Author's note: I do not own Harry Potter

Review response – First off, thanks for the positive response. Second, I understand your issue with Snape and the Dursley's. I do have something planned in future chapters to address those exact things you have described but am loath to say it now because it hits heavy spoiler territory. Remember that it was only slightly less bad than my version in canon and no one really did anything to help him then. I wish I could alleviate your concerns, but I'm really afraid you have to wait. Glad you're enjoying it so far though. Really cannot wait to get into the meat of this story.

When Harry awoke to the loud noise outside his bedroom window, of the many things he could have expected, to witness a sky blue Ford Anglia hovering just beyond the windowsill was not at the top of the list.

Edging closer to the window, he looked outside to see one of the Weasley twins tie a length of rope around the bars trapping him in his room. The twin looked up, a grin growing quickly, as he waved him back.

Harry fled to the other side of the room, having an inkling as to what was to occur next. The car revved its engine as it juddered to the side, forcing the metal rods keeping him trapped from the outside world to slide out of their holdings and into the bushes below.

The passenger door opened, and Fred Weasley performed a near-acrobatic forward roll through Harry's window and into the room.

"Hold the applause Harry," the grin only grew wider as Harry stepped forward in untold relief.

"Fred? George? What are you doing here?"

George mouthed 'are you serious' to him, while Fred simply snorted. "We don't hear from you since we all got back... you had everyone worried mate." A dark look crossed his face as he took everything in. "I guess I can see why now." He smacked Harry's back lightly. "Right then, Operation Save Harrikins is a go. Where's your stuff?"

"It's downstairs. Locked."

Fred rolled his head, cracking his neck theatrically. "Well then, it's a good thing I know a thing or two about breaking and entering." He pulled out a lock pick set from his pocket and began to pick the lock barring them inside the room. "Dad loves muggle stuff. We saw this once and decided that it's a good idea to know how to do this without magic." He definitely knew what he was doing. "Everyone always underestimates it when no magic is involved." There was a click and Fred stood up. "Come on then, you can give me a small tour."

"We have to be quiet. They can't wake up. Please."

Fred took note of the panic his friend was showing and nodded his head. He gave a thumbs-up to George and escorted Harry quietly to retrieve his belongings from the cupboard under the stairs.

When that door was opened, Harry immediately blocked the view inside, instead sliding his belongings back towards where he knew Fred to be. "If you take that back upstairs," Harry informed him, "Then I'll follow you up there with everything else."

Fred raised an eyebrow but decided to defer to his small friend. Taking a step at a time, Harry kept his mental fingers crossed that his heavy sleepers of a family would not find it the correct time to decide to awaken. His luck held out, fortunately, as without incident they managed to place everything into the car.

Harry slid in beside Fred in the front seat, it dawning on him slowly that the whole car was magically expanded. With one brief look back at Privet Drive, he slammed the door closed and they departed. As he closed his eyes in relief, he imagined that he could hear the furious shouting of his uncle in the distance.

Fred and George did not say a word about what they had stumbled onto, while Harry picked up Hedwig's cage, thankful that while waiting, George had unlocked it. "There you go girl," he smiled as she gave him an affectionate nip, hopping on top of his shoulder to preen his untidy locks.

"One hell of a bird there Harry."

He could only imagine the pride that Hedwig would be exuding at the words.

"Do they... does your family know I'm coming?" he asked.

"Well they were saying that they were gonna come pick you up at some point, I guess we just decided to go a bit early."

In what seemed like no time at all, dawn began to break, and Harry noticed a large, impossible structure peaking over a hill in the distance. The car began to slow down as it began its controlled descent, finding a dirt track to use as a pseudo-runway.

A sense of relief encompassed the three of them, as everything hit Harry at once. He was out.

Between them, they brought his things inside, Fred and George cackling softly at the thrill of their adventure, while Harry only stared forward into space, a joy he couldn't describe inflating him to a new level of being. He inhaled deeply, the flow of this new air filling his lungs as he soaked in the whole scenario he had landed in.

"Welcome to our home, Harry."

They stood aside, holding the door open for him. As he entered the house, he could instantly tell the difference between the Weasley's home, and the Dursley's house. This place... it was lived in. There was evidence everywhere he turned his head to the chaos of the family. Instead of a clinical appearance, it was warm and homely. A far cry from the normality of Privet Drive.

"What do you think?"

He had no time to give words to his thoughts, the soft smile and accepting look enough for them to nod as one in simple delight, for a shrill voice interrupted him. "Where! Have! You! Been!?"

A short, dumpy-looking woman appeared almost out of thin air, causing the three to jump at the unexpected appearance.

"Ah."

"Well."

Both withered under the angry stare, which turned around completely when she took in their guest. "Oh my, you must be Harry. Come here, come here. Oh my, those muggles must not be feeding you. Just look, all skin and bones." He had no time to even respond as he was whisked away to a simple wooden dining table, and was pushed into one of the chairs. "Let's get some food in you, my dear." She turned to speak to her sons, a sharp look piercing them, "And we will have words about your recklessness later."

"Yes, mum," they mirrored.

Molly Weasley was a welcoming woman, though she seemed a tad overbearing for his liking. She had tried to bring him into what he was sure would be a tight hug, but jumped away slightly, which startled her enough to purse her lips at the action.

He looked around the table, feeling oddly out of place in someone else's home, with the events of the morning continuously registering in his mind as having actually happened and wasn't another dream.

"Of course, you will have to stay here for the rest of the summer."

"Mrs Weasley, you don't have to do that."

"Oh, don't be silly, dear. The boys say nothing but the best about you, and I won't be having you go back to those muggles this side of summer. No, you can share with Ronald, I bet he'd love to have a friend here."

Harry decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing that though Ron and he had been civil with each other, the idea of them being friends was a bit of a stretch.

The rest of the family drifted in slowly, starting with the patriarch, Arthur. He was a jolly sort of man, and Harry found himself warming to him quickly, seeing in him the same sort of manner as the twins in his personality. He had welcomed him warmly into his home, a hearty handshake as he began to pester him about the muggle world with childlike glee. Much to the consternation of his wife.

He greeted Percy politely, who simply responded in kind, but it was with the youngest two that the issue lied.

When Ron spotted Harry sitting at his table, he cycled through many different emotions: confusion, anger, followed by annoyance. He sat down at the table and glared at him, causing him to visibly withdraw into himself. The twins knew how to bring him out of the funk he was in, having a year of experience in it, and quickly Harry was ignoring him and was simply sitting there reservedly.

"Mummy, have you seen..?" the decidedly female voice stopped short as Harry came into view. She squeaked audibly, hesitated for a second, and sprinted up the stairs, the wood banging until a door slammed above them.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked in his quiet manner, a little more dejected than usual.

"Don't worry about it Harry," said Fred,

George couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "Yeah, Gin-Gin's a huge fan."

Harry groaned but was content. It was as if the last few weeks had meant nothing. That they were just falsifications of a tired mind. He had been released from his bonds and would try to appreciate every second he was free.

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"What's floo?" Harry asked with confusion.

The days had gone by smoothly. Or as smooth as they possibly could. He was constantly lethargic, as he had no sense of purpose; all his vitality had been completely spent. He did not like freeloading off of the kindness of others, but Mrs Weasley would hear none of it.

"I don't care Harry. You are our guest here," she would say every time he attempted to aid around the house.

Secretly he was glad. The twins kept his mind occupied, knowing that what they had stumbled onto in their daring rescue was only the tip of the iceberg. He was also positive that they heard his moans in the night as the nightmares consumed him, for he would wake drenched in sweat and clutching his cursed hand. He would dream of everything, but the worst feeling in that land of the subconscious was the feeling of isolation.

When he was rested enough, he had sent an ecstatic Hedwig off with his letters, all with addendums of the 'Anglia Incident', and his new occupancy at the Burrow. He did not have to wait long for the responses to come back, and he managed to breathe a sigh of relief that none of them hated him. Their letters contained nothing but support and affection that had him trembling with the release of all pessimism at the good fortune he had obtained.

Katie's was the last one to arrive; he had been uncontainable while he waited for the letter. He was completely unable to sit still and would drop down into severe depression at the inkling that she wanted nothing to do with him. The Weasley's would try to bring him back up, and he appreciated their tries, but nothing could make him smile until he read her words.

Afterwards, Fred and George observed his mood increase sharply back to near what it was on the halcyon days when they just lounged about in the common room, no worries apart from a boring essay to write.

"Floo, Harry, is this powder," Arthur lifted a small pot full of what looked like ash. "You take a pinch, only a pinch mind, then toss it into the fire, step into it as you speak your destination. In our case, it's 'the Leaky Cauldron'."

Their Hogwarts letters had arrived that morning, and the family had been waiting for this moment so as to do their summer shopping in Diagon Alley. It being Ginny Weasley's first year, as well as Harry knowing that his home lay just over the horizon, there was much excitement throughout the Burrow in the lead up to this point.

Now, Harry was stood in front of a large fireplace, the Weasley family grouped up beside him as they were explaining how they were to get to Diagon Alley. Harry followed the given instruction, taking a small finger-full of the proffered powder. He faced towards the lowly glow of the burning hearth and stepped forward uncertainly.

Mr Weasley placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing Harry to look up at the man.

"We'll be right behind you Harry."

Harry dipped his head once and hesitantly stepped forward. "Leaky Cauldron!"

The flames turned green as he walked into the flames. Panic set in as a whirl of colours and scenes filled his sight. Countless fireplaces flew past his face until one appeared before him out of seemingly nowhere. Without any way to avoid the oncoming hearth as his body slammed into it full force. Harry shot out with a yelp, sliding on a wooden floor to the sound of startled laughter and a cloud of soot.

"Blimey Harry, what the hell was that?" Fred snickered, unable to help himself.

"I don't think I like floo," Harry groaned.

Another whoosh came from the fire as George appeared next. He took one look at Harry and joined in his brother's mirth.

"Oh dear," said Arthur when he emerged. He took out his wand, waving it at Harry, removing the soot and ash clinging to his body, much to his appreciation. "Think nothing of it, my boy."

Harry had been so full of surprise and wonder when he came to the street the year before. 'Has it really been a year already?' He had been so overwhelmed by what was going on that he did not take the time to really look at the shops themselves.

He had more than enough money, that he had thankfully hidden in his trunk knowing that his relatives would never want to look in there, so he had no need to make a withdrawal from Gringotts. Harry would have gone with them to the bank, but a black-haired missile slammed into him at blinding speed before anyone had realised.

"Harry! Let me look at you. You look so thin, those horrible muggles! And that House Elf! I'm guessing Dumbledore doesn't know anything? Oh, I missed you Harry."

"Lay off a little bit there Katie, I think you're doing him in a little."

Harry had not realised how much tension his body was holding until he fully observed the flushed face of his friend, who had not let go of him. He leaned in slightly, resting his forehead on her collar as he smiled.

The rest of the Weasley's deliberately turned away, "We'll meet you all in Blotts at half 11 before lunch. Lockhart's doing his book signing, and we will not be missing it," Mrs Weasley called out. The twins both rolled their eyes, but smirked and bid a quick goodbye as they followed on after their family.

Katie and Harry's hands met in a natural intertwining as she dragged him to her parents who were poorly hiding chuckles at her excitable chattering. Her parents had seen and heard about the connection their daughter and the boy-who-lived shared, and after meeting him for the first time, saw an emotionally fragile child who had latched onto the person who had shown the most compassion to him. They held a sorrow that someone who was so revered by the Wizarding world had to resort to such an action, but were more proud of Katie than she could ever realise for being the loving girl she was.

The four of them found an easy rhythm as they shopped, re-entering the apothecary for Harry to pick up his necessary ingredients, and then continued on with their purchases in the Alley.

Katie, it seemed, was a huge fan of this 'Gilderoy Lockhart' character. As was her mother, and most other women it seemed. Mr Bell had only found their actions humorous and told Harry that it was something that he would have to get used to.

Harry was not sure exactly what he meant, but could only agree that it was strange to see his friend act so weird.

When they arrived at the designated time by the entrance of the book shop, none of them could see beyond the heads of a horde of people filling the aisles. One of the twins was waiting for them however, commonplace grin for the world to see as he led them to where the rest of his family has saved them a space in the line.

The voice of the man was slime in his ears. He looked around him and saw the fluttering of eyelashes, burning faces, and glazed eyes. But he looked at him. His appearance was almost perfect, his words were careful and polished. But Harry knew what to look for, and he did not like what he saw. Mrs Bell and Weasley, Ginny and Katie. All of them were enthralled by this person who smiled brightly as the bulbs flashed and voices sighed.

He saw ahead of the thin line of verbal vomit spewing forth from between this man's perfect lips and teeth. This man was a demon, a succubus in disguise. Bile rose in his throat, wanting to get away from this peacock of a man, but alas it was not to be.

"Could that be... it is, it's Harry Potter." He was too close, hands had grabbed him, tearing him bodily away from Fred and George and Katie. The twins hardened their postures, while Katie seemed confused but still smitten. He was pleading. Arthur knew. He tried to stop but the crowd pushed him back.

It was tight, the claws held him. He was panicking. He couldn't breathe. He wanted Katie. She had held his hand so tight, and it made being there bearable, but no, he didn't like it. He wanted to go home. He paled. Cold, sticky sweat running in tracks invisible to the bright lights and excited onlookers.

He was doing so well. Getting better. But it was all threatened as some tried to get at him while the camera's flashed and the beast spoke Faustian words. "And of course, young Harry here, and all students of Hogwarts will have the privilege of me, Gilderoy Lockhart, as their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher."

"No", he moaned unheard.

"And here, Harry Potter, a hero trying to live up to the greatest standards that I myself uphold, has given me the pleasure to provide him with his years' books list free of charge." The applause rose in tempo as Harry stared, terror flooding him, mind folding, emotions sinking.

Then it was over as Katie was stroking his back tenderly, crouched down as his head rested in the crook of her neck. She refused to let him see her fury, letting him calm down after what he had just undergone. When she saw the blond hair of Draco Malfoy approaching, she pulled back, slipping her hand into its natural position, fingers lacing together as she tugged him away from the crowd and into the fresh air.

Katie was still comforting her friend when they turned, shocked, as Mr Weasley and another man tumbled out of the shop.

Harry was not sure what exactly was transpiring in front of them but could detect the animosity between the two men easily. The rest of the gaggle of redheads followed Arthur out of the shop, and young Malfoy, as well as a woman, exited behind, going up to the man. Their vision stuck on him, a sneer developing on the Draco causing Harry to turn into Katie's embrace as an ugly feeling filled him up.

He ignored the group as they moved away from the events that had taken place, questions on the lips of Molly Weasley interrupted by the scolding she was giving her husband.

All that work he had put into himself was drying up. But he had three people with him who soothed him and brought him calm. He could feel the humour and mischief of Fred and George, memories of laughter and joy surfacing, mixed with the soothing sincerity Katie drew out of him. It was just a relapse, he repeated like a mantra.

Katie's parents were telling her to return home when the Weasley's would with promises made by Molly and Arthur to make sure she left safe. They were proud of their daughter, but to see two children still so young form an intense connection that they had done worried them. They would have words with Katie when she returned home, but for then decided to let the innocent actions be.

The last stop of the day was to be Ollivander's for Ginny's wand, but they first dropped off at Florean Fortescue's for an ice cream to cool everyone down. Harry paid for his and Katie's, much to her dismay, and sat there in a content silence, cones in one hand, the other entangled with each other's.

Only the twins and Ron noticed the dark look crossing over Ginevra Weasley while she stared unashamedly as the two of them. Fred and George knew that their sister had a huge crush on Harry Potter, most young girls their age had dreamed of the storybook hero, and were growing slightly concerned at the way she was watching how the two acted with each other. Ron, in his own words, thought that 'she was simply mental, he's not that great', and decided to simply ignore the situation.

Ginny Weasley didn't know what to think as wand after wand was thrust into her waiting arms. Harry had greeted the man amicably, to the astonishment of all, and sat in the corner talking quietly to that Katie girl.

Her brows furrowed in anger at the girl. Her mother had told her stories of the boy-who-lived since she was swathed in nappies. Over the years the adoration of Harry had grown to extreme heights; it was so much so that she would dream of their wedding long in the future.

When Harry had arrived at their home she had been shocked, which led way to the thrill of knowing that he would be in her home. She could just picture it in her fantasies. How he would get to know her, then as time went on, they would fall in love and that would be that. Yet, he was so different from what she imagined him to be.

He was so quiet, and he looked constantly ill, like all the vigour in his soul was escaping. He was small too, smaller than her for sure. Fred and George had told the family of his incredible skill with magic, and on a broom (the important part of his story), but she found it difficult to connect the thought of that version of the boy, to the one that she saw before her.

She did not know what to make of him, but she knew for sure that she could not for a single second like the girl who was all over him. When they had paid for her wand (Harry had demanded to be able to do it to repay them and would not take no for an answer), he had stayed to talk convivially with the strange old man. Once more she spotted their hands together. She saw how she looked at him, and how he was when he was with that girl. She wanted him to be like that with her, not with anyone else. And this is what she wrote in the diary her parents had bought her. The nice man in the book, Tom, was so sensitive. He always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

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On the last day of August, Fred and George challenged Ron and Harry to pick up game of Quidditch. Obviously it was not to be a serious game, as for a start they did not have any of the regulation balls, and they were restricted to a single field.

"My word," Arthur called out. "I know they said he was brilliant on a broom, but this is not what I expected."

To him and Molly, it was like watching a world-class dancer perform for the privileged few. The broomstick appeared like an extension of his body; it was an extra limb that moved with thought not gesture.

George had given up trying to keep up with Harry's flying, deciding to instead hover on his Cleansweep next to an awed Ginny and a gruff Ron. "Oh, this isn't even the best of it. Give him a Quidditch pitch and you get something so much better."

"He could go pro."

"Hey Ronnikins, imagine if he plays for the Cannons."

"Seriously, he's so young but flying like that is... it's amazing. I remember the games when I was at Hogwarts, and I've seen a couple of international." He stopped talking as he gathered his words. "I wouldn't be surprised if in a few years he'd be scouted professionally."

"Surely Arthur, he isn't that good." Her mouth was a thin line at the death-defying plays he was making, content grin permanently etched on his face.

"Mum, you should have seen his last match. I reckon if McGonagall wasn't so happy with us winning, she'd have throttled him for his moves. He's better than good. He's a bloody natural."

Molly would normally have reprimanded her son for his language, but she was too mesmerised by what she was watching.

When Harry had entered their home, she took one look at him and decided to treat him as one of her own. As long as anyone was under her roof they were under her protection; that person was more than a guest. The Weasley's were an open and welcoming family, which served as a great disappointment for the 'cause' that such pure-blooded examples would devolve themselves as such 'traitors'. Harry seemed so weak, so delicate as if he was brittle glass. He looked so... broken. She had steeled herself when she saw the young man, and opened her arms to him, trying so hard to make him feel a part of the family.

He was comfortable, more than comfortable really, with her twin sons. They would make him laugh when he seemed to want to cry, make him happy when he was sad. The two never had a serious side to them, but she could say easily that she was proud of them, especially now.

She was uncomfortable at first with his relationship with the Bell girl. But after that incident with Lockhart... he was lost, floundering in the depths. But the girl pulled him out. So she let it be.

But she watched. She watched his face light up in pure bliss, and all she could feel was her heart bleed for such a poor boy.

Author's notes

Not my best work I think, but I always found getting through book 2 demotivating. I think I've shown the scenes well, but I honestly couldn't find the inspiration to make it as good as I know it most likely should have been. It's a quiet period for Harry's life here, and plot-wise it's really just filler. Not my proudest work but I suppose it sets things up for the next ones.

Although, I do enjoy the parts where I set out the thoughts and feelings of other characters. I think it adds how Harry is perceived by other characters and creates a greater narration of who he is. Or maybe I'm just tooting my own horn. Let me know if you like it. I mean... it's not going anywhere but it's still nice to hear what you think of my story.

I like the last scene; it shows a bit more of a light-hearted view on Harry. It's kind of filler, but it fits well.

Next chapter: A New Year

Stay safe all

KhaosOnion