After what seemed like ages, here's the latest chap! Do I need to claim that I don't own HP? Ok, I don't. Just enjoy this...


"Time flies when one's enjoying themselves."

This verse was a very popular slogan by Gilderoy Lockhart; that name rings a bell or two? Yes, he's the one of the many uncountable ex Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts ever had in his history, since the four founders' time. Sharing the same fate as most of the ex Defense professors (only a handful ever managed to make it to retirement without a limb or two), after a particular nasty experience with the dark arts, he's never the same again.

The once handsome and charming five times winner of the Most Charming Smile Award of the Witch's Weekly, was now a complete wreck. With the intelligence of a three-year old toddler, he's a mortal danger to himself and people. As we were mentioning him, he's at some part of St. Mungos, hiding away from the hospital matron because he didn't want to eat the cauliflower in his stew because he thought it looked like a little tree and trees aren't for eating, not to mention it tastes awful.

Lockhart's well-being wasn't a concern on a particular Mr. Potter's mind at the moment, in fact, if anyone were to quote Lockhart's world famous quote in front of him, he's sure to curse that person into nothing, because he's feeling the exact opposite.

Harry had his face pressed against the train's window watching mountains, hills, meadows and grasslands pass him by, and the dark blurry outline of King's Cross getting larger and clearer by the minute. He sure wasn't enjoying himself but time still flies and all too soon, he found the scenery in front of him no longer moving which indicates that it had reached it's destination.

Ron hopped off the train with graceful ease, despite his gigantic size and pulled Harry along, behind him towards the barrier where he supposed Mrs Weasley was waiting patiently for them, chatting up with a parent or two, but Harry wasn't appreciative. He was hoping to continue lingering around the station until two weeks' up and it's time to go back to Hogwarts. Ron was too thrilled to be going back home, like the rest of the student body, except Harry, to notice the irritated look on his long pulling face.

Harry slowed down on his tracks as Ron almost ran up to his mother, and took care to take as long as possible to get to the magical barrier; occasionally stopping to retrieve his knuts that happened to "fall out' of his moneybag.

The station quickly emptied of students and after what seemed like almost an hour, Harry finally found himself looking straight at the magical barrier that separates the wizarding world from the muggle one. He stood there for quite some time debating whether to cross it or not when he felt an impatient push on his back and he had already reached the muggle side.

"Nasty bugger, mischief up his sleeves. Lucky Old Barney's bright enough to see through him", thought the aging station captain as he whistled his way for tea after gotten rid of the last kid in the station.

"Hello, my dear, had a great term at school?" came a high-pitched shriek and Harry was instantly enveloped in a warm hug which brightened his mood very much. Mrs Weasley quickly let go of Harry, turned him around a number of times, making him a bit dizzy, checking for signs of weight loss, poor health, and bad personal hygiene. Not able to hide fault in Harry, she let go of her grasp on him and wave him off towards another direction. Harry turned and became aware of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who were standing almost a mile away from them, with identical looks of distaste on their face.

Harry turned to walk to the pair, he was startled when Mrs Weasley pulled him back from the scruff of his tee shirt, held him firmly at the shoulders and tiptoed to plant a motherly kiss on his cheek, as if marking him as one from her nest. She then messed up his hair fondly (not that it'll make any difference on his thick messy head of black hair that never lie flat on his head) before pushing him in the direction of the Dursley who were a bit taken aback to witness the "marking ceremony" but were starting to walk off.

Harry returned a halfhearted wave to bade goodbye to the many Weasleys and Hermione before walking off himself. He had great difficulty catching up with the Dursleys when he had got a trunk in one of his hands, Hedwig in her cage under his another arm (it's not like she weigh a feather, she weighs like a ton. Harry made a mental note not to let her out to hunt for supper anymore) and a broomstick balancing under his underarms. He was aware of many pairs of questioning eyes following him and he was very certain Uncle Vernon could sense them too.

Being a ahy bloke who can never get used to staring, Harry quickly lowered his head and almost raced out of the arrival hall when his forehead made contact with something soft, maybe a little bouncy, making him stop in his track. Looking up, he found himself staring at a vast middle that unfortunately belongs to Uncle Vernon.

"So is this broom the prop the school had given you to play the road sweeper in the play?" Uncle Vernon asked in his booming voice, his small eyes darting around nervously and begun to stride towards the exit with Harry following closely.

" Huh?" was the reply he got. Harry stared at his broad back in puzzlement and received a meaningful look, that Harry didn't quite know what it meant.

"Er… you mean that play? Yeah… yeah… it's the one, taken from Mr. Flinch's collection of broomsticks" replied Harry with fast response.

"Did you say something about the dirty, nasty and ungrateful roadsweeper that you are playing owning a pigeon?" asked Uncle Vernon, with more accusing tone than questioning. Harry spotted his twiddling fingers behind his back as if trying to convey some Morse code message to him. There was a short silence as Harry was trying to figure out hidden meanings for the second time, this time the hidden meaning behind twiddling fingers.

Getting no intelligent response back, Uncle Vernon narrowed his bushy brows & frowned back at him.

"Yeah… yeah…, I think I did mention this in my last owl… I mean letter about the owl. In fact they, I mean the school, had managed to get hold of a live owl. I… I mean because pigeons are often found only in pet shops and you know, the school had tight budgets… er… because they have budgets, so they caught an owl instead. From the Forbidden Forest… oops… I mean that forest's forbidden to all students" finished Harry lamely. He knew that he's gibbering, and he always did that when he's nervous, especially under the stares of many snooping eyes. He then shoved the cage towards Uncle Vernon, to emphasize on his point, almost colliding it into his buttocks; Hedwig's making one hell of a racket for being introduced to a fat arse.

"Doesn't make too much of a difference, do they? Bloody birds they are!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed and the lady nearest to them covered her kid's ears.

Slightly abashed, Uncle Vernon quickened his steps and moved towards the family car packing outside the station where Aunt Petunia and Dudley were sitting in the warm comfort of the car. Uncle Vernon quickly went into the car to seek warmth, leaving Harry out in the cold, heaving his belongings into the boot; his broomstick simply just can't fit without being broken into halves.

After much struggling, he managed to arrange the stuffs to fit properly and proceeded to climb into the back seat, beside the larger than when last seen Dudley, when he was pushed roughly, head logged into the car and landed most clumsily onto Dudley's lap.


Please review! I miss your review! Really miss you guys after being MIA for quite some time. A lot of thinga happened during this period of time, I went into the hospital again, my PC died & I bought a new one just recently, I enrolled in a Uni. That's a lot! So please do pardon me!