CHAPTER 7

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole - 3:18PM

"Ah, here we are!"

Harry stared askance at his godfather, who looked and sounded entirely too excited at the leaning tower of wrecked wood that constituted the Burrow (Harry's nose wrinkled at the name).

"This? This is where I'm meant to stay? Seriously?!"

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" Sirius chortled as Harry groaned spectacularly at his godfather's pun. "Now now young padawan. Despite its ... eccentric design, the Burrow's protections are much more powerful than they would appear. As the homestead for a Noble family-"

"Wait, what?! The Weasleys aren't a noble family! Trust me, I know the Wizengamot scrolls like the back of my hand and the Weasleys are not on it." Sirius just chuckled.

"That's because you know the active scrolls mate. The Weasleys aren't on that list, because, well, they can't keep up with the fee demands. Fifty-thousand galleons a year is quite the hefty price tag, and they're not able to make the payments needed. And quite frankly, Arthur is too much of an honest man to accept any bribes from the less than reputable purebloods to keep his seat active. Good thing for us all." Sirius began walking towards the Burrow as Harry followed alongside him.

"Now, as I was saying, as the homestead for a noble family, the Burrow's protections are top-notch. As Lord of the home, Arthur has cast several protective magicks over the home and the surrounding lands, magicks only a Lord is capable of casting." Harry nodded at Sirius' explanation, the man no doubt able to pick up on the magicks due to being a Lord himself.

"Bill, the eldest Weasley son, is also a pretty talented curse-breaker for Gringotts and he has installed state-of-the-art wards of his own design to bolster his father's. As Arthur's heir, his relation to the lord makes his wards that much stronger." Harry nodded once more, suddenly pausing as they got closer to the home. A strange sensation passed through and around him, like a gentle pair of vibrating fingers dancing over his face, scalp, and the entirety of his skin.

"Whoa! Did you feel that Sirius?" His godfather nodded, looking strangely proud.

"I sure did mate! Seems like you have a bit of magical sensory ability going on there." Sirius tilted in a decidedly Padfoot-like manner. "Interesting…" he didn't elaborate as he continued on, though Harry filed the 'magical sensory ability' to ask his mum about later.

"We've passed through three layers of wards powerful enough to incapacitate us both were we not already keyed into them. The one you just felt is the more… benign of the three." Harry's eyes briefly widened. "You will also be pleased to know that the Burrow's wards include one which blocks uninvited house elves from entering the grounds. So whichever pesky elf some death muncher sent after you won't be able to get through to you." His expression darkened considerably at mention of the elf that had attempted to kill his only godson. "The house also has a Floo connection, so you can reach out to your mum or I in case of an emergency. Arthur and I will be part of the response team at Hamleys, so you'll be with Molly and the rest of the brood."

"Why's Arthur going along?" asked Harry.

"He's the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. He was actually the one who discovered that the Toymaker was the one creating those Merlin-forsaken toys to begin with. One of the primary tasks of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office is tracking the use of muggle items, no matter how seemingly inane, that are used in muggle baiting. The Toymaker would strike random muggle gathering areas with things like yo-yos, teddy bears, GI Joe action figures, Barbie dolls, playing cards, toy trains, and those thrice-damned rubber ducks." Sirius snarled the last words, gray eyes flashing angrily.

"The bastard got away with it for some months too, until he unleashed a veritable army of rubber ducks and GI Joes in the muggle town of Appleby in the winter of 1978. Damn action figures were riding the ducks like horses of all things, can you imagine?!" Harry snickered at the incredulous disgust on his godfather's face, causing the older wizard to laugh in spite of himself.

"Appleby is adjacent to Upper Appleby, a small magical enclave comprising a large muggleborn community. It was thanks to their efforts that helped stave off the worst of the attack until the aurors could arrive. From the evidence we gathered, Arthur was able to retrograde trace the toys' origins to large purchase orders made at various muggle toy stores, corroborating his months of research. It seemed Wilkes had been using a pseudonym of Caesar Rosemary, some so-called muggle child-advocate philanthropist." Sirius rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Needless to say, Arthur's research was the key in the aurors securing a warrant for the raid on Wilkes Manor, which ultimately led to Wilkes' death. All the better for the world." The older man's eyes blazed, his hatred for the deceased madman palpable. Harry (internally) shuddered to think of what his reaction would be should he ever discover that his godson (and said godson's mum) were related to the monster.

By that point, the two had made their way up to the front door of the house. Sirius turned to Harry. "It goes without saying that you will be safe here, no matter what. Mrs. Weasley is really big about chores and everyone doing their fair share, so you shouldn't have any issue with that. She's a mum's mum, really kind, generous, loves to bake and stuff you with food, so you won't lack any nourishment on that front." They both laughed at that.

"Now, speaking as a Gryffindor here, you will be in a house full of Gryffindors, a few of which may have certain…hangups about you being a Slytherin." Harry made to speak but Sirius held up his hand, effectively silencing him. "And you and I both know that they would be wrong, because you are the single most brilliant and non-prejudiced bloke Slytherin has ever had, the best of them all." The sincerity shining in his eyes caused Harry to smile, gripping his godfather's hand fiercely. A few beats passed before Sirius nodded. "Besides," he said, "you're also the only Slytherin to save the life of four Gryffindor firsties, one of which lives in this house. If anyone gives you any trouble, feel free to rub that in their faces." He winked as Harry laughed, nodding in agreement.

"Before we head in, do you have everything you need on you?" Harry checked in his 'tag-along pouch', a mini fanny pack style mokesin knapsack Ophelia had packed specifically for him. Charmed to be bottomless and anti-theft with multiple secure compartments, it contained an extra set of clothes and day robes, toiletries, a Statis-charmed lunchbox with leftover brisket pie, fresh apple slices, and caprese salad, along with an Ever-full bottle of water. One compartment contained his wand and holster, and another packed full with an assortment of healing potions. Another compartment contained a Nimbus 1700 to be used in case of a serious emergency. Harry had initially thought it was a bit of overkill (especially the food) considering he was meant to be only staying at the Weasleys for a few hours, but according to Sirius Lily had insisted and given Harry's attack, he was inclined to agree.

"Yup, got everything in the pouch!"

With that, Sirius rapped sharply on the front door. Seconds later, it was opened by a cheerful middle-aged woman with flaming red hair who practically exemplified the word "motherly", fitting Sirius' depiction of a mum's mum all too well. Molly Weasley introduced herself warmly to Harry, invited both of them inside to the living room, and practically thrust a cuppa of sweet milky tea into each of their hands, nodding approvingly when they eagerly took a sip. A heaping plate of mini apple and raspberry tarts soon followed, much to Harry and Sirius' mutual delight. Sirius and Molly made small talk while Harry took in the surrounding Weasley abode. It was colorful chaos at best, a rather bohemian hearth of warm reds, golds, oranges, and browns, rendering a decidedly Gryffindor effect. The biggest attraction was a massive family clock propped above and to the left of the Floo. Squinting to activate the zoom feature of his glasses, Harry noticed that in lieu of standard hours, the clock's face was a series of locations, titled "Home", "School", "Work", "Traveling", "Lost", "Prison" (Harry's brow quirked), and finally, "Mortal Peril" (Harry's eyes widened). The clock hands were silver spoons bearing animated pictures of each member of the Weasley family, the bulk of which were currently resting on "Home".

Suddenly, there was a rumbling from upstairs, and then Fred and George bounded down into the living room and over to Harry and Sirius like two massive, overly affectionate ginger golden retriever puppies.

"Harry Potter!" "Our ickle snakey friend!" "Welcome to the Burrow!" "The most exciting place on Earth!" "If you like de-gnoming gardens, that is!" "And Messr. Padfoot!" "In the flesh!" "The greatest Marauder that ever lived!" And with that, the two immediately dropped to their knees and began bowing their heads and chanting "We're not worthy!", all while Harry looked on in complete bewilderment. Sirius merely posed imperiously, as Molly tried (and failed) to shoo the twins away. They finally stopped when Arthur entered through the side door, affectionately rolling his eyes at the twins' antics. He quickly introduced himself to Harry, looking very much like a 'dad's dad'. Warm hazel eyes matched a warm smile,all wrapped in such a poignantly sincere countenance that Harry couldn't help but smile, feeling immediately at ease in the man's presence. Sirius hugged Harry goodbye as Arthur did the same for Molly, mentioning that he'd be back with Sirius shortly. Both soon disappeared through the Floo.

A few beats later, Ron and a little ginger girl Harry had seen the previous year at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters bounded down the stairs. Ron looked completely displeased at Harry's presence, practically sneering at the young Slytherin. The ginger girl - who Molly introduced as Ginny - merely blushed and averted her eyes, though Harry didn't miss the rather keen calculated glint within them before she looked away. He filed that away for later. Percy soon came down the stairs at a significantly more sedate pace than his siblings, expression startling in surprise upon seeing Harry. Herding all her brood into one small group, Molly quickly explained Harry's presence:

"As you all know, this is Harry, he'll be staying with us for a few hours while his godfather and your dad get some work done at the Ministry. No place for a handsome young lad like him," Molly paused and pinched Harry's cheek, causing him to blush and the Twins to start hemming and hawing.

"Oh stop that you two! We're delighted to have him here, especially after he saved our Ron from that awful Professor Quirrell." Ron's expression darkened significantly at that, leveling a sharp glare at Harry that he soundly ignored.

"I was happy to help Mrs. Weasley, truly. I'm just glad to know that Slytherins and Gryffindors can work together when it's for the Greater Good." He smiled angelically over at Ron who continued to glare at him even as Molly praised Harry for his modesty. Interestingly enough, Ginny leveled another calculating glance his way, before quickly averting her eyes when she noticed him looking her way.

"Oh that's wonderful to hear dear boy!" She pinched his cheek once more before giving the children their marching orders to get their de-gnoming chores complete "without any funny business". Her stern expression meant business, before she shooed them away to begin their task.

As they headed out the back door, Harry felt Ron rudely clip his shoulder as he stormed by, looking back long enough to give him a rather fierce stink-eye. Harry smiled back with all his teeth, startling Ron and forcing the boy to stomp off.

'Well… this should be fun.'

4:58PM

With a labored sigh Harry leaned back against the grass, taking a deep drink of water from the glasses Molly had left out. Contrary to its rather casual name, de-gnoming was serious work. He and the Weasley brood had spent almost two hours in the vegetable garden, catching the diminutive little humanoids by the hair, whirling them about as fast as possible, and then flinging them over the garden wall. Apparently, it was a game the Weasley boys liked to play with a point system based on distance and "style." Harry had found the entire spectacle quite appalling considering the little beings' sentience, but he believed he'd done a good job of concealing his true feelings regarding the 'Weasley tradition', considering he'd been dubbed "quite the pro!" by the Weasley Twins.

The youngest Potter had even been able to engage Percy in some conversation regarding the gnomes' origin and purpose. The prevailing theory is that gnomes were first created over millennia ago, an early attempt by ancient wizards (among many) to create a servant race to handle menial tasks. Because their creation pre-dated even Merlin, no one knew exactly how they were made, as there were no written records pertaining to their creation. They were drawn to wizarding gardens because they were originally created to serve as gardeners, but they weren't really intelligent enough to do the job effectively. All they knew was to dig up vegetables and other plants regardless of whether they're ready for harvest or not and then leave them strewn about. While some were smart enough to mimic some random words and phrases, they were basically gophers in the bodies of tiny misshapen humans.

Naturally that had led to the twins teasing "Perfect Prefect Percy'' for his "brilliant elucidation", leading Harry to get in some teasing of his own. He'd wondered (out-loud) in mock-astonishment as to how the Twins of all people knew what elucidation meant. That, and why the Twins weren't making an effort to become prefects themselves, since truly clever mischief makers would work to gain a privileged position where they could wreak real chaos with rather limited oversight. Harry was quite proud to say that he'd been one of the first to render the Weasley Twins speechless.

A loud "Giroff!" interrupted his musings, turning his head to the far right of the vegetable patch to see Ron gleefully fling a rather peeved-looking gnome sky high. His glee was short lived however, when Ron sneered upon making eye contact. Harry, feeling magnanimous, raised a toast to the boy, seemingly infuriating him more before he stomped deeper into the garden's shadow.

"You've certainly made an impression on Ron." Ginny's quiet voice sounded to his left, her expression genuinely amused. "Mind if I join you?" She gestured to Harry's left, plopping down in a heap beside him when he acquiesced.

"Certainly seems that way," he replied. "Though I will say my brother did all the 'impressing' for me." Ginny snorted in amusement before taking a sip of her water.

"I'll say. Ron has never taken too kindly to anyone who's too different from him." Her expression took on that same calculating glint he'd seen thrice before. "I reckon… it makes him feel more different than he cares to feel." Harry smiled, impressed at her perceptiveness.

"I reckon it does." He decided to push a little more. "Despite whatever… impression most have of the Weasley family, the brothers' reputations do precede them. Youngest curse-breaker for Gringotts, youngest apprentice to work on a dragon reserve, a rather brilliant academic poised for potential bureaucratic greatness, and two incorrigible but otherwise exceedingly clever mischief-maker twins." Ginny's brow quirked. "Oh, and a budding young ingenue of a little sister, probably more clever than all her brothers combined. And certainly, more than they'd give her credit for." Ginny stared imperceptibly for a few beats, before throwing her head back in uproarious laughter. She quickly got herself together, looking directly into Harry's eyes.

"True. Five brilliant brothers and an equally brilliant baby sister, the apple of her family's eye. And then there's just Ron. The previous apple of the family's eye before said brilliant baby sister came along. And now, left to… float on the family's periphery amidst his brothers' accomplishments and my brilliance. Hard weight to carry around I reckon…even harder when his so-called best friend can't even write him back." She spat the words with enough venom to sting, causing Harry to choke on his water. He sputtered for a few moments before responding:

"Hang on, Jim hasn't written to Ron?!"

"No! He hasn't, and I can't say I take too kindly to the precious Boy-Who-Lived ignoring his best friend who went with him to help defeat that nutter Professor Quirrell." Her disgust was palpable, a stark contrast to the dewy eyed expression she'd held for Jim the previous year on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"So that explains the more than…sour mood." Ginny snorted.

"Yes, that explains part of it." Harry looked confused. "Oh please, don't take that look with me. He's kidnapped by a psychotic DADA professor all because he was trying to protect his so-called best friend, only to be rescued by his hated identical twin brother. His hated identical Slytherin twin brother. Gryffindors and Slytherins have never liked each other, don't like each other, and probably will never like each other. And they certainly don't go out of their way to rescue each other." Harry took a slow sip of his water, very impressed with the youngest Weasley. That she'd gleaned all that from his and Ron's interactions (with an assist from the gossipy twins) spoke to her potential.

"Touché Ginny, touché. Though I will say the whole 'Slytherins and Gryffindors not liking each other bit' is wholly untrue. I'm a Slytherin with two Gryffindor best friends, born of a Gryffindor and Slytherin marriage, and godson to a notorious Gryffindor prankster. Those anomalies break the rule of the norm, so to speak." He took another sip of his water. "I have to say Miss Weasley… such keen observation skills, such cunning, such cleverness…" his voice took on a teasing lilt. "One would think there was a Slytherin wolf hidden beneath all that Gryffindor sheep wool."

"Weasleys aren't Slytherins." Ginny's flat voice and flat expression gave Harry pause, his mind whirring for some seconds until it clicked.

"Ah, but you aren't just a Weasley are you? Just like I'm not just a Potter, not even just an Evans. Granted we may be born of our families, but that doesn't mean that we're beholden to our families' expectations. If that were the case, I'd be a Gryffindor along with my brother, pretending to be something I'm not while living in the shadow of my more famous relatives. All to please paternal expectations. And being utterly miserable all the way. I said no – and the Hat actually congratulated me on being sensible enough to take its advice."

"The Hat?" asked Ginny dubiously.

"Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?" asked Harry, looking completely unapologetic while Ginny rolled her eyes in amusement. "Well, now that the secret's out… that's how you get Sorted – by a magical talking hat that reads your mind when you put it on. The Twins actually had Ron convinced that troll-fighting was involved. Just act surprised when you find out the truth, alright?" Ginny leveled an intense stare at him, before nodding firmly.

"Besides… your grandmother Cedrella Weasley already set the precedent, so I hardly doubt you'd be shaking the table." He snickered when he heard her choke on her water.

"How did you know about her?!" she asked in surprise.

"I have a keen interest in wizarding genealogy, and I did a brief study of the Weasleys and their connections to Slytherin House last fall. Granted Cedrella Black was a married-in, but it still counts." He adopted a falsely casual expression. "I was saving your grandmother's Sorting to annoy Ron with later, and just haven't had the chance… yet." She laughed at that, before her expression became distinctly contemplative.

"Thank you Harry… you've given me quite a bit to think about." Harry raised his glass in salute.

"My pleasure Ginny." The enjoyed a few more moments in quiet comfort before Ginny's asked:

"Can I interest you in a quick quidditch match?"

"Quidditch?" Harry asked, confused by the non-sequitur.

"Yes, quidditch. I can send a quick owl over to invite some of our neighbors so we can have a full team. Say… Gryffindors vs. Slytherins?" A mischievous grin lit Harry's face, soon mirrored on Ginny's.

"Game on!"

8:33PM

Harry sighed contentedly, resisting the urge to rub his stomach in appreciation as he languidly stretched on his bed. He was currently housed in Charlie Weasley's bedroom, which was mercifully free of Gryffindor colors and Chudley Cannon paraphernalia. Dinner had been absolutely delightful with Mrs. Weasley's delicious roast, vegetables, and decadent pumpkin pecan pie, and he was glad to have had a chance to enjoy the feast and the show. It seemed the brothers were all still reeling from Ginny's spectacular Quidditch performance, betting (with Harry's encouragement) against her brothers and winning six whole sickles for herself for catching the Snitch in all three matches (Fred and George had doubled their bets).

It seemed obvious that the young Weasley was quite skilled at flying, was most likely self-taught, and she showed a clear understanding of the standard Seeker training regimen given her superb execution of the core and some advanced techniques. She'd successfully disabused her brothers of the ridiculous notion of her being 'the baby girl' of the family and other such rubbish. Ginny was the second in recent history to render the Weasley Twins speechless.

Sirius and Arthur were pulling an all-nighter at the Ministry, the rubber duck sighting significantly more serious than initially expected. Neither had expanded in the joint Floo call, but it was enough have Mrs. Weasley visibly worried. Lily was also indisposed; she and Severus had incurred a bit of a potions' snafu with the Claris Mentalis. Lily hadn't expanded during her Floo call, just mentioned it would take her and Severus' combined efforts through the night and well into the morning. She'd been inordinately grateful to Molly for allowing Harry to stay the night, appealing to the older witch's overly protective maternal instinct to keep a child properly supervised.

A sharp knock interrupted his musings, not having a chance to allow the person entry before a surly Ron popped his head in, mumble-asking if he needed any additional toiletries.

Sighing, Harry responded: "I don't Ron, thank you very much for asking." Ron grunted and made to leave. "Hang on a moment, do you mind coming inside? I think we need to chat." Ron looked entirely dubious, but the intensity of Harry's stare eventually forced his hand. He entered the room and stomped over to Charlie's desk, plopping himself into the seat.

"Well? Out with it then!" Frowning at his rudeness, Harry decided to get right on with it.

Ron, I know you're ... not happy that I've been staying here. Honestly, it wasn't my preferred option either, but your family has been absolutely wonderful, and I am very glad to have had the chance to stay here. So with that being said, I'd really like for us to at least try to get along instead of feeling like you're mad at me for breathing too loudly or something. Now, have I actually done anything to you for you to dislike me as much as you do? Or is it still just that I'm in Slytherin? Because, you know, we did all team up to fight the Dark Lord just last month. I think that ought to earn me at least a little credit, don't you?"

Ron closed his eyes and was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "We didn't fight ... You-Know-Who."

"And what is that supposed to mean?!" asked Harry incredulously.

"We didn't. You fought him, and then Jim fought him and drove him off. In the meantime, Zabini and Nott freed the rest of us from our bonds, Neville nearly killed himself taking down the flame trap, Hermione was the one who figured out how Neville could take down the flame trap, and I ... stood around like a great useless lump. My best friend was fighting You-Know-Who, and I ran like a coward."

Harry gaped for a whole second. "Ron, you ran like a sensible person. I was trying to get Jim to follow your lead and run up the stairs too! We were all First Years. None of us should have been trying to fight Quirrell, let alone the Dark Lord. You can't blame yourself for not fighting against a much more powerful enemy when the Boy-Who-Lived only beat him through some weird Dark-Lord-Slaying power that he doesn't even understand himself. And anyway, if that's what you're upset about, why are you taking it out on me?" Ron's face twisted.

"Because… because my so-called best friend hasn't even written me the entire time this summer! I sent four letters, four! We almost died and you'd think that would mean something, but he hasn't written a word to me! Nothing!" Ron said hotly. In spite of his furious tone, the boy looked genuinely hurt.

"Well what the bloody hell do you plan to do about that?" Ron gaped at Harry's sharp tone and made to retort, quailing at the young Slytherin's responding glare.

"Yes Ron, what do you plan to do about that? Sit at home and just pout all day every day because your scared best friend is too much of a cowardly lion to write you back?" Ron's eyes goggled. "Or are you going to be the bigger Gryffindor and go to Jim directly and pull his head out of his arse?" Ron just gaped.

"Seriously, the thought hasn't even struck you?" Harry gave his best condescending snakey sneer. "Jim faced off against the Dark Lord, said lord he's apparently prophesied to defeat or some rubbish of the sort. Despite his public persona and overall pigheadedness, I imagine Jim is terrified for himself and for his best friend, and doesn't want him to worry or come to harm by being his friend. Stupid I know, but thankfully I got most of the brains in the womb." Ron snorted in spite of himself, causing Harry to smile.

"Now, do yourself a favor and listen to the Slytherin boy genius: Tomorrow morning, have your Mum contact Potter Manor via Floo, talk with James, and see if you can see Jim in person. Letters obviously haven't worked for the prat, so I recommend a face-to-face chat. He can't ignore you if you're standing right there, and you can make him understand that the events of last year change nothing regarding your friendship, and that you are willing and ready to be there for him." Ron stared at Harry for a while, before his entire countenance relaxed and he nodded gratefully at the Slytherin's sageness.

"I… I will! Um, and ... thanks ... Harry."

"No problem, Ron. Oh, and I imagine tomorrow would be a good time for the two of you to start working on some school lessons and completing your homework."

"What?! That's not due till September!" Harry swallowed a laugh at the scandalized expression on Ron's face.

"So? I've finished mine. Hermione's finished hers. I'll bet you another galleon that even James made sure that Jim has finished his by now. In spite of his general persisting idiocy, the man does have five OWLS and three NEWTS. The people who are at the top of their class don't get there by making excuses or procrastinating. If you're so worried that you can't properly help Jim on his little… adventures, then you either work to improve yourself until you can help him or else you… find another friend. Because while it absolutely pains me to say this, Jim is the Boy-Who-Lived, so he's probably going to have insane lunatics coming after him for the rest of his life."

"Um…right. Yeah, okay. Um… thanks Harry." And with that Ron quickly scrambled out of the room, no doubt en route to Molly to ask to use the Floo.

Harry sighed when the door closed, wondering how in Merlin's name he had become the Gryffindor House agony aunt. With genuine amusement, he wondered how long it would be before distraught Lions came to him for romantic advice.

AN 1: "Caesar Rosemary" is a reference to Cesar Romero, the actor who played the 1960s Joker in the Batman TV Series. Per TSM he would serve as Erasmus' Joker muse if the man was in fact consuming content about the famous muggle villain.

AN 2: I'm quite fond of my Ginny. We'll see how it goes! :)

Next Up: Birthday Celebrations!