Thanks for to my reviewers.

To peltra: Interesting, I hadn't really thought about Bree interacting with Riddle's Diary, but now hmm…(Insert thinking pose here.)

To TKDgirl101: Yes poor little Slytherins, mourn for their sanity. MOURN FOR IT! MUHAHAHAHAHA!


Bree had had a rather uneventful summer. She had spent most of it with a babysitter while her Dad had worked on a book at the university, and her Mom had been working at the hospital. Granted the babysitter had been challenging to mess with, she had taken everything Bree did in stride.

Now Bree hadn't pranked the sitter outright, mostly because there was no way she would get away with it, as she was the only other person in the house, but she did have fun saying odd things that made the sitter think there was something strange about her. Like how occasionally Bree would ask the sitter, "Are you living today?" The first time this had happened the sitter had responded, "Well of course I am. I couldn't be here if I was dead." Bree had smiled and said "Are you really living, or are you just existing?" The sitter didn't have anything to say to that.

And then there was the week Bree would randomly tell the sitter her favorite bizarre and or outdated laws. She had started with American laws.

"In Florida, unmarried women who parachute on a Sunday could be jailed."

"That's nice, now eat your sandwich."

Then she moved on to other countries.

"Tibetan monks need permission to reincarnate."

"Uh-huh. Put your shoes on before you go play in the yard."

And finally British laws.

"Being topless in Liverpool is illegal unless you are female and work in a tropical fish store."

That one got a reaction. The sitter had stared at her and Bree had showed her the internet sites she had found the laws on. "I can't believe you weren't making those up." the sitter had said when she saw them.

Now it was getting toward the end of summer and Bree wouldn't be seeing the sitter for the next three days , because Bree was going to stay with the Weasley's. Bree would spend the next two nights and on the third day the Weasley's would take Bree with them to Diagon alley for school supplies.


Bree was at the Weasley's house. Mrs. Weasley had picked her up before her mother had left for her shift at the hospital. The houselooked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

Bree had only just set her overnight bag down when Fred and George came and whisked her away to the backyard where they met up with Ron.

"What's going on?" Bree asked.

"Tonight we're going to rescue Harry." Ron whispered.

"And why does Harry need rescuing?" Bree inquired slowly.

"He hasn't wrote back," began Fred.

"to any of Ron's letters." said George.

At first we thought"

"It was just Errol, but now"

"We think that,"

"those awful muggles he lives with,"

"are keeping him locked up."

"Not that all muggles are awful." George quickly amended when he saw the look on Bree's face.

"Just the ones Harry lives with." finished Fred.

"Okay. So how exactly do you intend to rescue him?" Bree questioned skeptically.

Ron was the one who answered. "With Dad's flying car." he stated. Bree blinked.

"Is it a Dolorean?" she asked, her mind having gone immediately to her mother's favorite movie.

"No, it's a Ford Angelia." Ron answered, perplexed.

"Right, so you intend to fly to Surrey, get Harry and his things, then fly back here?" Bree asked. The three brothers nodded.

"Okay, have fun with that." Bree deadpanned.

"Don't you want to come with us?" Ron asked. Bree gave him a funny look. "Think about what you're saying. Now on the way there it would be fine, but on the way back it would be the four of us, plus Harry, his school things and his owl. Someone would have to sit someone else's lap for that to work, so I think I'll just stay here." she explained.


The rest of the day went by quickly, Bree helped the twins and Ron plan a route to where Harry lived(Bree was surprised to find out that he lived quite close to where she lived, funny she never saw him around…). Then Bree showed them one of her favorite pastimes from when she lived in California. Explore the surrounding area, catch lizards, then shove them into your friends face to make the jump.


It was now rather late at night at the Burrow and everyone had gone to bed. At least everyone that wasn't named Fred, George, or Ron. Bree was half asleep when she heard noise from outside. She looked out the window and saw a Ford Angelia fly off into the night. She grinned, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Bree was woken up the next morning, if you could call it that as there was barely any light out, by Mrs. Weasley opening the bedroom door.

"Mrs. Weasley, what's wrong?" Bree asked softly as she got up so she wouldn't wake Ginny.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Fred, George, and Ron are, would you dear?" she asked as Bree stepped out into the hall. Bree nodded.

"They said they were going to rescue Harry from his relatives." she explained as she followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley gaped at her. "What where they…? Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

Bree blinked. Truthfully the thought had never crossed her mind. "I'm twelve. I don't normally realize that bad ideas are bad until after the fact." she explained. Mrs. Weasley accepted this answer, after seven children she was quite aware of how a twelve year old's mind worked.

There was a thump from outside. They both turned to the window and saw that the car had just landed. Mrs. Weasley marched across the yard to confront her sons while Bree watched from the window. After a lot of yelling, Mrs. Weasley, her sons, and Harry, finally came into the kitchen. The boys all joined Bree at the table while Mrs. Weasley began to make breakfast. Occasionally she muttered things like, "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."

"I don't blame you, dear." she assured Harry, putting eight or nine sausages onto his plate.

"Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate) "flying an illegal car halfway across the country, anyone could have seen you."

"It was cloudy, Mum!" Fred protested.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum!" George exclaimed.

"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him. Bree supposed that this was because he gave off a pathetic, loved deprived vibe.

Right then Ginny came in, squealed, then ran back out.

"Ginny." Ron said to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word.

Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"Blimey, I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and"

"You will not," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again."

"And you two as well. " she said, glaring at Ron and George.

"You two can go to bed. " she said to Harry and Bree. "I didn't mean to wake you, Bree, and Harry, you didn't ask them to fly that wretched car ."

"I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep." Bree stated.

Harry said "I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming."

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject."

And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden." He protested.

Oh, he is marvelous," she said. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book…"

"Mum fancies him," said Fred, in a very audible whisper.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

The garden was large, there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting, but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.

"Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know." Harry said they crossed the lawn.

"People steal them out of the yard." Bree added.

"Why would they do that?" Ron asked, bent over with his head in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods…"

"I don't know. To go with their pink plastic flamingos maybe?" Bree speculated.

There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up.

"This is a gnome," he said grimly.

"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" squealed the gnome.

The gnome was small and leathery looking, and had a head like a potato.

"This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, "It doesn't hurt them, you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes."

He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.

"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.

"See, they're not too bright," stated George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."

Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.

"They'll be back," said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here, Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny."

Just then, the front door slammed.

"He's back!" George exclaimed. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house.

Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned."

Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" Fred inquired eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley.

"There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness."

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" asked George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking, they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe."

"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?" Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?" he stuttered.

"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."

Mr. Weasley blinked.

"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if , er, he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. There's a loophole in the law, you'll find. As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" Mr. Weasley said blankly. "Harry who?"

He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about —"

"Your sons flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted with a shout.

"What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley questioned eagerly. "Did it go all right? I — I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that — that was very wrong, boys — very wrong indeed…"

"Come on let's go." George said to Bree.

"We can show the latest prank we've been working on." stated Fred.


Bree spent the rest of the day helping the twins. When the trio came down for dinner Bree's hair was singed and every once and a while she would glare and George. No one asked why.


The next day Mrs. Weasley got them all up early to go to Diagon alley. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today… Ah well, guests first! Which one of you would like to go first?"

And she offered Harry and Bree the flowerpot.

Harry stared at them all watching him. Bree gave a look that clearly said "Help me" to the twins.

"They've never traveled by Floo powder." Fred stated.

"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?" he question

"I went in the car." Bree stated.

"I went on the Underground." Said Harry.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley eagerly asked. "Were there escapators? How exactly —"

"Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before —"

"He'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Harry, watch us first."

He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate…"

"The right what?" said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly —"

"They'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder too.

"But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to their families?"

"I get lost all the time Mrs. Weasley. I think my parents are used to it." Bree assured.

"Well… all right… you go after Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going."

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.

"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot —"

"Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace."

"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George."

Bree sighed, took some Floo powder, tossed it into the flames, and stepped forward. "Diagon Alley." she said firmly, and the world began to spin. After what seemed like hours, Bree toppled out of the fireplace in the Leaky Caldron. A few minutes later Mrs. Weasley. Ginny, and Percy followed. Mrs. Weasley looked around franticly. Apparently Harry had stuttered and gotten lost in the Floo.


After about ten minutes Harry was found over by Gringotts.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley panted, having ran franticly to find Harry. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far…" He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic, she's coming now . "

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

"Excellent!" Fred and George exclaimed together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.

"What's Knockturn Alley?" Bree asked just as Mrs. Weasley came running into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.

"It's this wicked place full of dark magic." Fred answered.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling." Harry answered.

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley stated sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew!"

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" Mr. Weasley said indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them.

"But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.

Bree took this opportunity to change over her money. Mixed in with the British pounds that she had gotten from her parents were American dollars she had gotten from friends and family back in the states for her birthday, and she really didn't want Mr. Weasley to see them. After thanking the goblin, who looked a bit surprised at how polite she was, but quickly chalked it up to her being muggleborn, she rejoined the group and requested permission to stay with the Grangers while the Weasleys and Harry went down to the vaults.


After the Weasleys and Harry had returned from the vaults, everyone spilt up. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. Bree went with Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins'.

Bree frowned. She had already seen the list of the years required books and had decided, after looking through the books Mrs. Weasley had that were written by the man, that she would only buy one of Lockhart's books, because frankly the man seemed to be a pompous idiot.

Line

After Bree and the twins met up with Lee the four of them went to Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop to stock up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks.

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30P. 4:30P.M.

Bree wrinkled her nose in distaste. She grabbed the books she needed and joined the Weasley's and the Granger's in line. Ron, Harry, and Hermione soon joined them.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute…"

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. Bree wanted to go up and kick him. She hated the paparazzi. Their photos either looked staged and emotionless, or like something a creepy stalker would take. She preferred the photographers from the National Geographic. The photos they took looked like pieces of real life and were always filled with emotion.

Lockhart spotted Harry. "It can't be Harry Potter!" he exclaimed.

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dove forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face was red as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly.

"Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography, which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge ." The crowd applauded again.

"He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me.

"Oh God no." Bree thought in alarm.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Lockhart declared.

"Whose puppy did I kick!" Bree despaired internally.

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own."

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice that Bree knew to be Draco.

"Hello Malfoy. Out shopping for a new dress? I have some pictures of you in the old one. Do you think the reporter over there will be interested?" Bree said before the Slytherin could say anything else.

"Why you…you." he sputtered as a man who was quite obviously Draco's father walked up.

"Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley." Mr. Malfoy said.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower."

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over.

"Get him, Dad!" yelled Fred.

"No, Arthur, no!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. The crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over.

"Gentlemen, please, please!" cried the assistant, and then, loudest of all "Break it up, there, gents, break it up."

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl, take your book, it's the best your father can give you." Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that, no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter, bad blood, that's what it is, come on now let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.

"A fine example to set for your children… brawling in public… what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought."

"Who cares about him?" asked George.

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report — said it was all publicity."

But it was a subdued group that headed back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry, Bree, the Weasleys, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. They said good-bye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.


Back at the Burrow, it was a few hours before Bree had to go back home and she was by the frog pond with the twins. The twins were talking about the fight at the bookshop, and Bree was catching frogs and trying to stack her captives from biggest to smallest. She could only get the stack three frogs high before one would jump off. Eventually Bree gave up and tried to stuff one of the frogs down George's shirt. It soon devolved into madness and all three of them, laughing like crazy, fell into the pond.


I feel like the sitter needs a name and physical description. Any ideas? Also, I still can't decide what to do with the story I previewed last chapter.

Review please.