AN: I'm BAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!! Thanx for the votes!
You know, I think I forgot the disclaimer last time! Here goes.
Disclaimer: I own EVERYTHING! I am the Ultimate Supreme Ruler of the Universe and All Shall Bow Down and Fear Me! *evil laugh*
*cough* actually, I... don't... it's the sad truth and I know we all weep tears of sorrow and heartbreak and... er... yeah...
ON TO THE FIRST CHAPTER! Heigh HO!
ANN: can't u tell I've been eating candy??? AND the fact that my internet's been down has put me in a BAD mood.... soooo.... I'm hyper to make up for it.... Yup...
**Chapter ONE**
Harry squinted in the sudden sunlight and tried to make out the small shape he knew was making its unsteady way towards him. Just then, the clouds moved back over the sun and blocked out its bright glare once more. He sighed in relief, and his eyes finally managed to pick out the wobbling shape of a large owl flapping clumsily in the air. Harry winced momentarily as the owl accidentally crashed into a tree and got tangled up. Errol the owl could not be mistaken from a mile away at the rate he was going.
Eventually, the owl untangled itself and started to make its slow bobbing way over again. It was a good thing it was so early in the morning, despite the bright sunlight, or the Dursley's might have actually been awake.
Harry sighed.
It had been four days since his birthday and his 'SOS' owl to Hermione. Hermione hadn't replied, but it was possible she'd contacted Ron about the situation. Harry didn't know why he hadn't just sent Hermione's owl straight to Ron, but then he supposed sending it to Hermione might have been a better idea to begin with because Hermione was less likely to jump to conclusions. Ron, on the other hand, was more likely to immediately assume that Harry was on the verge of death and cause a riot trying to get him away from the Dursley's. Harry smiled as he thought over the varying reactions his friends would voice if they read the letter.
Hermione would probably try to look for double meanings in his every word that might hint at something more and then logically assume he was overreacting, or that he was in worse peril than he'd let on depending on what she'd come up with concerning his letter. Ron was more likely to cause a panic, as he'd just assumed, and—what about Ginny? Harry paused in his thinking and watched the owl get closer.
What about Ginny? He asked himself. He supposed she counted as a friend now. He fingered the medallion lying about his neck fondly and smiled. He'd have to have a long talk with her when he next got the chance. He mentally berated himself for letting her go after the Chamber incident and just forgetting about her. Unfortunately enough to say, because he hadn't tried to get to know her better, he had no idea what her reaction would be. He sighed and then moved to open the window for the rapidly approaching Errol.
The owl swooped clumsily into his room (surprising Harry when he didn't crash into the side of the house instead) and collapsed on his bed in an undignified heap. Harry quickly shut the window tightly and went to untie the letter attached to his leg. Harry set the owl upright on his bed post and apologized profoundly because he couldn't offer anything for the owl to eat or drink. From her cage Hedwig hooted in agreement. Errol opened a bleary eye and hooted condescendingly. Harry smiled at the owl and quickly broke the letter's seal.
Harry,
Hermione just contacted us. She told us that you wrote her a letter. We've got the letter now, is it really that bad? I bet it's all our fault, what with that Ton Tongue Toffee Fred and George fed your cousin last year! I'm sorry mate, we're going to get you out of there. Give it a couple of days. We showed Mum the letter and now she's frantically fire-calling Professor Dumbledore. I gotta go now and clean my room. We'll pick you up in two days time. I'll owl you with the exact times later.
Bye. Oh, and Fred and George want to write you something, dunno why...
Ron.
~~~~
Psst, Harry!
Thanks for the money mate, we owe you one, and as such (even though we would have told you later, we felt you needed cheering up) we name you a proud and honorary silent partner in the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes! We'll have a bank account set aside for you and you'll receive a fourth of the profits.
A very Merry Un-birthday to you.
Gred and Forge.
Harry smiled after reading the letter. He really didn't need to have any part in the WWW's; he'd have to talk to Fred and George. It was still nice of them to think of him anyhow. At least it looked like Ron hadn't overreacted. Maybe he'd matured a bit since last year. Harry almost laughed at the thought of a mature-acting Ronald Weasley.
Harry was rudely jerked out of his musings by a screeching voice echoing from downstairs. He sighed.
"Coming Aunt Petunia!" He yelled back.
***
The next two days were agony for Harry. At one point he'd had to confront his relatives about leaving, which had resulted in many arguments, threats, and red-faced Uncle Vernons. However, with the threat of Sirius to back him up, Harry'd eventually won and it was a grudging Vernon that watched a day later as Harry dragged his trunk out from under the stairs.
"I don't want to see hair or hide of you until I absolutely have to, got that boy!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry muttered through gritted teeth. He glared at his Uncle from underneath his fringe. However, Uncle Vernon must have seen it because he took a threatening step towards Harry.
"Don't you look at me like that boy!" He roared with his face starting to turn red. Harry, who'd had quite enough by now, was about to retort with something equally rude, when there was a loud bang and a flare of light from the living room. Vernon paled as three red haired, black cloaked shapes came tumbling out of the fireplace one by one. By the time the Weasleys had righted themselves, Vernon had regained his composure.
"How dare—!" He was the perfect image of a feral cat spitting in rage. Mr. Weasley cut in smoothly.
"Mr. Dursley. How do you do, we're here to collect Harry, so we'll just be on our way. Harry, ah! Here we are my boy, give me your trunk, I'll take that and..." He cut off as he noted Hedwig in her cage and the huge padlock on the cage door. He frowned. "What's this Harry?" he asked.
"Hi Harry!" Ron broke into their conversation and came over to slap him on the back in a friendly manner. Harry flinched when his hand made contact with his sore and burnt back. "Harry?"
"Harry?"
"..." Harry didn't want to say anything in front of his uncle. He especially didn't want to accuse him of something right in front of him, or he'd have hell next summer.
"I-it's a padlock..."
"Yes, I can see that Harry, but why have you padlocked your owl in her cage, it's cruel." Mr. Weasley frowned.
"Harry wouldn't do something like that dad!" Piped up a voice and Harry peered around Mr. Weasley and a concerned Ron to spot Ginny Weasley scowling with her hands on her hips.
"I know that dear, but Hedwig's Harry's owl so... " he trailed off and sighed. "We'll discuss this later. Ron, help Harry with his trunk." With that, Mr. Weasley picked up Hedwig's cage and brought her over to where Ginny was standing. Vernon still stood exactly where they'd left him with his mouth opening and closing angrily but not making a sound. Ron gave Harry one more concerned glance before picking up one end of the trunk; Harry picked up the other.
When all of Harry's things were safely lodged in the Dursley's fireplace Harry too stepped into the still-roaring green flames.
"Recon you'll need a bit more Floo powder, don't you?" Mr. Weasley remarked and fished out a small handful of green powder from his robe. "Here you are Harry," he said, handing it to Harry, "it's the Burrow, if you remember." Harry nodded his understanding and threw the powder down by his feet before shouting out the Burrow. In a flare of green flames, he was gone.
"There, Ginny you're next; let's give him a minute to get his things out of the way." Mr. Weasley muttered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry stumbled out of the Weasley's fireplace and into the concerned arms of Mrs. Weasley. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry barely registered Fred and George removing Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, before he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug. Not expecting the painful hug Harry didn't quite manage to mask the small whimper of pain from his burns. He soon found himself at arms length and being scrutinized like no other.
Harry was saved from Mrs. Weasley's interrogation by the flaring of the fireplace and a certain Ginny Weasley. She came shooting out and collided with Harry and with a great 'Oof' they both went down, almost bringing Mrs. Weasley with them. Seconds later Ron too joined their growing dog pile. Harry had to bit his lip to keep from crying out at the pain from Ginny's body rubbing at his cloths and his burns. He blushed furiously when he realized the compromising position they were both in.
"Ron! Gerrof!" Harry spluttered out through crushed lungs. Ron groaned and levered himself off the pile.
"You should have mo—" He scolded and then trailed off when he saw Harry's red face and Ginny's inches from it. He gaped and then started laughing. Ginny scrambled up hastily and leveled such a glare at her brother that it could have raised the dead.
"Ronald Weasley!" She shrieked, "Shut your bloody trap!" She whirled on her feet and stalked up the stairs in a huff—face a flaming red the entire time. Ron made a face at her back before bending down to help Harry up.
"Nice mate." He joked, clapping Harry on the shoulder for the second time that day. And for the second time that day, Harry couldn't help but wince. Ron's face quickly changed to one of concern.
"That's twice now, what's wrong? Hurt yourself? I bet it was those lousy Dursleys!"
"Indeed Harry. Explanations please." Mr. Weasley appeared with a pop, looking a little worse for wear. "Ghastly muggle man." He shuddered. Harry wondered briefly what Vernon Dursley had tried to do before he was surrounded by concerned but determined faces.
"Uh..." he tried. Mrs. Weasley grasped him and steered him into the living room and sat him down on the couch.
"Harry dear, you send us an urgent letter, your owl is padlocked in her cage, you look rather underfed, and you seem to be hurt in some way, there MUST be something wrong!" Mrs. Weasley was slowly getting more and more heated up and there was a dangerous glint in her eye as examined him with a critical eye. Harry seriously felt very sorry for the Dursleys.
"Well, uh... " he trailed off, not sure whether he should tell them about the dreams and his scar—no, they'd probably panic, he reasoned. That, and he didn't really want the whole Weasley family to know what his relatives were really like. "Well, I, er... " he tried again.
Fred and George got up abruptly.
"Well, see you around Harry." And with that they exited the room and tramped up the stairs. Harry blinked at their sudden departure. Now it was only Ron and his parents in the room. He sighed, here goes nothing.
"Uncle Vernon locked Hedwig in her cage. She was starving, I had to do something. And he locked my school things under the stairs, including my wand—what if something had happened? I wouldn't have been able to defend myself. And the food you gave me from last summer was pretty much gone." And I've been having dreams of Voldemort, nightmares from which I always wake with a bleeding scar. And my back's burnt to a crisp, that's hardly good. I hear you can get cancer. I think I'm dehydrated, and I'm most certainly malnourished—but that's nothing new. Uncle Vernon didn't look too inclined to let me go back to school, and Dudley's been worse that ever. It hurts twice as much when he manages to punch me because of my burns, and I'm exhausted. Yup, that's about it. Harry kept his mouth shut however, and kept his gaze down. Mrs. Weasley did a remarkable impersonation of Professor McGonagall right then as her lips thinned and her face tightened.
"Well," she managed, "we'll have to remedy all that. I'll need to look at your back though dear. You're not getting off that easily." She stared at him pointedly and he looked up at her horrified. He quickly shot a pleading look to Ron, but he just raised his eyebrow and nodded his head in agreement with his mother. Harry groaned and started to pull off his shirt—seeing how he might as well get it over with—but couldn't because his shirt seemed stuck to his back.
Harry hadn't tried taking his shirt off before, and the one he was wearing was at least a week old. His Aunt hadn't told him to take it off because he was 'getting it dirty' for the past week, and so he hadn't. That was always the excuse she used to make him take off his shirt and get burnt. She seemed to take some sort of cruel delight in seeing him suffer.
"Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, instantly loosing all her previous ferocity. He gave her a small smile to pacify her.
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley, really, why don't we do this later?" He asked hopefully. Molly Weasley frowned and shook her head with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like 'boys.'
Before Harry had realized what was happening, Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand and made a sharp gesture with it. Harry held in a gasp of pain and bit his lip so hard it bleed as his shirt began to squirm and wiggle its way off his back. As the shirt unstuck quite painfully from his back, he thanked whatever gods were out there that Dudley WAS so big and his shirts WERE oversized. A strangled yelp from a certain Mrs. Weasley brought Harry back down to his painful existence with a crash.
"Oh my! It's so... so... red! You've burnt it terribly Harry! It's peeling in strips, look at it, oh! I—I'll be right back!" She shot up from her seat and dashed out of the room, and Harry felt the atmosphere seem to freeze. He looked up slowly to find both Ron and Mr. Weasley staring at him and his back in surprise. Harry noted Ron kept wincing. Suddenly he broke the silence.
"What's that?" Ron fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Harry blinked.
"What's what?"
"That." He nodded at something on Harry's chest, and Harry glanced down quickly to see what the problem was. All he saw was that medallion Ginny had given him. Speaking of the devil, a squeak alerted everyone to her presence on the stairs. A clattering could be heard as she rushed down the stairs and into the living room.
"Oh my God!" she screamed, "what happened!?" She demanded.
"Sunburn." Harry almost shrugged nonchalantly, but caught himself in time. Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"That may be so..." she began to hiss but stopped when she noticed her medallion around Harry's neck. He watched curiously as the words died on her lips and she flushed crimson.
"Er, what?"
"You're...um...the..." She trailed off and bit her lip and Harry became more confused by the minute. He'd NEVER understand girls.
"Mate, what's the necklace thingy." Ron interrupted their interesting exchange. Harry blinked.
"This?" He held up the medallion. Ron nodded affirmatively. Ginny blushed even harder.
"I'm not sure what it is, but I think it's nice." He smiled at Ginny and Ron followed his gaze to his blushing sister and realization dawned. He formed an O with his mouth and then grinned wickedly.
"Aw, did Widdle Ginny get Harry a Birthday present? I'd wondered where Pig'd gone you know." He taunted.
"Ron." Mr. Weasley warned. Ron paid him no heed.
"Someone has a cru—ush!" He said in a singsong voice. If it were possible, Ginny's blush deepened tenfold.
"I do NOT!" She shrieked, and Harry couldn't help feel that Ron had crossed an invisible and forbidden line. He tried to pacify them both.
"Of course you don't Gin, alright Ron? She's just a friend, okay?" He sighed; they were now glaring at each other. Ron turned his head slightly to smirk at Harry.
"Really now? So tell me then, what's with the pet names? No one's EVER been aloud to call Ginny 'Gin' before—oh wait, it seems you're the exception, I wonder why?" His smirk turned into a full blown grin. "Harry and Ginny sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—!" He was cut off by a small cough.
"Ron, Ginny, please stop this fighting and—" Mr. Weasley didn't get very far before...
SLAP!
Ron put a jerky hand up to his face with a startled expression. Harry winced. There was a big red hand mark imprinted on his cheek. Ginny retracted her hand hurriedly, whirled around, and ran out the door—but not before a small sob escaped her. Mr. Weasley sighed.
"Well Ronald, I hope you're pleased with yourself. You really could have handled that much better—and drawing young Harry into it as well."
"And YOU could have handled THAT much better as well!" Mrs. Weasley stalked into the room, a small pot in one hand and a bottle in the other. Mr. Weasley gave her a startled look, like a deer caught in the headlights before excusing himself quickly and escaping the room.
"Er, sorry Mum, and you too Harry. Dad's right. Um, and about the pet name crack...and the Kissing thing, just a joke, honest. Um, I'll just be going now..." Ron trailed off and then made a run for the door, but not before Mrs. Weasley froze him with her glare.
"You'll do no such thing young man! You'll march straight up those stairs and apologize to your sister right now!"
"Oh, but Mu-um!"
"Don't you 'But Mum' me!" She exclaimed shrilly, and Ron nodded his head and bid a hasty retreat. Mrs. Weasley turned and Harry shrank back in alarm. He relaxed, albeit nervously, when she smiled at him encouragingly.
"Oh, I don't blame you Harry dear. Sometimes I wish Ron would be just a little more mature, but alas, wishful thinking I suppose...Now, let me see that back of yours."
Mrs. Weasley had him drink the Numbing potion before she got to work on his back with the healing salve she'd brought. The Numbing potion worked wonders, though afterwards Harry could barely feel his fingers and toes, let alone move them or the limbs they were attached to.
First Mrs. Weasley had him lay down, and then she applied the salve with a firm but gentle hand. Despite the pain numbing potion before hand her fingers still sent a soothing sensation all up his back and Harry soon felt himself drift off into a peaceful sleep with pleasant and comforting dreams.
~*~
Hermione arrived the day after next, and Harry's vacation couldn't have gotten any better. For once he actually enjoyed homework, even with Hermione hanging over his shoulder half the time telling him he was doing it wrong. Ron would grumble and eventually end up lying in front of a warm fire in the evenings with the rest of them, with their books and parchment scattered about them, chatting and exchanging notes.
During the day you wouldn't find them inside for even a minute. The Weasley's had quite extensive grounds, even if they were untidy, and it was fun to sit in the grass sucking lollies and talking. These days were occasionally interrupted by a quick game of Quidditch here and there, with Hermione sitting reading off to the side in the shade of the trees.
Sometimes Ginny would join them. She made a good chaser. She was also quite fun to talk to and an all around good friend. Other times it was just the three of them—the Famous Trio.
One such day found the three of them—Ginny included—sitting under the shade of a drooping tree and sharing a tub of ice cream between themselves. At the moment Harry had the tub and he quickly spooned out a huge clump of ice cream and began licking it thoughtfully before passing it to Ron. He noted absently that the medallion was a cool weight against his hot skin. He frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was NEVER hot. That got him thinking.
"Hey Hermione." He broke silence, and she jerked her head up from where it was bent over the ice cream tub.
"Yes Harry?" She asked quizzically. Ron and Ginny also looked up; Ron from his ant-squishing, and Ginny from her grass-weaving. Harry fiddled with the medallion beneath his shirt for a moment before pulling it out. He held it up to the light and it spun on its chain enchantingly. Hermione scooted closer to get a better look.
"How curious..." she murmured. Harry cleared his throat, and she pulled her head away from the spinning trinket. "Yes?" she asked.
"It's this. Ginny gave it to me," here Ginny blushed once more and Ron grinned, remembering their exchange that first day, "I forgot till now, but there's some curious runes on it, and some Latin that I can't quiet make out. Do you know what it means, the Runes' I mean. I know you take Ancient Runes, right? So you must know." He finished by handing the medallion to her and she sat up, licking her spoon with raised eyebrows.
"Harry James Potter," she began, and Harry groaned. She was using what he and Ron had come to identify as her 'lecturing' tone. She finished licking the last drops of melted ice cream off her spoon and set it in her lap, "do you have ANY idea how many runes there ARE? Just imagine, a rune set for practically every ancient language, and a Rune in that set for every meaning and every word! Do you honestly expect me to KNOW that many?" She shook her head and sighed condescendingly. Ginny giggled and propped herself up on her elbows to better view Hermione's tongue-lashing.
"Take ancient Gnomish for instance." She continued, now completely oblivious to her surroundings, "why, not only do they have runes for every noun and verb and particle, but you also must memorize the combinations of the different runes that come to mean something completely different from the combined base runes. Then there's sentence structure—" She gave an indignant huff as Ron cut her off.
"Yes yes, we get it, why don't you get to the point?" he turned away to dig at the almost empty and sticky ice cream tub in time to miss her glare.
"Fine!" She snapped, "First, we'll have to identify what language it is...which could possibly take a very long time. Then we have to find out whether it's a base rune or a combination. If it's a combination then we must find its base runes and if it's particularly complicated, it could have more than two or three bases..." She trailed off thinking.
"Er, 'Mione? Why don't you just find out which language and look it up in a dictionary?" Harry offered his simple yet effective solution. Hermione sighed condescendingly and tisked.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," she said sadly, "You obviously do not realize how most Rune dictionaries are arranged. It's all well and good if you are familiar with the language, but if your not it could take days. Dictionaries are arranged by bases and then you have to look up the meanings of the bases and combine the meanings and look up that combination to find out the combined meaning that creates that rune. Because there are so many runes and so many combinations the dictionaries are HUGE...sometimes there are even MULTIPLE dictionaries..." she trailed off again and grabbed for the ice cream.
"Well, can't you try? Maybe we'll get lucky." Harry pleaded. Hermione sighed.
"Oh, all right, but, if we're not, then I don't want you bugging me about it until we reach Hogwarts where I'm sure Madame Pince has all the dictionaries we need. I only have a few minor ones with the most common runes for only a few languages. So if it's not recognizable, then you'll have to deal." He set down her once again empty spoon and held up the medallion. They all watched her closely for any signs of recognition.
At first it seemed like she might know the rune, but then her face drew together into a pensive frown. Their smiles fell as her frown quickly turned to confusion, and then came back when her expression cleared only to fall back when she frowned again. Finally they could take the suspense no longer.
"Oh bloody hell! Tell us already!" Ron exploded. Hermione's frown deepened and her eyes snapped up to meet his.
"Ron, mind your language!" She snapped, "and as for the rune, good news and bad." She cleared her throat and they all leaned in expectantly. "I think I know the language—" They all cheered, cutting off what she was about to say. She cleared her throat again and silence fell. Harry wondered briefly why they were making such a big deal out of it all, but then shrugged inwardly and tuned his ears to what Hermione was about to say next.
"The rune's rather complicated. I'd say a minimum of four bases and if it's the language I think it is, then I only have a minor dictionary of it, not enough to determine its meaning. So we'll have to wait. I can probably get started determining some of the minor bases, but that's it. That's only if—IF--it's the language I think it is...a very powerful language..." She murmured the last as if to herself, but Harry caught it anyway.
For the rest of that particular day they talked nothing of the medallion, though anyone with a brain could see the thoughtful expressions on their faces which remained permently fixed there for the rest of the week.
*****
AN: Okie Dokie! I think that's a good leave off point! So, whadaya think???
DID I KEEP THEM IN CHARACTER???????? TELL MEEEEEEE!!!!!
Um, yeah. Btw, srry for the wait. I had SEVERE writer's block for a few weeks concerning ALL my stories!!!! It was SO frustrating. I got probably two sentences until now!
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________________________________________________________ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
^.^; Yeah....plz review.
Disclaimer: I own EVERYTHING! I am the Ultimate Supreme Ruler of the Universe and All Shall Bow Down and Fear Me! *evil laugh*
*cough* actually, I... don't... it's the sad truth and I know we all weep tears of sorrow and heartbreak and... er... yeah...
ON TO THE FIRST CHAPTER! Heigh HO!
ANN: can't u tell I've been eating candy??? AND the fact that my internet's been down has put me in a BAD mood.... soooo.... I'm hyper to make up for it.... Yup...
**Chapter ONE**
Harry squinted in the sudden sunlight and tried to make out the small shape he knew was making its unsteady way towards him. Just then, the clouds moved back over the sun and blocked out its bright glare once more. He sighed in relief, and his eyes finally managed to pick out the wobbling shape of a large owl flapping clumsily in the air. Harry winced momentarily as the owl accidentally crashed into a tree and got tangled up. Errol the owl could not be mistaken from a mile away at the rate he was going.
Eventually, the owl untangled itself and started to make its slow bobbing way over again. It was a good thing it was so early in the morning, despite the bright sunlight, or the Dursley's might have actually been awake.
Harry sighed.
It had been four days since his birthday and his 'SOS' owl to Hermione. Hermione hadn't replied, but it was possible she'd contacted Ron about the situation. Harry didn't know why he hadn't just sent Hermione's owl straight to Ron, but then he supposed sending it to Hermione might have been a better idea to begin with because Hermione was less likely to jump to conclusions. Ron, on the other hand, was more likely to immediately assume that Harry was on the verge of death and cause a riot trying to get him away from the Dursley's. Harry smiled as he thought over the varying reactions his friends would voice if they read the letter.
Hermione would probably try to look for double meanings in his every word that might hint at something more and then logically assume he was overreacting, or that he was in worse peril than he'd let on depending on what she'd come up with concerning his letter. Ron was more likely to cause a panic, as he'd just assumed, and—what about Ginny? Harry paused in his thinking and watched the owl get closer.
What about Ginny? He asked himself. He supposed she counted as a friend now. He fingered the medallion lying about his neck fondly and smiled. He'd have to have a long talk with her when he next got the chance. He mentally berated himself for letting her go after the Chamber incident and just forgetting about her. Unfortunately enough to say, because he hadn't tried to get to know her better, he had no idea what her reaction would be. He sighed and then moved to open the window for the rapidly approaching Errol.
The owl swooped clumsily into his room (surprising Harry when he didn't crash into the side of the house instead) and collapsed on his bed in an undignified heap. Harry quickly shut the window tightly and went to untie the letter attached to his leg. Harry set the owl upright on his bed post and apologized profoundly because he couldn't offer anything for the owl to eat or drink. From her cage Hedwig hooted in agreement. Errol opened a bleary eye and hooted condescendingly. Harry smiled at the owl and quickly broke the letter's seal.
Harry,
Hermione just contacted us. She told us that you wrote her a letter. We've got the letter now, is it really that bad? I bet it's all our fault, what with that Ton Tongue Toffee Fred and George fed your cousin last year! I'm sorry mate, we're going to get you out of there. Give it a couple of days. We showed Mum the letter and now she's frantically fire-calling Professor Dumbledore. I gotta go now and clean my room. We'll pick you up in two days time. I'll owl you with the exact times later.
Bye. Oh, and Fred and George want to write you something, dunno why...
Ron.
~~~~
Psst, Harry!
Thanks for the money mate, we owe you one, and as such (even though we would have told you later, we felt you needed cheering up) we name you a proud and honorary silent partner in the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes! We'll have a bank account set aside for you and you'll receive a fourth of the profits.
A very Merry Un-birthday to you.
Gred and Forge.
Harry smiled after reading the letter. He really didn't need to have any part in the WWW's; he'd have to talk to Fred and George. It was still nice of them to think of him anyhow. At least it looked like Ron hadn't overreacted. Maybe he'd matured a bit since last year. Harry almost laughed at the thought of a mature-acting Ronald Weasley.
Harry was rudely jerked out of his musings by a screeching voice echoing from downstairs. He sighed.
"Coming Aunt Petunia!" He yelled back.
***
The next two days were agony for Harry. At one point he'd had to confront his relatives about leaving, which had resulted in many arguments, threats, and red-faced Uncle Vernons. However, with the threat of Sirius to back him up, Harry'd eventually won and it was a grudging Vernon that watched a day later as Harry dragged his trunk out from under the stairs.
"I don't want to see hair or hide of you until I absolutely have to, got that boy!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry muttered through gritted teeth. He glared at his Uncle from underneath his fringe. However, Uncle Vernon must have seen it because he took a threatening step towards Harry.
"Don't you look at me like that boy!" He roared with his face starting to turn red. Harry, who'd had quite enough by now, was about to retort with something equally rude, when there was a loud bang and a flare of light from the living room. Vernon paled as three red haired, black cloaked shapes came tumbling out of the fireplace one by one. By the time the Weasleys had righted themselves, Vernon had regained his composure.
"How dare—!" He was the perfect image of a feral cat spitting in rage. Mr. Weasley cut in smoothly.
"Mr. Dursley. How do you do, we're here to collect Harry, so we'll just be on our way. Harry, ah! Here we are my boy, give me your trunk, I'll take that and..." He cut off as he noted Hedwig in her cage and the huge padlock on the cage door. He frowned. "What's this Harry?" he asked.
"Hi Harry!" Ron broke into their conversation and came over to slap him on the back in a friendly manner. Harry flinched when his hand made contact with his sore and burnt back. "Harry?"
"Harry?"
"..." Harry didn't want to say anything in front of his uncle. He especially didn't want to accuse him of something right in front of him, or he'd have hell next summer.
"I-it's a padlock..."
"Yes, I can see that Harry, but why have you padlocked your owl in her cage, it's cruel." Mr. Weasley frowned.
"Harry wouldn't do something like that dad!" Piped up a voice and Harry peered around Mr. Weasley and a concerned Ron to spot Ginny Weasley scowling with her hands on her hips.
"I know that dear, but Hedwig's Harry's owl so... " he trailed off and sighed. "We'll discuss this later. Ron, help Harry with his trunk." With that, Mr. Weasley picked up Hedwig's cage and brought her over to where Ginny was standing. Vernon still stood exactly where they'd left him with his mouth opening and closing angrily but not making a sound. Ron gave Harry one more concerned glance before picking up one end of the trunk; Harry picked up the other.
When all of Harry's things were safely lodged in the Dursley's fireplace Harry too stepped into the still-roaring green flames.
"Recon you'll need a bit more Floo powder, don't you?" Mr. Weasley remarked and fished out a small handful of green powder from his robe. "Here you are Harry," he said, handing it to Harry, "it's the Burrow, if you remember." Harry nodded his understanding and threw the powder down by his feet before shouting out the Burrow. In a flare of green flames, he was gone.
"There, Ginny you're next; let's give him a minute to get his things out of the way." Mr. Weasley muttered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry stumbled out of the Weasley's fireplace and into the concerned arms of Mrs. Weasley. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry barely registered Fred and George removing Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, before he was enveloped in a bone crushing hug. Not expecting the painful hug Harry didn't quite manage to mask the small whimper of pain from his burns. He soon found himself at arms length and being scrutinized like no other.
Harry was saved from Mrs. Weasley's interrogation by the flaring of the fireplace and a certain Ginny Weasley. She came shooting out and collided with Harry and with a great 'Oof' they both went down, almost bringing Mrs. Weasley with them. Seconds later Ron too joined their growing dog pile. Harry had to bit his lip to keep from crying out at the pain from Ginny's body rubbing at his cloths and his burns. He blushed furiously when he realized the compromising position they were both in.
"Ron! Gerrof!" Harry spluttered out through crushed lungs. Ron groaned and levered himself off the pile.
"You should have mo—" He scolded and then trailed off when he saw Harry's red face and Ginny's inches from it. He gaped and then started laughing. Ginny scrambled up hastily and leveled such a glare at her brother that it could have raised the dead.
"Ronald Weasley!" She shrieked, "Shut your bloody trap!" She whirled on her feet and stalked up the stairs in a huff—face a flaming red the entire time. Ron made a face at her back before bending down to help Harry up.
"Nice mate." He joked, clapping Harry on the shoulder for the second time that day. And for the second time that day, Harry couldn't help but wince. Ron's face quickly changed to one of concern.
"That's twice now, what's wrong? Hurt yourself? I bet it was those lousy Dursleys!"
"Indeed Harry. Explanations please." Mr. Weasley appeared with a pop, looking a little worse for wear. "Ghastly muggle man." He shuddered. Harry wondered briefly what Vernon Dursley had tried to do before he was surrounded by concerned but determined faces.
"Uh..." he tried. Mrs. Weasley grasped him and steered him into the living room and sat him down on the couch.
"Harry dear, you send us an urgent letter, your owl is padlocked in her cage, you look rather underfed, and you seem to be hurt in some way, there MUST be something wrong!" Mrs. Weasley was slowly getting more and more heated up and there was a dangerous glint in her eye as examined him with a critical eye. Harry seriously felt very sorry for the Dursleys.
"Well, uh... " he trailed off, not sure whether he should tell them about the dreams and his scar—no, they'd probably panic, he reasoned. That, and he didn't really want the whole Weasley family to know what his relatives were really like. "Well, I, er... " he tried again.
Fred and George got up abruptly.
"Well, see you around Harry." And with that they exited the room and tramped up the stairs. Harry blinked at their sudden departure. Now it was only Ron and his parents in the room. He sighed, here goes nothing.
"Uncle Vernon locked Hedwig in her cage. She was starving, I had to do something. And he locked my school things under the stairs, including my wand—what if something had happened? I wouldn't have been able to defend myself. And the food you gave me from last summer was pretty much gone." And I've been having dreams of Voldemort, nightmares from which I always wake with a bleeding scar. And my back's burnt to a crisp, that's hardly good. I hear you can get cancer. I think I'm dehydrated, and I'm most certainly malnourished—but that's nothing new. Uncle Vernon didn't look too inclined to let me go back to school, and Dudley's been worse that ever. It hurts twice as much when he manages to punch me because of my burns, and I'm exhausted. Yup, that's about it. Harry kept his mouth shut however, and kept his gaze down. Mrs. Weasley did a remarkable impersonation of Professor McGonagall right then as her lips thinned and her face tightened.
"Well," she managed, "we'll have to remedy all that. I'll need to look at your back though dear. You're not getting off that easily." She stared at him pointedly and he looked up at her horrified. He quickly shot a pleading look to Ron, but he just raised his eyebrow and nodded his head in agreement with his mother. Harry groaned and started to pull off his shirt—seeing how he might as well get it over with—but couldn't because his shirt seemed stuck to his back.
Harry hadn't tried taking his shirt off before, and the one he was wearing was at least a week old. His Aunt hadn't told him to take it off because he was 'getting it dirty' for the past week, and so he hadn't. That was always the excuse she used to make him take off his shirt and get burnt. She seemed to take some sort of cruel delight in seeing him suffer.
"Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, instantly loosing all her previous ferocity. He gave her a small smile to pacify her.
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley, really, why don't we do this later?" He asked hopefully. Molly Weasley frowned and shook her head with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like 'boys.'
Before Harry had realized what was happening, Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand and made a sharp gesture with it. Harry held in a gasp of pain and bit his lip so hard it bleed as his shirt began to squirm and wiggle its way off his back. As the shirt unstuck quite painfully from his back, he thanked whatever gods were out there that Dudley WAS so big and his shirts WERE oversized. A strangled yelp from a certain Mrs. Weasley brought Harry back down to his painful existence with a crash.
"Oh my! It's so... so... red! You've burnt it terribly Harry! It's peeling in strips, look at it, oh! I—I'll be right back!" She shot up from her seat and dashed out of the room, and Harry felt the atmosphere seem to freeze. He looked up slowly to find both Ron and Mr. Weasley staring at him and his back in surprise. Harry noted Ron kept wincing. Suddenly he broke the silence.
"What's that?" Ron fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Harry blinked.
"What's what?"
"That." He nodded at something on Harry's chest, and Harry glanced down quickly to see what the problem was. All he saw was that medallion Ginny had given him. Speaking of the devil, a squeak alerted everyone to her presence on the stairs. A clattering could be heard as she rushed down the stairs and into the living room.
"Oh my God!" she screamed, "what happened!?" She demanded.
"Sunburn." Harry almost shrugged nonchalantly, but caught himself in time. Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously.
"That may be so..." she began to hiss but stopped when she noticed her medallion around Harry's neck. He watched curiously as the words died on her lips and she flushed crimson.
"Er, what?"
"You're...um...the..." She trailed off and bit her lip and Harry became more confused by the minute. He'd NEVER understand girls.
"Mate, what's the necklace thingy." Ron interrupted their interesting exchange. Harry blinked.
"This?" He held up the medallion. Ron nodded affirmatively. Ginny blushed even harder.
"I'm not sure what it is, but I think it's nice." He smiled at Ginny and Ron followed his gaze to his blushing sister and realization dawned. He formed an O with his mouth and then grinned wickedly.
"Aw, did Widdle Ginny get Harry a Birthday present? I'd wondered where Pig'd gone you know." He taunted.
"Ron." Mr. Weasley warned. Ron paid him no heed.
"Someone has a cru—ush!" He said in a singsong voice. If it were possible, Ginny's blush deepened tenfold.
"I do NOT!" She shrieked, and Harry couldn't help feel that Ron had crossed an invisible and forbidden line. He tried to pacify them both.
"Of course you don't Gin, alright Ron? She's just a friend, okay?" He sighed; they were now glaring at each other. Ron turned his head slightly to smirk at Harry.
"Really now? So tell me then, what's with the pet names? No one's EVER been aloud to call Ginny 'Gin' before—oh wait, it seems you're the exception, I wonder why?" His smirk turned into a full blown grin. "Harry and Ginny sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G—!" He was cut off by a small cough.
"Ron, Ginny, please stop this fighting and—" Mr. Weasley didn't get very far before...
SLAP!
Ron put a jerky hand up to his face with a startled expression. Harry winced. There was a big red hand mark imprinted on his cheek. Ginny retracted her hand hurriedly, whirled around, and ran out the door—but not before a small sob escaped her. Mr. Weasley sighed.
"Well Ronald, I hope you're pleased with yourself. You really could have handled that much better—and drawing young Harry into it as well."
"And YOU could have handled THAT much better as well!" Mrs. Weasley stalked into the room, a small pot in one hand and a bottle in the other. Mr. Weasley gave her a startled look, like a deer caught in the headlights before excusing himself quickly and escaping the room.
"Er, sorry Mum, and you too Harry. Dad's right. Um, and about the pet name crack...and the Kissing thing, just a joke, honest. Um, I'll just be going now..." Ron trailed off and then made a run for the door, but not before Mrs. Weasley froze him with her glare.
"You'll do no such thing young man! You'll march straight up those stairs and apologize to your sister right now!"
"Oh, but Mu-um!"
"Don't you 'But Mum' me!" She exclaimed shrilly, and Ron nodded his head and bid a hasty retreat. Mrs. Weasley turned and Harry shrank back in alarm. He relaxed, albeit nervously, when she smiled at him encouragingly.
"Oh, I don't blame you Harry dear. Sometimes I wish Ron would be just a little more mature, but alas, wishful thinking I suppose...Now, let me see that back of yours."
Mrs. Weasley had him drink the Numbing potion before she got to work on his back with the healing salve she'd brought. The Numbing potion worked wonders, though afterwards Harry could barely feel his fingers and toes, let alone move them or the limbs they were attached to.
First Mrs. Weasley had him lay down, and then she applied the salve with a firm but gentle hand. Despite the pain numbing potion before hand her fingers still sent a soothing sensation all up his back and Harry soon felt himself drift off into a peaceful sleep with pleasant and comforting dreams.
~*~
Hermione arrived the day after next, and Harry's vacation couldn't have gotten any better. For once he actually enjoyed homework, even with Hermione hanging over his shoulder half the time telling him he was doing it wrong. Ron would grumble and eventually end up lying in front of a warm fire in the evenings with the rest of them, with their books and parchment scattered about them, chatting and exchanging notes.
During the day you wouldn't find them inside for even a minute. The Weasley's had quite extensive grounds, even if they were untidy, and it was fun to sit in the grass sucking lollies and talking. These days were occasionally interrupted by a quick game of Quidditch here and there, with Hermione sitting reading off to the side in the shade of the trees.
Sometimes Ginny would join them. She made a good chaser. She was also quite fun to talk to and an all around good friend. Other times it was just the three of them—the Famous Trio.
One such day found the three of them—Ginny included—sitting under the shade of a drooping tree and sharing a tub of ice cream between themselves. At the moment Harry had the tub and he quickly spooned out a huge clump of ice cream and began licking it thoughtfully before passing it to Ron. He noted absently that the medallion was a cool weight against his hot skin. He frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was NEVER hot. That got him thinking.
"Hey Hermione." He broke silence, and she jerked her head up from where it was bent over the ice cream tub.
"Yes Harry?" She asked quizzically. Ron and Ginny also looked up; Ron from his ant-squishing, and Ginny from her grass-weaving. Harry fiddled with the medallion beneath his shirt for a moment before pulling it out. He held it up to the light and it spun on its chain enchantingly. Hermione scooted closer to get a better look.
"How curious..." she murmured. Harry cleared his throat, and she pulled her head away from the spinning trinket. "Yes?" she asked.
"It's this. Ginny gave it to me," here Ginny blushed once more and Ron grinned, remembering their exchange that first day, "I forgot till now, but there's some curious runes on it, and some Latin that I can't quiet make out. Do you know what it means, the Runes' I mean. I know you take Ancient Runes, right? So you must know." He finished by handing the medallion to her and she sat up, licking her spoon with raised eyebrows.
"Harry James Potter," she began, and Harry groaned. She was using what he and Ron had come to identify as her 'lecturing' tone. She finished licking the last drops of melted ice cream off her spoon and set it in her lap, "do you have ANY idea how many runes there ARE? Just imagine, a rune set for practically every ancient language, and a Rune in that set for every meaning and every word! Do you honestly expect me to KNOW that many?" She shook her head and sighed condescendingly. Ginny giggled and propped herself up on her elbows to better view Hermione's tongue-lashing.
"Take ancient Gnomish for instance." She continued, now completely oblivious to her surroundings, "why, not only do they have runes for every noun and verb and particle, but you also must memorize the combinations of the different runes that come to mean something completely different from the combined base runes. Then there's sentence structure—" She gave an indignant huff as Ron cut her off.
"Yes yes, we get it, why don't you get to the point?" he turned away to dig at the almost empty and sticky ice cream tub in time to miss her glare.
"Fine!" She snapped, "First, we'll have to identify what language it is...which could possibly take a very long time. Then we have to find out whether it's a base rune or a combination. If it's a combination then we must find its base runes and if it's particularly complicated, it could have more than two or three bases..." She trailed off thinking.
"Er, 'Mione? Why don't you just find out which language and look it up in a dictionary?" Harry offered his simple yet effective solution. Hermione sighed condescendingly and tisked.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," she said sadly, "You obviously do not realize how most Rune dictionaries are arranged. It's all well and good if you are familiar with the language, but if your not it could take days. Dictionaries are arranged by bases and then you have to look up the meanings of the bases and combine the meanings and look up that combination to find out the combined meaning that creates that rune. Because there are so many runes and so many combinations the dictionaries are HUGE...sometimes there are even MULTIPLE dictionaries..." she trailed off again and grabbed for the ice cream.
"Well, can't you try? Maybe we'll get lucky." Harry pleaded. Hermione sighed.
"Oh, all right, but, if we're not, then I don't want you bugging me about it until we reach Hogwarts where I'm sure Madame Pince has all the dictionaries we need. I only have a few minor ones with the most common runes for only a few languages. So if it's not recognizable, then you'll have to deal." He set down her once again empty spoon and held up the medallion. They all watched her closely for any signs of recognition.
At first it seemed like she might know the rune, but then her face drew together into a pensive frown. Their smiles fell as her frown quickly turned to confusion, and then came back when her expression cleared only to fall back when she frowned again. Finally they could take the suspense no longer.
"Oh bloody hell! Tell us already!" Ron exploded. Hermione's frown deepened and her eyes snapped up to meet his.
"Ron, mind your language!" She snapped, "and as for the rune, good news and bad." She cleared her throat and they all leaned in expectantly. "I think I know the language—" They all cheered, cutting off what she was about to say. She cleared her throat again and silence fell. Harry wondered briefly why they were making such a big deal out of it all, but then shrugged inwardly and tuned his ears to what Hermione was about to say next.
"The rune's rather complicated. I'd say a minimum of four bases and if it's the language I think it is, then I only have a minor dictionary of it, not enough to determine its meaning. So we'll have to wait. I can probably get started determining some of the minor bases, but that's it. That's only if—IF--it's the language I think it is...a very powerful language..." She murmured the last as if to herself, but Harry caught it anyway.
For the rest of that particular day they talked nothing of the medallion, though anyone with a brain could see the thoughtful expressions on their faces which remained permently fixed there for the rest of the week.
*****
AN: Okie Dokie! I think that's a good leave off point! So, whadaya think???
DID I KEEP THEM IN CHARACTER???????? TELL MEEEEEEE!!!!!
Um, yeah. Btw, srry for the wait. I had SEVERE writer's block for a few weeks concerning ALL my stories!!!! It was SO frustrating. I got probably two sentences until now!
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^.^; Yeah....plz review.