CHAPTER 2

A Surprise at the Burrow

From the moment of his arrival at the Burrow, the tenor of Harry's summer took a sharp upward swing. Ron rushed him outdoors as soon as he arrived.

"What's the hurry, Ron?" Harry panted, laughing. They arrived at the far end of the path and Harry stopped laughing in a hurry.

Ginny lounged on the grass against a large boulder, and Fred and George sat nearby, each trying to out-juggle the other with a motley collection of objects. A girl with long chestnut hair hanging in gentle waves nearly to the ground sat with her back to Ron and Harry. He wondered who it was, and then she turned and her laugh pealed out over the garden as she stood and ran to greet him.

"Harry! How super to see you--I thought you'd never get here!" she cried.

"Hermione?" Harry couldn't believe this was the same girl he'd bidden goodbye at the station a mere two months ago. When had Hermione gotten so tall? And her hair--had it grown so much in only a couple of months? And her--well--the rest of her suddenly seemed so much more...noticeable...in her very short shorts and tube top. Harry gulped.

"Yeah, it's great to see you, too," he said bemusedly. He couldn't seem to stop staring. He'd never really imagined Hermione in so little clothing before, as a certain amount of decorum was required of students at Hogwarts even at the end of the spring term, when it could be quite warm. Harry was suddenly filled with appreciation for the heat of the summer day, and regret that all of--that--would all too soon be obscured once more beneath a school uniform and robe. He sighed.

Ginny and Ron exchanged an amused glance. Hermione appeared not to notice.

"Uh, Harry?" Ron said. Harry looked at him and blinked.

"What?"

Ginny laughed. "We were just about to go for a swim, Harry. Why don't you borrow a pair of Ron's trunks and come with us?"

"Oh, do, Harry," Hermione seconded. "It'll be loads of fun."

"Come on," said Ron, leading the way to the house. "I'll show you where to change." He and Harry jogged back to the house.

"So--what took you so long getting here, mate?" Ron asked. Harry looked at him quizzically.

"Well, I didn't know how I was going to get here," he said. "Actually, I kind of wondered if…" He stopped, glancing at Ron hesitantly.

"If what?" Ron asked.

"Well, you know--if maybe I'd misunderstood and I wasn't really supposed to--I mean, if your mother was just being kind, or..." He trailed off, too embarrassed to complete his thought out loud. Ron had no such compunctions.

"You mean you thought we might not really want you to come?" he said bluntly.

"Well, yes," Harry admitted. Ron punched him in the arm.

"Silly git," he teased. "Summer wouldn't be the same without you, Harry." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Hey--what d'you think of Hermione, eh?" He nodded as Harry shook his head and whistled. "Yeah, I know. Really something, isn't she?" He added hastily, "But don't tell her I said so." He put a hand on Harry's arm. "Will you, Harry? Because I haven't--so far we're not--well, you know."

Harry looked at Ron more closely, alerted by something in his tone. The anxiety on his friend's face made him smile to himself.

Harry said, "She won't hear it from me."

"Good," said Ron, relieved. "That's all right, then." He sauntered off extra-casually toward the house, and a bemused Harry followed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry wandered downstairs on the last day of August, wondering where everyone was. He had apparently slept quite late; no one was about upstairs, although he smelled breakfast cooking. Mrs Weasley popped her head round the bottom of the stairwell.

"Harry! There you are, dear," she said brightly. "Have a good sleep, did you? Would you like some breakfast? Ron and the others are out de-gnoming the garden, but there's no need for you to go off hungry. Come on, now. Come sit down." She bustled him in to the table where Mr Weasley sat drinking a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up as Harry entered.

"Ah, Harry. Good morning. Do sit down," he said expansively. "Do you know, I was thinking I might just ask you a question or two about a few of the, er, interesting-looking items I happened to spot in your uncle's home. What do you say to that, eh?" He beamed genially at Harry.

"Now, Arthur," scolded Mrs Weasley. "Let him get some food in him before you start the inquisition, if you please."

"That's okay," Harry said. "I don't mind. What do you want to know?"

"Oh. Ah. Let me see--what first, what first?" Mr Weasley muttered, tapping one long, thin finger against his chin thoughtfully. "Ah, yes." He leaned toward Harry, eyes gleaming.

"That lovely little yellow automobile your uncle had atop his--his--fellyvision? Vellytision? The boxy wotsit in the parlor, you know." He looked at Harry expectantly.

"Television?" Harry prompted.

"Television! Exactly so. Now I am very curious as to why your uncle should shrink his car to such a very small size, and why he keeps it in his parlor. It seems a rather odd practice to me, but I imagine there is some special Muggle reasoning behind it all, eh?" He picked up his teacup and took a large, enthusiastic gulp, gazing expectantly at Harry.

"Oh--no," Harry explained. "It's not a real car, you see. It's a machine that rewinds your video tapes." At Mr Weasley's blank look he went on. "You pop in a video cassette that you've already watched, and the car rewinds the tape to the beginning."

Mr Weasley gasped in delight. "Rewinds? Video tapes? Oh--wait--wait a minute, Harry." He patted his pockets in search of paper, mumbling, "Answer one question and six pop up in its place, don't you know." The pocket search having proved fruitless, he looked about helplessly.

"Molly!" he called. "Drat. Now where did I..." He leaped to his feet and bounded off in search of note-taking materials.

"Pssst!"

Harry looked round but didn't see anyone.

"Psssssst! Harry, over here!" Ginny whispered urgently from the back door. She waved him over.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Now's your chance to escape! Come on, Harry." Ginny tugged at his sleeve and he followed her out the door, looking back over his shoulder guiltily.

"But--breakfast--your dad--" he began. Ginny shushed him. Peering in at the door, she ran back to the table and snatched up a piece of toast, folded it around an egg, and stuffed it into Harry's hand on her way back out.

"Come on," she hissed. After they had gotten safely out of sight of the door, she slowed down.

"Sorry, Harry. You must think I've gone mental," she grinned. "It's just that I know Dad, and once he gets started you'll be lucky to get out of there before your hair turns gray." She knuckled his hair affectionately. "Come on. It's our last day of freedom! Let's do something. Want to go down to the creek? We could try a spot of fishing or something."

Harry stopped, listening.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked.

"Just wondering where everyone is," he replied. "It's so quiet this morning."

"That's easy," Ginny said. "Fred and George have already left for Diagon Alley." The twins had left school early the previous year, barely making it out the door before Professor Umbridge could expel them after they played a particularly messy joke on her. They had finally realized their long-awaited dream of opening up a magical joke shop. In the short time since then their reputation had grown and they showed fair promise of someday rivaling the famous Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade, the magical village near Hogwarts where third-year and older students were allowed to visit on occasional weekends to spend their pocket money on candy, jokes, butterbeer, and the like.

"Percy…well," she sighed, "Percy's still not speaking to Mum and Dad. Of course by now he knows what a stupid prat he's been, and I think he's too embarrassed to come home and face them. Mind you," she said with a wince, "he really should. They'd be happy to see him no matter what--Mum misses him something awful. But Percy always was too proud for his own good." No question there, Harry thought.

"Where's Ron?" he asked. "And Hermione?"

Ginny smirked. "Oh, they're around," she said. "Probably off somewhere having a Private Talk or something. They're absolutely besotted with each other, you know." She moved on into the paths among the flowerbeds, not immediately noticing that Harry wasn't following. She looked back. He stood staring at her, a strange look on his face.

"Besotted?" he said with a grin. "Ron and Hermione? Ron...and Hermione," he repeated, seeming to consider their paired names in a new light.

"When did all this happen?" he asked, hurrying to catch Ginny up, fascinated by this glimpse into his friend's love life. Love life? Who knew Ron even had a love life? Or that when it finally happened, it should involve Hermione?

"Oh, ages ago," Ginny said airily. "Ron's always had rather a thing for Hermione, you know."

"No," said Harry reflectively. "I didn't know."

Ginny looked at him warily. "Oh--I say, Harry, have I said anything I oughtn't?" she asked in a rush. "I mean, were you--did you--" She broke off, unsure what to say. Harry realized her dilemma.

"Oh! No," he assured her. "It's nothing like that. I've never thought of Hermione as anything but a friend." Ginny blew her breath out in a relieved sigh. Harry had a sudden thought.

"But what about Viktor?" he asked. Ginny met his look with a blank stare.

"Viktor?" she repeated.

"Yeah, you know, Viktor Krum. The Bulgarian Quidditch player. Hermione seemed quite taken with him, and I thought they'd been keeping in touch," Harry said. Ginny snorted.

"Oh, that. Honestly, Harry. They're just friends. She doesn't care for him like that." Ginny rolled her eyes. Harry felt a bit foolish.

"Oh. Well, I just wondered," he said defensively. "I wouldn't want Ron to get hurt. You know, Hermione being his first crush and all."

Ginny laughed. "Don't worry, Dad," she teased. "Ickle Ronnikins is just fine." She looked at him consideringly. "What about you, Harry?"

"What do you mean, what about me?" Harry ducked his head, not particularly liking the sound of where the conversation was heading. He ambled under a weeping willow, heading for the creek he could hear nearby.

"Oh, come on, Harry. Isn't there anyone who's caught your eye?" Ginny persisted. "It didn't really seem like Cho was your cup of tea, but there must be someone you like." She trotted along behind him, impatiently batting willow fronds out of the way.

"I don't know," Harry said, finally. "I guess there's no one in particular." He looked at her suspiciously. "Why--what have you heard?"

"Nothing," Ginny said seriously, "but if I do I'll let you know, shall I?" She twirled ahead of him, giggling, and ran to the edge of the creek. She stopped abruptly and backed up, bumping into Harry. She grabbed him by the arm and tugged him backward, doubled over with silent laughter.

"Come on!" she whispered urgently. "Let's go back!"

"What? Why?" Harry asked. Ginny shook her head, finger to her lips, and pointed across the creek. Then she disappeared silently back the way they had come. Harry looked to where she had pointed and his jaw dropped.

On the creek bank Ron and Hermione stood wrapped in each other's arms, engaged in what appeared to be a very serious kiss.

Harry gaped for a moment and then grinned widely. As quietly as possible he backtracked up the path, leaving them to it.