Chapter 1

The smell of eggs and bacon wafted through The Burrow as Hermione came down the stairs. She gave Ron a good-morning peck on the cheek, which made him turn a particularly vivid shade of red. Ginny was right behind her on the steps, trudging along still half-asleep. She plopped down at her usual chair at the dining table, but when she looked to where Harry should have been, he wasn't there.

"Ron, where's Harry? Shouldn't he be up by now, being an early riser and all?"

Ron stifled a yawn. "Poor bloke's been having those dreams again. He kept me up half the night talking in his sleep... more like yelling, come to think of it. He'll probably sleep in."

Mrs. Weasley, who was carrying a rather large platter of pancakes to the table, just shook her head sadly. "Bless his soul; the dear just can't seem to get a break, hm? So worried, and the war's over and done with, after all!"

Just then, they heard Harry's footsteps upstairs, and they all tried to act "natural", which of course failed miserably.

"Mornin, all!" he called down to the table.

"Good morning Harry!" they chorused, watching him closely as he came down the stairs, while trying desperately to seem like they weren't.

Harry was a sight indeed. His typically messy black hair was even more unkempt than usual, sticking up in all directions, and the dark circles under his eyes had been there so long they seemed permanent. His pajamas were askew and wrinkled from his tossing and turning. Still, he wore a smile at seeing his "family" sitting around the table. He took his seat between George and Ginny as Mrs. Weasley brought the last of the breakfast to the table.

"Looks lovely, Mrs. Weasley!"

"Yeah, thanks Mum."

"Will you pass the muffins, Mione?"

This sort of chatter filled The Burrow as the group piled their plates full of food.

Harry turned to George, "So, how are things going at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

"Fantastic, Harry! I told you Angelina Johnson was helping out, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, we've been doing bloody brilliant business since she started! Lovely witch, she is, and a fine saleswoman to boot."

"We'll have to swing by there tomorrow when we go to Diagon Alley," Mrs. Weasley commented. "Sorry I told you we'd go today, loves. But I've got several chores to do, and it'll be easier if we wait until tomorrow. Is that alright?" The group nodded, even though they really didn't have a choice.

"I'm so excited for seventh year, Ron! We'll get to finish all of our classes and take our N.E.W.T.S. and see our friends. I think Professor McGonagall will do a fine job as Headmistress, don't you? Of course, I wonder who will teach DADA..."

Ron interrupted Hermione's rambling. "I'm excited too. I think we've really got a shot in Quidditch this year. Don't you think so, Harry?"

"Well, actually –"

Just then, Harry was cut off as a large old barn owl swooped in through the window and landed in front of Hermione. She untied two letters from its leg and gave it a small piece of her toast. It ate the snack, shook its feathers, and took off back through the open kitchen window.

"Hmm... wonder what this is. Looks like Hogwarts stationery, but we already got our supply lists. Oh, this other letter is for you, Harry," she added as she passed it to him across the table. She went on muttering unintelligibly to herself, posing rhetorical questions about the mysterious letters until she finally got the ribbon from it untied and the parchment unfurled. The rest of the table - including Harry, who hadn't even attempted opening his letter yet - simply stared at her.

"Oh my goodness... well, I didn't think... but this is so exciting... I wonder if..."

"JUST SPIT IT OUT, MIONE!" the rest of the table yelled in unison.

She jolted out of her reverie. "Well, this letter says I'm Head Girl!" she could barely suppress a smile.

"Congratulations, love –"

"Proud of you, dear –"

"How exciting –" The group erupted in praise of her accomplishment. In the midst of all this, Ginny gave Harry a knowing look that obviously said "Why is she so surprised?" Everyone knew Hermione was the brightest witch of their age. Of course she was Head Girl: she deserved it.

"Oh Harry, what did your letter say?" Hermione directed everyone's attention to him.

"Blimey, I haven't even looked at it yet!" He shook his head. He had forgotten all about it, with Hermione's excitement. He quickly undid the tie and opened the paper. He scanned it quickly, and then decided he hadn't read it right, so he went over it again. By this time, the group was all looking at him expectantly.

"...Well?"

"Bloody hell, I'm Head Boy!" Harry exclaimed.

As the room filled with chatter, he looked across the table and met Ron's eyes. For a moment, Harry found his expression unreadable, but soon Ron was beaming at him.

"Wicked, mate! That's brilliant," he reached across the table and shook Harry's hand good-naturedly.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley was fretting as she cleared the breakfast table. "So proud of you dears. You're going to need nicer robes! Oh, and some fine quills will be in order, of course. Goodness, I wonder what else I'll need to get you. Arthur and I were Heads, you know. Big responsibility..."

"Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and I have plenty of money in Gringotts, don't worry about us!" Harry assured her, but she didn't hear him. She continued to mutter incoherently as Hermione and Ginny helped her clean and put away the dishes.

"Well kids, it's been fun, but I'm off to Diagon Alley. Angelina said she'd open up the store this morning, but that I should be in by 10:30." George stood up and walked toward the fireplace, rummaging in his pockets for some Floo Powder.

Ron stopped him for a moment. "So... Angelina, eh?" he smirked at his brother.

"Sod off, little bro! None of your damn business!" With that, he said good-bye to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and was off.

"They'll be in an apartment together in six months, mark my words," Ron whispered to Harry.

"You really think so?"

"Of course. Have you ever heard him refer to anyone as a 'lovely witch.' Heck, have you ever heard him use the word 'lovely'?"

"True," Harry shrugged.

"Hey Harry! Wanna go play some Quidditch? Mr. Team Captain needs to start training more," Ginny said as she bounced over from assisting with chores. "Oh, Ron can you play Keeper for us? Thanks, bro!"

Harry started to walk towards the back door, but Ginny stopped him. "Your pajamas are nice and all, but I would recommend some actual clothes for Quidditch. Just a thought." She winked at him and made her way outside to retrieve the brooms. Harry turned around to Ron.

"Oy, does no one tell me anything? Team Captain! Since when?" Ron interrogated Harry.

"Sorry mate. I was about to mention it at breakfast, but then the Hogwarts owl sidetracked me. It slipped my mind, I suppose. Sorry about that. I didn't even know until we got our letters about seventh year last week; McGonagall slipped a note in there to me concerning Quidditch," he shrugged. He prayed that Ron didn't think he had avoided saying anything purposefully. He really had forgotten to tell him about it.

"Ah, s'okay. Proud of you, bud," Ron patted him on the back gently. "Well, what are you waiting for? You wanna get in shape and whip Slytherin this year, right? Go change!"

"Alright, mate."

A/N: I know it's a bit slow right now, but I'm trying to set things up for the plan I have in my head. Bear with me!