A/N: Sorry it's so short. My brain kind of fizzled today. Thanks for all the great reviews!

DISCLAIMER: They make me write this because they're cruel people that want me to come to terms with the fact that I'll never own the HP universe. So there. It's JK's. Jerks.

Chapter Two

London When it Sizzles

As Harry climbed from the Ministry car and walked in silence toward the outdoor café. He glanced over toward Ginny, admiring his choice in clothing for the fifth time since they'd started out of the Burrow. Ginny's hair looked like spun copper in the sunlight. Perhaps that's what the Statue of Liberty had looked like long ago, before it had aged. Ginny certainly was statuesque. Her face looked as though it could have been carved into white marble. Flawless. Harry lowered his eyes to the menu in front of him, scanning over the items. He could feel Fred's slouched form in the chair next to him and a great swell of pity broke over Harry. He felt as though he should say something, but the words wouldn't come.He felt quite grateful when a waitress approached their table.

"Can I help you?" she asked boredly, doodling on a notepad and not making eye contact with any of the patrons at the table in front of her. Ginny tossed a glance to Harry, pleading for help. Harry smiled faintly and glanced up at the waitress.

"Erm, we'd like three hamburger baskets, thanks," he muttered. The waitress walked off without a word, and Harry turned his attention to Fred, who was spinning a toothpick in his fingers. The loss of George had really destroyed him. Harry's stomach writhed. Fred's spirit had once seemed unbreakable. Untouchable, even... But now he seeme to have lost all of that happiness that had brought a smile to Harry's face when he felt like screaming.

"After lunch I thought we could go looking at some shops around London, and then maybe go into town."

Harry couldn't have been more relieved that Ginny broke the silence. He shot her a grateful smile, which she returned brightly. He found it odd in the middle of the summer that goosebumps popped up on his arms. Fred was nodding in silence, and that guilty feeling returned to Harry's mind. Ginny came to the rescue again.

"Fred, sit up, the food's arrived." She sat up straight, and Fred followed suit. Three baskets of fries, a pickle spear, and a hamburger were placed on the table in front of each of them. Harry couldn't help but be amazed at the speed with which Ginny began to devour her own meal. He felt another smile prickling the corners of his lips as he, too, dug into the hot food. It was delicious, and the grunts coming from Fred somewhere between mouthfuls spoke that clearly enough. Harry took a sip of the lemonade he'd ordered. The sip turned to a gulp. He had forgotten just how hungry he was, and so had the two redheads at the table with him. Fred came up for a breath just as Harry glanced over at him over the top of his glass. There was ketchup smeared halfway across the older Weasley's face.

Harry had never before experienced the painful feeling of ice cold liquid, chock full of citric acid, shooting at a high speed from his nostrils. By the time he'd gotten napkins to his face and blown his nose free of the sugary-sour liquid, half the café was staring at him. He blinked watery eyes and stared across the table at Ginny. She was doubled over, laughing so hard that no sound escaped her lips. Her fries were soaked. Fred seemed not to have noticed. He was still in danger of choking on his own food. Harry felt the sun grow hotter on his face and muttered an apology, holding out his own basket of fries sheepishly. They were still dry and lemon-free. Ginny tossed her head back and laughed harder. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a long cascading curtain of scarlet, and Harry felt another smile tugging at his features despite himself.

It should not have come as such a surprise when the rude waitress stopped by their table to ask the trio to leave. Fred had finished his own burger and was tasting Ginny's lemony fries between chuckles of his own. Together, he and Harry had to support Ginny back toward the car.

It took Ginny a good half an hour to calm down, and by then she was so winded from laughing that she'd nearly collapsed in the back seat. Harry and Fred grinned at each other silently as they drove through Muggle London. Harry was the driver again by default. Fred, who had only ever driven the flying Ford Anglia, kept trying to shift into flying mode or hit the invisibility booster. Ginny was worse. She didn't understand why she couldn't turn around in the seat to talk to Harry while they were driving.

After they were kicked out of another store when Fred tried to pay in Monopoly money, Ginny dragged them both into a clothing shop. While she went through the clothes and makeup, Harry and Fred were forced to lurk in the back corner of the shop.

"Think I'd look good in that skirt, Harry?" Fred muttered, nodding to a very short skirt that Ginny was holding up to the two of them. Harry snickered and gave a shrug.

"I think your mum and dad would be more willing to see you in it than their daughter." Fred nodded in agreement and gave Ginny the thumbs-down on the skirt. She glowered and hung the skirt back up.

"Can I try paying again?" Fred asked, looking over at Harry hopefully. Harry snorted.

"I don't think they accept fake money here either. Sorry," he said with a grin. Fred laughed quietly.

"That joke shop was rubbish anyway. Fake dog dirt? I could make real dog dirt if I needed."

Harry laughed. Fred's improved mood was a relief. A voice from behind him made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Are you two ready? When we've gotten all this, I want to head to the Leaky Cauldron and visit some people. Harry, can you pay for this?" Ginny said, and Harry turned to find her holding an armful of makeup and at least six new outfits. He nodded and could have sworn he heard a snigger from behind him.

"Sure."

"Oh Good. I'll go start up the car. Come on, Fred."

Fred shot Harry a pitying look and the two siblings swept out of the shop, leaving Harry with his arms full of dresses and lipstick. He dumped the lot on the counter and ignored the smirk that the clerk was wearing. Perhaps everyone in Muggle London today was rude. He fished out his wallet and pulled out a few twenty-pound notes. The clerk rang everything up and grinned unpleasantly.

"Perhaps you'd like something more in your color?" the woman said, holding up a tube of lipstick. Harry flushed and took the bags, moving out of the shop without waiting for his change.

He climbed into the driver's seat, handing the bag back to Fred, who had taken up the back seat. The hot leather of the seats burned Harry's arms, but his face was burning hotter. He placed his hands on the wheel.

"The Leaky Cauldron."

With a sputtering lurch, the car took off toward his chosen destination.