Chapter 2 -- Back to The Burrow

A/N: Apologies to all you 'happy Harry' fans out there. It's a bit perplexing how dark Harry's turning out to be in this story, but I seldom question the mystical forces that drive my writing. I'm just going to have faith the muses'll help to lighten things up as the story progresses some more and Harry'll start cheering up a bit. Until then, though, I'm going to go ahead and make this story categories action/adventure and angst. A rather strange thing for me to do since I've never written angst before. I think I'm enjoying it though. There's this slight fangirl side of me that secretly takes delight in this new Harry. Torturing him tends to send these happy little sadistic shivers up my spine. It's getting to be a rather addictive feeling, and it's beginning to make me understand why Rowling's always breaking Harry's arm and such.

Yeah for author power! Enjoy the chapter and please be sure to send me your comments in the review box located at the bottom of the page. Click once. Write lots.

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Harry felt the reassuring pressure of his feet touching down on solid ground for barely a second before he toppled over and collapsed. Banging his head against the end of the table, he heard a chair fall nearby him, indicating that Tonks had arrived safely too.

At first Harry saw nothing but a blur until he readjusted his glasses and brought his surroundings back into focus. He rubbed the back of his head, attempted to get up, and was helped along suddenly by an overjoyed Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry dear, how good it is to see you again!" she exclaimed, smoothing him in the second hug he had that day.

"Nice to see you too, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he tried to regain his composer. His eyes shifted around the Weasley kitchen, surprised at all changes it had undergone. The usually cramped surrounding, packed to the brim with kitchen appliances, pots, and pans, was no longer so cramped. The tiny room that used to barely even hold the dinner table was now a great deal larger. Everything looked stretched. The originally single window above the sink area was now double, if not triple, its size, and the coat rack by the door that was usually flooded with clothing was now long enough to accommodate everything with plenty left over to spare. There were a lot of new items there too. The old, battered table which legs were almost falling off had been replaced with a nicer one and all the mismatched chairs were gone and replaced with identical ones.

"What happened?" he asked, amazed at the transformation.

Mrs. Weasley's expression was hard to read. "Fred and George decided to expand the place a bit."

"But how?"

"Apparently their foolish idea of opening a joke shop somehow pulled through for them. They're making a fair bit of gold now and thought they would treat the family. Though it's obvious to anyone that they're squandering their money with all the rubbish they're buying." She sounded half proud, half disgusted.

Tonks stifled a laugh. "Yes, well, the dragon skin coats may have been a bit much."

"A bit?" Mrs. Weasley said indignantly. "They'll be lucky if they don't end up on the run from the goblins like Ludo Bagman."

"Doeth George and I hear our mother dearest singing our praises?" a familiar voice of mirthful mischief rang as Fred and George entered the kitchen.

George went immediately up to Harry and held out his hand to him. "Hello there, Harry. So good to see you. Put 'er there."

Harry grinned and shook George's hand. Immediately a sharp electrical shock ran up and down his arm. He wrenched his hand away instantly. "What the he--"

"Hand buzzer," George answered, holding up his hand so Harry could see the small, hidden devise. "An old Muggle trick. Fred and I are experimenting with these buggers to see if we can produce something similar to them for our joke shop. The Muggles got a bit of the right idea, but we felt it needed.... more of a kick to it."

Harry was tempted to say that it had plenty of a kick to it as is.

"Not so bad, these Muggle jokes," Fred stated. He pulled out a deck of playing cards still in its box. "Some are rather lame though. Like this here." He showed the card box to Harry, who backed up from them instinctively. "Want to play 'pick up fifty-two'?" he asked politely.

Harry eyed them both suspiciously. "How do you play 'pick up fifty-two'?"

Fred grinned. "Like this." He threw the cards on the ground and waited for Harry's reaction.

Harry just stared.

George shook his head at Fred. "No, no, Fred. You did it all wrong." He picked the deck back up. "You've got to take the cards out and then you throw them on the floor so they scatter, like so." He threw and scattered the cards at Harry's feet.

Harry backed up a bit more.

Fred looked unimpressed. "Whatever. It was a lame joke anyway. All you've got to do is summon them back." He did this and returned the cards to the deck.

"Why, hello there, Harry." Ginny Weasley entered the kitchen in a pair of worn Muggle jeans and a baggy top with a pile of clean clothes in her arms. "Have a fun summer so far?"

"Fine, I guess," Harry said with an indifferent shrug. He hated it when people asked him that. As if a summer with the Dursleys could be fun.

"I guess that was a stupid question, huh?" Ginny said, glancing at Harry knowingly. She sat down at the table and began to fold clothes. "Like any summer with your relatives would be fun."

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, as she always did when Harry's aunt and uncle were mentioned. "Is Ron back, Ginny?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's back. He was supposed to help me with the laundry, but he's upstairs in his room sulking instead."

"Practice still getting him down?" Tonks asked sympathetically.

"Practice?" Harry asked.

"Quidditch practice," Fred said with his eyes rolling. "He's been at it all the time with Ginny. Seems to be under the impression that he's not going to be Keeper this year."

"But why would Ron think such a silly thing as that?" Harry asked indignantly.

"I dunno," said George with sarcasm. "Could be the whole 'Weasley is Our King' fiasco. Kind of a put-off if you ask me."

"That was just usual Slytherin taunts though," Harry said with loath. "Ron's just being thick. He did awesome in our game against Ravenclaw from what I've heard. Our Captain would never dream of replacing him."

Harry wasn't prepared for the reaction in the room after he said this. There was complete silence as everyone exchanged looks of amusement on their faces.

"What?" he asked in annoyance.

Ginny plopped the last shirt she needed to fold in the table. "Oh, Harry, you really are dense sometimes. Haven't you already figured out by now who the new Gryffindor quidditch Captain will be?"

Harry just stared.

"Let me spell it out for him, Gin," Fred said impatiently. He screwed up his face in a look of fierce concentration. "Alright, now, first of all, who's all graduated Hogwarts that was on the team last year? There's George and I, of course, not that we were on the team much with that bitch (sorry there, mum) Umbridge around. Then there's Angelina, Katie, and Alicia. That leaves only... let me think now.... Yes.... You, Ron, Ginny, and those two twits that Angelina replaced George and me with: Andrew what's-his-face and Jack Sloppy."

"Sloper," Ginny corrected.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Now who would be the logical choice for Captain this year?" George asked, copying Fred's strained _expression. "There's Ron to consider: Mr. Newbie, who's been an avid fan of a deadbeat quidditch team that hasn't won the League since 1892 and has a bit of an inferiority complex. Then there's Ginny, a wicked player, no doubt," George cast Ginny an uneasy smile, "but a new one, as well as only being a replacement for Seeker. She might not even be on the team this year. Lastly there's Jack and Andrew. These guys are only third years and can hardly even tell their bats from their brooms. Not much chance for them. Dear me, who else is left...."

"I know we're missing someone...."

Harry felt his face going red.

"He has a scar."

"He's had some dealings with You-Know-Who."

"Everyone thought he was barking last year."

"Harald.... Hamfred.... Harris....Harry.... Harry! Oh, yes, there it is: Harry Potter!" Fred exclaimed.

"Now why would Harry Potter make a good Captain?" George asked sarcastically.

"Well, he's been on the team since his first year-- the only first year Seeker at Hogwarts in a century, I might add."

"And he's never failed to win us a match."

"Unless you count elements that were beyond our control."

"He's the only member on the team that's been there for more then a year."

"And Angelina's already suggested him to McGonagall."

"He's got the looks."

"The guts."

"The strength."

"The motivations!"

"The charisma!"

"Enough!" Mrs. Weasley shouted before they could continue. "We've all got the idea, you two."

Harry was still unsure. "But surely McGonagall wouldn't choose me. I was kicked off the team, remember?"

Ginny huffed. "As if McGonagall's going to continue the ban now that that cow (no offense, mum) Umbridge is off in St. Mungo."

Something still wasn't quite adding up to Harry. "Fine, so suppose I do somehow make captain for the Gryffindor quidditch team, what's Ron doing all the practicing for? It's not like I'd kick him off the team or anything."

"Well, he'll be relieved to hear that!" Fred exclaimed. "He's been worried that that was the reason you weren't answering any of his letters. Supposed you didn't have the heart to tell him or something."

"The prat," Harry said vehemently. "I haven't even heard a single word from Hogwarts since term ended, and even if I had, he's know me for years. Like I'd really even think of throwing him off the team!"

"Harry, you're speaking to the chior, here. We all know that. It's Ron that needs the convincing. We've all been worried about you not answering out letters, of course, but you can't really blame him for drawing his own conclusions," Ginny soothed.

"Can I go see him then?" Harry asked, struggling not to feel ashamed again.

Ginny shrugged. "Sure you can. He's just up in his room."

"Good."

"Be sure to tell Ron that lunch will be ready in an hour," Mrs. Weasley said as Harry pushed past George and Fred.

Harry left the kitchen, feeling somewhat overwhelmed and drained. He passed through the family room and as he made his way up the stairs to Ron's room, he noticed that the kitchen wasn't the only thing that had been modified. The stairs weren't nearly as narrow as he remembered them to be and there were two new doorways in the hall. Harry went to the last one and knocked at the door.

"Who is it?" came the familiar voice inside.

"It's me. Harry," Harry replied.

There was a small crashing sound followed by rapidly approaching footsteps. A second later the door flew open to reveal a red faced Ronald Weasley.

"Harry!" he exclaimed in delight. "You're already here!"

"Yeah, Tonks and I just arrived a few minutes ago," Harry said with a grin. Ron opened up his door wider and he stepped into the room. The familiar Chudley Cannons posters stunned Harry's eyes for a moment with their bright orange colors.

"This is great! I heard mum say Dumbledore was trying to arrange it where you could come over for the rest of summer. I just hadn't expected it to be so soon." Ron sat down at the edge of his bed, moving over a few articles of clothes. "Hermione won't even be here for another three weeks." His face suddenly dropped. "Say, why haven't you been answering any of my letters? I must have sent you a dozen of them. If you're...mad at me or anything, you should've just told me before you left for the Dursley's. Everyone's been really worried."

"I know," Harry said as he took a seat in a chair at Ron's desk, removing a stack of comic books in the way. "I've just been... busy." He knew it was a lame lie, but there really wasn't anything else to say.

His delight in seeing Ron was already fading. Harry knew he was being unfair at being annoyed by people asking him about the letters, it was his fault after all that they had to worry, but he didn't want to talk about it. There really was no way for them to understand after all. He had just been so sick of the wizarding world when he had received those letters. Hadn't they treated him similarly last year anyway? No one had really told him anything while he was cut off from the wizarding world. He had been completely alone. If anything, they deserved to know what it felt like to be left in the dark about something for a bit.

Ron looked at Harry oddly. "Busy, were you?" His face clearly said he wasn't buying any of it.

"Fred and George told me about your quidditch practice," Harry said, rushed to change the subject.

"Oh yes, that," Ron looked nervous. "I was just thinking that maybe... you weren't writing because of... well,"

Harry didn't wait for him to explain it. "Of course I wouldn't kick you off the team! What kind of friend do you take me for?"

"The kind that doesn't answer any of my letters, that's all," Ron said defensively.

"That was only because--"

"Yes?" Ron prompted.

Harry glared at him. "I'm not having this conversation with you right now," he resolved sourly.

Ron frowned and started playing with the hem of his shirt. "Listen," he began slowly. "I never really got to tell you how sorry I was over Sirius. Hermione and I both are. He was our friend too, you know."

"Why are you talking about this with me now?" Harry asked coldly. "Can't you tell I'd really prefer not to?"

"I know! Well, it's just.... Hermione seems under the impression that Sirius is the reason you weren't writing back to us, and I sort of... well, think I might agree with her a bit now."

"So what? Have you guys been analyzing me over the summer or something?" Harry demanded angrily.

"No. We were just worrying, that's all."

"Well, I'm fine, so you can both just cut it out."

The redness in Ron's face advanced to his ears. "It's plain to see, Harry, that you aren't fine, so there's no point in you telling me you are. If you were fine, we wouldn't be having this discussion and you would've been writing to me."

"Look, it's not such a big deal. I just didn't feel like writing to anyone, alright?"

"Why then?" Ron demanded. "Why didn't you write us?"

"I tried to, really I did. It's just that....I couldn't."

"Because of Sirius?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I can't," Harry paused and looked at the ground bitterly. "I can't tell you," he muttered.

"There you go again with your secrets," said Ron in exasperation.

"So?" Harry snapped, getting up from his seat. "Why should I tell you something if you couldn't understand?"

"How could I understand if you don't even tell me?" Ron shot back.

Harry sighed and sank back down tiredly. "Let's just drop it, ok, Ron?"

Ron looked like he didn't very much want to do that, but he abandoned his scowl anyway and shrugged. "Whatever you say. I wasn't really in the mood for a fight anyway."

Harry ran his fingers along the wires of Pigwidgeon's empty cage. Ron had unraveled a good-sized string from his shirt now. Both of them seemed equally determined not to look each other in the eye.

Their silent brooding was short-lived however when Ginny came in, swinging the door to Ron's room open loudly and banging it into the shelve behind it. She had discarded her practice clothes and had replaced them with a yellow jumper that fell past her knees. She went in quickly and jumped over next to Ron on his bed, kicking her legs behind her. She propped her head with her hands and looked over at her brother slyly. "Hello there, Ronald."

"Don't you knock?" Ron asked irritably.

"Well, I did," said Ginny innocently. "But apparently there was too much yelling going on inside, and you didn't hear me."

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Nothing much, really. Just wanted to come up here and say hello, and to also warn you that Bill and his girlfriend are back. They're going to joining us for dinner, so you might want to try really hard to not to act as idiotic as you did last time she came over."

"Shut up," said Ron in annoyance, his ears gone red again.

"Bill's girlfriend?" Harry said curiously. "That would be Fleur Delacour, right?"

"That's the one." Ginny giggled. "They've been going out for a year now. Mum's practically ecstatic about it. She's been predicting that they'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

"Yeah, I can't really blame her though. She's been pretty disappointed with Bill and Charlie since neither one of them has supplied her with grandchildren yet," Ron stated with slight amusement.

"Did Ron tell you about mum's attempt to get Charlie and Tonks together?" Ginny asked Harry eagerly.

Harry tried to not look surprise. "No he didn't. How'd she do that?"

"Oh, you know. Typical stuff. She mainly just kept sending them not-so-subtle hints about how they were both single, around the same age, and such. It really was a waste of time for her. Tonks has already told me that she's more interested in Professor Lupin then Charlie."

If the other one was surprising to Harry, this was shocking. "What!" he exclaimed. "Her and Professor Lupin? But he's so much older then her and a, and a--"

"A werewolf?" Ginny supplied. "Honestly, Harry, what does all that matter? They're not that far apart in age, and as for the werewolf part, well, do you care that he's one?"

"Of course not!"

"Neither does she."

"I don't know," Ron mused. "I mean, let's be honest. Professor Lupin doesn't strike me as the romantic type. Don't you think that Tonks maybe should aim for someone a little more...responsive."

"That's probably half the intrigue for her," Ginny said wisely. She then shot Ron a mock look of surprise. "Never thought I'd hear you say something that actually takes some observational skills, Ronnie."

"Shows what you know," said Ron with a touch of embarrassment.

"It's probably just Hermione rubbing off on him some," Harry said.

"Probably," Ginny agreed. Ron shot her a look of venom that she ignored. "So are you two up for quidditch tomorrow? George and Fred's already agreed and I'm fairly confident I can win Charlie and Bill over to the idea."

"But doesn't that only make seven?" Harry asked.

"I was thinking about inviting Fleur to participate too. Mum says she's staying over tonight anyway, and it'd be nice if I had another girl out there for once."

"Well, you can count me out," Ron said, looking ill.

"Afraid that Fleur'll distract you with her veela charm and cause you to fall off your broom?" Ginny teased.

"Maybe," snapped Ron at her.

"But I thought you was over your fear of veelas, Ron" Harry said to his best friend, confused. "You seemed fine with her when I last saw her, at least."

"Yes, but that was before he saw her again and ran straight into a wall," said Ginny.

Harry had to chock down a laugh at the look on Ron's face.

"And that was only the first encounter," she continued. "Apparently when people with veela blood in them are feeling particularly amorous, which happens quite a bit when she's around Bill, their attractive charm becomes a bit sporadic, though it's really not that powerful. Dad, Fred, George, and Charlie aren't effected by it at least, but Ron, here, seems to be extra sensitive to it." Ginny patted Ron's back in false sympathy. "Must be those teenage hormones."

Ron's face was now as red as his hair, and Harry was having a hard time containing his laughter. It felt like a long time since he'd been this at ease, and Harry had to admire Ginny because of it. She really had turned his mood around. Now that he could notice it, there was more of the twins in her then he had originally thought. She had that same attractive ability of making people feel good no matter how horrible their moods are at the moment in the least. Come to think of it, she had really been there for him a lot last year, even during the Department of Mysteries incident. It made Harry feel very thankful that even through all the hell he had to endure during his fifth year, he had at least gained another friend from the ordeal.

It was about that time that Fred popped his head into the room, looking particularly mischievous. "Lunchtime, guys. Better get moving."

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