"Knew?! Knew?! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that… that school, and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family! Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as – as – abnormal – and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

"That outburst…" Madam Pomfrey said.

They weren't sitting in his room this time. They had chosen the top of a nearby rise, peaceful in nature's grace, with only the gentle wind to disturb them. Harry looked up at Madam Pomfrey, signaling that he was ready to go on. He was just surprised at the strength of the memory, although that wasn't as surprising as the monologue itself had been. Nobody ever mentioned the Potters at the Dursleys', and suddenly there was Aunt Petunia, venting what seemed like years of pent-up feelings.

"What do you make of it?" she finished.

"Well, I don't think she liked my mum very much," Harry muttered. He drew a breath, trying to focus on Aunt Petunia's words. "I… Actually, I don't know what happened to my grandparents. On my… on Mum's side, anyway."

Madam Pomfrey stared down at the Burrow. "They died, Harry. In the War."

"Oh," Harry said. He got the sudden, horrible feeling that he shouldn't ask after the circumstances. "Do you think Aunt Petunia blamed Mum for that?"

"It's possible," the nurse agreed. "Likely, even. But is there more?"

Harry stared at his hands. The Dursleys' hatred of him had been a constant in his life. This added depth to Aunt Petunia's character was at the very least unsettling, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel.

"Lily this…" Madam Pomfrey prompted. "Lily that…"

"You're saying she was jealous?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey just looked at him with a kind of gentle encouragement.

"So she was jealous of Mum, because she didn't have magic," Harry murmured. "And she was dumping that onto me…"

"I think you should talk to her. Not now," she said quickly, seeing his displeasure at the idea, "not necessarily, but you need to settle things with her at some point. There's a lot of issues still unresolved, and she deserves peace as much as you. At least as far as her sister's memory is concerned."

This conversation was responsible for Harry's low mood as he sat with Ron and Ginny, absently pulling grass out of the ground. There was something strangely satisfying about it. Ginny was collecting flowers to put in her hair...

As he watched her threading the bright primrose flowers into her orange-red locks, Harry's focus shifted away from his dark thoughts. The light breeze brushed some of her hair over her pink cheeks. Flying and fluttering with each gentle gust, the strands tickled at Ginny's soft lips and the tip of her little nose. She turned and caught his eye.

Harry couldn't hear what she was telling him, but he read it in her contented smile, the softness of her gaze and the emotion pouring through their bond.

"You're doing it again," Ron snorted.

Ginny rolled her eyes. Their brother was becoming more accepting of their... relationship. He still wasn't in the slightest bit happy about public displays of affection, but Ron no longer seemed to disapprove of their being together. It was a welcome change, considering the merciless teasing Ginny was giving Harry over the Hermione incident. At least she hadn't let anyone else find out.

Skipping over to Harry, Ginny stuck her tongue out at Ron as she came. Ron groaned and turned his attention back to the GameBoy.

"Stop that," Ginny said, stilling his hands. Harry yanked out the remaining grass with his fingers and began to flutter the blades over her palm. "Harry that tickles... Heehee, stop."

"Where is the rebel base?" Harry grinned, bearing down on her and tickling her neck.

"Gak!"

Harry fell back laughing. When he had recovered enough to sit up, he was met with a death glare.

"What in bloody hell was that?" Ron asked.

"The sound of victory," Harry sniggered.

All of the plucked grasses suddenly floated up around him.

"Oh really, Potter?"

"Goddammit."

They returned for tea in high spirits. The twins were in suspiciously high spirits as well, but they chose to ignore that concern.

"Ah, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "An owl came for you from the Ministry."

"Do they want to question me about Professor Quirrell?" asked Harry quickly.

"Why would they do that?" his mother asked. Harry frowned, considering the widespread speculation at school and the complete lack of media coverage, but didn't voice his concerns. She handed over the letter, which was addressed to Harry James Potter, The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devonshire. Strange how just that was capable of giving him this warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

"Thanks, Mum."

The letter, as it turned out, was a request for the second meeting with Miss Protcham from the Magical Contracts and Bonds Office. She wanted to come over on the coming Monday. Mrs Weasley said it was fine, so he sent Hedwig along with a reply. His snowy owl didn't even wait to be told where she was going. She just grabbed the letter, gave his ear a little nip and flew off into the sunny afternoon.

"Well, okay then," Harry shrugged.

Ron laughed at him. "Come on mate, let's play chess."

"Ron, you've beaten McGonagall," Harry said. "What challenge am I?"

"Good question," Ron grinned. "Ginny, want to come and help Harry lose to me?"

She replied with her hand.

Harry woke up on Monday morning to warm sunlight and a shadow lying over him. Reaching out swiftly, he grabbed whatever it was and found...

"Dobby?" Harry hissed. He released the elf, who dropped back and bowed deeply, before looking furtively at him and shrugging nervously.

"Dobby is apologising most profusely sir, but Dobby was nearly being discovered, Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

Harry kneaded his forehead, trying to work the sleepiness out. "Do you really think there's anyone in this house who doesn't know you were here?"

Dobby gulped visibly. "Sir, if Dobby's family was knowing that Dobby is here, sir..."

"Just please tell me why you're here," Harry groaned.

"Dobby is afraid that it is difficult, Mr. Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, pulling at his massive ears. "Dobby wonders where to begin."

"Well, let me get out of bed and we can sit and talk about it."

"S-sit?" Dobby muttered.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. This poor elf was not helping his groggy head. "There's a chair behind you, take a seat."

Dobby let out a sob.

"What," Harry muttered.

Dobby was actually crying, though it wasn't so loud that Harry was concerned about waking Ginny. He could feel the abstract happiness of her dream. "S-sit down? Never... Never ever..."

Getting out of bed with a grunt, Harry knelt down and took the house-elf's hand. "I'm sorry, Dobby, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend Dobby?" Dobby choked. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard... like an equal..."

Harry did his best to comfort him, bringing over the desk chair and putting him up on it. Dobby stared down at the floor and burst into tears again. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," said Harry, trying to cheer him up.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the corner of the chair, saying, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Don't – what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the chair – Hedwig had woken up with a screech and had abandoned her cage in favour of circling overhead.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"

"Look, don't hurt yourself while you're here, okay?" Harry sighed. "I know I can't overrule your family's orders, but surely if they haven't told you to punish yourself then you don't need to?"

"Harry Potter doesn't want Dobby to be hurt... Dobby has heard of Harry Potter's greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew..."

Harry felt his cheeks burn. "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is utter rubbish. Ginny and Hermione are the brilliant ones. Although I do have to be good to make up for Ginny's evil..."

"Harry Potter sir is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..."

"Voldemort?" said Harry.

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron came about this close to a heart attack the first time I said it."

Dobby leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights.

"Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped yet again."

"Okay seriously, how do you know and there still hasn't been an official investigation?" Harry said. "Somebody died down there. I sure came close..."

Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. "Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later… Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

"What," Harry said.

"Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" said Harry in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and tried to bang his head against the wall, but Harry tackled him.

"All right!" hissed Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?"

A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him.

"Hang on... this hasn't got anything to do with Vol – sorry – with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod," he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"Not – not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir –"

But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint. Harry, however, was completely lost.

"He hasn't got a brother, has he?"

Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.

"So the people doing this have absolutely no connection to You-Know-Who?" Harry pressed, trying to think of other major threats. Grindelwald, the Dark Lord that Dumbledore's chocolate frog card said he'd defeated, was a small possibility. If Dumbledore was still alive, some of Grindelwald's followers might still be too.

But Dobby was squirming.

"There is a connection..." Harry muttered. "Are the people plotting this some of You-Know-Who's old followers?"

Dobby tried to attack the wall again, but Harry stopped him, and he nodded, though it was becoming incredibly difficult to restrain the little guy.

"Okay, think, Harry, think..." Harry muttered. "Who apart from You-Know-Who could challenge Dumbledore?"

Dobby calmed his struggles for a moment, and Harry relaxed, sighing with relief. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir" – Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper – "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"

And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the chair and started beating his head against Harry's desk with barely restrained yelps.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Dobby, you spend as much time in his bedroom as I do," Ginny grinned.

Dobby made a kind of squeaking sound, before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

"So..." Ginny yawned. "Find out anything interesting?"

"He's coming here to try to stop me from going to Hogwarts because some Death Eaters are plotting to do something there this year."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"We heard some awkward noises," said Fred, slipping into view.

"Decided better us find you than Mum," George added.

"We're glad we were wrong though," Fred grinned.

"You two spend more time snogging than breathing," George sighed.

"Shove off you two," Ginny laughed, punching Fred's shoulder.

George looked over at Harry. "Go on."

"What's happened?" Fred asked.

"Dobby," said Harry.

With every person he explained it to, more people turned up. When Mum came to investigate, they moved to the kitchen to discuss it over an early breakfast.

"So this Death Eater plot is supposed to be beyond Professor Dumbledore because they're using particularly dark magic?" Percy muttered.

"How else would anyone expect to best Albus Dumbledore?" Mrs Weasley said. "Merlin, the things they did in the last war…"

"Hogwarts will still be safe, right, Mum?" Ron asked.

"Safe is kind of a relative thing at Hogwarts," Fred muttered.

"Regardless, I'm sure the staff will be extra careful after last year," Mrs Weasley sighed. "But if there's even the slightest whiff of something amiss, I want you to tell me, okay?"

Harry nodded, and gritted his teeth. If something happened at Hogwarts this year, he wanted to be ready. Ginny was a powerhouse to be sure, but she was just one girl, and he couldn't be reliant upon a couple of classroom charms and jinxes if there was another… issue.

"Good," Mrs Weasley smiled. "Now, there's a special day coming up soon, isn't there?"

Harry looked up, curious, to find that everybody was looking at him. "What?"

"It's July now, Harry…" Ginny grinned, rolling her eyes.

Harry stared at her. "What."

"You didn't think we'd just let your birthday pass us by, did you?" said Mrs Weasley.

"Yeah, mate," Ron grinned, "birthday means presents."

Harry stared at them in turn, a smile pulling at his lips. That was still a novel concept.

"And Neville's the day before you," Ginny said. "He sent a letter yesterday about going to his house for his birthday and then coming here for yours."

"How come you didn't tell me?" Harry asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It was going to be a secret."

"Yes, well, I'm sure he would have figured it out at some point," Mrs Weasley said. "There's only so many random Floo trips you can excuse. Now, Harry, is there anybody you'd like to invite besides Hermione and Neville?"

"Well, uh…" Harry muttered. How did you make decisions like that? How many people should he invite? "I mean…"

"How about the Quidditch team?" Ginny suggested quietly.

"Is that okay, Mum?" Harry asked.

Mrs Weasley laughed. "Of course, Harry, it's your birthday. Invite whoever you like."

Harry scratched at his neck nervously. The girls and Oliver were four, Neville and Hermione made six. Seamus and Dean were his roommates, even if he didn't spend a great deal of time with them, so that made eight. Besides, he'd been a part of their birthdays at Hogwarts, even if there'd been no official parties. He could invite Luna, and then… Susan. Susan made ten. But the one person he couldn't not invite was the man who'd rescued him from hell itself. Rubeus Hagrid.

"No Slytherins, Harry?" Mrs Weasley teased.

"No Ravenclaws either," Fred noted.

"Suppose Hermione's put him off the nerdier crowd?" George chuckled.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" Ginny asked with a pointed glare.

"Nothing!" George grinned, putting his hands up in self-defence.

"Just that you could add up all the enthusiasm all the Claws have for schoolwork," Fred said.

"And it still wouldn't be as much as that girl's," George sighed.

"She'll die with a book in her hand," Fred said dramatically.

"Probably clobbering you two with it," Ginny snorted.

"All right, why don't you go and work on the invitations after breakfast," Mrs Weasley said, serving out bacon and eggs. "You know where everything is, don't you, Ginny?"

"Yes, Mummy," Ginny smiled.

"Susan Bones?" Ron asked. "Loony Lovegood? What gives?"

"For the millionth time, Ron, she's not mad!" Ginny said, glaring at him.

Ron shook his head. "Whatever. How come you're inviting them?"

"Because he's not a prick," Ginny muttered, fuming. Harry took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"I might not have spent much time with either of them," Harry said, "but Luna is Ginny's friend. And Susan… well, that's more complicated…"

"Personally, I think it's a wonderful gesture, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "Ron, what did I tell you last time about calling Luna that? I know they're a little… err… different, but that doesn't give you the right to start calling them names."

"Yes, Mum," Ron muttered, the tips of his ears going red. "Sorry."

"I'm so glad that this has been working out for you, Harry," Laetitia smiled, rising.

"Me, too," Harry grinned.

"Harry, I'll be straight with you," Miss Protcham said.

'Well, the other way would be difficult.'

She smirked slightly as if she'd picked up on his thought pattern. "I don't see any problems here. You've settled in well, your new family cares about you… When I get back to the Ministry, I'm signing you off."

Harry's grin widened painfully. "So, that's…?"

"All done, yep," she chuckled. "And you don't have to see any more of me, which I'm sure is a relief."

Harry blushed. "No, I…"

"Oh, don't worry, Harry," Laetitia laughed. "I'm only teasing you. Let me just go and say goodbye to your parents."

"Laetitia?" said Harry. "Thank you."

Miss Protcham knelt down and embraced him briefly. "It's been a pleasure, Harry. I'm just sorry that the story leaked so quickly. The newspapers have unrestricted access to any records going through that haven't been sealed by a head of department, but even still…"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "We're getting used to the attention."

"I hope so," she winced. "You being you, there'll be a lot of that."

"Take care," said Harry.

"You, too."

A few minutes later, she disappeared through the Floo connection.

"Well," Harry said as Ginny joined him in the living room. "That was… anticlimactic."

"Ooh, has Hermione been teaching you long words?" Ginny teased.

"Yeah, let me show you what defenestration means," Harry grumbled. "Seriously though, when they made the first decision at the Ministry, it was a massive moment, but this…"

"Does it matter?" Ginny grinned.

"Not a bit," Harry admitted.

Ginny grabbed his arm. "Tell you what, let's go celebrate."

"Why should we go anywhere?" Harry asked, spinning to pin her against the wall. Her eyes were wide and staring at his lips as her breathing ran ragged.

"Because here," George said.

"We have to see you," Fred continued.

"Every time we walk past," George finished.

With an awkward squeezing sensation, they were up in Ginny's tree. Unable to find his balance having gone from firm, flat ground to firm, rounded branch, Harry let himself fall. Ginny was already leaning against the trunk. Reaching out, he placed his hand next to her head and caught himself before he could crash into her.

"A little warning next time?" Harry grunted.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ginny panted.

Harry looked down. While Ginny could hop from branch to branch to bring the drop down to a metre or so, from here the fall was more like three.

"Geronimo?" Harry suggested, jumping off. He landed on slightly bent knees, letting himself roll sideways away from the tree. A foot stopped his roll, and he found Ginny standing over him.

"I have an idea," she said.

"Who should be scared?" Harry grinned.

Ginny raised her eyes skyward. "Come on."

Harry took her hand, and found his feet on... nothing at all.

"Ginny?!" Harry called, just as they slammed into the water. 'I can't swim!'

'Relax,' she crooned in his head.

Her hand was holding his in a reassuringly firm grip, and Harry gritted his teeth, focusing on that. Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore that he was submerged up to his neck and couldn't feel the bottom. And Harry soon realised that he wasn't going any further down. That didn't banish his fear, but it enabled him to control it as he held her warm hand tightly in his.

"I thought, you know, I could just dry us off afterwards," Ginny shrugged.

Looking around, Harry saw that they were in the middle of the river where Luna came to fish.

Seeing that he was no longer panicking, Ginny began to smile broadly. "And maybe I can teach you."

Harry's eyes lit up. The Dursleys had never taken him for swimming lessons as they had Dudley. They'd taken him to the swimming pool once, though — to watch. And then they'd gone down at the end so Aunt Petunia could fawn over Dudley, and the bastard had pushed him in. Water burned in his nose and his lungs were on fire, but in the baggy hand-me-downs the Dursleys made him wear, Harry's thrashing had only dragged him down, down...

Harry's breathing came ragged and shallow again as he went back to that moment.

"Hey," Ginny said softly, embracing him tightly and pressing her cheek to his. "You're fine."

Harry held her just as tight, breathing deeply in and out through his mouth. "No, I..."

He was staring into the yellow toilet water, pressing desperately against the sides of the bowl and yelling as Dudley and Gordon pushed him down... down...

"I can't..." Harry gasped. "Please..."

"Harry look at me," Ginny said.

Staring into her glowing eyes, feeling emotion flood through their link, the memories faded into background noise.

"I promise, you're safe."

His frantic heart calmed down, leaving a dull ache in his chest as he came down from his adrenaline high.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked horrified. "Harry, you think I'd have brought you here if I thought you were scared of water? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm not scared of water," Harry muttered. "Just, you know... being in it."

"Merlin, I should've just Apparated us out," Ginny said, distraught. She did just that, with a little splash.

They lay dripping on the bank, and Harry stared down at the stream. "I've never even put a foot in water before. Not willingly anyway. I tried to take a bath at Hogwarts, and I just..."

"I'm so sorry," Ginny sniffed. He looked towards her, alarmed, but she wasn't crying. Not quite, anyway. "I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I know what I was thinking, but I thought I could help..."

"You did," Harry said softly. "That's what I was trying to say."

Reaching out, he put a hand in the slightly murky water. A shiver travelled up his arm, but he forced himself to keep it submerged. Ginny put a hand on his shoulder, and in an instant he was dry.

"Do you want to go home?"

Harry turned to look at her. He remembered how she'd reacted to the idea of him being afraid of dragons. There was no disappointment in her eyes. She was worried about him. Somehow, that was both better and worse.

"No," he whispered. "Just... let's stay for a while."

"I remember that the water used to be dirtier than this," Ginny said absently. "Or at least, I remember it vaguely. When I found that place, I was pretty annoyed that I couldn't see the bottom of the river where it went past."

"Was it murkier than this?" Harry asked.

Ginny smirked. That section of the river was almost transparent, it was so clear. To be fair, it was only about a metre deep, but still... "It's only as clear as that for about twenty feet or so, but it's been that way for about five years."

Harry stared back down at the river. It was nowhere near the Thames, but he still wouldn't drink from it. "Is the water actually clean?"

"No," Ginny huffed. "I tried to drink from it once, but it wasn't nice."

"Sounds like you've got another project for the summer then," Harry grinned. "I wonder what the Muggles will think."

"Reading up on wards?"

Harry saw Ginny's expression go through about fifteen combinations before she Apparated out of her chair, throwing herself at her older brother with a cry of "Billy!"

"It's good to see you too, Firefly," he grinned.

William Weasley was a tall, powerful looking man with a demeanour that almost seemed dark, though his smile was warm and inviting. It was an intimidating effect. Although it was mitigated slightly by the babbling Ginny hanging off him. He carried her off up the stairs, chuckling at her antics.

"And how come I didn't know you were coming?" Ginny pouted accusatorially up at Bill.

"Didn't you like the surprise?"

Harry exchanged glances with the twins - Percy was shut up in his room as usual - who both looked as though Christmas had come early. They'd completely abandoned the cartoon they'd been watching in light of this interesting new development.

"If only Charlie was here as well," Fred sighed forlornly.

"Such a happy reunion that would be," George agreed.

"This is going to go badly for me, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Why so blue?" said Fred.

George grinned ominously. "You're a good bloke aren't you, mate?"

"What on Earth would you have to fear..."

"... from Ginny's closest..."

"... dearest..."

"... favourite..."

"... most lethally trained of brothers?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine," George said.

Harry was sure he needed to visit the toilet.

"And did you see his hair?" Mrs Weasley's voice drifted in from the back door.

Fred rolled his eyes. "She's been at him about that since his seventh year."

"You're Head Boy now, you have to be presentable," George imitated, though very quietly.

"Hello, boys," Mr. Weasley said.

"I did think Mum showing an interest in your experiments sounded fishy, Dad," George said.

"Well played, Mum and Dad," Fred grinned.

"It appears we still have much to learn," George added.

Mrs Weasley adopted a stern look. "Preposterous. I have no idea where you get your mischievous inclinations from."

"Harry, you'll be sharing with Ron for the next two weeks," Mr. Weasley said. "Try not to make too much noise."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Dad," Harry grinned.

"I'm sure," Mr. Weasley said.

When Bill and Ginny came back down, Harry found anxiety creeping through him. He couldn't stop rolling his ankle for some reason, and his collar felt much too tight.

"Boo!"

"Shit," Harry said, rolling forwards neatly under the table. It was almost smooth, until his forehead came up and smashed into its underside.

There was a splashing sound, and whichever twin had startled him cried out through his laughter. Ginny's hand grabbed him by the forearm, and suddenly he was groaning in pain at Bill's feet instead of under the table.

The man himself stood in what looked like a black dragonhide jacket and boots, the armour-like hide so thick it may have been battle-ready. Perhaps, with Bill being a Gringotts curse-breaker, that was the idea. Underneath was a close fitting, dark red robe that was clearly cut to not obstruct his movement. He looked down at Harry over crossed arms with a kind of open-mouthed, exasperated pity.

"This your boyfriend?" he asked Ginny.

"That's him," she giggled.

Harry sighed and stood up. "I probably should've been expecting that. Hi."

"Hi," Bill replied.

Harry then noticed the ear piercing, with a fang hanging from it.

"Goblin tradition," Bill explained. "You keep trophies. This was from my first job. Tomb had a bloody hydra in it. Wasn't very big, as you can see, but like they say, you always remember your first."

"How many heads did it have?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"Fourteen to begin with," Bill grinned. "The last one's sitting in my apartment back in Alexandria."

"How'd Mum react to that story?" Harry snorted.

Bill raised an eyebrow. "She hasn't heard it."

"Bill!" Fred said extravagantly.

"Esteemed eldest!" George added.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Good to see these two haven't changed."

"Thanks for noticing," Fred winked.

"Where's Perce then?" Bill asked.

"You walked right past him," Percy said from the stairs. "How's Egypt treating you?"

"Nearly as well as England's treating you," Bill said. "How's that Prefect badge?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Percy said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I really doubt you're the kind of prefect I was, Percy," Bill smirked.

Percy seemed unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not.

"Lookitim," Fred laughed. "Aww Perce..."

Percy seemed to get the message then and turned beet red.

"That wandless magic's pretty impressive, Ginny," Bill said. "I imagine you won the House Cup all by yourself this year."

"These three helped a little bit," Ginny said dismissively.

"The twins?" Bill said. "You sure?"

"No, you're right, they probably lost as many points as the rest of the Gryffindor team earned put together," Ginny sighed.

The boys in question bumped fists, grinning proudly.

"So I hear you lot have had an eventful year," Bill said.

They together managed to recount every single detail. Ginny even went to distract their mother while Harry and Ron told everyone what had really happened to the troll. Percy looked horrified and alarmed, but the others were deeply impressed. Bill agreed with Professor McGonagall's assessment of their deciding to fight it rather than lure it away, but he still seemed to admire their decision to intervene and prowess in bringing it down.

As the events became more and more dangerous, Bill started to look concerned. He was incredulous that they would put a cerberus behind a door locked only with a latch. The fact that the Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts didn't faze him, but he found its protections highly unsatisfactory.

"I've only done a few jobs so far," he said. "But I have never, ever seen something precious protected like that. You either hide it in plain sight, or you ward it so that nobody can run across it or its protections. Merlin's beard, a door? A door he warned the entire school not to look behind? I'm surprised half the school weren't eaten. The Fidelius should have been..."

Mrs Weasley called Bill away then. He returned a couple of minutes later, sighing, "Dumbledore knows best though, I suppose."

He was slightly less critical for the rest of the retelling, and Harry assumed that Mrs Weasley had calmed him down.

When they had finished, Bill gave the three of them appraising looks. "Not bad for your first year."

"Dinner time!" Mrs Weasley called.

"Hey, boys," Bill said, blocking the twins off. "Good job."

They saluted, but their expressions betrayed their sincerity.

"And well done on going to someone for help," Bill said, looking to Harry, Ginny and Ron. "There's three rules universal to fighting. One, avoid a fight. Two, make sure you have everyone and everything with you that can help. Three, end it quickly."

Harry could tell that Ginny was committing his advice to memory. She completely adored Bill.

"So what's your score?" Fred asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bill said, though his smirk was pronounced as they sat to eat.

"Oh come on," George prodded.

"Everyone knows curse-breakers keep score," Fred said.

George nodded. "Just like Aurors and Hit Wizards."

"That would be childish and spurious," Bill reprimanded, though his eyes were glittering with mirth.

"Yeah, yeah, it's probably just terrible," George snorted.

"Been hiding out in the desert on account of his horrific record," said Fred.

Bill rolled his eyes, but his trials weren't even beginning. As she sat to eat, Mrs Weasley laid into William's appearance with a sort of kindly insistence that must have been driving him up the wall. And yet the eldest son brushed it off. His mother was entirely undaunted though, spending much of the meal dropping little comments about his hair and how simple it would be for her to shorten it. Harry began to realise why Bill had taken a job on another continent.

"… with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?"

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"What kinds of treasure have you seen?" Harry asked, hoping to divert the one-sided conversation.

Bill grinned at him. "All sorts. Some of them I'm not allowed to talk to you about."

"Aw go on, Billy," Ginny insisted. "We've seen a Philosopher's Stone..."

Bill's eyes dulled slightly at the mention of their adventure. "Well, then I'm sure you've seen it all, haven't you, Firefly?"

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. Like a shot, Bill reached out and flicked the end of it. A surprised giggle burbled out of Ginny as she stared down at the spot Bill's hand had occupied.

"The goblins have been working on your reflexes?" Mr. Weasley said approvingly.

"My mentor, Victor, is the best," Bill shrugged. "Tough, but the best. He didn't even want me to take these two weeks off to come and see you guys, but I wrangled it."

"How did you do that though?" Ginny asked, awestruck. "I barely even saw you move, before..."

"A combination of wards and practise," Bill grinned.

Harry was going to have to look into wards. If he could study them at Hogwarts they might prove useful... In his head, he laughed at himself. He was turning into Hermione.

After the meal, as everyone was going to bed, Harry screwed up his courage and pulled Bill aside.

"Err, Bill," Harry grimaced. "Are..."

His elder brother chuckled. "Let me break this down for you, Harry. I could have predicted that Ginny would be head over heels with you five years ago. But both the twins and Percy seem to like you. We're not going to have an issue."

"Oh," Harry muttered. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, I haven't done you any favours," Bill replied. "If you do something stupid, you'll still have six of us stomping on whatever she leaves of you."

"Yeah, I know," Harry smirked. As if Ginny would leave them anything to stomp on. "Night, Bill."

Harry trailed his hand through the slow-moving water, clamping down on the involuntary shiver.

"Take your time, Harry," Ginny said, standing in the river with the water lapping at her chest.

Nodding, Harry stood and walked in, the water soaking in through his trainers and making his socks squelch disturbingly within at the slightest movement. So far so good.

Ginny reached out and took his hands as he came within range, and his anxiety fled as he felt the amplified presence in his mind. "See, Harry?"

He grinned back at her. The water was cool and pleasant, if a little dirty; it swept around him, into him, an insistent request that he join it on its journey. A little too insistent, really, but without the Dursleys in the equation...

"Let's make some nicer memories," he said quietly, closing the gap between them and pulling Ginny into an impassioned kiss. She made a little keening sound, one arm around his neck and the other on his arm as she turned to putty in his embrace.

'Harry?'

'Yeah?'

'Do you plan on learning to swim today?'

'Sure, but I thought we could practise breathing underwater.'

She chuckled against his mouth. "Right..."

"So, what do I do?" Harry asked, indicating the water.

"Well, I guess the first thing would be to get you more comfortable with the water," Ginny said.

She had him lie on his back. As the water began to lick at the back of his head, panic burgeoned within him, but Ginny whispered in his ear, murmuring into his mind. His thoughts, scattered by his fear, refocused around her, and the adrenaline response faded. The water was covering his ear now, and his breaths were coming faster, but Ginny was there.

'How does it feel to float?'

Harry grinned at her. "Ginny, you're amazing."

She blushed brilliantly, and flames rippled in her hair.

"Come on," Harry smirked. His voice sounded almost foreign to him, distorted through the water. "What's next?"

Harry hadn't expected Ginny to be a good teacher. Her temper was too short for the profession, and she rarely had patience for those who couldn't keep up with her. But Harry was a fast learner.

Within an hour they were side by side, fighting against the current. Ginny's superior technique was far more advantageous than Harry's strength, but she stayed with him, encouraging him as they were slowly driven down the river. Breathing was Harry's biggest issue. Ginny kept telling him not to raise his head so high; that he just needed to turn it, but it was like an instinctive response. If there was one thing that Harry had learned in the River Otter, though, it was that instincts could be suppressed.

Pull, inhale. Pull. Pull. Pull, inhale. Pull.

Slowly, slowly, they drew to a halt. Every time Harry breathed in he could see that the river bank was no longer moving. It galvanised him. Like liquid fire pouring down his spine and filtering through his veins, he felt himself shift into fourth, fifth... He was moving forwards now, and not slowly either. The fatigue that had been building in his legs from the strange, rapid kicking faded away.

His hand slammed into the riverbed, and he dragged himself out of the water, propelling himself onto dry ground. Behind him, Ginny floated herself up after him, grinning like a madwoman.

"That was brilliant!" she cried. "You're as fast in the water as you are... everywhere else!"

Harry blushed at the praise. "Yeah, well, I had a good teacher."

Ginny beamed at him, Apparating the five metres between them to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Potter."

"Well, then," Harry said, running the backs of his fingers down her cheek until she shivered, "it's a good thing there's so much to compliment."

"I thought you wanted to keep things the way they are," she whispered.

Harry smirked and pulled her in closer. "Yep."

It was becoming a problem, really. Just holding her close like this gave him irresistible pleasure, a primal thrill that raced up his spine and set fire to his skin. And that terrified him. He never paid too much attention to religion. Not only would the Dursleys rather have been strung up than be seen in church with him, but it was just another way for them to try to crush his spirit - by excluding him, telling him that God did not care for him... Yet Harry felt that these urges of his were sinful in some way. They were children, after all.

"You're an arsehole sometimes," Ginny muttered.

And there was the reason why it was becoming a problem. Harry strove to keep his private pleasure private, even from her. Did she go to bed every night and think of him the way he thought of her? If she did, then why couldn't she understand how important it was that they held back?

"Yep," Harry replied.

Her delicate fingers dancing on the back of his neck, her teeth on his lips...

"We're going to miss tea, aren't we?" Ginny smirked.

"Absolutely."