Albus Dumbledore smiled at the storm of sound coming from the Burrow. He'd only been here a few times in his life; those visits spread over two generations of the Weasleys of South-west England, but always the sounds and smells were the same. Weasley households everywhere seemed to strive to define the word 'home'. Not that this was his first visit to the Burrow in recent days. Harry's safety was paramount, and Albus had led an extensive warding project while they'd been in Romania. The eldest of the siblings had been unavailable for that trip for a very good reason. Using Bill's knowledge of the family's magical signatures, Albus had been able to actively tie their identities to the wards. He wondered whether Molly and Arthur had yet told their children about the security update.
"Albus, come in, please," Molly said warmly as she opened the door. "I'm truly sorry about all this trouble..."
"Oh, nonsense," he replied as she shut the door behind him. "Besides, if the involvement of a blood Weasley girl didn't catch the Wizengamot's attention, then Harry Potter certainly did. I would say that I was rather encouraged to come today."
"Oh, I do hope there won't be too much of a fuss," she fretted, while leading him through to the sitting room.
"I'm afraid that that complication cannot truly be avoided. The press will only be more likely to smear you if we attempt to hold the story back. The most I can do is to, ahem, keep Ms. Skeeter busy for the next few weeks."
"Oh, well, thank you Albus. I..."
"It is quite alright, Molly. Some things are usually better left unspoken," he said, with twinkling eyes.
He spotted the television set, and just hid his surprise. He supposed he shouldn't have been shocked. If Harry had anything of his mother in him, he would be a generous soul, and that's exactly what Dumbledore had been hearing. He then had to hide his amusement as he imagined the fight Molly would have given Harry before accepting such a gift. He certainly noticed the look she gave it. At that, he wondered how they planned to power it.
Mrs Weasley sighed, and gestured to the chairs by the fireplace with a smile. "Would you like any tea, Albus?" she asked as he sat down in one of the armchairs.
"Tea would be wonderful Molly. I did wonder whether Ginevra will be in attendance? I understand it was she who requested my presence in the first place," he commented.
"Yes, she did..." Molly replied, a small frown on her face.
"Not to worry, my dear. I'm only too happy to aid the two of them in pursuing their, ah, interests in each other."
She threw him a slightly sharp look, but at the sight of his twinkling eyes and genial smile, she huffed and went to look for her daughter and ... son. Not before telling Ron to put the kettle on, of course.
"Ron? Ron? What are you... FRED! GEORGE! Get down here now!" Ron was slowly backing away from some sort of electronic muggle device. 'I do wonder why the excitement of the magical field around the Burrow hasn't overloaded it yet. And all that charmwork and transfiguration can't be doing it any good.' As it was, the device appeared to have sprouted eight legs. They were quite brilliant metallic recreations of a spider's legs, with iron filings replacing hairs, and they were slightly greasy. As it turned towards him, Albus saw that the screen was displaying eight dark eyes.
His curiosity overcame him, and he discreetly pulled his wand. Waving it in a long, intricate pattern, he swept it slowly around himself. Once he had muttered a long and complex incantation, a silvery sheen passed over the muggle object. He pointed his wand at a spare piece of parchment he'd had in an inside pocket. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. There was absolutely no interference from the magical field detectable in the circuitry of the device. Deciding that now wasn't the best time to investigate, he stowed his wand and returned the parchment to his pocket.
"Mum, we didn't do anything to the GameBoy," one of the twins was complaining.
"Yeah, I mean we're all supposed to share it," the other went on.
"... So why would we damage it?"
Albus shook his head, chuckling. They were exactly like their maternal uncles. Gideon and Fabian, the walking comedy show. Something had gone out of Molly Weasley when they were assassinated during the war.
"I'll deal with the two of you later," Molly hissed. "Just count yourselves lucky we have such an esteemed guest."
Both of their heads came around the edge of the doorframe, and were pulled back quickly.
"Now go upstairs, and find Harry and Ginny," she ordered.
"Something tells me they won't want to be interrupted," came a mutter. Albus knew he was only hearing it because of the Super-Sensory Charm he kept active wherever he went. As proof of the fact, there was no explosion from their mother as they trudged upstairs.
"Finite Incantatem!" came the whisper from the kitchen. It was repeated over and over again. Albus estimated that from the number of transformations and conjurations, and the charms used to simulate a spider's movements, it would take between eighteen and twenty reversals. He counted twenty.
"Wow. Look, Fred, they're not snogging each other stupid this time," George remarked from the door.
"Well, they probably didn't want to go into this meeting looking like they'd just been dragged here from the Quidditch Pitch," Fred mused.
"Oh, do shut up. You'd be worse if your girlfriends were here," Ginny shot at the twins. George grinned and shrugged at her. "Don't think I've not seen you and Angelina, Fred. I have a feeling that even Dad would disapprove."
Fred's eyes went wide, and he shot a suspicious glare at her boyfriend.
Harry sniggered at his ... brother's face. Today, they were just going through the paperwork to make sure everything was in order. Tomorrow, they had to go to the Magical Contracts and Bonds Office in the DMLE to register Harry as being adopted by the Weasleys.
Ginny was currently helping him in the effort to tame his hair. He jumped as he unknowingly caught a knot with the brush and pulled three hairs right out of his scalp.
"You're fighting a losing battle there, Harry," George said sympathetically. He knew exactly what his twin was thinking, but knew that Harry was too much of a nice guy to try anything like that. It was Ginny that deserved their suspicion. Then again, if they said anything, she'd probably do something stupid just out of spite.
"Yeah, but Mum says I have to make an effort," he groaned.
"And it gives you an excuse for more time with Ginny," Fred sighed. "We get it."
"Anyway, you'd best finish up, up here, cause Dumbledore is downstairs now."
"Fine, but before we go, did the prank work?" Ginny asked.
"Well, he's scared of the thing for now..." George began.
"... but we will have to wait and see for lasting effects," Fred finished.
"Okay, let's go see Dumbledore!" Ginny said. She turned to see Harry gazing at her with a slight frown on his face. "What's wrong?"
"Um, I think I prefer your hair when it's down," he said quietly. She was wearing it up in a ponytail.
"Really?" she asked quietly, sitting down in his lap.
A nervous smile crossed his face. "Yeah... the way it blows around and catches the light..." They ignored the sounds of retching behind them. For once, as they gazed into each other's eyes, neither of them said a word.
"Look guys, this is sickeningly romantic and everything..." Fred said, pretending to choke up.
"...But Professor Dumbledore is still downstairs," George finished, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
"He has a point," Harry said.
Ginny made a face. "After that?"
He suppressed the snigger. "I'll make it up to you."
She grabbed him by his half tamed hair and kissed him hard, knocking him backwards onto his bed.
"And we're back to normal," said Fred.
"Get a move on, midgets," George added.
"Hey!" Ginny protested.
The twins responded with identical smirks, pointing down the stairs.
They hurried downstairs, Ginny's hair bouncing rhythmically in its ponytail. Mum and Dad were waiting in the living room, and Harry and Ginny sat between them on the sofa. Waving his wand, Dumbledore conjured a muggle expanding file on the table before him. It was a little odd to see rolls of parchment being retrieved from the recognisably mundane object, especially considering the fact that the two inch wide rolls were coming completely unharmed out of spaces meant for a few sheets of paper.
"Now that we are all here, I have brought copies of the necessary forms, and we may begin. These have already been filled out, and I have made the necessary amendments to allow Harry to retain his name, and remain scion of the Potter House. This minimises the legal questions as to any special relationship between Harry and Ginevra, and allows the survival of the House of Potter," Dumbledore stated.
They both blushed, but Ginny was smiling contentedly. 'I wonder what scion of my house means.' He didn't feel it was wise to interrupt.
"Now all that is left is for Arthur, Molly and Harry to read the contract through to ensure you are happy with it, and sign the documentation."
Harry took his copies of the documents gingerly, and began to carefully read. The next six years of his life were in his hands. It certainly felt like it. Each roll of parchment was of a significantly heavier grade than what they used in school, and there were three of them. The first was about Mr. and Mrs Weasley and whether they were capable of raising him properly. The second was about everyone involved, and their willingness for him to be adopted by the Weasleys. It also asked why they wanted to go through with it. The third one contained the terms of the adoption. It seemed tailor-made for this situation. There was even a clause specifically referring to his title.
Under the terms of this agreement, Harry James of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter shall retain all rights as scion of that family, and as such retains both name and heritage even as he is adopted by the Ancient and Most Noble House Weasley. This does not affect the rights of Arthur William Weasley and Molly Astraea Weasley (née Prewett) as his parents in the eyes of the law.He watched Ginny's satisfied smile as she read his copy, and found himself smiling slightly too. While he understood that Ginny's desire to ensure that they'd be able to marry in the future was practical, it still scared him a little.
"Sir?" he asked hesitantly. "What's a scion? And what does it mean about my heritage?"
Dumbledore sagged visibly. "Harry, you may have realised by now that you are all that is left of the Potters. When you come of age, you inherit all that remains to the name of Potter. I do not know what may await in the Gringotts vaults, but your parents' wills are being held at their request until you are legally a man. Further, the Potter seat on the Wizengamot has been undisturbed for many years now, and will be part of your inheritance. Let me see now..."
Harry stared blankly. 'Vaults? Wills? Wizengamot?'
"Ah yes, your family's home in Godric's Hollow and the castle in the Yorkshire Dales. I'm afraid both properties suffered significant damage in the war, but they will surely be yours."
'Castle?' Harry gaped at him. "I... Oh." Ginny was pretty wide eyed herself, though she did not seem nearly so shocked as he felt.
'I knew the Potters had a castle, ' Ginny explained. 'But everyone thought it was destroyed in the war, right at the beginning. '
He finished reading the whole thing a little while later. He smiled his assent at his parents to be, and they smiled back before turning to Dumbledore.
"Well, I think we're all happy with that," Dad said. Mum, Harry and Ginny all nodded their agreement.
"Then I do believe," Dumbledore pronounced, "that that concludes our business today. All that is left now is for the three of you to be interviewed at the ministry, tomorrow. Any other family members, or friends of Harry's who can testify to his being suited to your care will of course strengthen your case."
"Hey, isn't Neville staying at home for the holidays?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah, of course. He's doing something extra for Herbology, right?" Harry replied.
"Well, I'm sure you can contact him via the Floo," Mum commented. "We can bring everyone. Is your friend Hermione still in Sweden?"
"I don't know. Pity she doesn't have a Floo connection..." Ginny mused.
"And I don't have her telephone number either," Harry added. "It'd be too short notice if I sent Hedwig, wouldn't it?"
"Oh goodness, I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore! I'm sure you have quite a busy schedule-" Mrs Weasley began.
"Not to worry, Molly. I did plan in plenty of time. Then again, now that all is settled here, I may as well take my leave of you. I wish you all the very best of luck, and I hope to see the two of you refreshed and eager for the start of the new term." He rose from his seat, and nodded to them all. Mrs Weasley rushed to escort him out of the house.
"Well then, Harry... No doubts, I hope?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"No. It seemed a lot more real and intimidating, with the papers in front of me. But I'm really happy about this," Harry replied.
"We're happy to help," Mr. Weasley assured him. "No child should ever have to go through what you did."
Harry rolled his left shoulder, feeling immense satisfaction in how far back it went. "Thank you, sir."
"Well let's go and Floo call your friend then, shall we?" Mrs Weasley asked when she returned.
Eager to see something new, Harry jumped to his feet and followed Mrs Weasley to the fireplace. She lit a fire with her wand then took some glittery powder from a flowerpot. "Longbottom Manor," she called, throwing the powder onto the flames. The fire went bright green, and she put her head right into it. Harry jerked forward instinctively to pull her out, but Ginny grabbed his arm.
"Forgot you didn't know about Floo," she grinned. "Don't worry, it doesn't burn."
He realised that now of course, considering that Mrs Weasley wasn't igniting in front of him.
"Right, well which of you wants to talk to him?" Mrs Weasley asked, surfacing again.
"We can't both talk to him?" Harry asked.
"Not at the same time," Mrs Weasley said. "It's not safe, dear."
"You go ahead Harry, I'll wait," Ginny said.
"Don't take too long, Harry," Mrs Weasley warned. "We haven't got that much Floo powder."
"I can ask him to call back, right?" Harry asked.
Mrs Weasley frowned. "I suppose so, but don't impose, Harry."
"I wouldn't, Mrs Weasley," Harry said.
"I'll go get Ron," Ginny said, promptly running off.
Harry put his head into the fire as Mrs Weasley had, and had the most awkward sensation that his head was flying at breakneck speeds through a warm, narrow tunnel while his body remained kneeling in the Burrow. A short time later, he found himself staring up at Neville's grinning face.
"Hey Neville!" he said. "How are you doing?"
"Pretty good, thanks. You?"
"Fine," Harry replied. "So, you going to tell me what you were so excited about the Christmas holidays for now, or what?"
Neville laughed. "Yeah, okay. But don't tell Hermione, I want to see her face when she finds out."
Harry shook his head. Neville had changed so much from the introvert he'd been in the first few weeks. "Sure, what is it?"
"I was talking to Professor Sprout about the greenhouse I keep at home," Neville said. Harry nodded for him to continue. "Well, she said that if I was really interested in Herbology, she could give me some seeds to work with. You know, plants I didn't have yet."
"Hey, that's pretty cool," Harry grinned. Honestly, he didn't have the enthusiasm for the subject that Neville did, but looking after plants really made the guy happy. "What has she given you?"
"Well, she gave me some Abyssinian Shrivelfig seeds a few weeks ago. She said if I can handle these and bring her a shrivelfig prepared to use in potions, she'll give me some Asphodel seeds."
Harry recognised Asphodel from Snape's lectures. "Hey, that's not bad at all, Neville. You know, you could probably use those to start practising potions at home."
"Harry, I get enough of potions at school," Neville grinned.
"Yeah, because Snape's a dick," Harry said darkly.
"Harry, my grandmother might hear you!" Neville laughed.
"Anyway, if you show up next year making perfect potions, that would show him, wouldn't it?"
Neville smiled. "Yeah, I guess it would. You reckon Hermione would be interested in working with me?"
Harry squinted at him. The frequency of Hermiones was starting to rouse his suspicions. "Probably. You should ask her."
Neville went slightly pink, and Harry knew he was on to something.
"Mate, I nearly forgot," Harry said. "Can you call back when this runs out, please? We're running low on Floo powder."
"Yes, of course," Neville replied. "The Burrow, right?"
"That's the one," Harry agreed. "Anyway, there was something I meant to ask you."
"Go ahead."
"We're all headed to the Ministry tomorrow to apply for the Weasleys to adopt me," Harry grinned.
"Mate that's awesome," Neville enthused.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Thing is, Professor Dumbledore said that we should bring as many people who can help with the interviews..."
"Of course I'll come," Neville said. "Wait, I need to ask my grandmother first. When is it?"
"Three in the afternoon," Harry replied.
Neville scrambled off to find Mrs Longbottom. Harry didn't know what to think of the woman. She obviously cared about him, but her lack of faith in Neville seemed to really affect him. It was the only thing he could think to attribute Neville's prior lack of confidence to.
Looking out of the flames, Harry saw a room that Draco Malfoy might have been happy to have in his house — except, perhaps, for the lack of Slytherin trappings. Mrs Weasley had said it was a manor, but Harry hadn't thought much of it. Neville didn't exactly go on about being rich, so Harry had just assumed he was moderately well off and didn't ask. The room has huge, for one thing. Three of the Dursleys' living rooms could have fit in here comfortably. There was a large gramophone off to one side, and to Harry's eye it seemed that the entire thing was made of gold. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, which must have been eight or maybe ten metres high. Suddenly, he noticed that there were faces staring back at him. It might have been the lack of portraits at the Burrow, but he'd almost forgotten that magical ones could move and talk. Just as he was about to try to break the awkward silence, Neville returned wearing a broad grin.
"I can come, Harry," Neville said. "So tell me about Romania."
Harry found that he rather liked the underground. It was probably something to do with the fact that nobody paid him any attention whatsoever. They were, on the other hand, throwing the occasional disapproving look at Fred and George, who were competing with each other to see who could do the most pull ups on the overhead rails. Percy looked scandalised. It took about thirty seconds for him to decide to tell Mrs Weasley, who'd been distracted reading the map. She put a stop to their antics pretty quickly. Mr. Weasley was nearly as conspicuous as he stared at his train ticket, flicking it occasionally and apparently marvelling at the material.
Ron was nattering about the Chudley Cannons, the Quidditch team he supported to ... well, probably to Harry actually. Mrs Weasley gave Ron a warning look when he accidentally mentioned the word 'bludger' but so far he seemed to be doing an admirable job of keeping the language muggle-friendly. Ron paused, and Harry gave a neutral grunt that seemed to satisfy his friend. Harry loved Quidditch, but when it came to talking about it, Ron's exuberance reached almost Hermione-ish levels. Harry put his head in his hand, making a face like he was going to cry, and Ginny burst into a fit of giggles.
"But Ron, the Wasps are obviously going to buy him," Ginny interjected.
Well that seemed to set Ron off like nothing else.
The train slowed noisily as it pulled in to Westminster. Harry wondered why Mr. and Mrs Weasley hadn't Apparated them directly to the Ministry, but it seemed that Mr. Weasley was curious about the tube system now that he'd been on a bus. They followed him across the busy roads to a completely ordinary looking telephone box.
Harry grinned. "Hey, we don't have to all get in there together do we?"
"Why would we need to do that?" Mr. Weasley asked, confused.
"I don't know what to expect anymore," Harry shrugged.
"Well, you, Ron and Ginny come with me," Mr. Weasley said. "The number to dial is 62442, Molly."
"I remember, Arthur," Mrs Weasley smiled.
They got into the telephone booth one at a time, and it wasn't too tight a fit as long as they didn't try to move much.
"They would have put undetectable extension charms on this," Mr. Weasley said, "but there's too much chance of muggles accidentally triggering them and noticing that there's more space inside than there should be." He picked up the receiver and dialled 62442. Harry was about to mention that he should put the receiver to his ear when a disembodied female voice started talking to them.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," she said. Harry stared off to his right, convinced that the woman was standing next to him.
"The bit with the wire coming out goes to your mouth," Harry said as Mr. Weasley fumbled with it.
"Thank you, Harry," he said. "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here with Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Ginevra Weasley to file for adoption of Harry Potter. Another four people will be coming in after us."
"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes."
There was a rattling noise, and they all stood waiting for something to happen.
"Please find your identification badges behind the metal flap below the dialling pad," the voice said. Harry was already there, handing out the plain looking badges. His read simply:
Harry Potter
Visitor
Harry's stomach lurched as the box shuddered into motion. He glared at the receiver for not giving him fair warning as the world was closed off by the ground. The box carried them through many metres of rock and earth before they were expelled into the bright light of the atrium. Harry's jaw dropped.
Maybe a hundred or more huge fireplaces stretched out into the darkness, and the occasional flare of green flame accompanied the wizards and witches who walked out of them. Loud cracking sounds indicated apparition points somewhere beyond the fireplaces. But most prominent of all was the waterfall. Try as he might, Harry couldn't even see some of it. The chamber it was in must have been far taller than the part of the atrium they were being lowered into. It consisted of five golden statues. There was a tall witch and wizard looking rather grandiose, while three other beings looked up in awe and adoration. He recognised the goblin, although he didn't think it was a very realistic expression for one. The witch and wizard were holding their wands aloft, and these were producing water. There was water coming from the arrow-tip of a bow-wielding horse-man hybrid; the goblin was producing water from the tip of his hat, and the other small creature was spouting from the tips of its long ears.
'What are they?' Harry asked, pointing at the fountain.
'Dad said it's called the Fountain of Magical Brethren. He doesn't think it's very good. He doesn't believe that we're better than anyone else, so he doesn't see why they should all look like they're worshipping us. But those are a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf,' Ginny replied.
'I've met goblins, and they certainly wouldn't look at any wizard like that,' Harry grinned. 'What's a house-elf?'
'They're only about up to your belly button. Wizards have kept them as slaves for as long as anyone can remember,' she answered. Seeing his look of horror, she went on. 'I know, it's horrible, isn't it? But the weird thing is, they seem to enjoy it.'
'Enjoy it? You mean they like being slaves?'
'Yeah, I guess. I got all this from another guy who lives in the area. He's on the other side of the village. Cedric Diggory. He's a Hufflepuff fourth year. He said that if an elf isn't magically bound to a wizard bloodline, they fade out of existence.'
'That sounds like some kind of really awful curse,' Harry commented. Slavery was the last thing he'd think to find in the wizarding world. Then he thought of Malfoy. That bastard would just love to have a slave to kick around.
'Yeah, it does, actually, doesn't it?' Ginny pondered. 'I think I'll ask Dad...'
At that moment, the telephone box hit the ground with a bump, and they quickly followed Dad out. The cubicle creaked, and began its return journey to the surface. Just then, Harry realised that there weren't any cables or anything to pull the box up, and he grinned contentedly.
Dad led them over to one of the three security desks which barred the way out of the atrium. Here they had their wands examined, and Harry had the uncomfortable experience of yet again having his scar stared at. Ginny was having trouble smothering her laughter as Harry shifted under the guard's constant glances and 'subtle' looks. After the man was done running some thin, golden instrument up and down each of them, he asked for each of their wands so that he could examine them. He would place the wand on something like a weighing scale with only one dish. It would vibrate, then shoot a strip of parchment out of a slit in its base.
"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. It's been in use for four months, correct?" the man asked Harry. He nodded, and the man returned his wand gently. He impaled the strip of parchment on a brass spike, and gave it to Harry as if it were a cinema ticket. Then he turned to Ginny. "And you, miss?"
"Oh, sorry, I don't have a wand yet," she said delicately. The man looked at her suspiciously.
"I'm sorry miss, but this," he raised the golden instrument, "has picked up strong magical residue matching your signature, especially on your right hand."
Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. They hadn't thought of this. Ginny's talent surely wouldn't stay secret for long if they told the Ministry of Magic about it. How much did people outside Hogwarts know, anyway?
Mr. Weasley put a hand in front of Ginny. "Eric, she's underage."
"Arthur, if she's underage, then she shouldn't be recording such powerful traces of her own magic."
"Well I can't explain that, but you know she's rather prone to accidental magic," he replied. "She's underage, so she's Molly's and my responsibility while she's here." The others turned up at this point, and Percy was complaining about something or other the twins had done.
The man sighed. "Alright, Arthur. Go on, then."
They went past the security desk and towards the giant fountain. Though the tip of the wizard's wand was at least twenty metres above them, it cast its water jet again as high above that. The water cascaded into the pool in shimmering sheets, and a mist hung about the bases of the statues, scattering light into sporadic rainbows.
"Harry! Ron! Ginny! We're over here!" someone called. They turned and grinned as Neville was admonished by an austere looking woman for making such a disturbance.
"Hey, Neville!" Harry grinned. "Hello, um, Mrs Longbottom, isn't it?" He extended his hand with some trepidation.
"Harry Potter, am I right?" she replied. She sniffed, before taking his hand and shaking it briefly. "Glad to make your acquaintance. And you are?" She directed at Ron and Ginny.
"I'm Ginny Weasley," she said defiantly. Harry almost sniggered. She was one person who'd never let herself be intimidated. "I'm Harry's girlfriend."
Mrs Longbottom's eyebrows rose slightly, but she nodded.
"Ron Weasley," he said a little quietly. Ginny smirked at her brother.
"Chin up, Ronniekins, I'm sure she doesn't bite!" Fred said loudly. Ron cursed under his breath and aimed a back-heel at his brother, but missed, and hit the other twin instead.
"Oi, what did I do to deserve that?" George asked, mock-glaring. Ron gave him a real glare in return. "Oh, so sorry. You're Mrs Longbottom, am I right? Neville's grandmother? We're Fred and George Weasley."
"No, I say Fred and George," Fred exclaimed.
"No, I'm..."
"Oh, do shut up, you two!" Ginny admonished. They stopped talking at once, probably more out of surprise than anything else, but Mrs Longbottom gave her an approving look. "Now, Mrs Longbottom, that one is always Fred because-"
'I see your game,' Harry grinned.
"No! You wouldn't!" they both cried. They fell to their knees before their sister, begging her not to give away their secret. He'd figured out one way of telling them apart already. Fred was usually the one to speak or act first and he usually pulled more vicious pranks.
"Nice to meet you boys, and you, Ginny," Mrs Longbottom said, with something close to a smile.
"And the same to you, Mrs Longbottom," Harry said.
"Hello, Augusta. How are you today?" Dad asked politely.
"I'm doing well, Arthur. Molly," she acknowledged them with a nod. "You were never ones to turn anyone away. I admire that in you. Now, I believe we have a meeting to get to, and I do have a pressing appointment beyond then, so shall we go?"
"Of course, of course," Dad replied, leading them all through the vast atrium. It was only as they closed on the statue that he noticed the coins glittering beneath the surface of the water. There was an engraving upon the base:
ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES.'If they let the Weasleys adopt me, I swear I will put ten galleons into this fountain. I swear.'
They continued on through a pair of golden gates, and into a smaller hall with ten lifts to each side, and a few more at the far end. Once they were all inside the lift, the golden gates on the outside slammed together of their own accord. The lift doors also slid quickly together without any visible assistance or instruction. He jumped at the noises, and felt vindicated to see Ron twitch, too. But that shock was nothing to what he felt when the lift rushed rapidly backwards.
After a minute or so of Harry cursing magical transportation in his head over and over again, they finally heard the disembodied voice say, "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."
Nobody spoke until Harry noticed the sunlight coming in through the windows. "Aren't we still underground?"
"Yes, Harry. The windows here are enchanted. The people at Magical Maintenance decide our weather. It was a nightmare when they wanted raises a couple of years ago. Two months of hurricanes..." Mr. Weasley reminisced. He led them out and around the chamber of lifts, under an arch which read 'Administrative Registration Department'.
"Can you feel it?" Ginny whispered to him and Neville. They turned to her.
"What do you mean?" Neville asked nervously. He was obviously remembering the last time they had 'felt something', and ended up faced with a three-headed monster of a mongrel.
"It's the windows. It's like I can ... feel them there as well as see them. It's odd," she went on quietly.
"Maybe it's to do with your abilities. You should ask Dumbledore," Harry said.
"Don't call them abilities, Harry. I'm no more powerful than any of you," Ginny whispered, her cheeks tinged with pink.
"Don't sell yourself short, Ginny. You're brilliant, and you know it," he replied with a grin. She punched him on the arm, her blush blossoming. Neville just shook his head, snorting quietly with suppressed laughter.
"Here we are, everyone — the Magical Contracts and Bonds Office," Dad announced. Harry took a deep breath. Neville gave him a pat on the back, and he gave him a brief smile to show his gratitude. He walked forwards through the door Mr. Weasley was holding open, feeling a rising sense of nervousness. He felt Ginny's presence behind him, and held onto it like a lifeline. This was everything he dreamed of — a family that cared for him, a home where he was welcome... He raised his head, and followed Mr. and Mrs Weasley toward the desk marked 'Family and Marriage'.
"Mr. and Mrs Weasley, Mr. Potter, and associates," the secretary called to them. "You will be seen now." She gestured toward the double doors on her right.
The wait had only brought back Harry's nerves. He'd stared at the clock on the wall almost unblinkingly for the last seven minutes and forty-nine seconds. Eager for it all to be over, he leapt to his feet, and only barely allowed his parents-to-be to lead the group. Ginny talking to him in his mind was the only thing that kept him from bouncing off the walls.
In the small room beyond were two people seated at the opposite end behind a simple wooden desk. There were a few chairs facing them which were evidently for Mum, Dad and himself. They sat down there, while everyone else sat down on the two benches behind those chairs. He sat between mum and dad, sending a quick grin back at Ron, Neville and Ginny before facing what were evidently the Wizard versions of social workers. The lady on the right returned his grin, but the woman on the left looked a bit tired, and was still looking through the papers the Ministry had gotten from Dad yesterday evening.
"Hello, my name is Laetitia Protcham, and this is Freia Opallon," said the smiling woman. She looked about thirty, and her smile was friendly and warm. Harry didn't understand why, but he instinctively felt that she was trustworthy, even a good person. She stood slowly, and he noticed that both of the women, like the secretaries out in the lobby, were wearing pale green robes. "Harry, if you could please come with me, we can leave the grown-ups alone for a little while?"
He nodded, but as she walked around the table, extending her arm, he added, "Could Ginny come with me?"
Miss Protcham nodded emphatically. "Yes, of course. I do hope I'm not too scary, though!" she laughed. He turned to see where Ginny was, and she grabbed his hand. "Right, well, just follow me then."
They followed the woman out through a door on the right of the room, glancing back at their friends and family one last time before going through. Fred was already doing something to the back of Ron's shirt.
The room beyond was about the size of Ginny's bedroom. There was a smallish, round table in the middle with a few chairs around it, and there was a clear jug of pumpkin juice and some chocolate frogs. The walls were a warm burgundy colour, with a couple of small posters of'Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle' and 'Men in Black'.
'I think the men in black are some foreign aurors. I can't remember where they're from, though,' Ginny thought through their link as they sat.
"So, how are the two of you today?" Miss Protcham asked.
"Great, Miss Protcham," they replied.
"Oh, I feel so old," she grinned. "Now, I do believe that you're going to be Harry's sister, is that right, Ginny?"
"Um, y-yes, but I'm not sure," she stuttered. She was blushing a bit, and Harry decided to take over.
"Well, I think I'm supposed to stay a Potter, but Mr. And Mrs Weasley will be my parents. It was a bit confusing, but I think Ginny would be my sister-in-law," he supplied.
"Yes, that's what the papers have been changed to say," she said, chewing her cheek thoughtfully. "I can't really remember the last time these had to be edited..."
Harry began to feel unreasonably guilty. "Well, you know, I'm supposed to be the last of my family. I didn't want to just let it die. I ... I don't have much left." He ducked his head. He hadn't really meant to say so much, but ever since Ginny had forced his story out of him back in September, he'd found himself being more open. The aforementioned girl squeezed his arm and gave him a little kiss on the cheek, which made his face burn, but he felt a bit more confident.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to pry," Miss Protcham said in a soft voice. "Well, I suppose we had better move on to the legal stuff, or we'll be making everyone else wait for us." They nodded. "Before we start, I just want to make sure that you know that anything said here today will stay here. We will completely respect your privacy and everything will be confidential." She received another two nods. "Okay, well, Harry, how long have you known Mr. and Mrs Weasley?"
"I met them at Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was looking for someone to take care of me, and Ginny owled her parents about it. They came to visit me a few days later, and we organised things for me to spend the Christmas holidays with them," he explained.
"Okay, and if you don't mind, what was wrong with going back to where you grew up? Sorry, but not a lot is known about your childhood, and no amount of homework helped me with that," she said.
"Well, Professor Dumbledore told me that there was some kind of protection there for me because my aunt had my mum's blood in her. That's about all I understood. But I didn't really like it there, and something I said or did at Hogwarts messed up the protections, so Dumbledore didn't think it was safe for me to go back there," he elucidated.
"Oh, well I suppose your growing up with muggles would explain no-one knowing about it," she mused.
"I don't know, but I didn't like them. They didn't like me, either," Harry elaborated. She looked up at him. "It doesn't matter. I don't have to see them again."
"You know that we can work with muggle social services to handle certain ... situations, Harry," she suggested. Ginny perked up at this, and the woman frowned, seeming to realise that she was missing a lot of the story.
"I don't want you to," Harry said firmly. Ginny gasped openly, her head snapping round so fast that her hair whipped Harry in the face. "Pffff. No, I'm serious. I think they were more afraid of magic and what abilities I might have than they really hated me as a person."
"Listen, Harry. I can't force you to do anything, but if they have harmed you, in any way, it's my responsibility to do what I can to bring them to justice."
"I just want to forget about them. I don't want anything to do with them anymore," he said softly.
"That's okay, Harry. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me," Miss Protcham said fervently. She let out a breath, straightening her robes and readjusting her seat, but the smile that returned to her lips when she looked at Harry was unstable. "Let's move on from that then."
"Thank you," Harry murmured gratefully.
Miss Protcham ran a hand over her forehead, and seemed to properly regain her composure. "You spent your Christmas with the Weasleys. Did you enjoy it?" she asked.
"Oh, yes!" he responded excitedly. "It was great! We all went to visit Ginny's second oldest brother, Charlie. He works with dragons in Romania. I don't think I'd do it for a living, but it's so cool!"
She evidently couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. Harry felt his cheeks heat up, and Ginny giggled at him. Annoyed, he jabbed her in the ribs, making her squeak. Miss Protcham raised her eyebrows, but he just gave her an innocent look, and she grinned back at him.
"So you like all the Weasleys, then?" she asked. She was making notes on a piece of parchment she'd conjured when they sat down.
"Well, Percy's a bit uptight, but he started to loosen up a bit over the holidays," Harry began.
"It's weird, really," Ginny interjected. "He hasn't made a joke since he was ten or something, but he's been getting less … yeah, less uptight, I guess."
"Anyway, I haven't actually met Bill yet, but he's Ginny's favourite, so I don't doubt I'll get along with him," he went on. "I get along brilliantly with everyone else." He noticed Ginny smirking at him, and fought the blush with everything he had. He thought Miss Protcham might have figured something out by now, though.
"So you're going into this entirely voluntarily?" she asked. He stared at her incredulously. "Sorry, I have to ask. It's legal stuff." He nodded.
"I do want this," Harry said firmly.
'Doesn't mean there weren't incentives, does it?' he asked Ginny. He just about refrained from a victory dance when her face lit up like a beacon, settling for a satisfied grin. He noticed the odd look they were being given, but ignored it.
"Well then, there's not much left to do here. But seeing as we are talking confidentially, might I ask whether there's something going on between you two? Sorry, but it looks like it, and with the amendments to the papers..." she asked.
"Um..." Harry glanced at Ginny, even though she'd already grudgingly agreed to admit to it telepathically. "Yeah, there is."
"Well then, I guess congratulations are in order," she said, grinning at Ginny. "You'll probably break dozens of hearts up and down the country."
Ginny smiled serenely.
Meanwhile, in the main interview room, Mrs Opallon had just finished her interrogation of Mr. and Mrs Weasley over their ability to support an additional child. They had successfully avoided Harry's little spending spree, and got around the funding problems through the fact that his parents had already set up a Gringotts account with Hogwarts to support him through his school career.
"Well, you seem able to support him, since he is really already taken care of, at least financially. Now, why do you want to adopt? You already have seven children of your own, after all," Mrs Opallon inquired.
"Well, he's a very close friend of our two youngest, and due to unforeseen circumstances, he cannot return to his previous home," Mrs Weasley stated. "From what we've heard, his previous guardians weren't very ... pleasant to him, and we want to give him what they didn't."
"Am I to understand, then, that you weren't looking to adopt a child, you just want to look after Harry Potter?"
Mr. Weasley sighed. He'd been waiting for this one. "No, you're right. We weren't looking to adopt just any child. We weren't looking to adopt at all. We were perfectly happy with our family. But when your daughter writes home to you, saying that her closest friend has no home, no family, and no one to go to when term ends... You tend to consider it a bit more seriously after that. We asked him to come with us for this Christmas holiday because we wanted to get to know him, and see if adoption was a good idea. He gets on wonderfully with all of our sons — apart from Bill, of course, as they haven't met. Harry is a wonderful child, despite the hardships he has experienced. We have grown to have a wonderful relationship with him over the short time we've had together. We want to provide him with a home, and we want him as a part of our family."
"And you completely deny that his wealth or status has anything to do with the matter?" she asked.
There was uproar the moment the word 'wealth' left her mouth. Mrs Longbottom simply shook her head sadly.
"Completely," Mr. Weasley replied simply.
"There's no need to get so flustered over it," Mrs Opallon said wearily. "These are legal matters, and I am required to ask the required questions. Thank you, Arthur, for remaining calm. As an employee yourself, you must understand. One more question, if you will. I'm curious as to why you filed for adoption, rather than guardianship? Guardianship would still give you the right to speak for him legally..."
"I'm not sure," Mr. Weasley frowned. "I would have filed for guardianship, but Professor Dumbledore seemed to think this was a better idea. Maybe he thought that this would be healthier for Harry?"
"Perhaps," Mrs Opallon mused. "Perhaps we should trust the professor on this. He has, after all, seen many more children pass through his care than I have."
"I might as well speak up now," came Augusta Longbottom's voice from behind them. "There's not much point in me being here otherwise, and I don't waste time unless I'm enjoying it. Augusta Longbottom," she directed at Mrs Opallon. The official nodded, and Augusta rose and walked to the front. "I was close with Arthur's parents, and as such, I have known many members of the Weasley family quite well, including Arthur and Molly. Never in their lives would any Weasley do something purely for money. It is a family trait, and I'm afraid that it is why many families with less clear moral codes have a financial advantage over them. I can personally vouch that neither Molly nor Arthur would be doing this out of a desire to use the boy to further themselves. I'm quite sure, in fact, that his status is rather a nuisance to them, since it inspires questions like the one you just asked." She nodded curtly to Mrs Opallon, and sat back down.
The official smiled briefly. "Noted, Lady Longbottom. Thank you."
Neville took a deep breath, swallowed heavily, and stood. His grandmother was giving his slightly shaking legs a disapproving look. He walked forwards, quite visibly aware that everyone's eyes were on him. "I'm Neville Longbottom. I'm a friend of Harry's." Opallon nodded and made another note. "Harry is great friends with both Ron and Ginny, anyone at Hogwarts could tell you. I remember when Professor Dumbledore told Harry about how he couldn't go back to those muggles. He was so happy, and Ginny made fireworks or something when he told her. They're ... really close." Ron made a face at that. "If anyone I knew was going to take him into their family, it'd be her and Ron."
He received a brief nod as more notes were taken, and a line drawn. He sat back down gingerly and avoided his grandmother's gaze, so he didn't see anything in her expression besides the usual impatience.
"Does anyone else wish to testify as to whether or not Harry would be best raised at the Weasleys?" Mrs Opallon asked.
Ron stood, not noticing that his shirt was now at least eleven sizes too big. No one was paying any attention to the material spilling out from under his jumper. "Hi, I'm Ron — Ron Weasley. I don't reckon there's much more to say, really. We liked having him with us. He said he really liked staying with us. We all like him a lot, and he likes us, so where else would he go?"
"I am Percy Weasley," Percy butted in. Fred and George looked up, amused. "I was just wondering where Harry would be placed if he wasn't allowed to be placed with us?"
Mrs Opallon looked up. "Well, Mr. Weasley, he would become a ward of the Ministry, and would be placed in the orphanage the Ministry runs in Chelsea."
"I assume that you can guarantee that while there he will not be exposed to any irregular or extraordinary treatment based on his aforementioned status?" Percy asked. Ron was slowly blinking, trying to process what had just left his brother's mouth. Fred and George were sniggering over his language. Mr. Weasley turned and stared at his son.
"Well, any such behaviour would be for the Ministry to deal with," Opallon replied, looking curiously at Percy.
"So you do not deny that such behaviour may occur, and at such a formative time in a child's development, too. Since Harry is already comfortable with us, is that not a good reason why he shouldn't be sent off to live in an alien environment with people he does not know? Would he not naturally rather stay with people he is familiar and friendly with in a world he was only recently introduced to?" Percy went on. Fred and George had finished their sniggering, and they too were staring at their brother. They had noticed him lose some of his pompous nature. He was simply comfortable in the position he was in. He didn't need to press his authority here, and seemed to have realised that for once. He was just demonstrating it, and with lethal force from the half-approving, half-concerned look on the official's face.
"I cannot deny it. You are, of course, correct. However, I have one last question for Mr. and Mrs Weasley," Opallon replied, her lips twitching. "What was the reason for the modifications to the documents provided?"
Mr. Weasley exhaled slowly. "Well, we knew from the beginning that Harry is the last of the Potters. He deserves to carry on his family name. It is a noble house, and well respected. The tragedies that brought it to have only one surviving heir gave honour to the names of the fallen and we have no right to strip him of that heritage.
"Well, I think we can respect your privacy on this matter," Opallon said, shaking her head confusedly. It was at that moment that Miss Protcham returned with Harry and Ginny. "For now, however, I must ask you all to wait outside while my colleague and I deal with the bureaucracy."
They filed out of the room, Harry and Ginny turning to wave to Miss Protcham before they left. Mrs Weasley undid whatever the twins had done to Ron's shirt, which he was in serious danger of tripping over, but only after giving Fred and George an earful for it. They all found seats in the lobby, and settled themselves for a long wait.
"Augusta, didn't you say you had an appointment to attend to?" Mr. Weasley asked curiously. They had been waiting for nearly an hour, and some people were beginning to let their nerves show. Ginny, for one, was gripping Harry's arm a little too tightly to be comfortable.
"I must remain while Neville is here, and I believe we both wish to see the outcome. I did leave time until my appointment, but it can wait for this," she replied.
"You may come through now," the secretary announced. Everyone took a deep breath before they stood. As they walked in, Harry found himself squeezing Ginny's hand with just as much force as she'd just been exerting on his arm.
Even Fred and George looked solemn as they re-entered the interview room. They all sat down in their original places, apart from Ginny, who sat with Harry at the front.
"Well, we won't keep you waiting any longer," Miss Protcham teased, waiting a few seconds without saying anything. Fred and George laughed appreciatively, but Mrs Opallon shot her a disapproving look, and she relented. "We've approved your application. Please keep in mind that this is only a preliminary judgement. We will magically bind the contract in six months' time, so long as there are no problems. I will be coming to visit during the holidays and at school over the next few months, Harry, to see that everything is going well."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. That was it then. Ginny embraced him tightly, and his mind, which had been in a state of high turbulence since the whole affair began back in November, finally quieted.
"Pending final approval, Harry James Potter, you are now a quasi-member of the House of Weasley under the parentage of Arthur William and Molly Astraea Weasley. You retain your name and inheritances as scion of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, and remain officially a member of that House."
A Filibuster Firework erupted overhead.
The smoke from the train was so thick, Harry wondered whether magic was the only reason they weren't all choking to death. He kept a firm grip on the small, warm hand in his left and the handle of his trunk in his right hand. A few seconds later, Harry and Ginny broke out from the low cloud cover to a clear view of Platform 9¾. Neville and Hermione were already there, chatting animatedly by one of the doors. It was a quarter to eleven, and almost everyone was on the platform. And Harry and Ginny had already lost the rest of the family in all the smoke and noise. They hurried over to their friends, dodging the odd cats that had escaped their travel baskets and excitable younger siblings of students who were running around the platform.
"Harry! Ginny! Neville just told me — I'm so happy for you, Harry!" Hermione babbled before enveloping them both in a crushing hug.
"Come on, Hermione, they need to breathe!" Ron called. The rest of the Weasleys had found them, then.
"So, um, introductions I guess," Harry said, grinning. "Mum, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Mrs Weasley."
"Hello, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said politely.
"I hope you'll be looking after Harry and Ron," Mum replied. "From what they've told me, you're a good influence on them."
Hermione turned a little pink. "Um, I'll try, err, Mrs Weasley," she stuttered. Harry, Ginny and Neville stifled their laughter behind their hands as Hermione turned still pinker. "Um, these are my parents," she said loudly to drown out the barely muffled laughter of her friends. "Mum, Dad, this is Ron, Harry and Ginny; that's Fred and George — don't accept anything they give you; that's Percy, who's a Prefect, and this is their mother, Mrs Weasley."
The dentists they'd heard so little about looked a bit uncomfortable surrounded by so many witches and wizards.
"Pleased to meet you," Mrs Granger said.
She was a slender woman, with Hermione's brown eyes and hair. Showing the same frizziness as her daughter, Mrs Granger wore her hair in a loose ponytail, with several fuzzy strands escaping and tumbling down over her eyes. No matter what Pansy Parkinson said, if that was the look Hermione was growing into...
Hermione was only a few inches shorter than her mother, but her father was a different story. He must have been about six feet tall, with bright blue eyes that were even now gazing, spellbound, at the Hogwarts Express. Mrs Granger had to nudge him back to reality.
"Oh, um, sorry. Hello," he said. There was a chorused reply. "Ah, if you don't mind me asking ... what do wizards do to look after their teeth?"
As the train left the station, they left the carriage door they'd been waving from to find the compartment where they'd left their trunks. Except that there were a few people already occupying it.
"Ah, look. Isn't that cute?" It was Malfoy. He'd brought a few more friends than usual. Harry smirked. The sod was afraid. He had good reason to be.
"Malfoy, you can take your dumb lackeys, and you can clear your arses out of here," Ginny snarled.
"Aww, does the little Weasel want more time with her boyfriend?" Pansy simpered. "You know, I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd be able to afford a love potion."
Harry shielded his eyes. Ginny had stepped forwards, and rather like the time when she'd caused an earthquake in the Gryffindor Common Room, she seemed to be radiating an invisible light. "I think you pissed her off, Parkinson," Harry commented. The carriage was wobbling dangerously now, and they all had to work to keep their footing. He leaned forward to whisper in Ginny's ear, "Calm down, Ginny, or you'll derail the train." She seemed to shake herself out of it, but at that point, Malfoy seemed to draw on his Slytherin impulses.
"Locomotor mortis!" he cried. His spell was immediately followed by Tarantallegras and Rictusempras from his housemates. Once again, time slowed for Harry. He could feel the threatening presences of the jinxes and hexes as they left their casters' wands. He could already determine their flight paths, and he shoved Neville and Hermione out of the way before bringing his wand to bear on the ones headed for himself and Ginny. He cast all the offensive spells he knew rapidly, marvelling at how his Rictusempra swirled around Malfoy's Locomotor Mortis before exploding in a shower of golden sparks.
He noticed Ron and Neville aiming for Crabbe and Goyle, and grinned. Harry wasn't the scrawny little thing that had come to Hogwarts months before. He charged at Malfoy, unaware that the time-warping was still active. As it was, all one hundred and thirty seven centimetres and thirty five kilograms of Harry James Potter slammed into Draco Malfoy at a good thirty miles per hour. The unfortunate Slytherin was thrown back into Nott and Bulstrode with some force.
"Now clear out," Ginny growled. "We won't say it again."
As if to emphasise the point, Neville's wand sparked and hissed with suppressed energy.
"No wand, Granger? Did you lose it in all that... is it even hair?" Pansy said.
Hermione didn't spare her a glance. "No, I just don't think you're worth the effort."
"No, you'll just get scarface here to save you every time," Pansy shot back.
"Well, from the state of you, I'd say he's pretty good at it," Hermione retorted.
"You know, Parkinson, I'm surprised your daddy hasn't taught you anything more dangerous yet. Does he think you're too stupid to use a decent curse?" Ginny added with a sneer to rival Malfoy's.
"Has your daddy taught you how to plant money trees yet, Weasel?" Pansy bit back.
"Yeah, it's an interesting little potion," Ginny snarled. "Needs eye of Slytherin girl."
Parkinson shrieked with laughter. "Come and get it, tramp!"
Poor Malfoy was just recovering from the first skirmish when jinxes started flying again.
"IMMOBULUS!" Hermione yelled. The spell froze them all in place. Unfortunately, she'd used the spell with such force, there'd been a bit of friendly fire. Ron and Neville, who'd been about to physically tangle with Crabbe and Goyle, were drifting slowly towards the Slytherins. Harry yanked them back before they had to endure a different kind of closeness.
"Fantastic, Hermione," Ginny smiled. "Now let's throw them out the nearest door."
The fear in their eyes was unmistakable. Malfoy grunted. Hermione looked up at him, surprised. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't break the spell's hold as quickly as he'd hoped for. She re-cast it, and released Ron and Neville, who stretched as if they'd been lying down a long time.
"I don't know about throwing them off the train," Neville grinned. "They might be found."
"Actually," said Ron, "let's leave them where they are."
They looked to him, surprised.
"What?" he asked. "Never let your enemy out of your sight."
Neville shrugged. "You're the chess guy mate."
"You're forgetting the not turning your back on them bit," Ginny remarked. "And the not hanging out your dirty linen."
"What dirty linen?" Ron asked.
The situation was resolved for them when a pair of Hufflepuff prefects showed up. A lot of quick talking and a detention each later, the Slytherins were being ushered out of the compartment. Harry could think of better ways to spend a Monday afternoon than cleaning stuff for Mr. Filch, but it had been worth it just to see the look on Malfoy's face as he smashed the little prick.
"So Hermione ... how was your holiday?" Harry asked brightly.
"Oh, it was excellent! I mean, it was really cold, but that's to be expected, isn't it? The snow was so thick, it was nothing like London. We went skiing, but I don't really think that's my thing. It's a bit too much like flying — lots of speed and not much control. No offence, but I can't really focus on controlling my momentum when I'm more worried about not falling over," she replied. Everyone was pleased that she wasn't talking quite so fast anymore.
"Well, you know, Hermione, some people are just born with those kinds of talents," Harry said, smiling to let her know he wasn't serious. "You can't learn everything from a book." The boys all laughed, while Hermione turned rather pink.
"So, what did you do in Sweden?" Ron asked. "Are there wizards there?"
He soon regretted asking, as she went off on one of her typical lectures about Sweden and its magical contingent.