A ray of sun cut through a gap in the curtains of the small room. Motes of dust, floating in the air, flitted in and out of the gentle yellow beam. Under the wooden ceiling, two boys lay, one wrapped in a bright maroon blanket, emblazoned with the name 'Chudley Cannons'. The other, under a simple brown comforter, shifted slightly.

The lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, from all those years ago, still showed no signs of fading. Clearly no normal scar, it remained an angry purple, slightly inflamed. As Harry moved again, his bangs fell down over his face, covering the scar.

A gentle knocking came at the door, then a voice, calling to the room's occupants.

"Harry, Ron. Good morning, I'm coming in!"

Harry's eyes fluttered open blearily.

"Hermione? Is that you?"

The door creaked open. Through the crack, the bushy haired head of Hermione appeared. And upon her face, covering all but her eyes and forehead, was a clean white surgical mask.

Harry groaned, letting his head flop back against his pillow. Then in sudden realization, his head popped back up again.

"Wait, wait, wait. Are you wearing a mask, Hermione?"

The door opened fully, and Hermione walked in. With a slight wind-swept air to her hair, and a bag slung over her shoulder, it was clear that she had just arrived.

"Ah yes, that."

Hermione blushed slightly, ducking her head.

"Well, my parents being dentists and all, they have a lot of masks lying around the house so… They figured it was better safe than sorry. I'll explain it more to everyone when we eat. Before that though… Ronald! It's morning!"

Hermione stalked over to Ron's bed, and gave him a thorough whack with her bag.

"Good morning, Ronald! It's so nice to see you again."

Ron flinched backwards, his head hitting the wall.

"Ouch! Whozzair?"

Hermione gasped, and covered her mouth in embarrassment and apology.

"Oh, sorry Ron! I didn't mean to… that is I just wanted to wake you up!"

Harry chuckled at the scene.

"You know the twins did the exact same thing yesterday… and here I thought you took Percy as an example."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, patting Ron gingerly on the head as she did so.

"I'm nothing like those two thank you very much. But if they were trying to wake Ron up, then maybe they had the right idea."

The patting turned slightly more forceful as Ron tried to snuggle back into his bed.

"Oh, come on, Ron! We're leaving in a few hours, get up, get ready!"

Ron mumbled a barely comprehensible reply. Shaking his head, Harry got up from his bed, stretching his arms and yawning.

"It's great to see you too, Hermione. Did you have a good summer?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yes, a pretty productive one. I hope you two have managed to finish your assignments… I would hate to have to make you do them while we're at the Quidditch World Cup, or on the Hogwarts Express…"

Harry held his hands up, warily.

"I'm done, I'm done! That potions essay really took a lot, but it's all good now."

Hermione hummed in approval.

"Hmm, well I'm sure Professor Snape knows best about how to teach potions and what kind of homework to assign, so I'm sure it will all be worth it in the end."

She looked back towards the bed, where Ron was lying face down, once again dead to the world.

"Harry, I'm going to go back downstairs. Can you make sure that Ronald gets up?"

Harry nodded, a smile on his face.

"Will do, Hermione."

As the door shut behind Hermione, Ron's head started moving, side to side in the mattress. His voice was muffled, but the pure outrage in his tone was unmistakable.

"The second thing she says! The second thing! Homework! It's incredible, really! A productive summer? Summers aren't supposed to be productive. Merlin's beard, that girl is absolutely insane."

He rolled over, bloodshot eyes staring at Harry with unusual seriousness.

"I can't believe that… that is one of my best friends. Oh, Merlin, what have I done to deserve this!"

Harry shook his head, smiling.

"I'm not quite sure myself. Troll might have something to do with it, but…"

Harry closed his eyes momentarily, thinking back to that first Halloween. Shaking his head, he spoke up again.

"Anyways, get up Ron. We're leaving pretty soon after breakfast, we have to get ready!"

The entire Weasley family was packed around the dining table, groaning under the load of food that the Weasley matriarch had packed onto it.

"You'll be leaving for Hogwarts very soon after you get home from the World Cup, dears. So, eat up while you can!"

In the ensuing silence, nothing could be heard but the clatter of utensils on plates and the chewing and swallowing of the feast that Mrs. Weasley had prepared.

"Fo Pherwione."

Ron, his mouth full, looked up from his plate.

"Swallow!"

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley's voices combined, a strict rebuke.

Ron shrunk back, hurriedly swallowing before asking.

"So Hermione, why were you wearing that mask when you got here? Dad had one before, and Harry told us that it's something to keep germs out of your mouth? Or something like that?"

Hermione turned to Ron, adopting a lecturing pose. Mr. Weasley perked up, hoping for more conversation about the muggle item that he had been puzzled by.

"Well, it's not just to stop the germs from getting in your mouth, but your whole body and nervous system. It's not really anything special though, most people have stopped wearing them, with the worst of the virus not really having hit us here in England. But with my parents being dentists, we always have a good supply of surgical masks, so my parents suggested that I might as well wear it."

Hermione frowned.

"Well, actually, to be honest, it's more to prevent the person wearing it from spreading germs, breathing them or coughing them into the air. I've done some light reading about the efficacy of masks, and it turns out that it really has to be an everybody thing. Just wearing a mask like this one,"

She paused and pulled a white surgical mask out of her pocket.

"Isn't a guarantee that you won't get sick. There are some really fancy masks out there that are meant to provide safety for the wearer, like N95 masks, but these ones only stop about 50% of viral particles from entering your body. What they really do help with is preventing you, or any unwitting carriers of the virus from spreading it to other people. By stopping 50% percent of the viral particles that any one individual could spread, and then reducing that 50% a further 50% when you breathe in, masks can prevent the rapid spread of viral particles. But that only really works when everyone is wearing a mask."

Harry could practically see the question marks floating above the Weasley family's heads. He'd been to elementary school and studied some science, but this was far out of his league. Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like for wizards and witches to hear about viral particles and carriers of a virus. Nudging Hermione gently in the shoulder, he spoke quietly in her ear.

"Maybe simplify it a little?"

Nodding slowly, Hermione started to repeat herself.

"Well basically, it helps lower the number of germs that go in and out of your body; and it's only really useful when everyone wears one."

Fred and George leaned into the table, one after the other, poking their heads into view.

"But we -"

"Aren't wearing -"

"Masks so -"

"Will it -"

"Help at all?"

The two spoke in a bizarre tandem, alternating voices, creating a sentence.

Hermione nodded slowly, her index finger rising to make a point, but hesitating.

"... Yes. That's true."

She paused again, pursing her lips.

"You know what that really is true."

Mrs. Weasley ruffled her hair as she walked past Hermione, chuckling.

"Well dear you won't have to worry about that here. Now eat up! You've all got a long, fun day ahead of you."

- line break -

"Boys! Let's get going now!"

Harry opened the door of the burrow, walking out to where Ginny and Hermione were waiting. The doorway soon became a traffic jam, with a sea of red heads trying to push their way out into the open.

From over a small sloping hill, two figures carrying large bags emerged. The midday sun reflected off the pair, revealing an odd mismatch of colors and a collage of fabrics and jewelry. The older silhouette emerged into a tall lanky man, wearing a dull orange suit, a bright, yellow shirt underneath, reminiscent of muggle Hawaiian shirts. To his right, a girl, sundress also yellow, walked fluidly through the low grass, with a large bug-catching net resting over her shoulder.

"Ah, Xenophilius!"

Mr. Weasley's voice came over Harry's shoulder, as he stared in bemusement at the pair, who's fashion sense could perhaps only be rivaled but Dumbledore.

"And this must be your daughter Luna, a pleasure, a pleasure!"

Ginny gave a small wave to Luna, smiling slightly.

"Hey Luna, having a good summer?"

As she walked closer, Luna paused, humming to herself, before skipping a step, coming to a stop in front of Ginny. Staring at Ginny's hair, she spoke.

"Yes Ginny Weasley, I have had quite the interesting summer. Our search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack alas remains unsuccessful, but I shall strive to succeed!"

Nodding to herself, and giving a little bounce as she paused, she then patten Ginny's head.

"Hmm… very nice hair, it's no wonder your family is all surrounded with Wrackspurts. I'm sure they'll clear up soon though."

She waved her hands around vaguely.

Hermione choked. Turning to her with blank eyes, Luna tilted her head, asking a voiceless question. Blushing a bright red, Hermione stuck out her hand primly.

"Ahem! It's nice to meet you Luna. My name is Hermione Granger, I'm a friend of Ron's."

Luna tapped her nose, then looked at Harry and winked. As she did so, Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, mouthing 'Wrackspurts?" with a puzzled look in her eyes.

"Might've been this one attracting all the Wrackspurts, hmm."

Harry grinned broadly, as Hermione rolled her eyes at the younger girl's antics.

"You know Luna, you just might be right. I'm Harry-"

"Potter, yes, I know…"

Her eyes floated up to his forehead, drawing a wince from Harry.

"You must miss your parents very much."

With that, she clasped his hands in hers for a moment, then moved to the side to talk to Ginny.

Harry's mouth fell open, eyes flitting side to side as he tried to comprehend that simple sentence, a reaction that his scar that had never garnered from a stranger ever before. Hermione, frowning at Luna's back, turned and met Harry's eyes. With a sad smile, she patted him on the shoulder, and moved off to talk with the two girls, with a stiff gait full of reluctance.

Harry turned to look at the scene behind him. Luna's father was cheerfully talking to a rather bemused Percy, the twins and Ron were chatting eagerly with their older brothers, Charlie, the dragon tamer, and Bill, the curse breaker. Mr. Weasley was back at the entrance of the Burrow, giving his wife a kiss and a hug, then turning around to shout.

"Come on now, we don't want to be late!"