AN: Not mine, Never was, Never Will be. Poor white girl playing with someone else's toys. Only plot is mine. Props ta mah beta! Who also came up with two main prank items mentioned in this story!*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************
"Hello? Harry, dear?" The voice of Molly Weasley, magically amplified, echoed through the house, entering the bedroom where Harry was sprawled over the bed, and bringing him to reluctant awareness. "Harry dear? This is Molly. Are you there?"
"Argh…" Opening sleep-crusted green eyes, the slender young man pushed himself upright in the bed, and threw back the covers, yelling out. "Coming, Mrs. Weasley!"
"Alright dear…Take your time," Molly's voice returned, and Harry, scratching at his chest, wandered over to the huge oak wardrobe to take out a long red tunic, and slip it on. /What's she want?/ he grumbled mentally, being definitely not a morning person, as he knew she knew. Not bothering to locate his house slippers, he padded out of the bedroom and into the living room, where the only floo connection in the house was located.
"H'lo, Mrs. Weasley," he mumbled, running a hand through his rats-nest hair and flopping down on the thick rug in front of the fire strategically placed there for just this purpose. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh no, dear. It's just…well, we've been missing you. Arthur and I—along with the children—would like you to come over to the house today…" The older woman's voice was soft and sympathetic, her eyes showing motherly concern for the one who'd practically been adopted by her from that first summer. "If you're not terribly busy?"
Harry lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, wishing he'd thought to grab his glasses. "No, nothing pressing." He didn't really want to go, as he knew it would bring back memories he was constantly working his hardest to suppress. Memories of laughing brown eyes, and the teasing both he and Ginny had good-naturedly endured every time they'd visited. However, he couldn't resist the woman who'd become a second mother to him. "I'll come by…" He lifted his eyes, squinting at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was before noon, he could tell that much. "Uhm, how about I come over in…an hour? It'll give me time to fix something to eat and s—"
"Harry Potter! You know good and well I'll feed you here." Molly looked vaguely affronted and Harry ducked his head. Obviously excuses weren't going to work.
"Alright, just let me get dressed and I'll floo through, if that's okay?"
She smiled. "That's perfect dear, see you soon. Love you."
He blushed.
"Love you too, Mrs. Weasley," he mumbled and after one last smile, she disappeared to get breakfast ready, and Harry trudged back toward his bedroom, grabbing clothes for the day and heading into the en-suite bathroom.
After taking a thoroughly far-too long bath in the huge tub, Harry reluctantly drained the water and got dressed in Muggle jeans and a polo shirt, deciding not to worry about dressing up in his robes. The day was too nice, and he just didn't particularly care to boot. The robes were nice and all, but sometimes it just got too bloody hot. Pausing in the bathroom doorway, he remembered suddenly where he left his glasses, and headed over to the bed, scooping up the black frames and slipping them on. Instantly everything came in to sharp detail around him, and he sighed in relief, but froze when his eyes fell upon a stack of books laying on top of the small, but full-to-the-bursting, bookshelf Ginny had put along the wall on her side of the bed. "What the—?" Skirting the bed, he wandered over to the bookshelf and picked up the small pile, and looked them over. At the title of the second book—the one dealing with easy-make, easy-bake meals—recognition flooded through him: these were the books he'd gotten at his last trip to Diagon Alley. /But how'd they get over there?/ he questioned mentally. The last time he'd seen them, they'd been in the bag he'd gotten, and that bag had been dropped beside his favorite chair in the living room. "Strange…"
Shrugging it off, he tucked the books under one arm and headed into the living room, placing them down on the seat of the violently purple chair that been a gift from Tonks when he and Ginny had got married, and found a place in his affections. Especially his rump's affections. The thing was comfortable beyond all belief. Curious, he looked to the side of the chair, for the book-bag, and sure enough, it was gone. /Something very weird is going on…/ he thought to himself, and decided to investigate it as soon as he came back from the Weasleys. It wasn't particularly worrying, which was even stranger. /But then again…if it was something dangerous going on, something would have happened besides just the books moving./
Slipping his wand from the wrist holster he'd procured, he summoned a piece of parchment, and a pre-inked quill—a recent invention much like a muggle pen—which he had to duck as it came hurtling towards him, sharp end first. He snorted as he dug it out of the back of the chair, and chuckled ruefully. /You'd think after all this time I'd have perfect control of my magic./ Sitting on the edge of the chair to avoid the books he'd placed on it, he placed the parchment on his knee and scratched out a note informing Snape that he would not be around for most likely the rest of the day, and that the potion was still in a simmer stage, which it had to go through for three days before anything else could be done. This he sent with a lazy wave of his wand to the front door, after enchanting it so it would only appear to the one that was meant to read it.
Then he could put it off no longer. Rising to his feet, putting his wand back in the holster, and laying down the quill, he got a pinch of floo powder from the brightly coloured jar on the mantle, and threw it into the flames. He stepped in as soon as they turned green, and being careful not to breathe in at all, shouted "The Burrow!" and disappeared.
Seconds later he nearly fell face first, as the fire spat him out.
The owner of the hands that had caught him just in time gave a deep chuckle, and began to pat at the soot on his clothes. "You know, mate, you're the only person I know—other than Tonks—that is still that clumsy coming through the floo."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh hell…" he breathed. /Shit! Shit! Shit!/ Ron was here. Ron was HERE. Ron WAS here. This wasn't good. How could he face him? Knowing what he did? /You don't know anything for sure yet…/ A little voice reminded him. /Oh really? I don't know that Hermione joined Voldemort?/ he retorted mentally.
The little voice fell silent.
"…bad, I know." Ron had finished saying something, and Harry looked at him, settling on a non-commital nod, hoping that it would work. "So mate, how've you been?" The red-head asked as he threw an arm companionably around his best friend's shoulders.
"Smooth, Ronniekins. Smooth," came the jovial voice of Fred. Or at least Harry thought it was Fred. It could very well have been George. The two acted and looked so much alike that they could even confuse their mother at times. Harry glanced at Ron as he drew his arm away, and took in the bright red tips of his ears. A shade so red, that like the hair, it was a uniquely Weasley feature.
"Sorry…" Ron muttered awkwardly, and Harry gave him a slight smile, opening his mouth to tell him it was okay. He never got the chance, however.
"So, Harrykins!" Fred said, grabbing hold of one of Harry's arms by the elbow.
"We've been…" George grabbed hold of Harry's other elbow.
"Working quite hard. We thought…"
"that as our chief investor…"
"and descendant of one of the most high…
"Prankster of all Pranksters…"
"the Mauraders…you should be kept abreast…
"or achest!" One of the twins snickered. "Unless there's something you've not been telling us…"
"of our recent inventions!" Harry oomphed as he was pushed down into a chair in the yard unceremoniously, and couldn't help but grin as a bright red bag was plopped on his lap, then promptly upended.
"Well, go on! Adore us!" they commanded imperiously, and Harry snickered, before beginning to rifle through the contents of the bag that had spilled out over him. The very first thing that caught his eye was a small, seemingly dead dung beetle. He picked it up gingerly, and turned it over, examining it curiously.
"Guys, was this supposed to be in here?" Harry looked up at the twins, who had similar expressions of delight upon their identical faces.
"That, Harrykins, is what we've created in a long-range of things we've lovingly named 'Skeeters Micromoles.'"
"After dear Hermione told us about the Skeeter woman using her Animagus form, to pick up on information at the school…
"…and explained to us what Muggle bugging was…we just had to try. Therefore, we have a selection of beetles, rats, spiders, and flies…"
"that can be activated, and used to literally "bug" other places. Once activated, the one who did so can see through the creature's eyes and in certain cases, hear from their ears…with a simple little spell...oh and after they're activated…"
"if another touch is administered, they "die" and if a keyword is delivered…a dissolving potion kept in the animals "stomach" is released…and they dissolve."
"These won't be sold, though. Purely for use by the Order…until the war is over."
"Then Skeeters hit the market!" they crowed together, and then crouched down to explain the other things that had been in the bag.
In the end, they'd turned up with the Micromoles; a candy that contained invisibility potion and notice-me-not potions "Out of sight—Out of mind;" a smaller, less-noticeable version of extendable ears whose name they'd lifted from the Muggle cartoon "Dumbo"; and three other products that were purely for pranking fun. Harry put everything back in the bag, and after getting permission, shrunk it and pocketed it, planning to put every item to good use in the future. Then the three of them walked back in the house to Molly's summons of food.
The rest of the visit passed on a very light-hearted note, with all of the family, Harry included, being content not to talk about the past or the future, and to just be around each other. Ginny was not mentioned, nor was the ongoing war. Instead it was just like it had been years before, when they were all in school. Molly yelling at the twins, the twins pranking the others, Molly begging Bill to let her cut his hair, Arthur staying out of it, Molly trying to shove fifth helpings of food down Harry's throat, and at regular intervals, at least one of them going bright red from embarrassment. Especially when Arthur asked Harry about Muggle "con-demins." Harry proved at that moment that he was as much a Weasley as the blood-born ones, as he flushed scarlet red, and proceeded to stutter out an explanation.
"Fascinating!" was Arthurs reaction to learning what they were used for. "But doesn't the plasket slip off? Does it dull sensation?"
"ARTHUR!" Molly snapped, her cheeks bright.
"Sorry, dear…" He smiled at her, and dropped the subject until she'd wandered back in the kitchen, then leaned forward to continue in a hushed tone. "So, how many times do Muggles use these comdems?"
"It's made of a type of rubber, Mr. Weasley. Not plaske-er…plastic."
"Ahh…" The head of the Weasley family nodded his head and leaned back in his chair, placing the opening to his mouth and blowing it up like a balloon. "Muggles must be big!" he exclaimed.
Harry choked. "Ah...uhm… Have you ever seen a cell phone?"
Instantly Arthur began to ask questions, dropping the subject of condoms even though he continued to play with the "balloon" one in his lap.
Harry made sure to keep his eyes on Mr. Weasley's face.
************************************************************************************
General: I thought that we needed a bit of a lighter chapter, to break up the melodrama. I hope you all enjoyed J Please review! Also, the plot bunny made babies in my brain. Anyone see where something's going to be introduced?
TexasJeanette: I'll email you soon hon. I hope this was fast enough. I had MAJOR writers block
ShadowICED: Thank you for your review, it was very entertaining, and I've been keeping abreast on your story! Slightly dark pumpkin pie IS good! :giggle: And thank you for making a guess on the question, but, unfortunately, you were wrong. Hermiones resemblance is only superficially to wormtail. He wasn't the one I was alluding to. My AIM is Keely Brannigan, or AlexisXarenya, my email is zarenya@earthlink.net. Feel free to contact me about things that aren't clear, so that I can know what I'm doing wrong, or at least be able to clear them up for you.
That goes for anyone.
Again, please review! Eet ees good for mah soul! J
"Hello? Harry, dear?" The voice of Molly Weasley, magically amplified, echoed through the house, entering the bedroom where Harry was sprawled over the bed, and bringing him to reluctant awareness. "Harry dear? This is Molly. Are you there?"
"Argh…" Opening sleep-crusted green eyes, the slender young man pushed himself upright in the bed, and threw back the covers, yelling out. "Coming, Mrs. Weasley!"
"Alright dear…Take your time," Molly's voice returned, and Harry, scratching at his chest, wandered over to the huge oak wardrobe to take out a long red tunic, and slip it on. /What's she want?/ he grumbled mentally, being definitely not a morning person, as he knew she knew. Not bothering to locate his house slippers, he padded out of the bedroom and into the living room, where the only floo connection in the house was located.
"H'lo, Mrs. Weasley," he mumbled, running a hand through his rats-nest hair and flopping down on the thick rug in front of the fire strategically placed there for just this purpose. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh no, dear. It's just…well, we've been missing you. Arthur and I—along with the children—would like you to come over to the house today…" The older woman's voice was soft and sympathetic, her eyes showing motherly concern for the one who'd practically been adopted by her from that first summer. "If you're not terribly busy?"
Harry lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, wishing he'd thought to grab his glasses. "No, nothing pressing." He didn't really want to go, as he knew it would bring back memories he was constantly working his hardest to suppress. Memories of laughing brown eyes, and the teasing both he and Ginny had good-naturedly endured every time they'd visited. However, he couldn't resist the woman who'd become a second mother to him. "I'll come by…" He lifted his eyes, squinting at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was before noon, he could tell that much. "Uhm, how about I come over in…an hour? It'll give me time to fix something to eat and s—"
"Harry Potter! You know good and well I'll feed you here." Molly looked vaguely affronted and Harry ducked his head. Obviously excuses weren't going to work.
"Alright, just let me get dressed and I'll floo through, if that's okay?"
She smiled. "That's perfect dear, see you soon. Love you."
He blushed.
"Love you too, Mrs. Weasley," he mumbled and after one last smile, she disappeared to get breakfast ready, and Harry trudged back toward his bedroom, grabbing clothes for the day and heading into the en-suite bathroom.
After taking a thoroughly far-too long bath in the huge tub, Harry reluctantly drained the water and got dressed in Muggle jeans and a polo shirt, deciding not to worry about dressing up in his robes. The day was too nice, and he just didn't particularly care to boot. The robes were nice and all, but sometimes it just got too bloody hot. Pausing in the bathroom doorway, he remembered suddenly where he left his glasses, and headed over to the bed, scooping up the black frames and slipping them on. Instantly everything came in to sharp detail around him, and he sighed in relief, but froze when his eyes fell upon a stack of books laying on top of the small, but full-to-the-bursting, bookshelf Ginny had put along the wall on her side of the bed. "What the—?" Skirting the bed, he wandered over to the bookshelf and picked up the small pile, and looked them over. At the title of the second book—the one dealing with easy-make, easy-bake meals—recognition flooded through him: these were the books he'd gotten at his last trip to Diagon Alley. /But how'd they get over there?/ he questioned mentally. The last time he'd seen them, they'd been in the bag he'd gotten, and that bag had been dropped beside his favorite chair in the living room. "Strange…"
Shrugging it off, he tucked the books under one arm and headed into the living room, placing them down on the seat of the violently purple chair that been a gift from Tonks when he and Ginny had got married, and found a place in his affections. Especially his rump's affections. The thing was comfortable beyond all belief. Curious, he looked to the side of the chair, for the book-bag, and sure enough, it was gone. /Something very weird is going on…/ he thought to himself, and decided to investigate it as soon as he came back from the Weasleys. It wasn't particularly worrying, which was even stranger. /But then again…if it was something dangerous going on, something would have happened besides just the books moving./
Slipping his wand from the wrist holster he'd procured, he summoned a piece of parchment, and a pre-inked quill—a recent invention much like a muggle pen—which he had to duck as it came hurtling towards him, sharp end first. He snorted as he dug it out of the back of the chair, and chuckled ruefully. /You'd think after all this time I'd have perfect control of my magic./ Sitting on the edge of the chair to avoid the books he'd placed on it, he placed the parchment on his knee and scratched out a note informing Snape that he would not be around for most likely the rest of the day, and that the potion was still in a simmer stage, which it had to go through for three days before anything else could be done. This he sent with a lazy wave of his wand to the front door, after enchanting it so it would only appear to the one that was meant to read it.
Then he could put it off no longer. Rising to his feet, putting his wand back in the holster, and laying down the quill, he got a pinch of floo powder from the brightly coloured jar on the mantle, and threw it into the flames. He stepped in as soon as they turned green, and being careful not to breathe in at all, shouted "The Burrow!" and disappeared.
Seconds later he nearly fell face first, as the fire spat him out.
The owner of the hands that had caught him just in time gave a deep chuckle, and began to pat at the soot on his clothes. "You know, mate, you're the only person I know—other than Tonks—that is still that clumsy coming through the floo."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh hell…" he breathed. /Shit! Shit! Shit!/ Ron was here. Ron was HERE. Ron WAS here. This wasn't good. How could he face him? Knowing what he did? /You don't know anything for sure yet…/ A little voice reminded him. /Oh really? I don't know that Hermione joined Voldemort?/ he retorted mentally.
The little voice fell silent.
"…bad, I know." Ron had finished saying something, and Harry looked at him, settling on a non-commital nod, hoping that it would work. "So mate, how've you been?" The red-head asked as he threw an arm companionably around his best friend's shoulders.
"Smooth, Ronniekins. Smooth," came the jovial voice of Fred. Or at least Harry thought it was Fred. It could very well have been George. The two acted and looked so much alike that they could even confuse their mother at times. Harry glanced at Ron as he drew his arm away, and took in the bright red tips of his ears. A shade so red, that like the hair, it was a uniquely Weasley feature.
"Sorry…" Ron muttered awkwardly, and Harry gave him a slight smile, opening his mouth to tell him it was okay. He never got the chance, however.
"So, Harrykins!" Fred said, grabbing hold of one of Harry's arms by the elbow.
"We've been…" George grabbed hold of Harry's other elbow.
"Working quite hard. We thought…"
"that as our chief investor…"
"and descendant of one of the most high…
"Prankster of all Pranksters…"
"the Mauraders…you should be kept abreast…
"or achest!" One of the twins snickered. "Unless there's something you've not been telling us…"
"of our recent inventions!" Harry oomphed as he was pushed down into a chair in the yard unceremoniously, and couldn't help but grin as a bright red bag was plopped on his lap, then promptly upended.
"Well, go on! Adore us!" they commanded imperiously, and Harry snickered, before beginning to rifle through the contents of the bag that had spilled out over him. The very first thing that caught his eye was a small, seemingly dead dung beetle. He picked it up gingerly, and turned it over, examining it curiously.
"Guys, was this supposed to be in here?" Harry looked up at the twins, who had similar expressions of delight upon their identical faces.
"That, Harrykins, is what we've created in a long-range of things we've lovingly named 'Skeeters Micromoles.'"
"After dear Hermione told us about the Skeeter woman using her Animagus form, to pick up on information at the school…
"…and explained to us what Muggle bugging was…we just had to try. Therefore, we have a selection of beetles, rats, spiders, and flies…"
"that can be activated, and used to literally "bug" other places. Once activated, the one who did so can see through the creature's eyes and in certain cases, hear from their ears…with a simple little spell...oh and after they're activated…"
"if another touch is administered, they "die" and if a keyword is delivered…a dissolving potion kept in the animals "stomach" is released…and they dissolve."
"These won't be sold, though. Purely for use by the Order…until the war is over."
"Then Skeeters hit the market!" they crowed together, and then crouched down to explain the other things that had been in the bag.
In the end, they'd turned up with the Micromoles; a candy that contained invisibility potion and notice-me-not potions "Out of sight—Out of mind;" a smaller, less-noticeable version of extendable ears whose name they'd lifted from the Muggle cartoon "Dumbo"; and three other products that were purely for pranking fun. Harry put everything back in the bag, and after getting permission, shrunk it and pocketed it, planning to put every item to good use in the future. Then the three of them walked back in the house to Molly's summons of food.
The rest of the visit passed on a very light-hearted note, with all of the family, Harry included, being content not to talk about the past or the future, and to just be around each other. Ginny was not mentioned, nor was the ongoing war. Instead it was just like it had been years before, when they were all in school. Molly yelling at the twins, the twins pranking the others, Molly begging Bill to let her cut his hair, Arthur staying out of it, Molly trying to shove fifth helpings of food down Harry's throat, and at regular intervals, at least one of them going bright red from embarrassment. Especially when Arthur asked Harry about Muggle "con-demins." Harry proved at that moment that he was as much a Weasley as the blood-born ones, as he flushed scarlet red, and proceeded to stutter out an explanation.
"Fascinating!" was Arthurs reaction to learning what they were used for. "But doesn't the plasket slip off? Does it dull sensation?"
"ARTHUR!" Molly snapped, her cheeks bright.
"Sorry, dear…" He smiled at her, and dropped the subject until she'd wandered back in the kitchen, then leaned forward to continue in a hushed tone. "So, how many times do Muggles use these comdems?"
"It's made of a type of rubber, Mr. Weasley. Not plaske-er…plastic."
"Ahh…" The head of the Weasley family nodded his head and leaned back in his chair, placing the opening to his mouth and blowing it up like a balloon. "Muggles must be big!" he exclaimed.
Harry choked. "Ah...uhm… Have you ever seen a cell phone?"
Instantly Arthur began to ask questions, dropping the subject of condoms even though he continued to play with the "balloon" one in his lap.
Harry made sure to keep his eyes on Mr. Weasley's face.
************************************************************************************
General: I thought that we needed a bit of a lighter chapter, to break up the melodrama. I hope you all enjoyed J Please review! Also, the plot bunny made babies in my brain. Anyone see where something's going to be introduced?
TexasJeanette: I'll email you soon hon. I hope this was fast enough. I had MAJOR writers block
ShadowICED: Thank you for your review, it was very entertaining, and I've been keeping abreast on your story! Slightly dark pumpkin pie IS good! :giggle: And thank you for making a guess on the question, but, unfortunately, you were wrong. Hermiones resemblance is only superficially to wormtail. He wasn't the one I was alluding to. My AIM is Keely Brannigan, or AlexisXarenya, my email is zarenya@earthlink.net. Feel free to contact me about things that aren't clear, so that I can know what I'm doing wrong, or at least be able to clear them up for you.
That goes for anyone.
Again, please review! Eet ees good for mah soul! J