The four friends traipsed down the stairs and entered the kitchen to the sight of pancakes flipping themselves and bacon and sausages sizzling, as Mrs. Weasley prodded some scrambled eggs. Lupin was immersed in the Daily Prophet, and Fred and George were wolfing down their breakfast.

"Plates everyone! Buffet style today," Mrs. Weasley said brightly.

"Morning, Mum," chanted Ron and Ginny.

"Morning, Mum," Harry said automatically. There was an awkward moment as Mrs. Weasley looked up, surprised.

"Err – I just...sorry, still sleepy," Harry said, blushing.

"Oh, that's fine, dear. You like them quite soft, yes? Better get yours now, don't want them getting too done."

"Oh – thanks!"

Harry was a bit taken aback...everyone seemed to be quite back to normal, almost exagerratedly so.

"Where's Mr. Weasley? And Charlie and Bill?" Hermione asked.

George and Fred's forks clanked to their plates simultaneously, and they stood.

"S'great Mum," said George, still chewing.

Mrs. Weasley clucked disapprovingly. "You might – swallow!" she said, interrupting herself to kiss them each on the cheek.

"Time is Galleons, Mum!" said Fred, winking at Hermione, "'Where's Mr. Weasley?' Honestly, Hermione, some of us work for a living!"

"Hmmph! If you could call that work!" Mrs. Weasley added wryly.

"Err – how's the shop then?" Hermione asked, with a hesitant glance at Mrs. Weasley who was now scrambling more eggs quite vigorously.

"Booming!" said Fred, his chest swelling.

"We're thinking of buying the level above us, making it our apartment," George added proudly.

"Thinking of it a bit sooner than planned, of course," Fred added quietly to Harry.

"Got a nice mention in the Prophet, though," said George, "Pretty small silver lining, but what can you do, eh?"

"Hurry up dears, before it gets cold!" Mrs. Weasley said, nodding her head at a stack of mismatched plates.

They waved goodbye to the twins before they Apparated with a loud crack, and they each took their plates and loaded them heavily from the stove. Harry found that he was starving. Somehow, he felt like Mrs. Weasley had single-handedly lifted twenty pounds from his mind and his heart (though undoubtedly she would add twenty pounds to his waistline if this kept up.)

"Remus," said Mrs. Weasley sternly, as though it were a matter of grave import, "Your eggs are ice cold."

"Hmm?" he said still scanning the Prophet.

"Ohh, give them here," Mrs. Weasley said, with her characteristic wry grin. She dumped the cold eggs into the dustbin, and added piping hot ones to Lupin's plate, clanking it in front of him. "Eat!" she admonished, "You'll need to keep your strength up! Full moon tomorrow night!"

"Yes, of course, Molly," he said after a moment, setting aside the paper. He pushed it over to Harry. "You three will probably want to see that." With that, he tucked into his eggs.

Harry grabbed the paper and looked at the front page: There was the Burrow, in black and white, flickering with fire – as Harry watched, the roof collapsed – then it returned and the picture began showing it all again. Above it all, the Dark Mark, a giant skull, glittered menacingly.

THE DARK MARK SEEN OVER WEASLEY HOUSE FIRE: DEATH EATERS SUSPECTED OF ARSON

The Burrow, home of pureblood family, the Weasleys, was a burning reminder last night of a time most of the wizarding community would rather forget. The Dark Mark, both hated and feared symbolic "signature" of He Who Must Not Be Named, was seen over the Weasley home by neighbors at approximately 7:30 pm last night, as a four alarm fire burned the entire residence to the ground.

Magical Law Enforcement arrived on the scene at approximately seven pm, along with Cornelius Fudge himself, Albus Dumbledore, several Aurors, and Head of Magical Law Enforcement and Wizengamot member, Amelia Bones.

"As of this time, we have no suspects," Ms. Bones stated in a press release given late that night, "But we are quite certain that this was arson, and the presence of the Dark Mark here leaves little doubt in our minds that it was, in fact, a Death Eater, or former Death Eater who ignited this fire."

The question at this point, however, is who specifically ordered the attack. Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, stated, "I have no doubt in my mind that this attack was ordered directly by Lord V-------- himself." He later added, "It is, of course, the responsibility not only of myself but of all Hogwarts staff to ensure the safety of our students, and we will continue to do so to the best of our abilities."

Less anxious to speak to us was Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, who seemed to have a different opinion of the situation. "Alright, fine, the Dark Mark appeared here," said Minister Fudge, "But we still do not know if the mark was conjured by a Death Eater, or if it was, whether that Death Eater is currently active. And to say that this attack was ordered by You Know Who himself is certainly premature in my opinion."

Recently promoted to Senior Undersecretary after the sudden retirement of Dolores Umbridge, Percy Weasley offered these comments: "It is certainly very difficult, both personally, and...well, no one wants to believe that the Dark Lord has returned to full power. But I think that whether he himself issued this attack or not, we as a wizarding community must be prepared for the worst." When asked about the rest of his family, Weasley only commented, "They're fine." And declined further questions.

The Weasley family is headed by Arthur Weasley, who works for the Ministry in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, and who was unable for comment before press time. Thankfully, none of the Weasley family, including his wife, Molly Weasley, and their seven children (Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny, from oldest to youngest) were home at the time the fire was ignited. When asked where they were, Percy Weasley simply said, "Dining with friends," and closed his office door.

Many are now speculating that the "friends" of which he speaks may have included Albus Dumbledore himself, Harry Potter, or possibly Remus Lupin, known werewolf, who is also rumored to be a friend of the family. The Boy Who Lived has survived attacks by He Who Must Not Be Named on at least four occasions that the Prophet is aware of, and counts most of the Weasley family among his best friends. Indeed, it is speculated that if the attack was in fact ordered by the Dark Lord, it was carried out in order to "send a message" to the Boy Who Lived – namely, that he and his friends are not immune to the reach of the Death Eaters.

Additionally, Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore both were involved in the subterfuge and defense operations of decades previous when He Who Must Not Be Named first rose to power. The Prophet has also recently learned that Dumbledore has reinstated Remus Lupin as Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

With Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, two Weasley children, and Remus Lupin all returning to Hogwarts School this year, it is the fear of some wizarding families that these "high profile targets" will draw flak to the school from Lord V--------'s followers.

Wife of known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy recently told the Prophet, "I have always maintained that my husband is innocent, and I, like many concerned parents, fear that Dumbledore's rash actions and the favoritism he displays for certain dangerous individuals will put Hogwarts students in danger of attack from the Dark Lord. I sincerely considered keeping Draco, our son, from returning to Hogwarts this year. But Draco wouldn't hear of it – it will be a fine day when the actions of a few loose cannons will keep our children from safe, quality education. I only hope that Dumbledore is still up to the task of protecting the school."

Other wizards were of the opposite opinion. We contacted the Longbottom family early this morning, and spoke by Floo Powder with Neville Longbottom. Most readers will remember how the Longbottom family was involved in the fight against the Dark Lord. Neville Longbottom, about to enter his sixth year at Hogwarts, stated, "I think that without Dumbledore and Harry and everyone, a lot of us would be dead already." When asked if he was frightened for his safety, and the safety of his family, Longbottom insisted, "Well, yeah – but it's not Harry's fault!" When asked how he felt about having a werewolf for a teacher, Neville seemed surprised and pleased. "Really? Professor Lupin is coming back?" he asked, "Wow!"

In the wake of this tragedy, the wizarding community seems more divided than ever, yet all are united on one front: They are hoping for their own safety, and the safety of those they hold dear. Only time will show us of this is indeed, symptomatic of the Dark Lord's return to power, or merely a frightening fluke.

On page ten: Who Fought the Dark Lord? Bios of Dumbledore, Lupin, the Potters, Weasleys, Longbottoms, Prewetts, and other wizarding families who might present targets to the Dark Lord.

On page twelve: Secret Keepers: The Pros and Cons of a Rising Trend.

On page fourteen: Amos Diggory Speaks Out about his Loss, and his Worries for Hogwarts.

"Harry!" shouted Hermione.

"Huh?"

"You plan on sharing that?" she asked snippily.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said pushing the paper across the table to her.

"What'd they say?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"We're all mentioned," Harry said, "'Cept you, Hermione."

"Oh," she said, "Good." But she seemed to droop in her chair a bit.

"Be grateful," Lupin said, dropping a piece of bacon and picking up his glass of orange juice, "A low profile presents a poor target."

"Remus!" said Mrs. Weasley, her fork hitting her plate with a loud clank, "Really!" She turned to Hermione and smiled warmly, "No one is a target, dear. We've all got to be careful now."

"Is it good or bad?" said Ron.

"Hmm?"

"You said we're mentioned – is it good or bad?"

"Eh – bit of both, really. Nothing bad about you. They have a go at me, as usual," he said glumly, "and Dumbledore."

"And me, of course," said Lupin smilingly, "Don't worry, Ron. From now on, I think we'll get the news a bit before the Prophet does. All they're good for now is speculation and reaction. Can't even really call it news. Try not to pay it too much attention."

They finished up their breakfast, and thanked Mrs. Weasley.

"Of course, dears. Now why don't you change into some old clothes – we'll be heading over to the Burrow soon, with your father. See what we can salvage." She spoke brightly and determinedly, but Harry still felt a twinge at hearing the word "salvage." They all stood and made their way to the door, but –

"Harry," said Lupin, "I wonder if you might stay for a moment."

"Sure," he said, turning to Ron and Hermione, "Go on. I'll be right up."

He sat at the table as Mrs. Weasley collected plates. "What's up?"

"Well, I..." Lupin sighed deeply. "Harry, I didn't want to do this now, especially not with everything going on...frankly, I didn't want to do it at all, but it's got to be done sometime, and we can't let it go on for too long."

Harry squirmed in his chair – this sounded like bad news. He wasn't sure he could handle any more of that, especially not with the picture of the Weasley's burning house flickering at him from across the table.

"Err..."

"It's Sirius, Harry," Lupin said, and Harry felt a surge of dislike for Lupin. "He made me the executor of his will, and...well, you're named."

"I don't want it," Harry said automatically, "Whatever it is, I don't want it. It belongs to Sirius."

There was a pause where Lupin and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other sadly.

"And you can knock that off, quite frankly," Harry added rudely.

"Harry Potter! You watch your mouth young man!" Mrs. Weasley said sternly, and Harry felt both ashamed and angry.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "It's just...you know. I'm not that fragile."

"We know, Harry," Lupin said, "But we're just trying to do what Sirius wanted for you."

"Well, what did he want?" Harry said, feeling both curiosity and dread.

"Well, Sirius had very little money," Lupin said, "The Ministry seized most of his assets when they sent him to Azkaban. Most of what he had left went to buy you that Firebolt, actually. But he still had about a hundred Galleons up in the attic, which he leaves to you. The main thing really, is that the house belonged to him. And—" he said, "Now it belongs to you."

Harry felt numb with shock – a house?! He owned a house? But this meant –

"You mean," he said excitedly, "I don't have to live with the Dursleys?"

"Well, no," Lupin said, "You know, Harry, that you are protected while you live there."

"But I'm protected here!" Harry protested, "You can still use it for the Order and things, I won't mind—"

"It's a little early for you to be living on your own, Harry," Lupin said gently, "I'd rather see you out of Hogwarts first."

"Well, seeing as you're not my Dad," Harry said crossly, "I'd rather decide for myself!"

Suddenly, Harry felt a stern "thwack!" on the back of his head. Stunned, he looked up to see Mrs. Weasley turning back to her dishwashing crossly, and felt water from her wet hands dripping down his neck.

"If I heard Ron speaking like that," she said, and Harry heard the familiar strain of reserved temper in her voice, "I would remind him who his elders are," she concluded.

Harry scowled at his dim reflection in the table top. As much as he loved Mrs. Weasley, she wasn't his mother, and he wasn't Ron. "Still," he forced himself to think, "They're just trying to do what Sirius wants them to."

"Sirius didn't want you to live here either, Harry," Lupin continued gently, as though reading his mind. "He stated in his will that the Order should continue to use it until you graduated, at which point, you could decide what to do with it. I think he'd much rather you started fresh, on your own. Someplace with less memory. Now," he said, "There's also the matter of Buckbeak."

"Buckbeak!" Harry exclaimed. He had completely forgotten. "Is he still up in the attic?"

"No," Lupin said, "He was miserable up there, especially after Sirius died. Charlie and I took him to Hogwarts this summer, with Hagrid. It was quite a job getting him there unseen, truth be told," Lupin said, smiling wanly, "But I suppose it doesn't hurt that the Ministry really has more on their hands than a fugitive hippogriff. He'll be living in the Forbidden Forest, now. He was very happy to see Hagrid there, and Hagrid can leave him rats and talk to him when he visits."

"What about the centaurs?" Harry said warily.

"Well – you know Hagrid," Lupin said throwing up his hands, "He'll do as he pleases, won't he?"

Harry smiled. At least that was taken care of.

"Oh," said Lupin, "That just leaves the rest, then."

"Rest?"

"Sirius gave most of the Black family possessions away. But he wanted to make it clear that the Marauder's Map is yours, and that you could sell any of the furnishings or silverware or portraits here, and keep whatever you make," Lupin said, "Except the one of his mother. He said you could cover her up, put her in the attic if you like, but you couldn't get rid of it. Oh, and he left you these."

Lupin reached into his robes pocket, and took out a small bundle of what looked like papers and photos, tied to a small leather book.

"And this," he said, handing Harry a small envelope.

Harry took the parcel and the envelope in trembling hands. His name was scrawled in Sirius's penmanship on the outside.

"Don't even think on them right now," Lupin said, holding up a hand. "When you're ready, Harry – only when you're ready. No one is forcing you."

Harry nodded numbly, feeling a lump rise to his throat again. He knew that these were going straight into the back of his trunk. He didn't think he could bear looking at them for another moment. Some day he would look through it all. But right now, he could think of nothing he wanted more than to forget for a while, and recapture the happy feeling he'd had only a few minutes earlier.

Lupin coughed several times, and rubbed some dirt out of his eye. "Alright then," he said, "Go on up and get changed."

Harry remembered the wedding photo of his parents and Sirius. He suddenly realized who had taken it. All his anger towards Lupin instantly dissolved – he found he no longer resented his gentleness, or the fact that his very presence reminded him so strongly of his family.

"Thanks...err...Professor – err...just Lupin, then? ..."

"Aah..." Remus said, staring very hard at a knot in the table, "Yes. Well, I suppose...If it's alright, you might...Uncle would be fine...Or..." he took a breath, "Moony? – I mean, if you don't want—" he stammered embarrassedly, and Harry saw that though Lupin's voice was quite level, he could not meet his eye.

"Sure," he said hoarsely, "Yeah, that's fine." Harry couldn't really picture a situation where he'd feel comfortable calling Remus "Moony," but he seemed so devastated – like the nickname was the last vestige of his past he was unwilling to relinquish.

Lupin nodded jerkily, and gestured to the door with an awkward smile. As Harry left the room, he saw Mrs. Weasley turn, and sit next to Lupin, putting a hand on his shoulder.

They spent the next several days salvaging what they could from the Weasley home. Mr. Weasley took some time off from the Ministry, only going in two or three days a week, and spending the rest of the time sorting through the debris, or spending time with the family. Harry had never seen Mr. and Mrs. Weasley more affectionate with them, and Ron was frequently seen to be squirming out his mother's bone crushing hugs.

Altogether, it wasn't as bad as they'd thought. The roof had collapsed, but otherwise, the structure of the house seemed to have held, which meant fewer things were smashed than they had expected, even though they were fire damaged. Mrs. Weasley's "knitting chair" was repaired by magic (though one of the rockers needed to be made fresh), and the Weasley silver, warped and distorted beyond use, was able to be salvaged, melted down, and traded in for much-needed Galleons. All of Ron and Ginny's school supplies were paid for by two kitchen drawers. As for their booklist, Ginny inherited Harry's books from last year.

For a while, they weren't quite sure how to afford books for Ron...Fred and George offered a couple times, but Ron always insisted that he'd just borrow Harry's or Hermiones. But Hermione pulled out all the stops, and in addition to her own books, bought a large blank journal...she then put a highly complicated spell on it that would allow it to transfigure from one school book to another, so that all of Ron's schoolbooks for that year were found in one volume that he could change simply by tapping it with his wand.

"This is brilliant!" said Ron, smoothing the cover, "My bookbag might actually make it through the year, for once! Not to mention my shoulders...Thanks, Hermione!"

"Well, I sort of had to do a Protean Charm and then reverse it with a Switching Spell...and getting it to change from one to another took a little doing, but it turned out quite nicely, actually," she said, obviously very proud of herself, "And I can't wait to report this bit of magic to the Ministry."

Lupin flipped through Ron's book, highly impressed, and told Hermione that at the very least, it was Outstanding NEWT-level Transfiguration, at which she blushed and stammered for nearly five minutes straight.

As for their lost school uniforms, Harry told them that he had some extra robes they could borrow, then snuck off to buy them while they were in the apothecary's, hiding them amongst his own bags of school supplies. That night, after Ron went to sleep, he quietly took them out, and rolled them up into a ball in his trunk, so they wouldn't seem so new. Hermione gave him a look when he gave them to Ron and Ginny the next day, but had the good grace not to say anything.

Plus, Mrs. Weasley's and Hermione's knitting needles were flashing midair, day and night, and all the Weasley children (including Harry and Hermione) soon had a fresh supply of sweaters and socks. And most happily of all, witching mothers all over England were sending owls to the Prophet asking for the Weasleys' clothing sizes, and sending parcels of spare clothing. One anonymous source sent a hundred-galleon gift cheque to Marks and Spencer, and Ginny and Ron were both able to buy some new clothes for school.

The end of that August yielded a wide variety of feelings in all of them – when Hermione, Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Lupin, after five sweaty hours crouching together in the ashes, were able to reassemble and put to use Mrs. Weasley's prized clock, there were hearty cheers and cold butterbeers all around. Harry had never had cold butterbeer before, and he found it quite different and quite satisfying after a hot day's work – but maybe it was just the tiny tear of joy sparkling in Mrs. Weasley's eye...

Other days were not quite as satisfying. Like the day the Weasleys finally realized there was absolutely no salvaging the house. As the frame of the house had withstood the flames, there was some tentatively hopeful talk of rebuilding. But on their tenth day of wading through the house, one of the supporting beams gave way. Harry grabbed Ginny by the shoulders, and helped her narrowly escape some falling debris, while Hermione quickly put the Bubblehead Charm on them both, saving Harry a nasty bump on the head. After that, the search was pretty much ended, and they bid goodbye to their home for the last time.

The whole Weasley family, plus Harry, Hermione, and Lupin (and minus Percy) stood staring at the small pile of rubble that was left after all their repairing and vanishing.

"I don't understand," George said, "Didn't we have a protection charm on the place?"

"Well, of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "But once You Know Who decides he's going to burn your house down – well..." she took a deep breath, and turned to her husband. "Did we get a good price for the land, then?" she asked briskly.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Weasley, "Lovely neighborhood, really. Young wizard couple wants to build their home here. Of course, we couldn't get too much for it – The Dark Lord did attack it, after all. You know what they say, 'Location, location, location!'"

He chuckled weakly, and there was a long pause.

"I liked it when you used to come home through the double doors in the kitchen, Dad," said Ginny.

"Yeah," said Fred, "Or that third creaky stair."

"You hated that stair," said Ron, "Always got you into trouble when you were sneaking out."

"Yeah," said George, "Funny the things you miss."

Ginny stepped up to the pile of rubble near the charred hearth, and began sorting through it.

"Be careful, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.

Ron looked around him, and spied a small, weatherbeaten wooden sign, stuck into the earth by a stake – it had been far enough from the fire to have survived. He walked over and in one strong wrench, pried the sign off of its post. "The Burrow," was written in curling script.

Fred and George were walking the back yard, stamping their feet every now and then. They dropped to their knees, and scraped some earth away with their hands. They brought up a wooden box, and withdrew from it a nearly empty bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey.

"Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley said, caught between laughter and shock.

"Well, no sense leaving it there, is there," said George, opening it up, and taking a swig. "At least all our recipes for Wizarding Wheezes are at the shop."

He passed it to Fred, who took a hearty swig, then poured the last few dregs onto the ground. He screwed the cap back on, and they walked back to join the family. Ginny emerged from the rubble with the engraved doorknob from the kitchen door, and Charlie carried a very charred piece of wood.

"What's that?" Bill asked, as he pocketed a chipped and scarred piece of brick from the hearth.

Charlie held up the blackened piece of wood, and ran his fingers over the edge – as soot fell away, they could see notches cut into its edge.

"Doorframe," he said gruffly, "Won't know who's who, now...But I suppose it's alright. I think this is you, Ginny."

"Yeah," she said, running her fingers over it, "My notch from last year was crooked like that."

"So that makes this one mine," Ron said, brushing some soot away.

"And that's us from two years ago," said Fred.

They each took a moment to breathe deeply, and look around them.

"Alright," said Mr. Weasley, "It's time."

"Don't you want to take anything, Dad?" asked George.

"Your mother and I have got everything we need," said Mr. Weasley, beaming at them.

They all raised their wands together.

"Evanesco!"

That was one of the harder days.

Before they knew it, August had gone, and Harry woke abruptly on September first to the sound of Ginny Weasley howling in pain from the hallway.

"YOU BUFFOONS!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, and Harry heard a few choice "thwacks!" amidst the twins' protests and Ginny's howling.

"Well, last year you told us not to use magic—" "OW OW OW OW –" "– so we tried to carry it ourselves this time!" "OOOOOW OW OW –" "DID I TELL YOU TO DROP IT ON HER FOOT??" "Blood traitors! Defilers! Degenerates!" "NOW SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE!! ALL THE NOISE YOU WERE MAKING!" "We were making?!"

Harry sighed to himself, smiling, and climbed out of bed. He grabbed his toothbrush and towel off the nightstand, and made his way through the sound and the fury to the bathroom.

After a six minute shower with five minutes of hot water (Hermione and Ginny had both gotten to it first), a breakfast of burnt toast, and helping to get four trunks, two owls, one cat, four students, four older brothers, two parents, and one werewolf loaded into two Ministry-provided mini-vans, Harry was quite ready to board the train.

At the station, they exploded out of the cars, rather than got out of them, and somehow managed to get all of their assorted nonsense onto carts, and make it through the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. As the Weasley family gathered together for goodbyes, however, a veritable entourage came running out of the train and swamped Harry and the Weasleys.

"Ron!" shouted Katie Bell, "Ron! Are you alright?"

"We read about it in the paper!" shouted Jack Sloper.

"Gin – Gin!" Michael Corner had grasped a mortified Ginny in a deep hug, "What if I'd lost you?" he said rather melodramatically, much to the chagrin of Dean Thomas, and a fourth-year Ravenclaw, both of whom seemed to be waiting in line for their hug from Ginny. Mr. Weasley squirmed uncomfortably, and his wife patted his arm, smiling.

"Hullo Harry!" said Neville, smiling.

"Hi, Neville," said Harry, beaming. He was suddenly struck with a great idea, "Listen, Neville, there's something I've got to ask you later. It's important. Sort of a favor."

"Sure, anything!" Neville said, his round face beaming at being able to help.

"Your house burned down," came an odd, lilting soprano from behind the throng. The Gryffindor Quidditch team parted to reveal Luna Lovegood smiling pleasantly at Ron. Bill and Charlie stared at her, half offended and half amused. She had cut her hair very short, revealing an extremely long neck to match her bulging eyes, but she had also gotten a tan that suited her well.

"Uhm, yeah," said Ron.

"I was very sorry to hear it. Well, read it rather. I saw it in the Prophet when my Dad and I got back from Sweden."

"Ah," said Lupin politely, "Hermione told us you were searching for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. How was the expedition?"

"Not very good," said Luna, shaking her head sadly, "Only saw two. We would have gotten photos, but they're terrified of light, poor things. Oh, I got you this from our weekend in Norway," she said, and handed Ron an ugly looking ceramic troll with a long snout, and curved tail. "You put it under your bed and if you wish it goodnight every night it wards off evil."

"That's – really nice, Luna, thanks," Ron said, as Ginny wrinkled her nose at it and Fred and George snorted from trying to hold in their laughter.

"You're welcome." Luna stepped forward and gave Ron a kiss on the mouth.

"Ahem!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, hello!" Luna said sweetly, "Did you want one too?"

"Excuse me??"

"A troll. I didn't know how many I should get – I've never met Ron's family. So here's one for you, and one for you—"

Soon everyone, even Harry and Neville, had an ugly troll to call their own, except for Hermione, who acidly declined hers, and shot a scathing look at Ron. Ron, on the other hand, was too busy turning red as a beet, and looking at Luna quite fearfully.

"Hello, Harry," came a gruff voice, and Harry turned to see the gnarled, scarred face of Mad Eye Moody grinning at him, along with Kingsley and Tonks, who had decided that green was her color, and had changed her hair accordingly.

"Hi guys," Harry said, smiling. He felt like he had never been so happy to see them. "How's things in the Auror's department?"

"Oh, fine, fine," said Kingsley, "We've been concentrating a lot more on The Death Eaters now, now that...well, now that we have a little more time."

Harry smiled appreciatively. He knew Kingsley meant that now that Sirius was dead, they didn't have to pretend to be looking for him all day, but he thought it was nice of Kingsley to be so diplomatic.

"Wotcher, Harry," said Tonks, ruffling his already mussy hair. "Nice hair. Now all you need to do is dye it green to match your eyes."

"See you had the same idea," said Harry brightly, "'Cept your eyes are blue. At least today."

"Are they really?" said Tonks cheerfully, "That's a bit embarrassing, eh?" She adopted a look of strained concentration, and her green hair suddenly turned the same baby blue as her eyes. "There we are, then. Don't want to clash."

"Err, you can stop treading on my foot, Hermione," Ron said at Harry's right.

"I don't know [I]what[/I]you're referring to," Hermione said briskly, "I must have done it by accident. Oh – there's my parents!" and she dashed over to her waving mother and father, her hair bouncing behind her in the sunlight. Ron watched her go with a confused and pained expression.

"I'm sorry!" said Luna dreamily, "Is she jealous?"

"Err—"

"I just get a bit carried away sometimes, when I'm happy to see someone," Luna said dreamily, "Do you think I should have kissed her, too?"

Ginny was overcome with a fit of the giggles at this point. Michael Corner laughed sycophantically before Dean Thomas and the Ravenclaw boy nudged him out of the way with their shoulders.

"So Harry," said Tonks, "Ready for another year?"

He looked at the mass of people who had come to greet them.

"I can't wait," he said happily.