Disclaimer: I do not own HP.  I repeat, I do NOT own HP.  But, of course, you lot know this, right?  If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.

Chapter 14 – Tasting the Honey

"POTTER!"

"What's he…yawn…yelling about now?" grumbled Ethan sleepily as he rolled over on his cot.

Harry shrugged and got out of bed, going to the door of the boy's room clad in only his boxers.  He opened it and found himself staring up at his uncle.

"Oh…hello, Uncle.  Is something wrong?"

Vernon's face purpled and he pointed a finger down the hall towards the stairs.  "Those…those…REDHEADS…have come through the fireplace."

"Oh," said Harry.  "Er…give me a minute to get some clothes on…"

"Now, boy."

"Uncle," said Harry with a narrowing of his eyes, "I'm in my boxers."

Vernon leaned down and jabbed his finger at the wiry teen's bare chest, growling, "I don't care if your naked!  Get down there now."

"Okay, okay," said Harry, stepping back into the room to pull one of the sheets off his bed.  He wrapped it around himself as he stepped out into the hall, squeezing past his uncle.  The man's glare weighed on his back as he went down the stairs to greet the Weasley clan.

"Hello, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasley warmly as she saw him, bundling him up into a hug.  "What on earth are you doing in a sheet?"

"I just woke up," replied Harry, yawning.  "Uncle Vernon didn't give me a chance to get dressed."

Behind her mother, Ginny laughed and Harry scowled at her, tightening the sheet about himself.  Then he looked at Mrs. Weasley and asked, "And what are you all doing here?"

"Dumbledore said you and Snape could stay the rest of the week before term starts with us," replied Fred (or maybe that was George…).

Harry's face lit up and he cried, "That's great!  My relatives will be glad to get rid of the two of us."

"Don't tell me you got in trouble," said Ginny sternly, causing Harry to think be reminded of Hermione.

"No, Ethan did."  Harry looked at the twins and said, "Neither of you ever send me Canary Creams when Ethan is around."

"What'd he do?" asked the twins in unison, ignoring the glare their mother was sending them.

"Gave one to Dudley.  Uncle Vernon was as mad as a badger."  Harry didn't mention that he'd started to take off his belt but had stopped when he suddenly paled, as though remembering something horrifying.  Ethan and McGonagall (who was probably the reason Uncle Vernon had looked so appalled) already knew about the beatings he'd gotten from his uncle before.  He didn't want his friends to know too.

Though if his relationship with Ginny continued (provided he survived to graduate), she'd find out eventually.  If they stayed together, that was.  Harry didn't believe that he and Ginny would be together until they died or any other little dreams like that.  He had never truly ever gotten close to a person, not after being showed absolutely no love from his aunt and uncle.  Harry wasn't even sure if he knew what love was, having never been shown any in his life until he'd gotten to Hogwarts.  But really, not even then had he been shown love.  Friendship, yes, but love?  No.  Not yet.  He'd not really seen it yet and somewhere in his mind he wondered if it even existed.

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, "let's go up and get your things and be gone before your relatives notice."

"Too late," grumbled Harry, spotting Petunia and Dudley peering at them from behind the kitchen door.  He then waved the older woman on and trudged upstairs, ignoring his uncle as he moved past him.  When they reached the open door to his room, he turned to Mrs. Weasley and said, "Er…give me a minute to get Ethan up and – stuff."

Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at him and said, "You take all the time you need, dear.  I can wait."

Harry found her smile infectious and returned it before slinking into the room.  He eased the door shut then threw the sheet back onto the bed before he walked over to Ethan's cot.  Bending over, he grabbed the wooden legs at the head of the bed and shook them.

"Wha-wha-what?" said Ethan, sitting up and looking about wildly.  He frowned when he saw Harry and grumbled, "Why'd you wake me?  I was having a remarkable dream involving…"

"You say Hermione and, so help me, I'll deck you," said Harry.  "I really don't want to have that…aw bugger!"

"You did it to yourself," quipped Ethan, rolling out of the sleeping bag clad in boxers and a thin tank top.  "So, what's the early wake up call for?  By the way, stop thinking of Hermione that way.  I might have to deck you."

Harry scowled and lightly smacked the other boys head.  "The Weasley's are here."

"And this should mean what to me exactly?"

"They're here to take us back to the Burrow.  Dumbledore's letting us go."

"And here I thought we weren't supposed to leave Privet Drive," said Ethan as he rose and began to hunt for his jeans.

Harry shrugged then pulled Ethan's jeans out from under his bed and threw them at the other boy.

"Thanks.  How'd they get over there?"

"Maybe they crawled.  How much stuff did we take out of our trunks?"

Ethan frowned.  "Uh…all of it?"

"Oh bugger," moaned Harry.  "We've got some serious work to do."

"Yeah.  Especially as I plan to steal a few of those books."

"Be my guest," said Harry as he found his own blue jeans and pulled them on.  "Dudley doesn't read them, though I do."

"Any you don't want me to take?"

"Anything but Tolkein.  And those Stephen King one's.  I love those."

"Blast.  I'll need to borrow one of those."

"Long as you return it."

"Do I look like a snitching Slytherin to you?" declared Ethan, looking indignant.

Harry snorted and gave the other boy a Look.  "Shall I really answer that?" he asked with a laugh.

Ethan frowned.

"Er…no.  Don't answer that."

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Weasley poked her head in.

"Harry, are you ready?"

"No, Mrs. Weasley," replied Harry, jerking a shirt over his head, not caring if it was his or Ethan's.  He looked about the room, which was strew with books, socks, t-shirts, and various pairs of blue jeans.  "Not ready at all."

Mrs. Weasley peered into the room and exclaimed, "It's a pig sty!"

"Really?" said Ethan, looking around at the mess.  "I think it needs just a little bit of mud, some pigs, and perhaps a trough to get to that state."

Harry threw one of Ethan's shirts across the room at him then looked down at the shirt he was wearing.  It was one of Ethan's and had a large silver dragon on the front.

"That's my shirt, you know," remarked the other boy as he caught the shirt Harry had thrown at him and threw it into his trunk along with a handful of socks.

"And that's mine," pointed out Harry, gesturing at Ethan's shirt as he dumped a load of socks and boxers into his cauldron.  Ethan wrinkled his nose at that.

"Cauldron's are not meant to hold clothes."

"Your point?" asked Harry, not noticing Mrs. Weasley looking between the two boys as they bantered.

"My point is that cauldron's are not meant to hold your underwear!"

"Then explain to me why you just put your socks in yours."

Ethan blinked and looked down into his trunk.  Sure enough he had dumped his socks into his cauldron.

"Bugger."

"Gotcha."

"Oh shut up!" snapped Ethan, hurling Harry's first year Potions book across the room.  The other teen ducked then retrieved the book, tossing it into his trunk.  He then promptly sent Ethan's new Charms book across the room, which the other boy deftly caught and dumped into his trunk.

"Bugger."

"I am a Keeper, you know," pointed out Ethan, throwing a pair of blue jeans into his trunk followed by the roll of parchment that was all his homework and various papers.

"Shut up, you," grumbled Harry as he chucked an armful of his shirts into his trunk then moved over to the old desk that was piled with their new books (minus Ethan's Charms book) and various other supplies.  He hauled his books over to his trunk and dropped them in, carefully putting the new potions supplies in sectioned off box that he'd nailed into his trunk in his third year.

Ethan peered over his shoulder at this and said, "Ahhh.  So you do care."

Harry frowned and elbowed the other boy in the gut, jerking his head towards Mrs. Weasley and mouthing, "She doesn't know, you twit."

"I know that," mouth Ethan back with an annoyed look on his face.  He shoved a shirt in Harry's face and grumbled, "This is yours."

"Thanks," replied Harry.  "Now where's my Firebolt?"

"Uh…"

"Oh cripes…"  Harry turned and began to hurriedly paw under his bed.  "Help me find it!"

"Okay, okay.  You keep checking there and I'll look in the closet."

"Do you two need help?" asked Mrs. Weasley, taking a step into the room.

"I'm fine," came the muffled reply from under the bed.  Harry backed out, dust bunnies clinging to his hair accompanied by a tiny black cat.

"Mrow?"

Harry grimaced and reached up, pulling Medusa off of his head and dropping her onto the bed.  He brushed the dust bunnies from his hair then looked over at the closet as Ethan let out a cry and his arm extended out, the red Firebolt clenched in it.

"Yes!" cried Harry, rushing over to take the broom.  He carefully placed it in his trunk then went back to gathering up the rest of his clothes strewn about the room, which consisted of shirts and a pair of robes.

"May I ask what is so important about that broom?" said Ethan as he walked out of the closet.  "Besides it being a Firebolt, I mean."

"Snuffles gave it to me," replied Harry, throwing a shirt over his shoulder towards his trunk.  It got caught on the lid and hung there until Mrs. Weasley moved into the room and freed it, dropping it into the trunk.  Harry then picked up his robes, which apparently Medusa had decided to make a bed out of.  "Aww, Dusa!"

"Mrow?" said the cat, blinking innocently at her master.

"That's what you get when you keep a cat," quipped Ethan as he dropped his new books into his trunk.

"Heh," said Harry, glaring at his cat.  "Thanks, Dusa."

"Mrow."

"Cats," grumbled Harry, rolling the soiled robes into a ball and tossing them into his trunk.  Mrs. Weasley started to reach for them when the teen said, "Don't bother, Mrs. Weasley.  Everything in there needs to be washed anyway.  My aunt and uncle had been refusing to let us near the washer since Dusa got stuck in it."

"Why those…"  Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, at a loss for words and just shook her head.

"Its fine, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry with a shrug.  "We've managed.  Er, is that everything, Ethan?"

"'Cept for these books over here.  Give me just one moment…"

Ethan walked over to the three shelves lined with books, dragging his trunk after him, and began to throw book after book into it.  Harry followed him, grabbing the few books that he liked from the shelves and putting them in his own trunk.

"Won't they notice?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she watched Ethan continue to chunk book after book into his trunk.

"I doubt it," grunted Harry as he shut his trunk.  A yowl came from inside and he opened it again, reaching in to pull out Medusa.

"Mrow?"

"Crazy cat," he muttered, placing her on his shoulder as he closed his trunk.  The black cat yowled again and hopped onto his head, blinking her large eyes at Mrs. Weasley.

"Done," declared Ethan, closing his trunk and snapping the locks shut.

"Good," said Mrs. Weasley.  "I'll send Fred and George up here to help you two bring down your trunk's."

"Alright," said Harry, crossing to the desk as she left.  He opened the top drawer and took out two wands, tossing Ethan's his.  The other boy stuffed his at an angle into the front of his jeans while Harry stuck his in his back pocket.  As soon as he crossed back to his trunk, Fred and George appeared with wide grins on their faces.

"Ready to go?" they asked as one, Fred going to Harry and George to Ethan.

"Yes," replied the other two boys, both grabbing at one end of their trunk's while the twins grabbed the other.

"Okay.  One, two, three…heave!"

"Bloody 'ell, Ethan," gasped George as he and the green/black haired boy left the room.  "What did you put in here?"

"Books," replied Ethan with a smirk.  "Lots and lots of books."

"Seems I got the lucky trunk," quipped Fred as he and Harry followed, Medusa peering at the redhead curiously.  "Say, Harry, where'd you get the cat?"

"Hagrid sent her," replied Harry.  "Watch that step there, Fred."

"I got it.  She got a name?"

"Medusa."

Fred laughed at that and was still laughing when he and Harry reached the bottom of the stair.  Ron frowned at his brother and asked, "What's so funny?" as he turned away from watching Ethan and George pushed Ethan's trunk into the fireplace, sending it on to the Burrow.

"Harry called his cat Medusa!"

Ron and George both snorted at that while Mrs. Weasley and Ginny looked confused.

"Odd conversation in the common room," said Harry as he and Fred carried his trunk over to the fireplace.  "Don't worry about it."

Medusa yowled and suddenly leapt from Harry's bird's nest hair.  She only hit the floor once before she landed on Ginny's shoulder.  Her big almond eyes blinked and she rubbed her dark head against the girl's cheek, purring far too loudly for such a tiny creature.

"I think she likes you," said Harry with a smile as he and Fred sent his trunk off to the Burrow.  Ginny reached up to pat the cat's head, smiling at him.

Mrs. Weasley waved her hands at all of them and said, "Come now, let's get going."  She glanced up at the second floor and Harry turned, following her gave.  Vernon stood there, glowering at him, his beefy hands clenching the railing.  Harry sighed and shook his head as he turned away.

George, Ethan, Fred, and Ron disappeared into the fireplace first.  As Harry stepped into it, Medusa leapt from Ginny's shoulder and into his arms.  Before the Floo activated he moaned, "I hate Floo!!"  The last word was drawn out as he vanished from sight, Medusa letting out a long yowl that drowned out her master's voice.

In the Dursley's living room, Ginny and her mother looked at each other, smiling.  The two of them then stepped into the fireplace and were gone.