Harry stood behind Mr. Weasley as they approached the Burrow's front door. Through the windows, he saw Ginny tilt her head, looking over at the clock. A slow smile spread over her face, and a grin stretched at his. As Mr. Weasley pushed open the door, Ron and Ginny both leapt to their feet.

"Harry! Let's see!" There was a huge commotion as everyone rushed to see the Muggle money. Mrs Weasley put a firm hand on the twins' shoulders as they moved to get up from their task with his pants. He thought he saw her smirk for a second, but he blinked, and it was gone.

"I'm his girlfriend!"

"I'm his best mate!"

"So am I!"

"I'm older!"

"You pig! Harry, I'll be first, won't I?"

Harry bit his cheek, and wondered what he'd be able to get away with. Then his eyes landed on the one Weasley brother who was not paying attention. The one who was quietly reading at the dinner table. "Actually, I thought Percy might like to see first."

Ron blinked, looking rather like Harry had just slapped him with a fish. Ginny's jaw dropped too, but then she looked at Harry in a way that made him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Harry," Percy said, sounding a little surprised himself.

"That's okay," Harry replied. "Ginny said you took Muggle Studies, so I thought you might already know something about it."

Percy looked at him closely, and he suddenly noticed the tension in the room. The olive branch was there...

Percy took the one pound coin that Harry was holding out. "It isn't gold-plated silver like a galleon. Muggles used to make their coins from Sterling silver, but now they use steel instead. Obviously, their currency isn't worth as much, and I believe the current exchange rate is close to one to fifty."

"Yeah, that's what Gornuk said," Harry confirmed. He still found the goblins quite creepy. The fact that they acted and talked like they wanted to hurt you by default might have had something to do with that. "The exchange rate bit anyway. These pound coins are made in a factory called the Royal Mint, but that's about all I know about them."

"So, fifty of those is a galleon?" Fred or George asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, flicking another pound coin at him. "There are a few other coins as well, and then there's the paper money." He started to put the different coins out on the kitchen table.

"Paper money?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"Their money isn't worth enough that they can carry it around as we do for shopping and such, so they need paper substitutes," Percy explained.

Ron picked up a five pound note. "So this is paper?"

"There are too many Muggles for them to be able to use parchment. So they make their writing materials from trees rather than sheep- or pigskin," Percy continued.

"So we're writing on leather?" Harry asked, staring down at his shoes.

"Perceptive, this one," Fred teased.

"They are made differently, Harry," Mrs Weasley explained.

"I can see how it'd be useful," Ginny said. "I mean, it's not like they have featherweight charms or anything, is it?"

"Yeah, and they take up less space, too," Harry agreed.

After a considerable amount of time spent discussing the muggle money and muggles in general, Mrs Weasley finally decided it was time to go. For this was the day they left for Romania, and Charlie's dragon reserve. Mr. Weasley enchanted all of their trunks to shrink down to the size of Harry's copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. He then put them all in a master trunk, which he levitated around. The spectacle held Harry captivated, though no one else paid it any mind.

Mr. and Mrs Weasley took turns Apparating them all to the Gatwick International Portkey Station. It was enormous — easily ten times as long as the Great Hall. The ceiling wasn't quite as high, though, and Harry had a feeling they were underground. As it was, the air was filled with the rushing sounds of Portkey activations, and the flashes of light could be seen dancing on the ceiling.

He grabbed Ginny's hand, and held it as he stared around at the huge hall. When he looked back to her, she was smirking slightly with a raised eyebrow.

'What? We don't want to get separated...'

She giggled and dragged him along behind her parents. After finding out which stall they were leaving from, they departed for Section E (East Europe) to find stall 26. Harry wondered why so many stalls were required for such a small number of countries, when he realised that the magical community was far greater than he had even imagined. Stalls 19 through 27 were marked as 'Romania'. Stalls 19 to 24 were 'Bucharest International Portkey Station'. Their stall, conveniently enough, was marked:

Sibiu

Central European Dragon Reserve

Their queue wasn't too long — only one party was standing ahead of them, but the strict schedules that kept people from Portkeying into each other meant they had over half an hour to wait. It seemed the station they were going to was quite small.

"Mum, do you mind if Harry and I go to get sweets?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, well, if you're going you should all probably go. Your father and I will hold our place in the line. And bring me back a box of Every Flavour Beans, would you, dear? It's been far too long!" Mr. Weasley pointed them in the right direction, and Harry could see the bright lights from the store in the distance.

"So, Ron," Harry grinned, "how close do you reckon Charlie'll let us get to the dragons?"

"You're seriously worrying about Charlie on that?" Ron asked incredulously. "I'll be surprised if Mum lets us see a bloody dragon."

"Come off it, it's a reserve, not a zoo," said Harry. "The dragons will be everywhere."

Ron gave him a pitying, 'you'll see' kind of look. "You just don't know Mum yet."

"He's right, you know, Harry," Fred chipped in.

"Yeah, she'll ward us all to kingdom come, and strap us down with ropes if it'll keep the dragons away," George said.

"So if we want to see anything cool, we have to be sneaky about it," Ginny grinned.

"Sneaky isn't hard when you're as small as us," Harry replied, nudging her shoulder.

"Don't we know it," George groaned. Ginny only giggled in response.

"Still, you're not quite as small as you were, Harry," Fred mused.

"Yeah, looks like Oliver's exercise programs..."

"... Had some effect on you, at least."

"Just annoys the hell out of us."

"Although, to be honest..."

"... You had a lot more to gain..."

"... Than we ever did."

It was true. Harry had come to Hogwarts rake-thin. Now he didn't feel like a complete idiot if he flexed his bicep. He was still slim, and had nothing on the twins' muscular builds, but at least he had some 'meat on his bones'. The healing ritual Madam Pomfrey had performed hadn't hurt either. It was certainly easier to handle his broom at high speeds now, and that was the point, wasn't it?

Sugarplum's Sweet Shop looked a little bit like someone had thrown red, purple and pink paint bombs at it and called the result decorating. It was the wildest explosion of colour Harry had ever seen. And once he got inside... The place was some kind of confectionery wonderland. A few he recognised - Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs and Liquorice Wands. But the vast majority were completely alien. A lot of them were more than a little forbidding. He wasn't sure he wanted to take a chance on Cockroach Cluster, and Acid Pops and Exploding Bon-bons looked downright dangerous!

While Ginny ran around deliberating, Ron caught his attention. "Mate, check these out. I know how much you love being in the air."

He was indicating a sweet called Fizzing Whizbees. Harry offered him a questioning look in response.

"They make you float, don't they?" he said as if talking to a half-wit. Which, he considered, he sort of was, since the promotional tagline on the shelf quite clearly stated its effects.

They give you wings!

"Heh, why not?" he grinned. He took two packs, glad of something to hold.

Just then, Ginny reappeared from whichever isle she had run off to on her search. "Pepper Imps!" she explained.

"What do you want with them?" Ron asked. "They'll make you look like your head's on fire!"

"That'd suit you down to the ground," Harry grinned.

"Hey!" Ginny scowled.

"What? It's true," he smirked.

She glowered at him a bit more, but a smile soon started tugging at the corners of her mouth. "D'you really think so?"

"Whatever," Ron interrupted. "You're still gonna look like a torch."

Ginny gave him a sour look. "Ron, it's mid-winter and we're going to be in the mountains..." she said slowly. "I plan to be perfectly warm, thank you very much."

"You could just summon fire," he countered.

"Sure, but these taste nice," Ginny concluded, before skipping off to pay.

"This is all so bloody weird..." Ron muttered.

"This being...? Because I could name a bunch of things," Harry laughed.

"Ginny," Ron clarified.

"Nope, you're still gonna have to narrow it down for me," he smirked.

Ron scrunched up his face. "The way this all just seemed to happen..."

"What are you two up to then, eh?" Fred and George grinned at them.

"We detected a bit too much serious coming from here..."

"...And decided it was our duty to deal with it."

"How do you define too much serious?" Harry asked.

"Funny you should ask, Harry," George grinned.

"See, we take excess seriousness very seriously," Fred continued solemnly.

"After all," said George, "there's just too much of it already."

"Exams."

"Chores."

"Slytherins."

"Mum."

"And how do you deal with being so serious about serious?" Harry sniggered.

"A sacrifice that must be made for the good of all," Fred intoned in a mocking imitation of Percy.

"It makes us happy just to see others being able to lighten up a bit," George added. Ron snorted.

"Right, sure," Harry smirked.

"Say, Harry," Fred grinned.

"We were just thinking," said George.

"This has got to be your first time in a place like this, right?" Fred asked.

"So why don't you let us give you the guided tour?" George offered.

"Whoa, Harry, don't take anything these two give you," Ron warned.

Harry stepped in before the twins could defend themselves. "Don't worry, Ron. After their welcoming gift I'll be counting my fingers every time I shake their hands," he laughed.

Twin glints appeared in their eyes.

"Hey, I know that look," Ginny said gleefully from behind Harry and Ron. "What are you two up to?"

"You know, I think we should spend some time getting to know each other, Harry," George said, ignoring his sister.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "We may have gotten off on the wrong foot..."

"But I'm sure that we could get along like a house on fire," George finished, identical conspiratorial smirks pulling at his and his brother's faces.

"Be warned," Harry said. "Try anything on me and I know plenty of ways to make you regret it."

"Shake on it?" Fred laughed.

Harry smirked as he accepted Fred's hand. He ignored the buzzing sensation from the practical joke as he rotated his hand in Fred's grip slightly, driving his thumb into the back of Fred's wrist and pulling his hand outwards.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do we have a deal?"

Fred nodded quickly, his eyes wide.

"Harry... Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. George was snickering to himself at his brother's predicament.

"People need to know when to stop," Harry muttered, his eyes downcast. He released the older boy, who immediately started checking his fingers and looking at Harry in amazement.

"Harry, they were just kidding around," Ginny said gently.

"I want it to stay that way," Harry said. "Sorry about that, Fred."

"You got me fair and square mate," Fred replied. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"My cousin Dudley is very... talented," Harry answered darkly.

Fred blinked. "I..."

"Well now you're more talented. Aren't you mate?" George interjected.

"Yeah..." Harry mused. "Guess I am."

"Hello again everyone," a jubilant voice called.

"Charlie!" Ginny cried.

Harry grunted as he hauled himself to his feet. That had been one of the least pleasant experiences of his life. The rough landing had been bad enough, but the journey itself... The voices he'd heard in that void they'd been hurtling through would haunt him forever. Still, he didn't think he wanted to start telling people he was hearing voices, so he decided to keep it to himself.

The portkey itself had turned out to be a simple length of rope, with a ribbon tied on in the middle. When the portkey was about to activate, the ribbon started flashing, and Harry had felt an almost painful tug at his midriff, as if someone had him on a hook and just jerked the line. They seemed to be drawn up incredibly quickly, rotating at insane speeds. Or maybe that was just the void around them. Or a total illusion. Harry wasn't too fussed about that after he heard them calling to him.

They were so weary and pained... Harry wasn't even sure he could make out individual voices. But he knew they were many — all around him and stretching out to infinity.

And then the vortex had ripped through the darkness. Mr. Weasley told him to let go, and he fell down, down... The voices faded. He hit the ground with a thud.

Harry looked up at the solid ceiling above. He couldn't hear them anymore.

"And you must be Harry Potter."

Harry looked up at the man standing over him. He had a face so freckled it looked tanned, with deep blue eyes that looked both warm and forbidding, and a speculative smile. There seemed to be a faint burn on his left cheek, which spoke of the dangers of his work on a dragon reserve. He was of an impressive build, with broad shoulders and large, defined muscles that put even the twins to shame.

"So everybody keeps reminding me," Harry replied lightly. "Pleased to meet you, Charlie." He offered his hand.

"Likewise," Charlie grinned.

"I hope you aren't planning to test me too..." Harry said more quietly, looking closely at Charlie.

"I bet you do," Charlie smirked.

"Charlie, you really shouldn't wear your hair so long, you look unkempt," Mrs Weasley complained. Charlie rolled his eyes at Harry and led them out of the chamber, nodding to a woman who signed off their time slot. The rope portkey, which had been sitting on the floor behind them, vanished instantly, presumably headed back to England.

Charlie led them out of the small portkey station into Dinotopia.

The first thing Harry noticed when they left the building was the clearly defined perimeter around it, outside of which the distribution of green grass and flowers changed quite dramatically. Beyond a three metre wide gravel path, there was an apparently random scattering of razed ground amongst the most verdant vegetation Harry could imagine. The entire world was oversaturated with colour. Then, he sensed movement off to the right. Two colossal dragons soared skywards, locked together and snorting jets of blue and orange flame.

"Woah..." Harry breathed.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Charlie grinned. The two dragons soon disappeared above the clouds. "That's a draconic mating dance..."

"Charlie!" Mrs Weasley cried. "They don't need to know about this!"

Mr Weasley chuckled. "Molly, you're trying to command the tide to stay out."

"No I'm not, they're only children. Now I'll hear no more of this," she ordered.

"No, you won't," Harry heard Fred snigger under his breath.

"Ignorance is bliss," George agreed quietly.

Ginny smiled at Harry amusedly. 'My family,' she laughed in his head. Harry smirked back. Ginny suddenly started giggling uncontrollably. 'You still look kinda ridiculous like that.'

'Grown fond of my usual look, have you?' Harry asked, teasingly.

'Yeah, you're kinda nice looking,' she laughed. Harry flushed slightly. She squeezed his hand slightly, then let go, gazing up at the flashes of blue and orange in the light cloud cover as the two dragons... coupled. It was like a very localised multicolour thunderstorm.

"So, Charlie," Mr. Weasley said, "where did you say we would be staying? I'd like to get the tents set up so that we can stop lugging this around." He indicated the trunk he and Charlie were levitating.

"The camping site is behind the main building," Charlie said, pointing at a low structure a little way ahead.

"Outside?" Mrs Weasley fretted.

"Mum, a few inches of stone can't stop dragon fire," Charlie laughed. "The wards are more than up to the job."

"Of course," she replied huffily. "I'm a mother; it's my job to worry."

"You're more than up to it, Mum," Charlie grinned.

"Don't get smart with me, young man," Mrs Weasley said, narrowing her eyes. "I still remember when you came crying to me because that village girl was more interested in Bill."

"Mum!" Charlie cried in outrage. "I was not crying."

"You see," Mrs Weasley smiled. "You're still my little boy."

Charlie muttered to himself as he led them towards the main building. Harry looked around, wondering to himself where all the dragons were. Apart from the two getting to know each other up on high, he couldn't see any at all. He voiced this, and Charlie seemed to welcome the distraction.

"They need a lot of personal territory," he said. "In all the land you can see from here, there are eleven fully grown males. We have thirty eight on site. So, this reserve has a ward on it that no one actually understands - there's one set of mountains for magical people and creatures, and one for non-magical. You could be standing in a muggle right now."

Harry blinked. 'Two sets of mountains?'

"That's amazing," Percy said in awe.

"Isn't it?" Charlie grinned. "People have been studying dragon reserves for generations, and nobody has figured it out. All dragon reserves have this ward, you see."

"Hermione'll figure it out," Harry and Ginny said assuredly.

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"Who?" Charlie asked.

"A friend back at Hogwarts," Ginny said. "She's muggle-born, but she learns so fast she was top of every class from the beginning!"

"I'm sure she'll try then," Charlie chuckled. "Speaking of Hogwarts, how's it been?"

"Amazing!" Ginny enthused. "There's just so many brilliant people, and the castle is so incredibly big... I wouldn't know where to start."

"I know what you mean," Charlie said. "I'll never forget my years at Hogwarts. Even working at a dragon reserve hasn't dulled my memories of the place." He grinned back at them. "So tell me all about your classmates, what are they like?"

Harry's mind drifted as Ginny described all their classmates, from Dean Thomas to Megan Jones, from Michael Corner to Tracey Davis, Sally-Ann Perks to Justin Finch-Fletchley, and the Patil twins to Blaise Zabini. Somehow, Ginny had something to say about everyone in the year group. Perhaps that was what she did when she was in the library with Hermione, or whenever she wasn't watching him at Quidditch practice. She was socialising. Harry was so comfortable with his friends and dorm mates, he barely bothered talking to anyone else.

"Wait, you've been talking to Slytherins?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, Ron..." Ginny replied as if he were so slow. "Just 'cause Malfoy and Parkinson and that lot are-"

"Bloody tossers," Ron muttered under his breath.

Ginny spoke over him, "Complete idiots, it doesn't mean the rest of them are. And they aren't. Daphne's kind of aloof with pretty much everyone, but Tracey's nice enough when those losers aren't around."

"Ginny, did you say Malfoy?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yes," Ginny replied, "Draco Malfoy."

"Blond hair? Pale? Arrogant?" her father prompted. Ron chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, he does seem to be Lucius Malfoy's son," Ginny said.

"Be careful around him," Mr. Weasley warned. "His father can cause a lot of trouble."

"Yes, daddy," Ginny replied. After a short pause, she sent on, "So Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson go around with their friends giving everyone else grief. Malfoy uses Crabbe and Goyle like bodyguards or something, and Parkinson has Rayne and Bulstrode to follow her around."

"When you say they give people grief..." Mrs Weasley pressed.

"They haven't beaten anyone up or anything, Mrs Weasley," Harry said.

"But Crabbe and Goyle look threatening enough," Ginny added. "If Malfoy wants something, he'll get it, I'm sure."

"Doesn't help that Snape takes care of his own," Ron grumbled.

"Yeah, he's a right piece of work," Charlie agreed. Harry noticed the parents exchange a look, but didn't mention it.

"I'm sure the professors will step in if these kids do anything serious," Mr. Weasley said reassuringly.

"So, you've got a fairly interesting year group there," Charlie said. "Has it been an eventful term?"

"There was one thing, dear brother..." George began.

"... That you will never guess at," Fred finished.

"You two finally kicked things off with those two chasers?" Charlie smirked.

"Charles!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

"What, Mum?" he laughed. "Harry is the youngest here, and he clearly has a fine interest in the fairer gender." Ginny beamed at him.

"Don't take liberties just because you're out of the house," Mrs Weasley warned in a sharp tone.

"Yes, Mum," he acquiesced.

"Go on boys, tell the story," Mr. Weasley prompted.

"Well..." Fred began, "at the Halloween feast..."

"... We were all enjoying the awesome food and the awesome show..." said George.

"... When all of a sudden, the doors of the Great Hall burst open..."

"...there's a village not far from us - Ottery St.-"

There was a loud bang. Harry turned his attention from Ginny to the Great Hall's double doors, which had burst wide open to admit a frantic Professor Quirrell, who started screaming.

"TROLL! Troll in the dungeons!" he cried hysterically as he ran towards the head table. Harry wondered how a professor of defence could be so perturbed, but Quirrell was fairly jumpy at the best of times. The professor stopped suddenly halfway across the hall, not far from where Harry was sitting. The tense, panicked expression started to go slack. "Thought you ought to know," he said weakly, before slumping to the ground in a dead faint.

The hall, which had been silent throughout the episode, erupted into chaos. People leapt from their benches screaming. For the first time, Harry saw fear on Ginny's face. It didn't suit her.

"Hermione..." she gasped. She turned on her brother in fury. "You stupid prick!"

Ron gaped, staring blindly at her.

Earlier that day, Ron had finally done what he had been threatening to do since the first day of school. In Charms, Ron and Hermione had been partnered with each other as they finally tried the levitation charm. Ron had failed utterly. Hermione, as she was wont to do, tried to correct him, which only served to rile him up. So he challenged her to do it herself. She had levitated her feather with the casual air of someone who'd done it a thousand times. With hindsight, Harry supposed that Hermione was baiting him just a bit, but boy did Ron react. He sulked for the rest of class, while Hermione got her extra credit.

When the class was over, he publicly mocked her, imitating the painfully enthusiastic way her hand shook in the air when she knew the answer to a problem. His impersonations were exaggerated and endless, and he had never behaved so much like Draco Malfoy. The worst thing about the whole mess was that Hermione was walking behind him through his whole performance. Harry and Ginny, having gone ahead, noticed Ron's behaviour far too late. Powerless to stop it, they watched horrified as Hermione burst into tears and ran in the opposite direction. Ginny had chased after her while Harry picked up her fallen bag. He'd nearly punched Ron then, he was so mad.

Back in the great hall, Ron was stuttering his way into a deeper hole. "I didn't..."

"Shut your bloody mouth!" Ginny snarled.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the hall. The student body stopped and turned to him as one. "Everybody return to your house tables. There is no need for panic." As the students all began to return to their places, he spoke again. "Now, prefects, please escort your houses to your common rooms. Slytherin students should go to the hospital wing instead. Professors, please accompany me to the dungeons."

"Where did Hermione go?" Harry asked.

"A girls' bathroom on the first floor," Ginny answered, leading them to a rearward part of the Gryffindor crowd.

"Do you have a plan?" Harry asked.

Ginny grimaced, and muttered, "Only a last resort." At a look from him she finished. "Fire."

Harry nodded solemnly. "We'll try to distract the troll, but if it looks bad..."

By this time, the crowd was on the grand staircase. Ginny slipped through the throng to the door leading onto the western hallway, eased it open, and slipped through. Harry and Ron followed quickly. Nobody was paying too much attention, as they had lost their classmates, and everyone else was wrapped up in their own excited conversations. They hurried on, Harry taking the lead now, skidding slightly on the stone floor as he took a right turn, when he saw it.

The troll paid the three scared children no mind, being unaware of everything but the room it was wandering into. It was massive, maybe taller than Hagrid, and the ground trembled with its every step. It was built like a tank, but its head seemed of human size on the gargantuan body. And in its right hand, on the end of an arm thicker than Harry's whole body, was a club as long as Ron was tall, and likely the same weight, too.

Harry gritted his teeth to steel himself. "Mountain troll," Ginny said grimly. "Charlie taught us to identify them. Biggest and strongest of the three types, but not the smartest." She looked at Harry, and there was a fire in her eyes the like of which he had never seen before. "The Professors are down in the dungeon. This is up to us."

"Simple," Ron grinned nervously. "Lock it in."

They hurried to the door the troll had just gone through, when Ginny gasped and threw her hands out to stop them. "This is the bathroom! Hermione's..."

She was cut off by a scream that made Harry's blood run cold, an icy gauntlet crushing his stomach and rending at his lungs. His awareness tunnelled as he barrelled through the doorway and jumped at the troll, kicking out to propel himself backwards off the creature's back. He rolled as he landed, scrambling away from the troll, whose attention he'd certainly gained. Ginny was pulling Ron away from the doorway, where he had been staring at the scene. Harry ran, yelling provocations to the troll, and throwing every one of the two jinxes he knew back at it. He needed to give them time to get Hermione the hell out of there. The image of her mutilated body resolved slowly but vividly in his mind.

"Harry!" Ginny called. "Our turn!"

He heard a thud, and looked back to see a brick on the ground behind the troll. Hermione was standing behind the Weasleys, struck dumb with horror.

Ron was yelling now, and Ginny was... shadow boxing? But the troll was in disarray, searching for an enemy it could not see and reeling from the phantom blows. Then she played her ace. The massive wooden club ignited, and the troll cried out in agony, releasing it. Ginny continued to punch the troll, but Ron had other ideas. He pointed his wand at the abandoned, flaming club. Irony of ironies, he swished and flicked, and it floated up into the air, high above the troll's head. Ginny stopped in her surprise, and the troll, realising his torment was over, threw his head back and roared. Hermione visibly quailed, but Ron's jaw only set.

"Ron, no," Harry called, but it was no use. The club smashed into the troll's face with a crunch, and it collapsed on its back with a crash that made the ground under their feet shake. Harry approached the troll with some trepidation. Its face, although ugly to begin with, was a charred mess. But the chest rose and fell just barely every few seconds. It was still alive.

Hermione was sitting now, her arms wrapped around her legs, and staring blankly at nothing. Ron was still holding the club in mid air, staring at the undying magical inferno. Ginny got her on her feet.

"We have to get back to the common room," Ginny said. "We-"

"What has happened here?!"

Harry almost wished it had been Snape. Anyone but the woman who had put such faith in him, putting him on the Quidditch team and getting him a Nimbus 2000...

"Miss Weasley, I thought you better than to try to test yourself in such a life-threatening manner. And to bring your friends into the fray! You all could have been killed! You should be ashamed of yourself, girl. And you three! How could you let her? What exactly possessed you, friends and family, to allow her to throw herself against a full-grown mountain troll?" McGonagall's lips were so thin they might have been lasered on. She looked as terrified and horror-struck as Hermione had. With her were Quirrell and Snape. Some sort of strike team, perhaps. If so, Quirrell was a placeholder, for at the sight of the troll he collapsed against the wall, clutching his heart. Snape moved to examine the troll, giving Ginny a funny look as he passed.

"Please, Professor McGonagall." It was Hermione. "It was my fault."

They all turned to stare. Hermione never lied. She was a bloody saint. Priests probably came to her for confession. But for her to lie to those gods on earth, teachers...

"I'd read all about trolls, and I thought I knew how to handle one," Hermione continued. "But I was wrong. If Harry, Ginny and Ron hadn't stepped in, I'd... I'd probably be..."

Snape's face was cold and calculating, and he was staring at Ginny with a great intensity. McGonagall was furious, and shocked, but Harry could tell that at least Snape wasn't buying it. He wanted to reveal the truth, the necessity of their intervention, dare them to claim that they might have gotten to Hermione in time. She wasn't Harry's favourite person. She'd softened a bit under Ginny's influence, but her utter dedication and holier than thou attitude still made her difficult to be around. Despite that, he had grown strangely attached to her in the past weeks, and besides, he wouldn't have left the Dursleys to the mercy of that troll. Harry wanted to yell in their faces, yet he got the feeling that an outburst now wouldn't help matters.

"Miss Granger, I would never have believed it of you. How could you of all people be so impulsive and headstrong?" The professor seemed to deflate slightly, but she was still irate. "Ten points from Gryffindor for reckless folly. Go to bed, Granger, I don't doubt that this is a lesson you shan't be forgetting in a hurry."

Hermione stuttered out another apology and a thank you. She started walking away as McGonagall bade her, but stopped at the T-junction in the hallway to wait.

"As for you three," the professor continued. "Never in my life would I have expected three first years to go toe to toe with a troll. Less still incapacitate him so..." she searched about for the right word, "thoroughly. Such idiotic heroism. Fifteen points to each of you for valour and magical prowess. And detention with me at seven thirty on Sunday. Bed now, all of you. Don't keep Miss Granger waiting."

The club dropped to the ground with a thud, and stopped burning instantly.

"What happened to the troll?" Charlie asked.

"I guess they got it," Fred shrugged.

"Didn't hear much about it after that," George added.

"Just that it survived," Fred said.

"You know, Ginny, I couldn't believe it when you wrote to us about that," Mrs Weasley said. "Honestly, a troll roaming free in the school?"

"Well, the staff dealt with it," Mr. Weasley replied. "No harm done."

"Yes, but..." Mrs Weasley sighed. "I suppose a Hogwarts without some danger is a rather unlikely prospect."

"Just so long as you listen to the prefects and professors, you should be just fine," Mr. Weasley said.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other.

"That's an eventful first term, at any rate," Charlie laughed. "Here's the campsite. Let's get the tent set up."

By Christmas Eve, Harry was truly able to appreciate why Charlie did what he did. He had never laid eyes on anything so awe inspiring as dragons in flight. The tents they were staying in put up a decent fight, though.

When Charlie and Mr. Weasley started setting up two, two-man tents, he had volunteered to help set up the others. But there were no others. He could only stare as Mr. Weasley, Charlie, Mrs Weasley, Fred and George all climbed into the first. Ron had grinned and teased him, and he supposed that the scope of magic's effect on how he would live his life just hadn't hit him yet.

Now, as he gazed at a Norwegian Ridgeback engaged in an aerial duel with a Hungarian Horntail, his porridge forgotten but still steaming in his lap, it was slowly sinking in. Charlie sat down next to him. The second eldest of the Weasley boys was kept busy during the day, as he had plenty to do as a tour guide, but he ate with them in the mornings and evenings.

"Dragons are some of the oldest, most powerful beings we know of," Charlie said. "The oldest dragon on the reserve has been here since our first records of its existence, about six hundred years ago."

Harry turned to look at him. "How long do they usually live for?"

"Unless they die fighting..." Charlie smiled ruefully. "We've never actually seen one die of old age." The young man looked at him carefully. "I almost thought you were feigning attention to curry favour with me or something. Stupid of me, really. Ginny wouldn't have any patience for someone like that."

"No, she wouldn't," Harry agreed. They sat in companionable silence for a while.

"You know, better it come from me than Mum," Charlie grinned, "you're gonna want to eat that."

Harry poked at the porridge, but couldn't take his eyes off the dragons. "What do you think they're fighting over?"

"Usually I'd say territory, or a female," Charlie said. "That's another curious thing about dragons. Males will fight each other to prove dominance, but a female still won't mate with a male until he's at least proven her equal in combat."

"You said usually," Harry commented. He wondered if Charlie was trying to make a point about Ginny but chose to ignore it.

Charlie frowned in thought. "That Ridgeback is Xuriel, and the Horntail is Axolniar. They occupy territories with ten clear miles in between. And they've each claimed a female within the last year. They might just be sparring, keeping themselves sharp."

"Have they fought before?" Harry asked.

"Twice," Charlie replied. "I'll be looking over the notes on those encounters tonight. Wrangling rogue dragons is exciting enough, but it's solving mysteries like this that makes day to day work interesting."

"Why?" Harry asked. Charlie looked at him like he had a second head. "Wood talks about you all the time. Why did you choose studying and handling dragons over Seeking for England?"

Charlie chuckled. "I won the Cup in my sixth year, Harry. It's a feeling like you'll never get again. You hold that thing in the air and you are a God. Everybody has your name on their lips. If I played Quidditch professionally, and it became my life, I don't think I'd be able to handle growing old. I wanted to let go before it was too late. Besides, it's not like I'm compromising."

Harry considered that for a moment. He had never known such joy as soaring through the air at a hundred miles an hour with nothing to support you but a three metre long piece of wood. It was freedom. Not being able to fly freely... He couldn't conceive of losing that.

"Have you ever ridden on a dragon's back?" Harry asked.

"Nobody has," Charlie responded. "Well, not on a willing dragon, anyway. They aren't beasts of burden, Harry."

"No, I get that, I was just wondering," Harry defended.

"I'd probably better get going," Charlie said. "You're alright, Harry. But I'm still keeping an eye on you." They stared at each other for a while.

"I don't want to hurt her," Harry said.

"I don't think you do," Charlie agreed. "But you don't have to want to. Eat up, kid." He then walked off towards the facility main entrance, waving to the other Weasleys as he passed the tents.

Harry dug into his porridge, still avidly watching the dragons. There was something about the way they fought. It didn't have the merciless quality of Dudley's bullying, or Ginny's put-downs. It was more like they were testing each other. They seemed so invulnerable. Every scorching burst of flame, or savage blow from tail or claw was simply shrugged off. Neither had seemed to lose control of their flight. Suddenly, just as the Ridgeback swung at the neck of the Horntail, the Horntail dived, throwing its spiked tail in response. It swung through the oncoming claw, battering it, and smashing into Xuriel's face. The Ridgeback lost his bearings, dropping like a stone, just recovering about halfway to the ground. Axolniar hovered for a moment, before flying off and leaving Xuriel alone to recover and return to his own territory.

"Harry, what were you and Charlie talking about?" Ron asked, leaving the shelter of the tent.

"Dragons," Harry shrugged. "He was telling me about why he chose this over Quidditch."

"Yeah, weird that," Ron said. "Still, dragons are pretty damn cool."

"Yeah, they are," he agreed.

The day went by slowly. The twins especially were beginning to chafe from being unable to see more of the reserve. Ginny told him that they probably couldn't afford actual tours. She'd overheard her parents talking about the employee discount Charlie was getting for their camping space, so sitting around playing games and talking was probably all they'd be able to do. Even Fred and George's mission to escape the camp site proved fruitless.

They had come out with Harry, Ron and Ginny after lunch (Percy spent most of the time reading indoors), and talked avidly with them about everything and nothing, but Harry noticed that as time went by they said less and less. Ginny certainly noticed too, for she was grinning in her anticipation. Maybe twenty minutes later, they were saying nothing at all. One of them made a comment, and then they were off. Ron was opening his mouth to say something, but Ginny must have done something, for his voice cut off abruptly leaving him stupefied. She dragged them into the second tent, and they sat on the floor talking. Maybe ten seconds passed before Mrs Weasley could be heard yelling and chasing after them.

"Pity," Ginny frowned. "I almost hoped they'd manage it. Would be nice to get a closer look."

"I reckon I've got a healthy respect for how quickly they could melt my face off," Harry laughed.

"Afraid, Potter?" Ginny taunted.

"Yes." The admission didn't come easily, and he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in her expression. But he was not the kind of guy to randomly chase after dragons, and he wasn't going to let her think otherwise. Never tickle a sleeping dragon. It was the school motto, and after the display of that morning he fully accepted its wisdom. They were several times bigger, stronger and smarter than trolls, and that had been bad enough.

"Don't worry," she laughed. "I'll protect you."

"That's your..." Harry started, but just then Mrs Weasley's voice penetrated through the wind smacking itself against the tent.

"... And if you even breathe outside the wards, I swear you'll be going straight home!"

Fred and George wandered in soon after, disappointment written all over their faces.

"She must have tracking charms on us," Fred groaned.

"Only explanation," George nodded.

"Still, it's Christmas Eve," Fred said.

"And that was by no means our only plan-"

"To add a bit of excitement to this trip."

"No sir," George chuckled.

"What are you planning?" Ron asked.

"Never you mind, Ron," George grinned.

"Not taking us with you?" Ginny challenged.

"Calm yourself, Gin-gin," Fred laughed.

"I'm sure you'll get your turn," George finished.

"You could probably use her help," Harry pointed out.

"Us?" George chuckled.

"We don't need help from anyone mate," Fred said.

"Not even our sweet sister," George added.

"Besides, we're not planning on fighting the damn things!"

Harry awoke the next morning to a small storm. Pushing himself backwards, he was searching for his glasses under the pillow, when something heavy hit him in the chest. Ginny.

"It's Chriiiiiiissstmaaaaaaaaassss!" she cried happily. Before he could grab her, she was gone, presumably to hunt for the presents. Harry flopped back onto the bed. He didn't get any presents. Not at Christmas. Not ever.

Ron's grinning face appeared over the edge of the top bunk. "Just checking to see she hadn't knocked you out," he laughed.

Harry only groaned and rolled out of bed. It was almost easy to watch Dudley getting spoiled. It was easy to hate him for it, and for being so bloody ungrateful. But he had shared joy and anger with Ron and Ginny for months, in a way he had never known before. He expected that it would be difficult to stand aside as the odd one out this time. Still, he wasn't going to spoil it for them. He grabbed Ron's pillow from next to him and smacked him in the face with it. He sniggered at the confused expression on his friend's face.

"Prick," Ron laughed, before launching himself at Harry. Harry swung the pillow up as a shield, but he was still knocked on his arse. He jumped backwards, staggering as he tried to regain his footing. Then they charged at each other, grabbing each other by the shoulders as each tried to throw the other backwards.

"Has being around the dragons this long started to affect you?" Mr. Weasley asked. They let go of each other abruptly.

"Sorry, sir," Harry grimaced.

"Sorry, Dad," Ron said.

Mr. Weasley smiled wanly at them. "Just don't hurt yourselves. Molly would have a fit."

They dressed quickly, driven by Ron's eagerness to see what he would be given. Ginny ran in half way through to hurry them and ran out twice as fast.

Sure enough, when they emerged from the tent, everybody was already outside waiting for them. A tree had appeared out of nowhere in front of the two tents, surrounded by gifts on all sides. Harry saw the ones he'd gotten for his friends in amongst the others. He realised quickly that this was going to be nothing like the Christmases he'd known. The lack of violent outbursts about the size of the pile was the first clue. Ginny, who'd been the loudest, was sitting quietly on a rock near the fire, honey brown eyes turned to blazing molten bronze by the flames. When she grinned up at him, the metals swirled. He sat next to her, though there was little room.

"You look nice," Harry told her. She was wearing a white set of winter robes, which seemed somehow to make her already colourful features even more vibrant.

She blushed. He noticed that her eyes had stopped swirling, but they kept their hot glow. "Thanks." She got a mischievous look in her eye. "And as dazzled as you are, you'll just have to tell me what you got for me?"

"Sure," Harry smiled. "But it'll be pointless, since you'd have already opened it."

Her eager expression turned into a pout. "Fine. Well, I'm not telling you what I got for you. So there."

Harry blinked at her. "You what?"

"So, are you gonna tell... Oh wait. No..." She frowned with such sorrow that Harry near forgot his own disbelief. "Everyone got you something, Harry," she said softly.

He stared around at everyone sitting around them. He felt Ginny's lips on his cheek, felt her touch his mind with soft words. Ron was holding something out to him. Something rectangular wrapped in ice blue parchment. Snowflakes drifted down through the paper, changing direction as the box moved. The little note on the top wished him a Merry Christmas from Charlie. The man himself was sitting on the other side of the fire, staring at him through the flames. Harry opened the present delicately, afraid that it might collapse into dust. The ribbon came undone at his touch, apparently held together by a charm rather than a serious knot. Within was a book: A Dragon Handler's Guide to the Known Species, by Octavian Kindle.

"I..." Harry trailed off. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Pleasure," Charlie smiled. "Hagrid got it for me back in sixth year. Anyway, I don't need it anymore."

Ron handed out all the gifts. There was a deck of playing cards for each of the twins from the eldest brother, Bill. Fred pulled out a queen of hearts and flicked it at George. George reached up to snatch it out of the air, but it was already swerving around him. The card made a neat arc around his head before returning to Fred's outstretched hand and bemused grin. Ron then gave his dad the Walkman that Dean had brought to Hogwarts. The little CD player had groaned, squealed, given out a lot of smoke and static, and died the first time poor Dean tried to use it. Mr. Weasley was overjoyed with it, even though the only part of it that still worked was the opening and closing CD cover.

Ginny was already fit to burst. Ron grinned at her, putting down the one he'd been checking and picking up another.

"Ron, don't be cruel," Mrs Weasley said.

Ron reluctantly put the new package down and handed the previous one to Ginny. When she saw who it was from, she flashed Harry a smile. She was abnormally restrained as she peeled open the packing. Harry had simply wrapped his gifts in writing parchment and gotten Hermione to help him with a sticking charm. It had driven the poor girl mad when he came to her asking for help with various presents, but never mentioned one for her. Organised as she was, she never noticed the package he slipped into her trunk as they got onto the train. She would though.

The little pendant glittered in the morning light.

"Oh, Harry, how did you get this?" Ginny gasped.

"Remember that fourth year who was selling stuff from Hogsmeade? I persuaded him to pick this up," Harry replied. Hogsmeade was the wizarding village outside Hogwarts that third years and above got to visit on scheduled weekends.

He almost panicked over the possibility of Ginny not liking it, but when he closed his hands around hers, he was reassured. Harry turned it over in her hand, and her eyes went wide.

"Harry, I..." she started.

"No," Harry said. 'This can only ever belong to you.'

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she was smiling like she'd been given the world. "Harry, I don't know what to say." She looked at him carefully, then launched herself at him. They went down in the snow together. But rather than trying to overpower him as she usually did, she just held him tightly. Harry looked around at the other Weasleys. They were continuing with their gift giving. All but Mrs Weasley, who was looking back at him with a watery smile.

Harry awoke for apparently no reason in the middle of the night. They had all fallen asleep between the fire and the wind-up radio Hermione had given Ginny. Someone or another was singing 'let it snow'. Harry was worried about how long it would last in a clearly magical area. He could swear he had already seen a couple of sparks glow through the plastic casing.

Blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked around for whatever had disturbed him from his rest.

"Hey, look," Harry muttered. Ginny was asleep beside him, her hand clutching the pendant to her chest as if she feared that it might run away in the night. He nudged her gently awake.

"What?" she murmured sleepily.

'Owls...'

"Why? What time is it?" She dragged herself upright, and frowned when she saw the two owls carrying a package of some sort. A few seconds later, they seemed to release it. It floated down and almost whacked Harry in the face, but his seeker reflexes got in the way.

Harry pulled loose the string holding the bundle together, and out flopped a note. Ginny pulled the material within over herself, obviously trying to get back to sleep. He picked up the note, and cast the Wand Lighting Charm to read it by.

"Ooh, Harry, it's too bright," Ginny moaned.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and arranged his wand and the parchment so most of the light was blocked.

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

He felt a lot like he had when they used the portkey; something gripped him behind the navel and tried to yank his guts out.

"What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked, her words becoming slightly more slurred.

"This — this was my dad's!" he whispered.

"What?" She seemed to snap straight out of her half sleep.

"This — whatever it is... it was my dad's!"

He looked over at her. Or he tried to. Her head appeared from empty space as she burrowed out from under the gift. "I'm here, dummy."

Harry shook his head, aiming his wand light at where her legs must be. "Look again."

Ginny went pale. She kicked out violently, and the cloak flew off her. Just as suddenly, her legs were restored to their sight. Letting out a relieved sigh, she stretched and did a graceful flip to her feet.

"Wow," Harry exclaimed. "When did you learn to do that?"

She shrugged, and picked up the cloak. "Years ago. Who cares? Harry, do you know what this is?!"

"Something very cool and pretty bloody freaky," Harry said. "Keep your voice down."

Ginny made a face at him. Still, she lowered her voice. "Didn't you notice? Fred and George spiked everyone's drinks last night. They wanted to get out and see the dragons close up. I swapped their mugs with ours."

"Why?" Harry asked.

She sat back down. "Ugly as they are, I prefer my brothers' faces on their heads and un-melted." Harry laughed to himself. "I thought you wanted us to be quiet," Ginny taunted. "But that's not the point. This is!" She shook the cloak. "Harry, this is an invisibility cloak! They're so rare you could... I don't know."

"It was my Dad's," he said.

"Wait, no that can't be right," said Ginny. "Invisibility cloaks never last more than a few years before they start to lose their power. If this was your Dad's cloak it's more than ten years old."

"Then it was really well made," Harry insisted.

"Maybe," Ginny relented. "If it was your Dad's, why didn't they give it back to you sooner?"

The possibilities of having this cloak while he had been with the Dursleys made his head spin. "Maybe they couldn't for some reason..."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, it doesn't say who sent it, so you can't really ask. Wonder who your Dad would've given his cloak to?"

"I don't really know much about him," Harry admitted. "I wouldn't know..."

"Hey," Ginny said, interrupting his thoughts. "Have you got any idea what we could do with this?"

"The twins would never see us coming," Harry grinned. He took the cloak from her and went back inside the boys' tent to hide it in his trunk. After all this time, he'd finally come across something of his parents'... "You can't tell anyone, Ginny."

"I promise I won't," Ginny replied solemnly.

"Thanks," Harry said. He was beginning to understand why Ginny wanted their telepathy kept secret. "Wait, what happened to the owls?"

They found the owls worrying over the small pile of chocolate frog boxes they'd gone through. Ginny went into the boys' tent and pilfered some of Errol's owl treats from her father's room. The two birds, a pair of tawny owls, both wore the Hogwarts coat of arms on their right wing. It could have been natural colour variation if not for the sheer level of precision. The owls took the treats gratefully, and looked to the drugged, half full glasses on the table.

"No!" Ginny hissed.

She and Harry ran after the owls and shooed them into the tent, where they could drink untainted water as opposed to, well, whatever the twins had used as a tranquilizer. They sat together in the little kitchen, watching the owls drink from a bowl.

"Is it still Christmas?" Harry asked. Now that he was up again, he didn't want to let go of the day.

Ginny scanned the room. "Ehh, why not?" Her sleeve lifted as she turned, showing a little bit of red under her robes.

"Hey, you're hurt," he said. He took her hand before she could protest and examined the bite.

"One of them must have been real thirsty," Ginny supplied. "Let me try this." She withdrew her hand and waved the other over it. The skin instantly re-meshed, without a trace of the prior cut.

"You're really getting good at that, aren't you?" Harry commented. He remembered how flushed and bothered she used to get whenever she used magic like this.

Ginny smiled mockingly at him. "Of course after apparating, healing a small bite is the next big milestone for me."

"You should definitely write to Professor Dumbledore," Harry threw back.

One of the owls chose that moment to fly over to Ginny and land on her head. Ginny looked upwards incredulously, then shook her head around trying to get it off. "Stop laughing," she complained. Harry bit his lip, but he just couldn't contain himself. The owl hooted indignantly before flapping over to his partner. They each found high places to perch, presumably to get some rest after their long journey.

Harry turned to Ginny. "We should probably go get some rest, too." Her hair was a mess after her tangle with the owl, and she was glaring up at the little creature.

"We'll need to find a way to hide these two," she muttered finally.

Harry hadn't thought about what questions might be asked if everyone woke up to find a couple of random Hogwarts owls in their tent. "How long will they want to rest for?"

"How long do you want your dad's cloak to stay a secret?"

Harry awoke to repeated pecking. Hedwig. He groaned and stretched. "Good morning, Hedwig," he yawned. She flapped up to his shoulder, nipping again at his ear. He looked around at the others. He and Ginny had returned to the fireside so as to not look suspicious, and it seemed that he had been last to wake. "Did you get them out, girl?" he asked. Hedwig hopped down onto his forearm and gave him a baleful look, like he was so incredibly stupid. Harry fished a couple of owl treats out of his pocket for her to eat. He was still shocked that an owl could have such a good grasp of the English language. When he told Hedwig what needed doing last night, she'd bobbed her head and flown right on into the tent.

He rolled over and got to his feet. He could smell the bacon. Making his way towards the kitchen, Harry's stomach rumbled so much, he thought he'd be heard before he was seen. He was.

"Harry, is that you?" Mrs Weasley called.

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," he replied. The owls were nowhere to be found.

"It's good that you're hungry," she smiled. "I've just finished making breakfast."

"Yes please," Harry grinned. "There's going to be people back in England that'll smell that and come running."

"Oh Harry, you flatter me," Mrs Weasley laughed. "Sit down, go on."

For his part, Harry was confused as he sat next to Ginny. He never would have had the guts to try a compliment like that a few weeks ago. Where did that come from?

He got through three helpings of bacon, eggs and sausages before he finally felt full. Ginny stole his last sausage and bolted out into the cold morning. Harry washed up after both of them before following. Only, when he left the tent, he couldn't see her.

"Boo!" she cried, leaping onto him from behind.

The little pendant was freezing cold against his neck. They tussled in the snow together, rolling and fighting, but neither of them could get the upper hand. Ginny tried hurling snow at him with magic, but she couldn't throw him off. When she'd effectively buried them, and was sweating with her exertions, she finally gave up and blew the snow off them.

Harry stared down at her flushed face.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm counting your freckles," Harry muttered. He really was, although he'd lost count when she asked.

She seemed to flush even deeper. "No, don't! They're ugly."

"No," he replied. "They're really not."

She struggled under him, honey-brown eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Stop."

"You're making me lose count," he complained. He traced a finger over her face, and he heard her breath catch. 'Twenty, twenty one, twenty two...' Her fingers grabbed at his hair, and she kissed him on the lips. Even in the freezing winter, her lips were warm as the summer sun. When she finally let go, her eyes were wide. "I lost count again." She giggled, and soon they were both laughing themselves silly.

"I-" Ginny began as they calmed down. "You're so great, Harry. You have no idea."

Harry was the one to blush this time.

Charlie went back inside, satisfied.