Harry woke up alone in Ron's bed, and the room, with the covers at his feet and and sun sieving through the old glass windows. Definitely a new experience since Ron is impossible to wake up any given morning, but after putting his glasses on he could with a quick glare at the old grandfather clock in the corner see that he had almost slept until noon. A quick jump out of bed, and an unfortunately cold shower later (Kreacher had "misplaced" the gold set shower knob that regulated the heat) he walked down half the stair-steps and tumbled down the rest. Crookshanks had been hiding in a small nook and jumped out just as Harry was walking past, and now both the boy and the kneezle-cat laid flat on the floor.
"Oh, my dear boy! Are you okay Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking ridiculously plump from frog perspective.
"Yeah, fine thanks, just a bit rumbled." he replied while waving his wand at his broken glasses.
"Oculus reparo!" he mouthed and supported himself on the banister with hope of getting of the ground without falling down again.
After the success with the concept of standing up, he followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen where most of the Weasley clan and Hermione where having lunch.
"Ah, Harry! Are we good enough for you now that we have food?" the twins said in unison.
"Feeling better?" Ginny kindly asked, and for a moment Harry looked at Ron before the red headed boy blurted: "Yeah, I told them about your headache, you know?" in a speed and manner that shouldn't have convinced anyone. Hermione looked knowingly at Harry, who had sat himself opposite of Fred. He had managed to put an entire piece of shepherd's pie in his mouth, and George was now trying to make him laugh. Soon they all could see mashed potatoes run out of a reasonable sized nose.
In an hour Hermione, Ron and Harry sat in the small backyard wearing unexpectedly many layers of clothing. The decking was constantly shadowed but at the same time the only place in the house they could be almost entirely sure of not being overheard, so they just had to abear the unusually chilly August winds.
"I do think you should tell Dumbledore about these dreams Harry, or Sirius. They might know what they mean!"
"Ah, give it up Hermione. Harry doesn't need to go blabbing about this to the whole order, they're just nightmares, I mean. He saw Cedric get killed for fuck's sake!" Ron ranted. "I dream of bloody Aragog from time to time, but it doesn't mean that I'm under constant danger. Just that they are so, so, so very scary."
Hermione and Ron went on, but to Harry it was just background noise. He had grown sick of just being around the Black estate, being kept out of all the order business and all the Weasley's staring at him as if he was doomed. On the other hand, maybe he was.
"Come." he said, rushing into the lower hall and then up the stairs. When Ron and Hermione caught up he had already gotten his invisibility cloak from his trunk.
"The order is busy for at least two more hours, and I've get out of here. Are you coming with me?" he said, and both of his friends nodded with slight reservation.
Once they stepped down the stairs of 12th Grimmauld place, and then took a right, Harry felt better in an instant. They walked down another residential road before getting to a small rundown mall, where Harry took at turn so abruptly that both Hermione and Ron went from invisibility mode under the cloak to the opposite.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, and he signaled his whereabouts with the flashing of a feet. Ron and Hermione walked after him into the mall and went over to the food court. Harry gave Hermione his small collection of pound coins he found around Little Whinging and then kept in a small box at the Dursley's in case he had to actually use muggle money. While Hermione was searching for some acceptable food (Fred's mashed potato incident had ruined everybody's appetite at lunch), Ron and Harry sat down on a dirty wooden bench.
"You know, I didn't tell her everything you said, Harry. Just that, that you have nightmares... Thought that you could tell here the rest, if you want to."
"Yeah, thanks." a small voice replied.
For an outsider, it seemed as if a ginger's hand was floating just a little bit over the worn wood, as if it was resting it on top of something unseen.
Hermione came back some minutes later with a McDonald's bag, slightly see-thru because of the grease accompanying the food. They went down a way where the faux-marble floor had been bent up and all that was left was hard concrete, and to their sides former muggle shops. Feeling secure in this non-attended part of the shopping center, Harry slid the cloak of himself and they sat down to eat.
"What is this rubbish!" Ron exclaimed, "I'd rather go veggie than eat this rubbish ever again!"
"Oh, come on Ron, it's not that bad." Hermione said. "I'd always loved it when my parents bought me fast food. Of course, I couldn't have any fizzy drinks but the fries are just divine, aren't they?"
"Muggles..." Ron muttered while still consuming his Big Mac like if he'd the munchies. When Harry and Hermione looked at him with judgment he simply replied:
"We'll a bloke's got eat, hasn't he?" with dressing on the side of his mouth.
On their way back, they talked like if they we're back at Hogwarts, where their concerns just stretch as far as essays and quidditch. It felt nice, but at the same time Harry thought, naïve. Everything had changed when he grabbed on to that port key in the maze. The dark lord wasn't a distant threat anymore, much more something constantly hanging over their heads all the time. A year ago, he'd never felt the need to conceal himself among muggles, but now... How could he know who was a death eater and who wasn't? What could he, Hermione and Ron possibly put up against them during a show down? They'd all be turned to smithereens right there on a pavement and well... That's just not that uplifting. And Hermione would never forgive him for getting her killed before the O.W.L's.
When they got thru the front door, Mrs. Weasley opened the double-doors from the dining room and jumped, startled.
"Oh, didn't see you there. What are you doing here in the hallway anyhow, I don't approve of you eavesdropping you know. What you need to know the order will tell you so now, off, off! Away with you."
Walking up the stairs the trio exhaled.
"We're bloody lucky she didn't catch us coming in the door, she would have killed us!" Ron said, almost repeating Harry's stumbling spectacle from earlier this day. Harry grabbed Ron's left arm, and to keep himself from falling he had to grab Hermione's shoulder.
"Jeez mate, use your eyes!" Harry blurted, getting a death stare in return.
After spending a couple of hours upstairs just faffing around, and then some time downstairs being showed full of delicious food, Ron and Harry laid back on their beds.
"I'm so 'effing stuffed right now that I'd like to die. Please, oh please, won't someone just end my misery?" Ron complained like their would be no tomorrow.
"Avada kedavra!" Harry jokingly replied before they both started laughing heavily.
"Aouch, aah, my stomach!" Ron shouted as he tipped to his side from laughter, cramping insanely.
Harry reached for his book about quidditch thru the times, which he was giving a second go, and then laid back down on his side and started flickering thru the pages.
"Harry?"
"Yeah Ron?"
"What if you,, you know, die?"
"What do you mean; "What if I die?"
"It's just... I'm not really fond of the idea. If you're about to, just don't 'cause... We'll, you've got to think of me you know. I don't really have any friends except for you and Hermione. Seamus is Irish and you know how that kind of pisses me of, I mean. Just speak like normal people, why won't you? And Dean's busy snogging my sis'... So just. Don't die, okay?"
"... Yeah, thanks Ron. I'll try not to." Harry said, not sure how to respond to this very moderate and confusing expression of emotion.
"And Harry?"
"Yes?"
"I kinda do love you. Though you should know that, just in case you go dying on me."
"Okay Ron. Thanks." Harry said, still not looking up from the pages of his book in fear of an awkward tension awaiting elsewhere in the room. Ron was watching the wallpaper, the same spot that Harry had watched last night, trying to avoid just the same thing. After trying to read the same sentence for the hundred and eleventh time, Harry walked over to Ron' bed an laid down beside him.
"I love you to, you know."