The Burrow and the World Cup

Harry woke groggily, senses slow to awaken in the late morning sun. He was warm, and his left side felt heavy and restrained. It was a good kind of heavy, he thought, taking a deep breath. His eyes shot open, and he was instantly alert as he inhaled the very familiar scent of Hermione. Looking down, his heart started to race as he saw why his left side was heavy. Hermione was sleeping there, curled up into the crook of his arm.

Her dad is going to kill me Harry thought, debating whether to try and extricate himself or just enjoy his last few minutes alive. Realizing there was no way to get up without waking Hermione, and that she was far scarier than her father, he lay back and tried to relax into the bed. Bed? He thought, how'd I end up in the bed?

"Easy Harry," A calm voiced Anne soothed from the chair in the room. "It's ok."

Harry looked down at Hermione curled up against him, then looked back at Anne as if to say 'Are you off your rocker?'

"I know you probably think this looks bad, and her father is going to kill you," An amused Anne chuckled, "But he was there when we all agreed to let you two finish the night together, and Madam Pomfrey moved you into the bed."

"What happened?" Harry asked groggily.

"You had a bad nightmare. Before Poppy could even get up, Hermione was there. She calmed you down, and after seeing how content you both were, we agreed to let you sleep the rest of the night that way."

"Everything went ok though?" Harry pressed, "Hermione didn't have as much trouble?"

"Yes, everything is fine," Anne reassured the teen, "Both Poppy and Minerva are content and expect that she should be able to weather the full moons at school without too much issue. They went to bed once Hermione changed back."

"Good," Harry sighed, looking down at the girl in his arms, "I'm glad she'll be ok."

"Me too, dear," Anne agreed, "But enough of that, it's nearly time to go. Let's get you two up and dressed, so Mr. Weasley won't be waiting on you two."

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry enquired, "Why would… Oh yeah, it's the world cup tomorrow."

"Did you have to remind him, Mother?" Hermione's sleepy voice came from Harry's chest, "I was rather enjoying myself, until you got him wound up."

"Sorry dear," Anne chuckled, "But Mr. Weasley will be here in about twenty minutes, so it was time to get up anyway."

A short time later, once the pair had dressed and finished packing, they made their way downstairs to breakfast. Hermione had styled her hair in such a way her ears were hidden, and could remain so until she was ready for others to see them. They had discussed it and decided telling all the Weasleys at once would be best.

George was already there and nursing a cup of tea while reading the morning paper. At the end of the table, a clearly ragged Auror Tonks was guarding her breakfast as if it would run away if she looked anywhere else. Neither Hogwarts teacher was present, but Anne was humming away as she cooked more eggs in the kitchen.

"Morning dad," Hermione called, giggling to herself as Harry surreptitiously placed her between her dad and himself.

"Morning kiddo," George returned, "Sleep well?"

"Oh yes, very well, thank you." Hermione answered cheerily and managed to hold her laughter in for all of three or four seconds at Harry's beat red blush in response to her answer.

"Hurry up and eat you two," Anne said, placing a plate in front of both of them, "Mr. Weasley should be here any minute."

Harry had just finished his toast when they heard two cracks from the back yard. Poking her head into the living room to look out the back window, Anne commented "I do believe that Mr. Weasley has arrived. And I'm guessing that's one of his sons with him."

Harry and Hermione moved quickly to the back door, opening it to reveal Mr. Weasley and an older boy with the same shocking red hair. Unlike his brothers, this Weasley brother had long straight hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was dressed rather well in a pair of brown leather trousers, a tan linen tunic, and a Black dragon hide vest. An earring that appeared to be made out of some creature's tooth rounded out the outfit, for an overall rugged look.

"Harry, Hermione," Mr. Weasley greeted the pair, "This is Ron's' oldest brother, Bill. Are you both ready for the World cup?"

"We are, Sir," Harry answered for both, "Thank you again for having us."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Weasley chuckled, then turned to the Grangers, "I'd love to stay and chat, but we have a portkey to catch."

"We understand," George said, helping Harry and Hermione with their trunks. "And thank you for taking them to King's Cross after the Cup."

"No bother at all, I assure you." Arthur said, as Bill shrunk the trunks and Hedwig's cage, "I just wish they could have had more time with us this summer."

"Yeah," Anne looked sideways at her husband, "Sorry about that, but we already had plans that couldn't be changed."

"Oh, we understand," Arthur assured the couple, then turned to the teens. "It just would have been nice to have them around. You both ready to go?"

A nod from both, and they were split up. Hermione with Arthur, and Harry with Bill. A quick warning later, and Hermione and Arthur disappeared with a crack. Harry started to exclaim but suddenly he felt himself being turned and felt like he was being squeezed through a rather small straw, before suddenly he was standing in front of the Burrow in the pre-dawn light.

A rather tall edifice, it still defied logic in its haphazard look. Hermione eyed the building warily, like she expected it to collapse at any moment.

"It's ok Hermione, it may not look like much, but it's a lovely place." Harry assured his best friend, then noted her look of disbelief, "Don't worry Hermione, I promise it is perfectly safe."

"If you say so, Harry," Hermione replied skeptically, taking his hand.

As they entered the house, Harry was greeted with the familiar smell of fresh baking bread from the cozy kitchen. He could see the sitting room through the doorway, and dishes were once again washing themselves in the sink. Four of the other Weasley children were sitting around the table eating breakfast: Ginny, the twins, and Percy.

"Harry!"

Harry only had about half a second to brace himself before Mrs. Weasley's hug threatened to crack his ribs. It was slightly suffocating and not entirely unexpected, yet also reassuring. As Harry felt Hermione being pulled into the hug, he reflected on the differences between the Weasleys and the Grangers. Both families had welcomed him, let him into their lives, but in such different ways. The Weasleys had treated him as one of their own, tried to make him one of their own even. Mrs. Weasley was a good woman, and Harry was sure she meant well but had basically taken over any choices he had, deciding what was best for him. He hadn't thought much of it before, but after his time at the Grangers, it was fairly obvious now. Mrs. Weasley ruled her family with an iron will. It was what she thought was best and that was it. Compared to how he'd seen the Granger family function, it was like night and day. The Grangers, while they may have had the final say, had discussed and accepted input from both Harry and Hermione before deciding anything. They may have still decided on a path not preferred by either of the teens, but they had listened. He hadn't seen much of that at the Weasleys.

"Well sit down and have yourselves some breakfast," Molly commanded releasing the pair, "We'll get you fed up right before you've got to leave."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Hermione responded, "But we ate with my folks before we left."

"Oh," A disappointed Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Well never mind that then, best be getting your things settled then. You'll be with Ginny, dear," addressing Hermione, "And Harry, you'll be with Ron. Go on, and take your things up. And Harry, dear, see if you can get Ron up, would you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, "Here, Hermione, I'll help you with your trunk."

"Ron!" Harry said loudly, trying to wake the red-headed teen.

"Snarfel garf." was the only response he seemed to be able to get.

"Here Harry, Let me try." Hermione said from behind him. Turning and spotting the witch with her wand out, Harry quickly cleared the line of fire, "Aguamenti."

"Gerrofit!" cried Ron, bolting upright in his bed as the small stream of cold water splashed across his face. "What's the big idea?"

"It's almost time to leave Ronald," Hermione said sternly, "You'd best get going if you want any breakfast before we leave."

"You could've just woke me up normally." Ron retorted crustily.

"We tried mate," Harry defended Hermione. "You refused to wake up."

"Well," the sullen boy continued, "you could have tried harder."

"Oh lighten up, mate." Harry replied, "It's just a little water." Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione. An arched eyebrow of question was met with a slight shake of her head, telling him she wasn't ready to tell him yet. "Come on, and get dressed mate, or you won't get any breakfast."

Once Ron had started eating a few minutes later, Hermione realized she was running out of time. Screwing up her Gryffindor Courage, she stood from the table where everyone was discussing the coming day. Taking a deep breath, she paused when she felt Harry's hand on hers in support, then began.

"Everyone," she started, waiting for the side conversations to die down, "Something happened to me this summer you should know about."

"What is it dear?" Molly asked concerned, "Are you ok?"

"Yes Mrs. Weasley," Hermione continued, "But there are some things that have changed and as my friends, you need to know about them."

"What happened dear?" Arthur asked.

"Well, second year I had a mishap with a contaminated potion." Hermione began, sticking to the story Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey had outlined for them, "Ron knows the one I'm talking about."

"You mean the one where you tried to turn yourself into a cat?" Ron chuckled.

"RON!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

"What?" Ron protested, "It's not my fault she messed up."

"That's not what happened and you know it," Harry declared, standing by his friend. "Now shut up, and let Hermione finish."

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said quietly, "Well, despite Ron's abhorrent thoughts on the matter, I am talking about the mishap that had me looking like a Cat for a week." She sighed, gathering herself. She drew strength from Harry as he placed his hand on her shoulder in support. "It seems that the potion wasn't purged, but merely neutralized. And it has returned, though not in the same force."

"What do you mean dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked confusedly.

Sighing, Hermione carefully pulled her wand out, and cast a quiet "Finite". A shimmer around her not only exposed ears, but drew the attention of the others to them. The tawny ears peeking out of her bushy hair caused Molly to gasp. The twins were mercifully silent, and Ginny had an odd look on her face but also kept quiet. Ron however, spewed a mouthful of food across the table as his laughter broke loud and raucous through the air.

"Bwahaha," Ron gasped for breath from laughing so hard, "Guess if we start finding hairballs around Gryffindor tower, we know who to blame."

"RON!" Molly gasped, shocked at her son, "Apologize this instant!"

"What?" Ron asked indignantly, "I was just teasing." And tried to return to eating his breakfast, not noticing the looks around him. Both twins slowly moved away from their brother, out of the path of any retribution. Hermione had turned and been enfolded into a protective hug from Harry, while Molly looked ready to erupt at her youngest sons utter lack of respect.

"This is neither the time nor the place." Molly cut Ron off, pulling his plate away from him. "Nor is it right to tease a friend like that."

"But, Mum, it's only Hermione."

"Ron," Harry's quiet voice cut through the din surrounding Ron's comment. It spoke of cold, hard, barely leashed fury, as though anyone unfortunate enough to hear it would be lucky to live out the day. "You need to apologize, and you need to do it now."

"Yeah, sure, sorry Hermione." Ron said off hand, oblivious to the tone of Harry's warning. He then tried to stab one last sausage off his plate before Molly got it out of reach. He failed and a pout appeared on his face. "Bugger. I was still eating that," he complained to his mother.

"Not with that attitude you're not." Molly berated him, "Now get ready, you have to leave soon to catch the portkey."

"Hermione?" Ginny asked softly. Hermione looked up from where she'd buried herself in Harry's arms, a flighty look in her eyes, like she was preparing herself to run. "Do, do they work? Your ears, i mean. Do you hear out of them, or are they just kind of extra?"

"Yes, they are fully functional," Harry responded for her, "She's also very self-conscious about the changes since this has surfaced. So, thank you for not making a big deal out of it."

"Hermione" one of the twins started,

"Madam," the other said as they both bowed to her.

"Such fine ears you have,"

"Such sweet ears indeed,"

"Please forgive our younger brother."

"Our prat brother, you mean, dear brother,"

"Of course, less attractive brother, I meant that."

"As you say, less intelligent brother,"

"As we were saying,"

"We still like you, dear Hermione,"

"And we love those ears,"

"Harry, too. Even if somewhat more so,"

"He does?"

"Can't you seen it?"

"Ah yes, the reddening of the truth,"

"The blush of bewilderment,"

"The ear tips from an earful,"

"STOP!" Hermione cried, grinning a little. "You're making my head hurt."

"Perish the thought," one of the twins grinned back, before the pair caught the look their mother was giving them, and they beat a hasty retreat.

The next morning, Harry was wondering if he'd ever have anything approaching a normal experience. Oh, despite Ron being a massive git, the day had started fairly well, all things considered. After Hermione's admission, the Weasleys as a whole had been supportive, even Mrs. Weasley in her own smothering sort of way. Ginny, while still quiet and withdrawn, had been accepting of Hermione's new circumstances, though the odd looks she kept throwing Hermione and he were different. A short hike later, after meeting Cedric Diggory and his father, Harry had discovered yet another means of magical transportation that hated him: Portkeys.

Apparently, just about anything can be made into a portkey, but wizards, in their infinite wisdom, chose the most unusual, preferably fetid, items imaginable. A dank, mangy, old boot had Harry and company spinning and twisting for over a minute before depositing them in an unceremonious pile hundreds of miles from where they started. About the only good thing that had come out of that was he'd landed underneath Hermione, rather than the other way around. He could have done without having his face mashed into the remains of the boot, however.

After extricating themselves from the piles, and Harry had helped Mr. Weasley pay the poor muggle farmer for the campsite, things seemed to be going well. They'd set up the wizard tent Mr. Weasley had borrowed, and together with Fred, George, Ginny, and a reluctant Ron, Harry and Hermione had set off exploring. It didn't take long for a sullen Ron to go off on his own, joined by a still quiet Ginny. The twins had run off to find their friend Lee Jordan, leaving just Harry and Hermione to meander the stalls of the market that had sprung up.

They'd made their way towards the stadium erected for the event, browsing on their way there before making their purchases on the way back. Despite her protests, Harry insisted on buying both of them a pair of omnioculars. He also bought a rosette and Hermione found a book on the history of the world cup, probably the only thing quidditch related that she'd buy.

The game itself was interesting. After helping Mr. Weasley stop Ron and the Twins from making fools of themselves when the Bulgarian Veela appeared, Harry, who was curiously unaffected, and Hermione had settled down to enjoy the game. Harry was confused at the nod he received from the Bulgarian Minister, but he'd nodded back, and returned his attention to the game. As he watched the action, Harry reflected back on his own quidditch playing, and how it compared to the game he was seeing. When Krum ran Lynch into the ground with his Wronski Feint, he was excited to try it but looked over at Hermione and realized just how he must make her feel each time he played. And how justified her anger at him for worrying her after each of the many times he'd gotten hurt was. He resolved to do better, somehow, in the future, but still wanted to try it.

The celebration afterwards was incredible; the Irish really knew how to get their party on. Until the Death Eaters had shown up, that is. The cries of joy and booms of fireworks morphed into cries of pain and booms of spellfire with startling suddenness. Chaos reigned and panic ensued. Fred and George were placed in charge of Ginny as Mr. Weasley and Bill went to help. The six of them had run for the woods, before getting separated. The twins and Ginny had run off with the crowd, leaving Harry and Hermione with Ron.

Once they made the forest, the trouble started. First, Ron had much more trouble than either Harry or Hermione navigating the darkened trees. Trying to help their struggling friend just seemed to make it worse. They happened upon Draco Malfoy, leaning on a tree at the top of a hill, staring back at the burning campsites in rapt fascination. While Harry fended off his crass comments about 'muggles getting their just treatment', Ron disappeared.

Searching for their lost friend proved fruitless, even with the heightened senses of the two teens. There was just too much chaos. They backtracked, searching for a way to find their friends, looking for any sign of organization or someone in charge. They found none; they did, however, find a Death Eater.

They found a single Death Eater after hearing someone shout 'Morsmordre'. The flash of green that accompanied the cry had them slinking closer, trying to figure out what was going on. The lone figure, standing in the middle of a clearing, stood over a crumpled form and was looking up, seeming to bask in the eerie green light coming from above. Looking up, they spied the source: a giant glowing green skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.

"The Dark Mark," Hermione gasped, tightening her grip on Harry's arm.

"He must be one of them," Harry whispered, watching as the man's attention returned to the figure on the ground, a red-headed figure. It was Ron! "That's Ron."

Before Hermione could act, Harry was moving. He slipped out of her grip and brought his wand up, calling out "Stupefy!" as he started to circle the figure clockwise.

A negligent sweep of the figure's wand deflected his stunner, and a chuckle escaped the man's lips.

"No time now, Potter," he cackled, "Don't worry though, the master has plans for you; your time will come."

Seeing Hermione behind the man, Harry sent another pair of stunners at him, as Hermione quietly cast her curse at the man's back. He dodged Harry's attacks, but the red bolt of Hermione's curse struck true, and his wand was ripped from his hand as it sailed towards Hermione. The figure twirled, seeing Hermione for the first time.

"You'll get yours as well, Mudblood," He snarled. He started to continue when multiple Cracks sounded, cutting him off. Multiple spells flew through the air, as Harry dove to the ground to avoid being hit. He never saw exactly what happened to the man, but he did hear another crack come from his direction before there were more shouts.

"Cease fire," Mr. Weasley was yelling, running to the center of the clearing. "That's my son!"

Another man in Ministry robes hurried up as Harry and Hermione joined Arthur by his son. "Which of you did it, which of you conjured the Mark?" He demanded, pointing his wand at each in turn.

"Barty!, They're just kids," Amelia Bones' voice cut through the din, "I'm sure neither Mr. Potter nor Miss Granger conjured the mark."

"They were found at the scene Amelia," the older man continued, undeterred. "One of them must have done it."

"No sir," Hermione said with a forced calm, "There was another man here. He overpowered Ron and used his wand to conjure the mark. We managed to disarm him, but he disapparated when you appeared."

"Likely story," The man continued, turning his wand towards Hermione.

"Stop terrorizing the children, Barty!" Amelia barked, shoving his wand away from Hermione, noting that Harry's wand finally lowered as well. She hadn't seen it rise. "How's the boy, Arthur?"

"Just stunned," Mr. Weasley responded, "He'll be right as rain in a few."

"Good. Take your children home, Arthur," Amelia instructed. "Then come in to the Ministry. It's going to be a long day."