Chapter Two: In the Burrow

As Harry opened the gate and stepped onto the path leading up to the crooked house Ron was leaning against the door frame, tapping his wand against his arm with a frown on his face. "Where have you two been?"

Ginny scowled at him. "Mum and Dad don't have a problem with me spending time with my boyfriend. You're just jealous because Hermione is too busy tracking down her parents to spend time with you."

Ron's ears turned red, and he opened his mouth to start arguing, but Harry got there first. "Please, just drop it. It's not worth it, is it?" Ron muttered something to his feet, and Ginny looked sheepish. Harry ran a hand through his hair. "That's probably an owl from Hermione now," he said, nodding at the large grey bird soaring towards the kitchen window. He pushed past Ron, stepping into the cool gloom of the hallway. Ginny muttered an apology to the still irate Ron, and slipped into the living room to continue her book.

He strolled into the kitchen, nodded a greeting at Mrs. Weasley, and grabbed the overexcited owl by a foot, stopping it from fluttering around the light fittings. He glanced at the two letters it carried and tossed one to Ron, who fumbled his catch and narrowly avoided dropping the envelope in the dish of water Mrs. Weasley had put out for the exhausted owl. Harry snorted, and tore off the top of the envelope to read the note written in Hermione's elegant script.

Dear Harry,

I know it's not been long since I last wrote, but I've just managed to track down Mum and Dad, and when I lifted the memory charm I had to persuade them we were on holiday in Australia. I'm still here now, so I don't know how long this letter will take to reach you.

I hope everything is well at The Burrow. But of course it will be well! I still have to keep telling myself everything is back to normal. Have you heard anything about Hogwarts reopening? Will they let us retake our 7th year? You will let me know the instant you hear anything, won't you? I would hate to think I was missing out on any time I could be preparing!

I'll probably be back next week, and I can come to the Burrow to see you boys. Give my love to everyone!

Goodbye for now,

Hermione.

Harry looked up to see Ron about halfway through his much longer letter. His ears were slowly turning a vivid shade of red. He pulled out a chair and sprawled at the table, waiting for Ron to finish.

He wasn't waiting too long before Ron looked up and noticed him grinning at him. "Told you it was from Hermione," he said. Ron folded up his letter and put it reverently in his pocket. "What was yours about?"

"It's Hermione," Harry replied. "What do you expect? She asked how we were, and then started asking about school. What did yours say?"

Ron gazed at his feet, looking embarrassed. "Oh, pretty much the same…" Ron's discomfort was saved by a soft knock on the door. "Don't worry, mum, I'll get it," he yelled whilst retreating down the hallway, if only to escape Harry's knowing grin.

He returned a few moments later trailed by Mr. Weasley.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly. Mr. Weasley responded with an exhausted peck on the cheek and a strained grin at the two boys at the kitchen table.

Ron grimaced at his father. "Still doing the Auror's paperwork for them?"

Mr. Weasley ran a hand over his growing bald patch. "I wish. They had three of us from the Misuse of Muggle artifacts out with five of them to apprehend a suspect."

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "What, a Death Eater? What happened?"

"We got him. Jugson. We're really starting to crack down on the ones who got away," he said, his face set in a determined frown. "And this means another trial for you, Harry."

Harry groaned inwardly, but nodded in a resigned manner. Who better to give evidence in the Death Eater trials than he who had been present for two of the few times Voldemort had assembled all of his Death Eaters?

Mr. Weasley must have noticed his wife's worried expression, as he quickly changed the subject. "Where's Ginny hiding?"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "She's certainly not helping her brothers with the de-gnoming, like I asked her to. Same goes for you, Ronald."

Harry stretched as he stood up. "Come on then, Ron; let's get it done while it's still light. I haven't seen Fred and George since lunch, so we should probably make sure they haven't blown anything up."

The five of them trouped back into the Burrow as the sun was setting, muddied and exhausted, but content. Too tired for words, they made their way up the winding path in the half-light, as a cool breeze weaved around the hill from the east. Harry paused at the back of the group, an uneasy feeling twisting in the pit of his stomach. The sun had set, and he shivered in the cool night air. The lonely oak in the field was fully in shadow, and without the summer sunlight it had taken on a sinister air. Was that a figure standing at the base of its trunk? His hand slowly slid to the wand in his pocket.

Suddenly a hand gripped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, wand raised, until a waft of flowery scent told him that it was Ginny.

She tucked a lock of hair behind an ear as she gazed at him, radiating concern. As she opened her mouth, Harry silenced her with a heavy sigh. "I'm fine. I'm allowed to be wary still, aren't I? This time three months ago I was fighting for my life. I was the most wanted man in Britain." Ginny wordlessly took his hand and led him back up the path to where her brothers were waiting.

"It's not as if I'm going mad," Harry muttered.