Chapter 1: Different

Setting: Four Weeks into the summer going into 6th year; The Burrow.

"Harry!" Mrs.Weasley squealed as she immediately pulled him into a tight hug. "How have you been? I sure hope those muggles have been treating you all right!"

"I'm, well.." Harry looked down, "I'm okay."

Harry was actually terrible, how could he be anything but? The closest thing he had ever had to a father had died a little less than a month ago. The truth was he was anything but "okay", but he wasn't about to worry Mrs.Weasley even more.

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs.Weasley pulled him into another one of her famous hugs. A couple seconds later, she pulled away with tears in her eyes. She tried to hide them...as much as Harry hated being treated like some kind of god for something he did while he was just a baby, he hatedbeing pitied even more.

Mrs.Weasley knew this, and she knew she musn't let Harry see the tears in her eyes, but Harry did see them.

"Oh, your shirt is just filthy!" Mrs.Weasley stated, trying to clear the lump in her throat. She just felt so bad for Harry, after all he had been through..

"You'd think those muggles would at least be able to wash your clothes every once and a while!" she muttered as she lifted Harry's arms straight up in the air.

"Mrs.Weasley, I'm fine, honestly." Harry reassured her. But it was too late, she was already tugging his shirt over his head.

"Just filthy!" she muttered once more. "Now Harry, dear, Ron is sleeping, but if you just open the second drawer of his dresser, you'll find a nice clean shirt to wear. Now once you do that, come back down to the kitchen and I'll fix you a real meal. Oh, you poor thing!"

Harry sighed, not a minute had he been at the Burrow and Mrs.Weasley was already fussing over him.

"Well, I can't complain." He thought. Afterall, he couldn't remember a single person who ever cared for him like that...like a mother.

A small gasp interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry!" a little voice whispered excitedly. Harry recognized that little soft voice, but before he could respond, he was once again pulled into a tight hug. The little redhead released him.
"G-Ginny?" Harry half-asked.

"How have you been, Harry?"

"Wow, you...you, um, look -he cleared his throat- different." Harry managed to stammer.

"Good different or...bad different?" she asked, rather straightforward.

"Good different, definitely." Harry answered.

"Thanks..you don't look too bad yourself." Ginny replied. She was just saying this to be polite, but as she looked over him, the truth was he didn't look bad at all. He, for some reason, didn't have a shirt on, and well, "muscular" didn't quite do him justice. Quidditch practice had definitely toned him.

Ginny realized she was staring at Harry's chest, and she quickly looked up, to his eyes, only to notice Harry's gaze drifting down towards her legs. It was then that she noticed she was standing there in nothing but her little emerald-green nightie. She felt a blush creep up her neck. "Well, um, I was just getting a glass of water." she stated.

"Right." Harry replied as he blinked his gaze back to her face. "I'll see you tomorrow morning then." he added.
Ginny turned around and began to walk toward the staircase. Harry lingered there for a moment, watching Ginny walk away. Until finally he turned around and headed toward Ron's room.

"Harry?" Ginnyasked as she turned around to face him again.

"Yeah Gin?" Harry replied, as he too turned around to face her.

"It's really good to see you again." Ginny said softly.

"You too Gin, you too."