HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY
CHAPTER 4: Meet the Weasleys. (Pt 1)
9 July 1992
"You have got to be joking," said Harry as he surveyed the majestic wreck that was the Weasley Burrow.
"Of course, Mr. Potter," drawled Snape. "I am, after all, known across the length and breadth of Magical Britain for my comedic stylings. Now come along." With that, Snape started down the pathway towards the house.
Harry followed, ignoring the man's sarcasm. "And I'll really be safer here than, say, a wooden crate in the alleyway back behind the Leaky Cauldron?"
"Despite its ... eccentric design, you will find that the Burrow's protections are much more potent than they would appear. The eldest Weasley son, William, is an accomplished curse-breaker for Gringotts, and he has installed state-of-the-art wards of his own design. Which reminds me: You should probably consult with your tutors and add magical sensory training to your tutoring schedule. Had you taken time to develop magical awareness – admittedly something usually well beyond the First Year curriculum – you might have noticed that we have already passed through three layers of wards powerful enough to incapacitate us both were we not already keyed into them. You will also be pleased to know that the Burrow's wards, according to Arthur Weasley, include one which blocks uninvited house elves from entering the grounds. The house also has a Floo connection, so you will be able to resume your tutoring schedule tomorrow by traveling directly to the Leaky Cauldron. However, your next Occlumency session has been pushed back a week due to your time spent recuperating. Finally, the grounds are large enough to accommodate a full-sized Quidditch pitch. Mr. Flint is quite eager to see what you can do in tryouts this September, and since the Weasley Terrors are also the Gryffindor Beaters, I expect you to return with at least some facility at dodging them."
Harry glanced up at his mentor with a measure of surprise. Snape merely looked down his nose at the boy. "I have grown ... accustomed to that trophy sitting in my office, Potter."
"To be honest, sir, I would never have pegged you for a Quidditch fan."
"I'm not. It's a ridiculous and insipid game made worse by the fact that our national obsession with it ensures that out of a student body of nearly 300, only twenty-eight students per year can participate in any organized sport." He sneered. "That does not prevent me, however, from taking pleasure out of winning at that insipid game."
"Particularly in light of my father's notorious skill at it?" Harry asked mildly.
"Particularly."
"Mm-hmm. Out of curiosity, sir, do you have a favorite sport?"
"Duelling, though the Headmaster has declined my requests to restart the old dueling club which was discontinued during the later days of the War. His understandable concern is that in light of my personal reputation and background only Slytherin Purebloods would sign up for it, and he is loathe to allow potential future Death Eaters to receive combat training under the school's auspices. As a child, I enjoyed soccer during the summers but never at Hogwarts. It would have been unthinkable for a Slytherin in those days to have professed a fondness for any Muggle sport, even the most popular one on Earth. That said, I do recall that when I first started at Hogwarts, there was a brief fad for cricket which even attracted Purebloods. Lucius Malfoy had organized a student cricket league which was still active during my first year, but it fell apart after he graduated."
"Lucius Malfoy is a cricket fan?!" asked Harry in disbelief.
"At seventeen, Lucius Malfoy was not yet caught up in the Dark Lord's orbit and was rather more open-minded about such things, much to the disappointment of his odious father, Abraxas Malfoy. Though to be completely honest, I always suspected he liked cricket simply because he thought the uniforms made him look dashing."
By that point, the two had made their way up to the front door of the house. Snape turned to his charge. "It goes without saying, Mr. Potter, that you are a guest in the Weasley home. You have skillfully cultivated a reputation for charm and bonhomie and for rejecting the snobbery and bigotries with which our house is regrettably associated. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley – and please note, Mrs. rather than Madame Weasley – will refuse any offer of financial compensation for allowing you to stay with them, so I would recommend you seize any opportunity to help their children with the chores. It will likely not be remotely as demanding as the labors piled upon you in your previous living arrangements. In any event, do nothing to embarrass Slytherin House during your time here."
Harry sighed in exasperation. "I'm not stupid, sir. And I'm not Draco Malfoy. But I repeat myself, I suppose. Anyway, I promise I'll be as charming as possible ... and I also promise to look up 'bonhomie' in the dictionary as soon as possible and do that too. But if they stick me with Ron Weasley in a room that's solid crimson and gold and plastered with Chudley Cannons posters, I can make no promises."
"Naturally, Potter. I would never ask the impossible of any of my students."
With that, Snape 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." Molly Weasley introduced herself warmly to Harry, invited both them inside, and asked the Professor if he would care "for a cuppa." Snape demurred politely. Instead, he reached into a pocket and produced a small box which, with a tap from his wand, instantly resized itself into Harry's trunk. While Snape and Molly made small talk, there was a rumbling from upstairs, and then Fred and George bounded down into the living room and over to Harry like two massive, overly affectionate ginger 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!" Then, the two laughed as Harry tried to decipher their back-and-forth speech. Coming down the stairs behind him were two more figures: Ron, who didn't seem at all happy about Harry's presence, and the little girl he'd seen the year before at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters looking dewy-eyed at Jim.
"Boys! Stop that foolishness at once! We have company here!" Molly gestured towards Snape, who looked at the Twins with a jaundiced eye. The two swallowed in unison. The Potions Master turned back to Molly.
"Mrs. Weasley, I leave Mr. Potter to your ministrations. On behalf of my House and Hogwarts, I thank you once again for giving the young man a place to stay for the next week."
"Oh, we're delighted to have the young man stay here. I've heard such great things about him from Percy and the Twins. And of course, the Headmaster told us all about how he helped to save our Ron from that awful Professor Quirrell."
Harry schooled his face into a bland mask at the mention of Quirrell. He wondered if Molly Weasley knew that Quirrell was actually both an agent and a host for Voldemort. He also wondered why Ron was giving him such a stink-eye over Molly's statement.
"I was happy to help, Mrs. Weasley. I'm just glad to know that Slytherins and Gryffindors can work together when it's for the Greater Good." He smiled over at Ron who continued to glare at him even as Molly praised Harry for his modesty. Then, she noticed that the girl had come down.
"Oh, Professor Snape, before you leave – I wanted our Ginny to have a chance to say hello. She'll be starting Hogwarts in September. Ginny, this is Professor Severus Snape. He'll be your Potions teacher."
The shy girl stepped forward and curtsied somewhat nervously.
"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley. I look forward to having you in my class room. I have every confidence that you will follow in the illustrious footsteps of your brothers William, Charles and Percival." The Twins were openly amused by their omission from the list of "illustrious" Weasleys. Ron, not so much. After a few more moments of chitchat (during which the Potions Master struggled not to show visible boredom), Snape gave Molly a schedule for Harry's tutoring and insisted on reimbursing her for the cost of Floo powder. Then, he said his goodbyes and exited quickly to Harry's private amusement. Although Harry was better at hiding it, he was slightly uncomfortable with the overbearing ... cheerfulness of the Burrow and was sure Snape felt even more so.
"Now then, boys, you show Harry upstairs," said Molly to her three sons. "He'll be staying in Charlie's room, since he's made it clear he won't be home this summer." That last comment was surprisingly arch, and Harry briefly wondered what sort of family drama he'd wandered into. The other three boys did not react to Molly's comment and led Harry upstairs. Mercifully, Charlie's room was not done up in Gryffindor colors, but it was covered in Quidditch posters, mainly Puddlemere United and the Tutshill Tornados (which Harry thought were much more sensible choices than Ron's odd Chudley obsession). There were also an unusual number of pictures of dragons on the wall and nearly as many dragon models painstakingly painted and then hung from the ceiling with string. Harry put his trunk off to one side and sat down on the bed. It felt quite comfy. Then he looked up and noticed that Fred and George had followed him into the room.
"Well, we hope you like it here, Harrikins." "It'll be an interesting week with a guest." "Particularly one that sets Ronnikin's teeth on edge the way you do." Then, the two boys laughed together. It was mildly unnerving, but Harry supposed he'd get used to it.
"So I take it Ron wasn't happy with me coming here?" he asked.
"Ron's been in a foul mood almost since we got off the train." "Dunno why." "We reckon it has something to do." "With whatever happened at the end of school."
"Has he not told you?" Harry asked in surprise. "For that matter, has no one else? I assumed it would be all over the school."
"Just the broad details." "Quirrell went bad and tried to steal something from Dumbledore." "Jim stopped him, with various Lions and Snakes along for the ride." "We've heard that you saved Jim's life." "We've heard you were secretly in cahoots with Quirrell against Jim." "We've heard that you and Jim are secretly the same person pretending to be both a Gryffindor and a Slytherin as part of some mysterious plot." Pause. "Admittedly, that last one came someone who was too dense to notice that both of you share classes and eat all your meals in the same room." "Too dense or too paranoid. I think Time-Turners were mentioned." "So anyway, what did happen?"
Harry filed the word "Time-Turner" away for future research. "As you said: Quirrell went bad and tried to steal something from Dumbledore. He captured Ron, Jim, Hermione and Neville. Blaise, Theo and I helped them escape, and then Jim killed Quirrell by doing a Boy-Who-Lived thingy." He decided to leave out all references to Voldemort. Ron could fill in that bit if he chose.
The Twins looked at each other for a second. "So, would you have gone to help..." "If Hermione and Neville hadn't been there?"
"Beg pardon?"
The one with the mole sighed and finally spoke for the pair. "If it had just been Ron, would you have risked your life to save him?"
Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked away as he considered the unexpected question. "Would I have done all that for just Ron?" The Slytherin side of him recoiled from the idea of heroic self-sacrifice, but as Snape was wont to remind him, he did have a powerful Gryffindor side.
"I'm not sure. I think so. Maybe not with quite the same urgency, and I don't know if Blaise and Theo would have come along. But yes, I'm pretty sure I'd have at least tried to rescue Ron. Now Jim? I don't know. He is a spectacular git. But Ron, I think, is just a guy caught up in his hero-worship and irrational Slytherin-hatred. I am at least 65% sure I would have gone to rescue him if he'd been in danger even though we're not what I'd call friends. Or even people who like one another. Does that answer your question?"
Mole and Non-Mole looked at one another, nodded and smiled at Harry. "Yeah. And just to let you know – you won't need to pay us anything else starting this fall." "You risk your life to save our little brother?" "You get put on the safe list." "Which means you'll only get pranked if we do something that affects your whole house..." "In which case you probably wouldn't want to be the one who sticks out for not getting pranked." "You can tell Zabini and Nott that goes for them too." "Just don't spread it around." "We don't want anyone to even know there is a safe list."
Harry smiled. "Got it. And thanks. And for what it's worth, even if you don't want a weekly payment, I'm still interested in financing any ... special projects you have in mind."
The Twins smiled predatorily, and Harry wondered what fresh Hell he'd unleashed on Hogwarts.
Late afternoon found the four boys plus Percy out in the vegetable garden, where Harry was introduced to the fine old Weasley tradition of de-gnoming, which involved 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 struggled to conceal how appalling the whole thing was until finally one of the little creatures actually spoke with a loud "Giroff!" when he grabbed hold of it.
"Gah!" Harry said as he dropped the gnome. He looked to the other Weasleys who were all staring at him. "So, um, these things we're flinging about. Are they, y'know ... sentient?"
"Pfft! Gnome-lover," muttered Ron. The twins giggled at that, but Percy gave the other three a dirty look before actually answering Harry's inquiry.
"I'm pleased to hear you ask that, Harry, so that I'm not the only person to ever de-gnome this garden who actually had any ethical concerns for the little pests. When I was a First Year, I asked Professor Kettleburn that very question about garden gnomes. His response was illuminating. The prevailing theory is that gnomes represent an early attempt by ancient wizards to create a servant race to handle menial tasks. This was thousands of years ago, long before the time of Merlin or Hogwarts, so no one knows exactly how they were created, but the results were obviously unsatisfactory. They are drawn to wizarding gardens because they were originally created to serve as gardeners, but they're not really smart enough to do that job effectively. All they know to do is dig up vegetables and other plants regardless of whether they're ready for harvest or not and then leave them strewn about. And to answer your actual question, while a rare few are smart enough to mimic random words and phrases, they're basically gophers in the bodies of tiny misshapen humans."
"Ah, Perfect Prefect Percy." "What would we do without your brilliant elucidation?"
"You actually know what 'elucidation' means?" asked Harry in an mock-astonished voice. "Incredible!"
Percy, who was about to become annoyed with the Twins, looked at him in surprise and then smiled. He rarely found himself in the company of anyone was capable of diverting the Twins when they started picking on him or who would even bother trying.
"Anyway," continued Harry. "Be that as it may, is gnome-flinging really the best way to deal with them?"
"More or less," said Percy. "All things considered, it's surprisingly humane. Their bodies are so durable that they don't really take any damage from being hurled a great distance. And they're so dumb that if you fling them far enough they won't be able to find their way back to your garden for quite some time. Certainly, it's better than spraying them with gnomicide."
Percy did not mention that gnome-flinging was a time-consuming but reasonably enjoyable pastime. Other than Bill, he was the only Weasley child who had realized that the Burrow was actually warded against gnomes during the school year and that their parents deactivated that ward during the summers to give their more rambunctious sons something to keep them occupied for several days a week. Who knew what the Twins would get into if they didn't have to spend three afternoons a week on gnome patrol?
Meanwhile, Harry had a brief image of pitiful gnomes choking to death under a cloud of poisonous gas and shuddered. "I suppose it is. So they were created as servants? Sort of like the house elves?"
"Yes. According to Professor Kettleburn, there were a lot of ancient attempts at creating magical servants. Gnomes, gargoyles, pixies, doxies, and others." Harry stiffened involuntarily at the mention of those vicious little doxies and the suggestion that some foolish wizard created the first ones. "Then, somebody created the house elves and that was as far as research into that area went. I guess ancient wizards decided that they didn't want servants more capable than house elves. Probably wise."
"Yeah, probably so," said Harry quietly, as he thought back to Iris's cryptic remarks about "the Time Before" and the danger of elves going "wild." Between Dobby and Iris, he wasn't sure what to think about house elves, but he could certainly see the wisdom in not creating any servants even more powerful and intelligent than those creatures.
"Wow, Perfect Prefect Percy." "Is there any area into which." "Your genius does not extend?"
Percy made a face of long-suffering annoyance. Harry merely looked at the Twins in apparent confusion.
"Here's what I don't understand, Percy. Given the inherent benefits of the position of prefect, why haven't the Twins at least considered trying to get it themselves? They're the smartest blokes in their year, no matter how hard they work to hide it. And a truly cunning mischief-maker could wreak some real chaos if he could hide behind a prefect's badge."
The Twins looked at him as if that were the silliest thing they'd ever heard, but then they both blinked for a second in unison, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning in their heads.
"Harry Potter!" exclaimed Percy hotly. "You are a guest in the Weasley household. I'll thank you to use your Slytherin powers for good rather than evil while you stay here. Do not encourage my brothers to abuse the prefect system as another avenue for their nonsense." The older boy tried his best to give Harry a stern look, but he could tell that Percy was struggling not to snicker at Harry's reverse psychology. For his part, Harry's face betrayed nothing but serene innocence.
After a few hours spent de-gnoming, Harry and the Weasley boys went into the house to wash up before dinner. As Harry came down the stairs, there was a burst of green flame from the fireplace as Arthur Weasley stepped through, dusting off Floo powder as he did.
"Hello, Weasleys!" exclaimed the man jovially. Then, he noticed Harry. "Ah, and hello to you as well! Mr. Potter, I presume!"
"Please, Mr. Weasley, call me Harry." He stepped forward and gave the man a firm but respectful handshake which the man returned with a smile.
"I trust you're settling in alright, Harry?"
"Oh, yes sir. Your family has been most gracious. I got to fling gnomes this afternoon! It was wicked!" Actually, it was merely a mildly enjoyable leisure activity, but apparently it was a Weasley family tradition, so Harry feigned what he thought was an acceptable level of delight.
"Haha! I'm glad to see your fitting right in. I remember long afternoons of gnome-flinging myself. But all work and no play makes Jack a dull lad. I'm sure the boys will have you out on the Quidditch pitch tomorrow for a few rounds."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Now then, Harry, from what Professor Snape mentioned in his owl, you grew up Muggle-raised, am I right?" Surprised by the question, Harry simply nodded. "If you don't mind, could I ask you some questions about what it was like?"
Harry gaped at that. He didn't think that Snape had told the Weasleys everything about what happened at 4 Privet Drive, but surely Mr. Weasley knew that he hadn't been treated well there. Did this strange man have some prurient interest in how the Dursleys had raised him? "In what sense, sir?" he asked evasively.
"Well, for starters, what's it like to have a house with ekeltricity?" Arthur asked, oblivious to the boy's confusion.
"Ekel ... tricity?" Harry said slowly. "Do you... perhaps ... mean electricity, sir?"
"Do I? Is that how you say it? Blimey!" And with that, the man pulled out a worn pocket-sized spiral notebook from one pocket and then a Muggle-style Biro ink pen from another. "Could you spell that for me?"
Harry dutifully did so as Mr. Weasley copied down the information. Privately Harry thought that this might well be the most surreal moment he'd experienced since ... well, since he'd gone gnome-flinging earlier that day. Their brief conversation was suddenly interrupted by a shriek from the kitchen from Molly.
"ARTHUR WEASLEY! That boy is our guest! Do NOT badger him with silly questions about batteries and rubber duckies and other such Muggle nonsense! Now go get cleaned up! Supper's nearly done!"
Arthur sighed. "Yes, Mollywobbles." He smiled at the boy and mouthed "We'll talk later" before heading upstairs to wash up.
"Rubber duckies?!" thought Harry, as he mentally recalibrated his standard for what constituted surrealism among wizards.
Dinner was an enjoyable affair, and Molly Weasley was an excellent home cook. Afterwards, the family and Harry spent time listening to the Wizarding Wireless, playing chess and other games – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley taught Harry to play cribbage, and over the course of a game, he explained as best he could the true purpose of rubber duckies. Arthur Weasley was visibly disappointed to learn that they were merely children's toys designed to make bath time more enjoyable. Apparently, he and some of his Mugglephile coworkers were convinced that the things had some kind of deep religious significance. He also briefly took Harry outside to see his pride and joy: a 1966 Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe. According to Mr. Weasley, Expansion Charms allowed it to carry the whole family comfortably. Also, it could both fly and turn invisible, although apparently not both at the same time. After proudly announcing that fact to an amazed Harry, Mr. Weasley suddenly blushed and then asked the boy to please not tell "Mollywobbles" about that last bit, as she was apparently unaware of the nature of his "special modifications."
At ten, the family went to bed, though unwillingly on the part of Ron and the Twins. As Harry followed the Weasley children up the stairs, something caught Harry's attention. The third step from the top of the landing nearest Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room squeaked – loudly. Both Percy and Ron stepped on the offending step without even thinking about it, while the Twins stepped over it, also without seeming to think about it as if they'd had years of practice avoiding it. What really caught Harry's attention, though, was that Ginny also avoided the offending step. After a second of hesitation, Harry deliberately made a point of stepping on the squeaky board and noted both its noise and its position.
Around 2 a.m., Harry awoke with a gasp from a vivid nightmare involving Vernon Dursley's cheerful smile and the sensation of a dozen chittering doxies crawling up his back. He sat up in bed, grateful that one of the benefits of his Occlumency exercises was that he no longer cried out after nightmares. Though to be fair, he rarely cried out from nightmares before "The Doxy Incident" – that was one habit the Dursleys had quite literally beaten out of him at a very early age. Just as he was about to lie back down, he heard a faint sound from outside. Peering out the window into the moonless night, Harry could just barely make out the form of Ginny Weasley in nightgown and robe as she crept towards the family's private Quidditch pitch. Curious, Harry went to his trunk and pulled out his omnoculars. With them, he was able to watch Ginny as she deftly picked the lock on the shed with what looked like a hair pin. Then, she pulled out a broom (belonging to one of her brothers, he assumed) along with a Golden Snitch. She then spent the better part of two hours running basic Seeker drills, and very successfully from what Harry knew of the game. It was obvious that the young girl was quite skilled at flying, particularly considering that she was most likely self-taught, and she showed a clear understanding of the standard Seeker training regimen. After her impromptu training session ended, Harry watched as Ginny returned the broom and Snitch to the shed, which she relocked without difficulty.
Harry smiled and then went downstairs, careful to avoid the squeaky step. When Ginny made her way up to the back door of the house, she was startled to see Harry waiting just outside the door with two glasses of water. "I've read that it's important to rehydrate after a training session," he said with a smirk.
She froze and then looked at him angrily. "How much did you see?"
"Everything from the lock-picking on. Good technique, by the way. Did the Twins teach you to pick locks?"
"No! They just left a book on the topic hidden in my room because they didn't want Mom to find it!" She studied Harry's face for a moment. "So you've been watching me for the past two hours then? That's a bit ... creepy, isn't it?"
He laughed. "I promise my intentions were honorable. I didn't want to rat you out to your parents, but I also wanted to make sure you didn't get hurt. Those were some pretty aggressive Seeker drills you were running. Was that a Sloth Grip Roll towards the end there?"
She took the proffered glass of water with a smile. "Yeah. That was actually my first time to try it." Then she hesitated. "So you're really not going to tell on me?"
"I promise I will pretend complete ignorance of your late night shenanigans provided you promise to be careful. Some of those drills can be dangerous. But anyway, it's obvious that you want to play Quidditch, and it's equally obvious that your family doesn't want you to – presumably because you're 'the baby girl' or some such rubbish – so you're taking the initiative for yourself. I respect that. It's a perfectly Slytherin response."
Ginny looked annoyed at that. "Weasleys aren't Slytherins."
"Not true. Your grandmother Cedrella Weasley was a Slytherin, although admittedly she married into the family."
"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. I was saving your grandmother's Sorting to annoy Ron with and just haven't had the chance yet."
She laughed at that. "Grandma was Cedrella Black before she married Septimus Weasley, for which she got blasted off the Black Family tapestry. There hasn't been a child with the surname Weasley to go into Slytherin in a hundred years or more. We're Gryffindor through and through."
"Like the Potters until I came along," said Harry with a grim smile. "You know, believe it or not, the Hat offered me Gryffindor. Said I would do best in Slytherin but Gryffindor was definitely an option."
"The Hat?"
"Oh, crap. Sorry, I wasn't supposed to say. 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, okay?"
She nodded, not entirely sure she believed the Slytherin about one of the most important choices in her entire life being decided by a magical headgear. "So you could have been in Gryffindor? With your brother?"
Harry's face darkened a bit before he shook it off. "Yeah, if I'd been inclined to spend the next seven years pretending to be something I'm not and living in the shadow of more famous relatives all just to please my parents. I said no – and the Hat actually congratulated me on being sensible enough to take its advice."
By that time, the two had made their way inside and were talking softly, but not so softly that they weren't heard.
"Ginny? Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley from the top of the stairs. "What are you two doing up at this hour? It'll be dawn soon!"
Harry stepped forward before Ginny could say anything. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley. It was my fault. I woke up from a nightmare. You know, about that doxy attack. So I came down to get some water. Ginny heard me and came down to keep me company. I'm sorry we disturbed you."
"Oh! Oh, that's all right, deary! Do you need a Dreamless Sleep Potion?"
"No, thank you. I'm feeling much better now. We were just about to head back up to bed."
"Well, good night then. Or good morning, I suppose." She smiled at the boy and then went back upstairs.
Ginny was giving him a look. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a skillful liar?"
"Not really, since typically anyone who actually realized I was lying to them probably wouldn't find me very skillful. I notice you didn't jump forward to say 'actually, he was just watching me practice Quidditch at 2 a.m.'" Harry smirked.
The girl snickered. "Fair point. Anyway, I guess I am a little tired now, so I'll see you at breakfast, I suppose?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
The two climbed the stairs, this time with Ginny making sure to step on the squeaky step, apparently to reassure her mother that she was going to bed. With a smile, Harry did likewise. "When in Rome," he said to himself.
The next chapter will be posted on September 7, 2015. "Meet the Weasleys (Pt. 2). Quidditch, Cedric Diggory, Gambling. All this plus a surprising communication from the Potters.
AN: I'm looking forward to seeing what the traffic for this story is now that the nargles are no longer infecting 's tracking system.