourites list. Hmm, well, a very comfy place I must say ;-) And thanks to Sanders who never reviewed but anyway put me on his/her favourite authors list.
Chapter 2: A Friendly Face
I can't see me in this endless town
Not a friendly face around
Can you hear me when I speak out loud
Hear my voice above the crowd
—A-ha: Minor Earth, Major Sky
Hedwig wasn't back yet when Harry was awoken by Aunt Petunia's yell. He rubbed his eyes, still sleepy, and reached for his glasses.
"Are you deaf? How often do we have to—?" Uncle Vernon threw open the door to Harry's room and stopped dead when he saw that the cage was empty.
Harry jumped.
"Oh dear." He cursed under his breath. Uncle Vernon hadn't entered this room for ages. Why did he have to do that now, for heaven's sake? This was not good. Uncle Vernon had already noticed the catastrophe. Whether he suspected Harry of having picked the lock or using magic to accomplish the same task wasn't crucial. It was the mere fact that Harry had disobeyed. If only Harry could cover it up. If only Hedwig had returned a minute or so ago. He would have locked her inside the cage again…
Uncle Vernon's face turned purple as his gaze flickered from the empty cage to Harry and from Harry to the unobtrusive-looking wand. Harry prepared himself for a yell that would—as always—make number four Privet Drive shake in its foundations. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU? THAT OWL IS—!"
And if the mere fact that where a Snowy owl was supposed to sit was only empty space hadn't been enough, Hedwig chose exactly that moment to come back, flying through the open window and landing on the edge of the desk—a dead mouse in her beak and looking rather smug because of it.
Why did Hedwig have to come back now? Why was Uncle Vernon in here when the corpus delicti of Harry's using magic was coming back from a night's stroll?
Vernon Dursley grabbed hold of Harry's hair, pulling him roughly to his feet. "What is this owl doing outside its cage? That animal isn't allowed outside its cage! Not a feather of it is allowed outside its cage!" His face was almost purple with rage and grew even more purple when he saw Harry's wand lying on the bedside table. "How dare you use this abnormality of yours to your advantage…"
But Harry wasn't listening anymore. Ignoring the painful grasp his uncle had on his hair, he stretched as far as he could and suddenly had his wand in his hand.
"Let go of me!" Harry shouted, frantically waving the wand under Vernon Dursley's nose. "Let go of me or I'll… I'll curse you!" Harry couldn't even think about a curse at the moment, let alone cast it properly, but the threat worked. Uncle Vernon let go of him as if Harry were a hot potato.
"You can't do that," he said, something that resembled a nasty grin on his overweight face. "You're not allowed—."
"I can," answered Harry, shaking, "and I will if I have to."
"You're going to…" Uncle Vernon spluttered, retreating, his moustache quivering in his rage.
"I'm going to," Harry interrupted him. "I'm going to write to the Weasleys now, send the letter per Owl Post, like we, wizards that we are, are used to!" Harry yelled. "I'll ask them to come and get me earlier! I'm leaving as soon as possible." Harry couldn't bear it any longer. "And I'm not coming back!" he shouted and slammed the door right into Uncle Vernon's face and collapsed on his bed, taking deep calming breaths, the wand falling to the floor.
Hedwig gave a concerned hoot and ruffled her feathers, before she flew towards him and settled on his arm, apologetically rubbing her head against Harry's cheek.
"Not your fault, dearie. Not your fault. It was only a matter of time anyway. I can't bear it any longer, old girl. I can't bear them. But I don't want to have to fight them…"
He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill.
Dear Mr and Mrs Weasley,
Can you come and get me earlier than we actually agreed on? This is really an emergency. I can't bear it any longer. I can't bear the way they stare at me, only waiting for me to cause something unusual so they have a reason to shout at me or take away my spellbooks or whatever else they can think of. As I'm officially allowed to do magic I'll be able to prevent them from bothering me all too much. But it's terrible to have to do that. It's wearing on me more than I can express in words.
Don't tell Ginny or Ron what I wrote. I don't want them to worry. After all, I don't intend to come back here after school's out. I never want to see my sorry excuse for a family again.
Please come and get me as soon as you can.
I'll be waiting.
Harry
He tied it to Hedwig's leg and told her to hurry. She gave an encouraging hoot, soothingly nibbled on his earlobe and soared out through the open window.
~*~*~
Harry, avoiding the now extremely quiet Dursleys—only Patricia's voice was audible from time to time—by skipping meals (fortunately he had gotten enough of Mrs Weasley's delicious food for his birthday present), whiled away the following day with doing some homework, discreetly collecting his things from the cupboard under the stairs, arranging them in a way that would make it easier to pack as soon as he received word of the Weasleys.
He caught himself glancing in direction of the window much more often than he had realized at first. If only the letter were already here…
It wasn't until dusk that Hedwig's fluttering wings could be heard and she landed on the desk where Harry sat, still poring over the Potions essay that had unfortunately only grown two inches or so since noon.
"Sorry, Hedwig, I don't have any treats for you—but if you'd be satisfied with a pumpkin pasty…" Harry shoved the one he'd been nibbling on towards her.
She looked a bit disappointed, but not angry, and hooted softly, as Harry accepted the letter she held out for him to take.
He all but tore the envelope open.
Dear Harry,
Of course, we'll come earlier if you want us to. We've already secured a Ministry car (unfortunately it won't fly, but nonetheless) and are establishing some means of security right as you read this parchment.
We can be there by tomorrow afternoon, perhaps earlier, if all goes well.
Arthur Weasley
Yes, tomorrow. Tomorrow at this very moment, he could already be at The Burrow.
Harry fell asleep with that thought on his mind—after he had cast another Locking Charm on the door. Maybe he was just growing paranoid, but better be safe than sorry.
~*~*~
The bell rang and Harry stopped dead in his tracks and almost dropped Hedwig's cage, which he had been wrapping up for transporting purposes, when he heard Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps heading for the door.
Harry set the cage onto the desk and rushed down the stairs.
Vernon Dursley was blocking the doorway quite thoroughly ("You cannot enter here!"), but as he wasn't very tall, Harry could see Mr Weasley's head, covered in the feeble remains of what had once been a splendid mop of fiery red hair.
"Harry, how good to see you," he said in greeting.
"Hi, Mr Weasley—."
"Harry!" Ginny quite unceremoniously shoved Uncle Vernon out of her way and threw herself at Harry, giving him the mother of all kisses. His glasses fogged up quite nicely.
"No one's invited—!"
"Oh, shut up," Ron muttered at Uncle Vernon's interruption.
"Have we met?" Harry teased as soon as the circumstances allowed it, and Ginny giggled softly and said, "I missed you."
"Not as much as I missed you," Harry teased, suddenly feeling light and cheerful again as he looked into Ginny's gentle brown eyes.
"I'm not late, am I?" said a familiar voice.
"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"If you'd rather not have me here, I could leave again…" Sirius said with a grin. "If I had a girl like that in my arms, I'd not waste a glance at my shabby old godfather even if he brought his trusty motorcycle with him."
"You're neither old nor shabby. It's good to see you. Especially since your letter was so short—at least to your recent standards. You've been busy, huh?"
"Quite. And right now I'm busy being my godson's bodyguard," Sirius said, crossing the threshold—without Uncle Vernon blocking the doorway. He had backed away, looking terrified. Of course, Sirius Black, the escaped criminal. Or was it rather that the Dursleys knew him as a criminal wizard, who—as if that in itself weren't enough already—additionally happened to be Harry's godfather? And although Sirius had nothing in common anymore with the filthy skin-and-bone creature that had escaped from Azkaban, Uncle Vernon had put one and one together and got two.
Sirius crushed Harry in a bear hug and thoroughly ruffled his hair. Not that the state of it would have worsened. Nothing could make Harry's hair look untidier than it did already by nature.
"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you," Sirius said.
It was a bit embarrassing. A seventeen-year-old boy in clothes at least three sizes too big but three inches too short for him getting his hair messed up by a godfather clad in a black wizard's robe or rather what must be the motorcycling version of it.
"Oh, stop it, Sirius. I'll never get my hair to lie flat that way."
"Don't even think about it. James couldn't manage that. You won't either," he grinned, giving his hair another ruffle but thankfully letting go of Harry.
"Thanks for the broomstick. I didn't even know there was a new Firebolt coming out."
"Someone has to stay informed about such things. Wouldn't want you to lose a game only because the opponent's broom was faster than yours—particularly when that opponent's name is Malfoy." Sirius winked. "Speaking of Malfoy… I think I was a bit rude. Excuse me for a moment," he said and all but rounded on Uncle Vernon who looked as though he would have liked to disappear right into the wall, and Aunt Petunia and Dudley who had come out of the kitchen to back Uncle Vernon up.
"Sirius Black," he introduced himself and extended his hand, showing his teeth in what one could call either an inviting grin or a maniacal sneer.
No one moved to take his hand and shake it. Three Muggle faces were looking at him as if he'd attack and kill them any second. Uncle Vernon's mouth was opening and closing at random, but no sound came out.
Sirius dropped his hand. "Enchanted," he bowed slightly, and turning to Harry he said, "How ever did you learn to speak at all with the three of them being so silent all the time?"
Harry shrugged. "Usually they aren't that quiet. It's almost bearable today. Good you came before noon. In the afternoon, it would have been another Patricia-experience. That voice penetrates walls."
"Another what?" Ginny asked.
"Patricia-experience. Dudley's girlfriend."
"You managed to get a girlfriend?" Ron asked, stunned.
Dudley nodded hesitantly. Harry remembered something. He'd wanted to show off with Ginny a bit.
"Dudley, dearest cousin," Harry began, "meet Virginia Weasley. My girlfriend. Ginny, meet Dudley Dursley."
First, Ginny nodded politely. "Pleasure. Harry has been talking of you quite a lot…" she trailed off, meaningfully raising an eyebrow at him.
Dudley blushed crimson. He must know that Harry had not much good to report about him.
"Where's your trunk, Harry? Upstairs?" Mr Weasley asked.
"Yeah, I didn't expect you to come so early," Harry said apologetically. "But I'm almost finished packing anyway…"
"I'll help you go get it," Ron said, and they made their way up the staircase, leaving three extremely unhappy Muggles, two full-grown wizards, and a Ginny behind who peered curiously into the kitchen and the living room. "Can I touch your new broom?" Ron continued. "A Firebolt II. Wow… I never thought I'd ever get to see one close up. The Firebolt II. Best broomstick ever. And according to the latest edition of Which Broomstick, it doesn't even have that slight list to the tail-end and won't develop that drag after a few years that the Nimbus series always had. Not that you'd ever had problems."
"No, it got smashed to pieces before it could even consider developing anything at all," Harry said dryly.
Harry's first ever broomstick had been smashed by the Whomping Willow, a particularly vicious tree that guarded the entrance to the Shrieking Shack, a haunted house in Hogsmeade, where Remus Lupin, a friend of James Potter, had always been taken to be able to transform into a werewolf without hurting anyone but himself.
"That gives me an idea. You could use my old Firebolt when we play Quidditch."
"Really?" Ron beamed. He had always all but worshipped Harry's Firebolt and had been so proud that Harry had let him fly it from time to time when they had been practising. Not many people had that privilege. Harry guarded his brooms almost like Fluffy had guarded the Philosopher's Stone.
"Sure."
"Ginny will be happy that I don't have to steal her Shooting Star any longer. But face it, the twigs are more even on hers than they're on mine. And as she hardly needs a broom at all when we're at school… Hi, Hedwig."
The Snowy owl swept towards Harry and landed on his out-stretched arm.
"Good you're back, old girl," Harry said, stroking her fluffy breast feathers. "The Weasleys are a bit early. And Sirius has come too." Hedwig hooted expectantly. "If you wanted to ask if he brought something for you, I must say that I don't know, but somehow I don't think so." Hedwig ruffled her feather indignantly.
"But I'm convinced," Ron said, looking around the room for anything Harry might have overlooked, "that Errol will gladly share a treat or two with you as soon as we're at The Burrow."
That seemed to lighten her mood considerably, since she affectionately nibbled first on Harry's earlobe, then on Ron's, and then flew downstairs. A screech and a yelp could be heard, and then Ginny's exasperated voice. "Come on, it's only Hedwig. Some Muggles. Honestly…"
Harry could almost see her roll her eyes in the way she always did when something annoyed her.
"Look. You've forgotten something," Ron said. "That's the WWW collection I gave you for your birthday."
"I've learnt to be careful with anything Fred or George had their hands in," Harry grinned. "But I leave your present, which I really appreciate, for a reason that Fred and George—and you—will find very noble. Evil but noble."
"Dudley, huh?"
"Exactly. Or is something really dangerous in there? I don't want him to get anything that could kill him."
"If you've taken out the Ton-Tongue Toffees?"
"I have. He already knows those anyway."
"Then there's nothing to fear. I've had one of everything that's inside and everything wore off after an hour or two again."
"Well, if that's so. It's almost a pity that none of us will be able to watch him turn into a canary. He's not that fat anymore, but I'm fairly sure that he can't resist something that looks as delicious as Fred and George's nastiest tricks. He might even offer Patty-pumpkin one of those…"
"I think I'd like to meet her—."
"You—."
"—as soon as she's had a Canary Cream, of course."
Harry laughed. "Of course."
"Hurry up a bit, will you?" Ginny shouted. "The faster the safer."
"Coming, Gin."
"Yeah, we were already on our way," Ron shouted in reply, winked and put the WWW collection back onto Harry's desk. "We're being so evil, Harry."
Harry shrugged. "If Dudley doesn't know better than to eat something that's packed in a box with moving pictures on its front…"
Minutes later, all of them were packed and stacked into a car that looked extremely Muggle on the outside, but not on the inside. It had been magically expanded to fit them all in. All except Hedwig and Sirius.
Hedwig flew before them. Harry could see her as a small white spot in the blue summer sky.
As to Sirius, he was riding his motorcycle, following them at a short distance. He looked so cool, like an actual bodyguard.
Harry almost felt like the Premier Minister or even Queen Mum. He felt important. Such a fuss they made about him. Was it really that dangerous? At Hogwarts, you just didn't feel the gravity of the war against the Dark side. At the Dursleys', you didn't get enough news about the current state in the wizarding world. The second-hand information Harry got from his friends and Sirius simply hadn't revealed the whole picture. Somehow he'd thought, they exaggerated a bit. On the other hand—Harry was positive about that—there were definitely a few things they deliberately kept from him…
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as they left Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent behind, and with it the Muggle world. He wouldn't return there if he could help it at all.
He hadn't even said good-bye.
~*~*~
They arrived at The Burrow in the early evening hours. As it was summer, it wasn't completely dark yet.
"Well, I'm off," Sirius said. "Sorry. I'd really have liked to stay a bit. But—."
"Yeah, I know," Harry said. "It was good to see you, Sirius. Take care."
"I will. I'll write."
"Me too."
"Will you come to Hogwarts again? For the Quidditch games in November?"
"If I can, I will," he said. "But I can't promise."
"I understand. It's alright."
"Bye, Harry. Take care. All of you."
"You too."
They embraced for a moment (Harry had his hair ruffled again), and Sirius was off. Harry looked after him until he had almost disappeared. The black spot that was Sirius on his motorcycle rose from the ground and vanished into the dusky sky.
Harry shook his head. Sirius and his motorcycle. One seemingly wasn't complete without the other.
"Harry! Come on inside," Mr Weasley called.
"Yes!" he answered, threw another glance in the direction where Sirius had disappeared and ran into the house where he was greeted by Fred and George who carried a small bag of something around, offering it to anyone who crossed their path. "One of these, anyone?"
"So…" Harry said. "You wanted to confess something, Ron?"
"What? Oh, yes. Just a second." He turned away, fumbled around in his pocket, pulled something silvery out and then turned back to Harry, a glinting Head Boy badge fastened to his maroon sweater.
"You guessed already, didn't you?" Ron said.
Harry nodded. "Congratulations. My best friend has become Head Boy. Does that mean I can sneak out of the dormitory without having points taken away?"
"To a certain extent. If said Head Boy's sneaking out with you…"
"Mate, there are some things a man has to do on his own."
"You mean, snog my sister?"
"Well, hypothetically…"
"Don't you dare snog someone else as long as you're the official boyfriend of my little sister."
"I would never. Your little sister's huge temper prevents that. But honestly, congratulations, Ron. Your parents must have been so proud."
"Oh, they are. But, you see, actually I don't really care who's Head Boy as long as it's not Malfoy. He'd never let me see the end of it… But me getting the job is an added bonus."
"Ronald, would you assist me in the kitchen?" Mrs Weasley called.
Ron groaned softly. "Five brothers and a sister and she still calls upon me to—."
"Ron!"
"Yes, Mum! In a moment—!"
"Now!"
He rolled his eyes at Harry and shrugged. "Yes, Mum!"
"I'll go get your present, Harry!" Ginny said and ran up the staircase, leaving Harry alone with the twins.
"How's it going with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry felt obliged to ask at Fred and George's expectant looks.
"Oh, well…" Fred/George began.
"You know…" George/Fred continued solemnly.
Then they exchanged a glance, broke into huge grins and chorused, "Splendid!" before bowing their heads at Mrs Weasley's exasperated glance, which she threw at them, as she swept past.
"That's good," Harry said. "Anything I shouldn't eat or even touch in here that I don't know already? Biting pies? Pounding Pasties?"
"Write that down, Fred."
"Naturally. Actually, we do have something new. They're Ginny's invention. Want one?" Fred pulled out a bag with sweets in every colour in it. They looked a bit like Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans.
"What do they do?" Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Don't ask. Try one already," George said, still a fairly expectant look on his face as did his twin.
"I don't trust you farther than I can throw either one of you," Harry answered, laughing. "And I don't trust anything Ginny invented if said invention manages to draw that look on your faces."
One of the twins wiped an imaginary tear away. "Can you believe it, Fred? The great Harry Potter doesn't want to try a Ginny Gem."
"We must have ruined our reputation at some point or other," Fred answered, shaking his head in mock-depression.
Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Now, that's no reason to break down entirely," he joined the twins' charade. "It's not that it hadn't been ruined for years already. But I'd really like to have a Ginny Gem now."
A manic glint appeared in both the twins' eyes as broad grins plastered themselves on their faces.
Fred held the bag of sweets and offered them to Harry who took a pleasantly violet and blue striped one that was wrapped in transparent paper, eyeing it curiously for a moment before he put it in his pocket.
"I think I'll keep it for later. I'll ask Ginny first if it turns me into a pink rabbit or something."
"If I were you, Harry, I wouldn't eat anything they offered," Mrs Weasley came in. "Dinner's ready. You look like you could use it." She eyed Harry up and down.
"Um…" Harry began, not knowing what to answer.
Ginny's footsteps could be heard, trampling down the staircase. "Dinner's waiting, Ginny," Mrs Weasley said, smiling up kindly at her daughter who was by now almost a head taller than Mrs Weasley. Then she bustled back into the kitchen, where Harry could hear her reprimanding Fred and George within a matter of seconds.
"There," Ginny said breathlessly and held out a small bag. "These are for you. I've invented them myself and sold the idea to Fred and George. They produce them and I get my share of the winnings. That means I'm a member of WWW now—but don't tell Mum."
"Thanks, Gin. What are these?" Harry eyed the bag.
"They're called Ginny Gems—."
"Fred and George already introduced me to them—."
"I'm going to kill them."
"No. No. I've taken one of them, but I don't know what it does. They refused to tell me," Harry explained.
"Okay, so I'm not going to kill them after all."
"What do those Ginny Gems do?"
"You'll have to eat one if you want to know that."
"Virginia…"
"Ooh, should I be scared that you're calling me by my full name?" she teased.
"Indeed, yes."
"Why?"
"Because I intend to tickle the answer out of you—."
"Ginny! Harry! Your food's getting cold!" Mrs Weasley's voice could be heard coming from the kitchen.
"Stop snogging our sister!" Fred and George chorused.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I've changed my mind. I'm going to inherit Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes from them sooner than I thought…"
"Later."
"What later?"
"Tickle the answer as to what Ginny Gems do to you out of you."
"Tell you what. I'll have one, too. Later. They're really delicious despite their… ahem… side-effect."
"Side-effect," Harry echoed. "Nice choice of words."
"Let's go inside before Fred and George get any ideas. They might put beetles in your soup. They've already done that to Percy several times, and the poor fellow never notices."
~*~*~
After dinner, they heaved Harry's trunk into Ron's room (it was still orange all over), and Harry unpacked a few things, such as his not yet finished homework. After that, he excused himself from Ron.
"Where're you going, Harry?" Ron asked.
"I promised Gin to try a Ginny Gem," Harry answered.
"You shouldn't have done that."
"Why? What do they do?"
"I'm not telling you. Ginny would never forgive me."
"You just want to see me sprout feathers or something," Harry muttered.
"That would be Canary Creams. And you won't trick me into giving it away. I had to suffer, too, although for us Weasleys it's not that bad."
"Well, I'd better go before she comes in here and drags me out by my hair."
"Good luck." Ron grinned.
"I really appreciate that," Harry muttered sarcastically before he closed the door after him and sneaked into Ginny's room.
"Well, well, well, whom have we here?" Ginny asked in greeting. "I almost thought you wanted to back out."
"I'm a Gryffindor. Gryffindors don't back out of anything, no matter how dangerous and life-threatening it might be."
"Ginny Gems are neither. They're just funny."
"Gryffindors are also famous for their sense of humour." Harry pulled out the one he had taken from Fred and George. "You too," he demanded.
"Okay." Ginny drew another one of the small bags out of a drawer and pulled out a pink Ginny Gem with yellow spots.
Harry popped his into his mouth; Ginny mimicked his action.
Nothing happened.
"What now?" Harry asked.
"Look into the mirror." Ginny opened the wardrobe. There was a mirror on the inside of the door.
Harry stared in disbelief and then began to laugh. His usually raven-black hair had turned a clashing crimson!
He turned back to Ginny who was sniggering really badly.
Ginny's appearance hadn't changed that much. Her hair might have been a little redder than usual, but as the difference wasn't that great, it was hardly noticeable.
"That's not fair," Harry said, in-between his laughs. "For you, they're completely safe, whereas they turn me into a… a…"
"A redhead?" Ginny suggested.
"A Weasley."
"That's one and the same," she grinned.
"I think I like those. Ginny Gems, hmm." He popped another one into his mouth. "Different flavours, too…"
"And no spinach or earwax flavoured ones. All of them are edible."
"That's a comfort."
"I wouldn't want anything to bear my name if it tasted like dirt or vomit, would I?"
"Of course not." Harry looked back into the mirror. "Say, how long will this—," he pointed at his hair. "How long will this take to go away?"
"Let's see… How many did you eat? Two, wasn't it?"
"Yes?" Harry grew suspicious.
"Hmm," Ginny made an indecisive sound. "Should wear off some time tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow afternoon?" Harry exclaimed. "Tomorrow afternoon?"
"Well, a blue and lavender striped one lasts about four or five hours… And the green one lasts up to two and a half hours. Fred tested them on Pig to determine that. But what happens if you eat more than one…" she grinned. "Why don't you eat the whole bag? You might not see your natural hair colour until they turn grey."
Harry couldn't think of a retort. He was speechless.
"Red hair goes well with your eyes," Ginny chanced.
"You don't intend to invent something to change one's eye-colour, do you?"
"Good idea. Want to sell it to Fred and George?"
"You Weasleys are a quite greedy lot, aren't you?"
"Just me and Ron and Fred and George…"
"I get the point." Harry laughed.
"But you are really cute, even without eating a Ginny Gem first."
"For you I'd eat a bag of them."
"Really?"
"Wipe that nasty grin off your face. You look like Fred and George. But honestly, if I had to, I would do anything for you."
"I love you, Harry, red hair or not."
"And I love you, whether you secure me a lifelong supply of Ginny Gems or not." Harry suddenly had to fight the urge to yawn. "Oh dear, what time is it?"
"Oh! Almost two in the morning. I didn't realize."
"I noticed," he answered. "Neither did I."
"Well, I guess it's good night."
"Guess so."
After several long kisses, they parted and Harry went into Ron's room, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He managed to slur a "G'Night, Ron," before he was off to the land of dreams.
He didn't even hear Ron snicker before he put out the light.
~*~*~
The following days passed in a blur. Harry couldn't remember a time when he had felt that good. They spent their days playing Quidditch four against four, as Bill and Charlie spent their holiday at home, and even Percy had decided to mount a broomstick. "Three against four would be most unfair, wouldn't it?"
In the evenings, they'd be playing Gobstones or Exploding Snap.
Even the fact that they had to finish their homework didn't spoil their mood. In fact, it was rather enjoyable. Ginny, who hadn't selected Divination, was quite curious as to what their essay was about this time and provided them with a few quite ghastly ways of being killed by various very rare but extremely dangerous creatures. In a word, some very unlikely death scenarios. "If Trelawney's as bad as you're saying, she'll love them."
So it was that the day Hermione was supposed to arrive they'd finished their homework. Never before had Harry been done with them that early in the holidays. Ron had said, "We must be done before she comes over or she'll never let me hear the end of it." Harry had only grinned.
As they sat at breakfast, Ron kept glancing at his watch, nervous.
"Calm down," said Ginny, "it's not as if you hadn't met her before. And she won't come earlier only because you try to hypnotise your watch into making time pass more swiftly either."
Ron was completely unaffected by Ginny's comment. He went on doing what he did for quite some time until—.
A noise coming from the living room could be heard, followed by a cough.
"That must be Hermione!" Ron exclaimed and jumped to his feet. The assembled Weasleys sniggered. Mrs Weasley smiled benignly. And even Percy couldn't suppress a halfway amused grin.
"Hello?" Hermione's voice echoed through the corridor. "Ron? Mrs Weasley? Anyone home?"
"'Mione! It's so good to see you!" Ron shouted, as several dull thuds and an angry meowing noise indicated that Hermione had set down her luggage. Ron had grown considerably fonder of Crookshanks ever since his involvement in the Peter Pettigrew affair.
"I've missed you…"
The rest of the conversation was too silent for Harry to be overheard except for a small snigger of Hermione's.
"They're snogging," Ginny said so dryly that Harry couldn't help breaking into a fit of the giggles. "Let's give them a minute or two—or until lunch."
The day went by as quickly as every day Harry had ever spent at The Burrow.
After dinner, Ginny dragged him into her room and drew him into another kiss.
"To what do I owe that one?" Harry said.
"To your skills as a kisser?" Ginny chanced.
"I always thought I was a Seeker?"
"Well, you already caught me, so that part of it has already been covered."
"Indeed." Harry kissed her again, slowly, intending to kiss her quite senseless. When he pulled back, he whispered breathlessly, "It's late. I should go—."
"Go where?" Ginny whispered back.
"Ron's—."
"I don't think this is such a good idea."
"Why not?"
"You see, Hermione and I decided not to share my room—."
"I get it," Harry said, drawing her near. "Would you mind doing with me what I suspect Hermione's doing with Ron?"
"As much as you know they could be mending socks in there," Ginny sniggered.
"Socks, huh? Why are you so obsessed with socks? Dumbledore's too. Is that a pure-blood wizarding character trait or something like that?"
"I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Malfoy?"
"Must you spoil the mood like that?"
"Sorry," Ginny wrinkled her nose, snaking her arms around Harry's waist and under his shirt. "That better?"
"Considerably," said Harry before any further conversation was put out of the question.
~*~*~
The last weekend of the holidays was reserved for the obligatory trip to Diagon Alley. They travelled there by Floo powder, their first stop thus being The Leaky Cauldron.
As they entered Diagon Alley through the secret entrance situated just outside the pub's backdoor, the figures clad in black robes bearing the emblem of the Ministry of Magic were immediately obvious.
"We've got an Auror shortage because of the war," Mr Weasley explained, as he perceived Harry's curious stare. "Everyone who can hold a wand and has a perfectly clean record is asked to join Ministry services, so we'll be able to guard public areas such as Diagon Alley properly, especially now that Hogwarts students come here to buy their supplies. It will be easier as soon as you're all safely back at Hogwarts. The train will be highly guarded, too… Harker! How's it going?" he greeted one of the Aurors who nodded in reply.
"Alright, we'll meet again at Florean Fortescue's in three hours, so you should have enough time to get your things. I'll be around."
They all nodded and headed into Gringotts to get their money before they decided to get their books first.
So they went to Flourish and Blotts, the entrance to which was guarded by two Aurors on either side of the door who acknowledged them with a nod as the four teenagers went past them. Inside they could see another pair of Aurors who walked through the throng of customers, checking anything suspicious, sometimes asking a wizard or witch to open his or her bag so they could have a look if they carried something dangerous with them.
"Well, well, well," an all-too-familiar voice drawled, "if it isn't Potty, the Mudblood and the Weasels. What are you doing in a shop? You can't afford anything here anyway."
"You've just given me an idea, Malfoy," Ginny said. "We could earn a lot of money if we were to become a band and called ourselves like you just did. Sounds like a lovely band name to me. And even the Death Eaters could remember it, their brains being as small as they are."
"Watch what you—."
"Is there a problem?" an Auror who had come by asked sharply.
They shook their heads. Even Malfoy said, "No, sir."
"Then go about your business."
Malfoy slipped away into the crowd.
"Wow. They're really paranoid," Ron said, impressed.
"Understandable, isn't it? If only half of what the Daily Prophet reported is true…"
"I don't even know half of what the Daily Prophet reported, Hermione," Harry said. "And if only half of what I fear is true, they're doing well to be cautious."
"Let's get our things," Ginny said, "before we come across someone else who's looking for trouble."
"Okay."
"Everybody got their list? Ron?"
"Of course, Hermione, what do you take me for?" He waved it in front of her. "Besides, Harry needs the same books as I do. And so do you… Well, and a dozen of books in addition to the compulsory ones."
Hermione shot him a death glare.
"Don't look at me that way. I'll be carrying them for you. I'm just complaining in advance. I won't be able to speak as soon as I've got to carry two bags in either one of my hands and a fifth one in my mouth."
Hermione had to laugh at that. "I'd like to see that. Let's go get our books, Ron."
"Miss Weasley, I wouldn't want to be a worse boyfriend than your brother. May I ask the privilege to be burdened with your books?"
"Certainly, Mr Potter. Certainly."
They returned to The Burrow with their bags very full and heavy with books and school supplies and their money bags considerably lighter than they had been before.
Next chapter:
We journey to Hogwarts, lose Trevor, get bad news, get all gloomy—and my lovely OC gets the introduction she deserves…Oh, and from now on we'll get much more of Snape than we'd bargained for ;-)
Author's note: I think the Ginny Gems were in some lovely story I read at Gryffindor Tower… But I can't remember which one…