A few weeks had gone by since his birthday and nothing too bizarre had happened. One day, the door was a bit stuck. On another, the hamper didn't clean his clothes. His money had also moved around a lot, having switched from his bag to his closet to his dresser at various points. Harry was starting to wonder if he was going crazy.

However, it clicked into place one morning when he woke up to a rustling. He stole out the room and into the kitchen where Dobby was adjusting the temperature of his freezer-cupboard from on top of the counter. After a calming breath – his first thought of hexing the creature probably would have meant more trouble in the end – he coughed loudly.

Instantly Dobby was facing the other way with eyes wider than their normal large state. 'Mr Harry Potter sir!' it squeaked. Slowly, it edged away down the counter. 'It very early. Great Mr Harry Potter sir needs plenty sleep.' Harry kept staring at Dobby, which seemed to unnerve it. 'Dobby is making sure Mr Harry Potter sir does not go. Mr Harry Potter sir must not go! If Mr Harry Potter sir gots sick from bad foods, then Mr Harry Potter sir would stay in hospital and not go. Dobby is doing what Dobby must do!'

Harry wondered what he did to deserve this pest. When no more confessions were forthcoming, he took a step towards Dobby, who cringed. Another step had Dobby shifting into a crouch, fumbling into the gap between cupboard and counter.

'Dobby be going now, but Dobby be back! Mr Harry Potter sir must not go, it not safe!' it cried before it vanished in a pop, leaving Harry staring at where it was moments before.

'Like a little grey goblin with longer, droopy ears and massive eyes? Erm, I don't mean to be rude, but are you feeling okay Harry?' Hermione asked. The two of them were sitting on her bed, Hermione holding a recap of the Dobby related events complete with description. In reply, Harry nodded and she set off on a memory search for any thing that matched, but after a few minutes she shook her head. 'I don't know what it is, but I haven't heard of it in any books. Are you sure it's not a goblin?'

Harry rolled his eyes before nodding. Taking back his notebook, he started sketching Dobby, using his own body as a size marker, where it came up to a bit above his waist. Hermione was still clueless by the time he was finished, but suggested sending the picture to Neville, Susan and Hannah and hopefully one of them would be able to either identify what creature it was or recognise the name.

It was a good few days before he got the reply, during which he had to find a lot of his "misplaced" socks. Luckily, Neville, who he sent the picture to first, was familiar with what it was and that was a house-elf.

His summary on the creature was that it was bonded as a servant to a family and could do some magic to help it do its job. There were strict magical oaths in place to prevent them from directly harming humans and would have to obey any command given to them by their master, including punishments for "bad" behaviour. Because of this, no one really cared that they could go practically wherever they want.

Harry hadn't mentioned that Dobby was randomly appeared in his room, not to keep a secret, but because he thought asking how to stop them appearing would be enough. Unfortunately, there wasn't a way to easily do it, but he could ask Dobby to stop and, as long as his master didn't order him to, it should activate his oath, or something like that. If he was being honest, Neville seemed to have looked it up from an old book and some of the wording confused him a bit, but he thought he got the general idea and so drafted his request for the next time he stumbled upon Dobby. In case it would work, he also left a couple of copies around where he thought Dobby would strike next.

It was Friday when he set them out, so there were a few more days until Sunday the 23rd, when he would be going to the Weasleys' house, or the Burrow as they called it. Nothing happened that night, but Saturday morning he found the note placed on top of his shoes moved and all the shoes in place, hoping that meant Dobby would not longer be a bother.

Saturday night, after saying long goodbyes to Hermione (he found it odd how sad he was about not seeing her for only a week while he didn't feel close to as sad about not having seen any of his other friends since his party nearly a month ago) he packed up all his clothes, leaving an outfit for the next day, and a handful of essentials into his backpack. At first he was simply going to pack the tent up with everything inside, but there was the rather obvious problem of either setting it up or being unable to get anything out of it.

As he lay in bed that night, he wondered how different the next night would be with a loudly snoring Ron across his room again, only with the added problem of no silencing spells.

Harry and Dumbledore walked up to the door in silence. It was, Harry thought, strange that someone who was his magical guardian didn't even ask him how he was. Mrs Figgs was as polite as last time, once more aiding him in his flooing when Dumbledore went on without him.

He stumbled out into a, well, he would describe it as homely, room. There were a pair of worn couches and threadbare armchairs as well as an abundance of pictures lining the walls, making it almost as though the room was alive with animated wallpaper.

'Albus, good to see you! And you must be little Harry, what a handsome lad,' said a rather rotund lady as she walked towards them. After catching his eye, she added, 'I'm Molly Weasley, Ronald, Percy and the twins mother.' The rapid delivery was completed with a gentle smile, which wasn't enough to be confused of a grin, but definitely a noticeable difference from her normal expression.

In all, Harry felt a little out of his depth as he instinctually bowed shallowly and returned the smile. Whatever else Dumbledore had to do seemed important since he almost immediately stepped back into the lime flames calling, 'Hogwarts: Headmaster's Study!' thus leaving Mrs Weasley and Harry alone.

Within a minute, like clockwork, the other Weasleys stepped in at intervals of about ten seconds, giving Mrs Weasley enough time to introduce them. Even though he already knew them all, even Ginny by reputation from the twins, he was re-told their names, ages and main interests or future job interests in the case of Percy. He supposed it was what they thought was kind in case he had forgotten any of them, even if it would be impossible to forget the twins.

In all, only the twins and Ginny actually seemed interested in him. Once the greetings were done, and he was told that he would meet Arthur at dinner when he got back from working overtime at the ministry, they were the only three that stayed. Percy had muttered something about getting a head-start on his NEWT studies; Ron said he was in the middle of a game (Fred added that he was playing chess against himself); Mrs Weasley excused herself to continue lunch preparations, though asked if he had had breakfast or if she could get him anything first.

Harry didn't mind not being the centre of the entire household, he preferred it in fact. Ginny wasn't doing anything but watching and listening, which was peculiar since she had been described as vivacious (Hermione had told him what it meant) and fierce. Still, the twins were keen to detail their expanded prank arsenal for the coming year and current ideas they were finalising in addition to an audio tour of the house and surrounding area.

They were currently in a quaint area miles from the nearest house, giving them plenty of garden space for flying and a bit of amateur farming with some fruit and veg grown. The Burrow itself was held up using extensive magic, having been continually expanded whenever extra room was needed over the preceding centuries.

Once finished telling him about the Burrow, they took him upstairs to the room he'd be sharing with Ron. His trunk was sitting at the foot of the bed and he was pleased to note that everything was as it should be. It didn't take him long to transfer his school stuff to the trunk (a set of standard second year books, though he wasn't sure if the new defence teacher would change their requirements, along with some new potions equipment and larger robes) that he had bought during the odd few visits Hermione and he had made. His backpack also entered, but that really only had his tent, non-school clothing and some of the gifts or trinkets he had picked up in the last year.

Ron wasn't in the room and the twins left to give him some time to go through everything, telling him to find the room with smoke pouring out of it when he wanted to delve into the art of pranking-potions production. Rather than head down right away, he decided to relax for a bit.

While not that unusual for him, he realised he hadn't actually written anything since arriving. At Hermione's house, he could easily go the day without holding a pen once her parents became used to styling questions for yes or no answers and Hermione was more than happy to do enough talking for the both of them.

After what he thought was about twenty minutes, he slipped off downstairs, smirking when he found that the twins were quite literal with their description.

'Oi, close the door,' George snapped while carefully pouring some viscous fluid from a small cauldron into a vial.

'Mum gets in a right mood when we smoke out the house,' Fred added, stirring another cauldron full of bubbling pink. Harry hastily complied, picking up a spare pair of goggles Fred pointed to. 'Caught us mid-brew I'm afraid.'

'So you'll have to wait a few minutes for us to finish up,' George continued.

'Before we can get to the good stuff!' they finished in unison. Harry watched on in fascination as they soldiered on, consulting each other and complex notes that were scattered around them while professionally making the potions in a way that he thought even Snape could not fault.

In the end, it was closer to half an hour when they were bottling up their produce, but Harry would've been willing to watch all day. Holding a small test tube of what had earlier been pink but was now a horrible shade of purple, Fred said, 'We merrily present to you Weasley's No-Bye-Dye!'

Picking up where his brother began, George said, 'A lovely liquid that stains hair horrendous shades of the rainbow.'

'While also resistant to muggle and magical means of cover-up!' Fred gleefully added with a grin.

'It overpowers all the muggle hair-dyes we tested.'

'The colour change charm doesn't affect it.'

'Vanishing will take the hair off with it.'

'Glamours can dull the colour.'

'But not completely obscure it.'

'The only problem is it doesn't work on bald people.'

'Yet!' they announced together. Harry couldn't help but laugh and wonder how they had tested all of that when they couldn't do magic. Of course, a quick look around the room revealed random plastic bottles and bits and bobs. Scurrying in the one corner was a rat a with a violet midsection, so Harry guessed that their parents had tried – and failed – to remove the colouring from the rat.

'Our other product,' George said, holding a test tube of the earlier goop, only it now looked more like tar.

'Is inspired by something muggles call adhesives.'

'Basically a super-sticking charm in a tube.'

'But ours loses potency after an hour or so.'

'So we proudly present Weasley's Sitting-duck Super-glue!'

'Great for keeping a target in place.'

'For another prank to get them.'

'Or just making them late for something or other.'

'Whatever you use it for.'

'We guarantee an hour of top notch sticking!'

Harry watched as they proved their point by delicately lifting a blanket over their equipment into a corner of the room, applying a small blob of the stuff to opposite ends of the blanket and folding it in half across its width before adding another blob and sticking it to the adjacent walls as a kind of hammock. Fred proceeded to get in while George held it steady.

Once snuggly in, Fred started rocking slightly with no sign of either end coming loose. It wasn't long after that when George gave a pull during a swing and ended up tipping Fred out onto the floor, sending himself into hysterics.

Using his survival instincts, Harry backed up to the wall as Fred got his revenge using some kind of blue potion that completely removed one of George's eyebrows. With no ceasefire in place, Harry thought it prudent to be elsewhere in the house before being caught in the crossfire.

Unsure of exactly what he could do, he went down to the kitchen to see if Mrs Weasley needed any help. It was an odd room that linked the main staircase to both the front and back door in an L-shape. There were a few chairs by the one section of counter, passing as a small place for snacking, while another door led into the dining room.

Upon entering, Ginny was in the middle of speaking to her mother, though she froze when Harry approached.

'Oh Harry! Anything I can get you? Lunch will be ready in an hour or so,' Mrs Weasley said, only turning from the chopping of carrots for a moment to give him a warm smile.

He shook his head and pulled out his notebook, writing, 'I was wondering if you needed any help Mrs Weasley?'

'Oh Harry,' she again said, practically cooing. 'In this house, cooking is for the girls. Isn't that right Ginny?' The girl in question squeaked under Harry's gaze, shrinking back slightly. Mrs Weasley leaned towards him and added, in a conspirational whisper, 'Bless her, such a sweet, shy girl, not like those other ones,' practically hissing "other" before seamlessly switching back and finishing with another smile.

Unsure of what to do, he nodded and gave each a polite smile before returning back upstairs. Pressing his ear to the twins' door revealed they were still at it, with what could easily have been multiple small explosions going off inside. With nothing better to do, he returned to the shared bedroom and pulled out the Potter album, losing himself in his parents' lives.

The following morning, Harry begrudgingly got up. Today was the first of a week of intensive training and he was quite confident that it would be the last time in a while that he would get up without feeling like he was made of lead.

Downstairs, he joined the twins at the kitchen counter where a pile of toast and various spreads were out. They too seemed resigned to their fate, unusually glum while they ate in silence. Afterwards, they each procured their brooms, giving them a clean and tweaking the bristles into shape to pass the time.

When Mrs Weasley woke up and trundled down, the twins managed to convince her that stuffing Harry full of food wouldn't be a good idea when he planned on doing a lot of flying and he was thankful for it. A little before seven, a bit of stumbling and shuffling from the living room sounded, followed by the three chasers joining them.

At seven sharp, there was activity again and Wood walked through, beaming, and asked, 'Ready?'

Three days later and Harry struggled out of bed. If he didn't have the opportunity to sleep in until ten today, he wasn't sure he would have been able to get up at all. As it was, today was the day scheduled for shopping. While he did buy most of what he needed before, he hadn't actually had the official list of requirements and it turned out that the new defence teacher changed the books to most of the work by a Gilderoy Lockhart, who was apparently a world renowned fighter against the dark arts.

Harry wasn't quite so sure after hearing he had supposedly slain a basilisk with nothing more than a sword and a shield, but it wasn't really a problem so long as their new teacher knew what they were doing.

When he (eventually) made it to breakfast, he was surprised to find he wasn't the last one there. After becoming adjusted to the snoring, he had completely missed that Ron was still asleep. Given how much Ron ate, Harry was wondering what exactly he did to burn off all the food when his hobbies were seemingly eating, chess, talking about quidditch and sleeping. Well, to give him some credit, he did also play quidditch, but Harry wasn't sure that it was actually real exercise and, if it was, then keeper was certainly not much at all.

While he was thinking of odd Weasley habits, Harry was thoroughly confused by Ginny. Sometimes he wondered if she was actually one of a set of twins, since she acted like two people. There were glimpses of the girl the twins described every now and then when he would walk into a room or hear her (verbally) cursing her brothers at various points. Other times, she would act so timid he would forget she was even in the room. If he wasn't good friends with three other girls, he might have put it down to that.

Arthur, though, was by far his favourite Weasley so far. Like all wizards raised in magical households he had met, there was a certain oddness to him as well as a lack of common sense, especially when the topic was muggles. That his job was about muggle items didn't seem to help all that much. The first night Harry was treated to a tour of his shed, where there were piles of bits and pieces from various electric devices, most notably a collection of plugs that included foreign ones. That he didn't know the right way to say electricity wasn't much of a bother for Harry and was soon forgotten as he made use of his muggle upbringing to shed some light on sections. For the finale though, Harry was introduced to Arthur's pride and joy: a modified Ford Anglia that included speed boosts, invisibility, an expanded interior and much more. While Arthur may not know about electricity, a look under the hood revealed that he was right at home with anything mechanical. Harry was content to listen to Arthur detail the runes and enchantments he used all night long, but Mrs Weasley (Harry wasn't sure why he thought of her as Mrs Weasley rather than Molly) put a stop to it citing an early rise.

Despite wanting to continue the chat, Harry was simply close to collapse from exhaustion after each day and barely stayed up an hour after dinner. Since Arthur had taken the day off to aide in the transport of children and purchases, Harry was hoping to spend the afternoon doing so and maybe finally getting the twins to introduce him to making his own potions, something he was looking forward to trying the next summer when he had too much free time again. Then again, he thought learning a bit about runes could be fun if he didn't have to use magic with them.

Before he knew it, Mrs Weasley was corralling them around the fireplace, giving out instructions and warnings, most of those directed to the twins. Arthur was through first, declaring, 'Diagon Alley!' as he stepped into the lime flames. Percy, Ginny, Ron and the twins followed by.

Mrs Weasley then stared at him expectantly and he wondered if she would twig before he could explain why he wasn't flooing. Relying on his observations of magically raised people, he decided waiting could take a while and so got out and his pad and wrote, 'Could you say the place for me?'

He honestly thought that it would click something into place instantly, but she took a few seconds still. 'Of course dear, Diagon Alley!' With that, he stepped into the disorientating ride. Despite being quite ready to fall flat on his face upon arrival, he wasn't quite ready to come out sideways, his elbows and knees smacking on the floor before he rolled into some chairs.

Sometimes he hated being a wizard and lying on the floor with sore muscles and battered joints was one such time. When he finally opened his eyes, a crack ran through the one lens and the other seemed wonky. He hoped Arthur knew a spell for fixing glasses, like Hermione had used when they first met on the Express.

'I have to say, Harry, that is the first time I've seen someone exit like that,' Arthur said, stifling his mirth while pulling Harry up. As he hoped, Arthur did know the spell and the crack thinned into nothingness while the other swivelled slightly. The others present, besides Percy and including the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, were vocal in their amusement of his situation.

'What did I miss?' Mrs Weasley asked after elegantly stepping out of the fireplace and giving her arms a little dust to remove the unnoticeable traces of soot.

Arthur sighed and said, 'Nothing Molly. Shall we get going? No doubt it will be packed and we do want to be back for lunch after all.'

She narrowed her eyes, but nodded. The Weasley clan plus Harry hastily made their way out the back of the pub, stopping by the wall that marked the true entrance to Diagon Alley. A tap of Arthur's wand on the right stones sent it folding in on itself until it an arch, through which they strolled.

Harry had no idea what plan Mrs Weasley was following, but he knew it was going to take them an extra hour at the least if she insisted on visiting the shops in an order that required them to traipse virtually the length of the alley every time. For another unknown reason, she kept asking Harry if he needed to buy whatever they were currently looking at, even though he had told her he only needed the Gilderoy Lockhart books.

He hoped Mrs Weasley didn't have some kind of brain problem, but he was convinced she wasn't all there.

Rather than an hour later, as Mrs Weasley had predicted, but a little over two hours later, as Harry had thought, they were onto their final stop: Flourish and Blotts. Any hopes he had of getting in and out quickly were dashed when he noticed that the queue was from the book store and not, as he previously thought, the quidditch store (the new Nimbus 2001 was out.)

It was only when they were close to entering did he notice that Mrs Weasley had started acting even stranger and began giggling while whispering, 'Gil-de-roy' between bursts. Given that most of the queue, who were witches, were doing the same, Harry was starting to wonder if he had befriended the only sane witches alive. That thought died shortly after seeing Hermione in the queue, but didn't get a chance to go over as the rest of his group bustled him along inside.

Based on the advertising, Lockhart was doing a book signing, including a special announcement at one in the afternoon, for any fans who had already bought his book or books. As it was, the inside of the store, once you got away from the desk where Lockhart sat, was virtually empty. Mrs Weasley hastily shuffled the various parchments, snatching up books left, right and centre while perusing the aisles.

Surprisingly, when it came to getting the Lockhart books, it turned out that the twins, Percy and Ginny also needed the same set of books. Harry was beginning to doubt the ability of their new professor if he'd be teaching seventh years with the same reading as first years, but was glad that he didn't have OWLs or NEWTs to take this year.

Harry took his own set down, but before taking five sets of the books for their own children, the elder Weasleys held a short conversation away from prying ears, after which only three sets were removed. Mrs Weasley whispered that the twins would have to share with each other and Ginny with her other two brothers, something Harry thought he wasn't supposed to hear. He wondered if he would be able to convince them to let him pay for the extra sets, but doubted it. The books were overpriced and having to buy thirty-five of them in total was steep. Even fourteen of them cost more than the rest of the books that they would be buying.

On the way out, Mrs Weasley seemed to lose her last bits of sanity as she thrust the various bags towards the rest and said, 'Oh Arthur, I have something important to do if you wouldn't mind taking the children home!' She then dropped the bags, apart from one with Ron's books. In a flash, she darted out and to the back of the line.

Arthur could only shake his head, picking up what bags he could while Percy and the twins took the rest. Leading the rest out, they were passing Lockhart's stall when a pompous voice cried out, 'If it isn't Harry! Come here Harry, don't be shy!'

Despite every instinct telling him not to, Harry turned to face whoever had called him. Lockhart was beckoning him over, the crowd parting for him. An older man with familiarly blonde hair and nose beside him, making Harry think it could easily be Lucius Malfoy. Given that said Malfoy wasn't glaring at him, Harry thought back to Zabini's advice and didn't want to provoke the man.

So, with hesitance, Harry joined the table, the crowd closing up behind him. 'It has been too long, hasn't it Harry? Why, the last time I saw you, you were barely passed my knee! Enough of the past though, you are no doubt here for school supplies, are you not?'

Harry was wondering why exactly Lockhart seemed to be insisting they knew each other, but decided he didn't really care as this would probably be the last time they ever saw each other. In answer to his question though, he nodded.

'Excellent! No doubt you need a set of books, at no cost for a family friend, and signed to my number one fan, don't you think ladies?'

The closest witches cooed and clapped and cheered while Lockhart asked Malfoy to hand over a set of his books which he then signed, offering them to Harry as though they were jewels rather than books of, what Harry was now sure were, lies. Not one to shun a gift when he knew it would be a perfect excuse to give the Weasleys a set, he graciously accepted them.

'Now, onto my other bit of news as it is close to enough to the time, is it not?' Again, the witches cheered. 'It is my great honour to announce that I have been asked to take on the position as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year!'

While everyone else was lost in their whooping, Harry, in his astonishment and disgust, dropped the books.

'Yes, Harry, quite a shock! I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but sometimes grown-ups can't tell you everything for your own good. How about some pictures for the Daily Prophet?' Without waiting for a reply, Lockhart grabbed Harry's arm and pulled around the table so Harry was firmly beside him.

Harry tried to wriggle free, but Lockhart wouldn't release his right arm and it was starting to scare him. He pulled a pen out and messily wrote, 'Help!' on a loose piece of paper on the desk while Lockhart was busy grinning for the photographer and muttering advice on smiling between shots.

When Harry held up his plea, he got quite the smirk from the photographer and a flash followed. Seconds after, Arthur had managed to get over and firmly stated, 'Mr Lockhart, I'm afraid Harry must be going now, so you will let go of him.'

The fire that went with that command had Harry's opinion of Arthur soaring. Lockhart, adept at reading situations, complied, though those close-by were glaring at Arthur and Harry. Desperate to escape, he didn't pay much attention, heading for the exit until he heard a different person loudly drawling, 'Mr Potter, you appear to have forgotten your books.'

He turned and found Mr Malfoy levitating a pile of books for him from his seat. Confused as he was, he smiled and shallowly bowed before taking them back, having the odd sensation of them being heavier than before, but shrugged it off as paranoia from the crude words being whispered that were about him.

Outside the store, he let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The twins gave him a sympathetic word while Ron was scowling at him for some reason. Harry didn't think Ron was a fan of Lockhart, but he hadn't really talked much with him. Ginny looked torn between glaring and hiding behind her father. Hoping to mend the non-existent relationship (as she hadn't actually said a word to him, only squawks), he switched his walking so he ended up beside her and offered her the books. After a brief look at Arthur, and a nod back, she accepted and squealed, 'Thank you!' before scurrying back slightly so she wasn't in direct view of Harry again, tightly hugging the books.

It wasn't quite a conversation, but he thought it a start. He wondered if he would ever meet that little prankster the twins had so fondly told him about. There was another six years of Hogwarts for him to try and find out, but he hoped it wouldn't take that long.

Wood was kind enough to give them Monday off, so Harry spent his last day of the holidays relaxing and wondering what the coming year at school would throw at him. He was glad he had actual defence books to read over (a quick flick through "Swimming with ghouls" didn't reveal anything of any use) and was desperately hoping that he didn't have to spend any time in the infirmary.

Apart from eating and the calls of nature, he didn't leave his bed, opting to slip in and out of dreams throughout the day and night until it was time to leave. The twins had warned him about leaving. Not only would someone always be late packing, someone (or some people) would forget something (or some things.) Despite leaving at nine and the station only being an hour away, they turned up, in the Ford Anglia, with five minutes to go before the Express departed at eleven.

After all the Weasleys were bustled through, Harry went to stroll through the faux barrier that separated platform 9¾ from the station. However, rather than slip through it, his trolley hit brick, jolting his arms and nearly knocking off his trunk.

Pressing his hand against it, Harry found the barrier very much solid and cursed his luck. Turning to Hedwig on his shoulder, she shook her head and Harry found the defeated gesture summarising how he felt.

Author notes

Well, not much to say really. Harry had quite the hard week and it's not giving him a break. I decided to tone down the Weasley section as it was fairly dull, shifting it to more a Harry-recap and extending the Dobby part. If anyone is worried about SPEW, it won't be making an appearance this year, but Hermione will have an introduction of sorts to them. For any who missed, Hermione's present was a set of art paper and pencils.

Unstorily, I've been thinking about putting this story on a hiatus and working on a new idea for a bit. One, that I'm liking, is Harry enters the world of dating after getting a kiss from Fleur for saving her sister in the second task and covers his interaction with Sirius and various girls. Another fluffy idea is, in fifth year, Luna discovers the prophecy early on in the year and comes to the same conclusion that love is the power. She then takes it on as a challenge to get Harry a harem and so follows her dealings with goblins, lords and teenage girls (after embarrassing Harry by getting all the pertinent details.) If I did, I would be tempted to go for the former and it would probably only be 50k words designed to go alongside canon up to the third task. Any thoughts on this are greatly appreciated.

Anyway, until next time, a goblin a day keeps your gold growing.

Edit: Still having upload problems, but found a work around! Hurrah for search engines!