AN: A hundred reviews! *faint trumpet noises and a tiny celebratory flag*
"Dear Tom, you'll NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED!
Hi, Ginny! What happened?
"Okay, so you know how Harry came to stay with us over the summer?"
No, I didn't. I thought he just lived with you.
"I WISH! No, he lives with his aunt and uncle. They're Muggles and Harry says they're horrible, he says they won't even let him SAY the word magic or talk about Hogwarts or anything, and they practically locked him in his room just because he got an owl and they only fed him TINNED soup, I can't even imagine how terrible TINNED soup must be, and they wouldn't let Hedwig, that's his owl, out to fly about because she might attract attention. They HATE magic and they HATE Harry and they're always FRIGHTFUL to him."
And you rescued him? If he was locked in his room how did you get him out?
"Well, my dad's got this old Ford Anglia—that's a type of car, I don't know if you have cars in 1942?"
Yes, we have cars, Ginny. Actually they just came out with the Ford Anglia. Or a Ford Anglia, there might be more than one. But why has your dad got one? Where did he even get it?
"I think he bought it. He loves Muggle stuff. It was really old and super rusty and he told mum he just wanted to take it apart to see how it worked, but he enchanted it to make it fly, and RON AND GEORGE AND FRED STOLE IT AND FLEW ALL THE WAY TO SURREY AND NICKED HARRY RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER HIS UNCLE'S AND AUNT'S NOSES AND FLEW HIM ALL THE WAY TO THE BURROW! Mum got REALLY shirty about it and told them off majorly."
What did you think?
"I thought it was brilliant, I wish they'd've taken me along."
Why didn't they?
"I don't know, they never let me do anything fun, they always say I'm too little. I'm ELEVEN, honestly, they should realise that I'm grown up by NOW."
Definitely. Sounds like they're a little hung up on themselves, to tell the truth.
"Always. BUT that's not the exciting part!"
What's the exciting part?
"For some reason Harry and Ron couldn't get through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, so they FLEW HERE IN MY DAD'S OLD FLYING CAR! They crashed into this old tree thing but they FLEW here, ALL THE WAY TO SCOTLAND IN A FLYING CAR ALL ON THEIR OWN!"
By Jove, that's something like! Good on them!
"It was REALLY exciting and everyone sort of gathered in the common room to greet them because Fred and George said they probably wouldn't be expelled, though Percy was all frowning and looking disapproving. He said they should've sent an owl."
Why couldn't they get through the barrier? Does anyone know?
"No, but maybe the boys've found out, I'll ask Ron tomorrow. TOMORROW! CLASSES START TOMORROW!"
I'm sure you'll do just wonderfully, Ginny. If you need any help, let me know—I'm top of my class, you know. Or rather, I was.
"Fred says the first thing they'll do is throw knives at me to test my reflexes, and then they'll make me transfigure a kitten! What if I do it wrong and the kitten doesn't survive, Tom?!"
Fred's one of the twins, right?
"Yeah. The mean one. Or, meanER."
Well, Mean Fred was kidding you. First of all, professors don't throw knives, especially not at first years, it's not allowed. And, unless school has completely changed since my year, you won't even transfigure anything alive until second term, and nothing like cats until years and years. And before you do they teach you exactly how. And, if you do make a mistake, there are ever so many teachers there to help you fix it.
"Will the kitten survive?"
I can guarantee it.
"There's a cat lives in the castle, I saw it on the way in. Not like the chickens and things that Mr Hagrid keeps, it lives in the castle. I like cats normally but that one looks a little creepy. Ron said it belongs to the caretaker; he says that once a boy was taken down to the caretaker's office and someone smelled cooking coming from his office and that boy was NEVER SEEN AGAIN."
Oh, Ginny, don't be silly. A prefect told me that story about our caretaker decades before your one was probably ever born. Have you heard the one about the Muggle-born organ harvesting scheme? Or the werewolves in the Forbidden Forest? They're just trying to frighten you.
"You haven't seen this caretaker bloke. I believe he could eat someone, I really do think so."
Well, until you have more solid evidence, maybe you should just keep away from him in general. I mean anyone who even looks like he might eat children you probably don't want to see too much of anyway, just from an aesthetic point of view, eh? Unless you like that sort of thing.
"What's asthetic?"
Aesthetic? I suppose you could call it the science of being attractive. You usually hear people say things like "aesthetically pleasing" or "an aesthetic nightmare" and so on.
"But I thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder?"
Some people think so. Hey, you said you had classes tomorrow! Sleep! SLEEP! There won't be any knives or cats, but it may be pretty difficult, you'll want to be awake.
"Of course, I bet it wasn't hard for you."
Not very, no. But you'll get through all right. Take me to class, if you like—you can show me to your Harry Snape, and if you need help with any questions I can give you pointers.
Ginny wavered for a minute. Somehow that didn't seem quite honest. "No cheating! No giving me the answers or anything!"
Of course not. I'll just help. What do you say?
"I think that would help a lot. It'd be like going in with a friend. Or, something."
Nothing like a friend when you're frightened, eh?
"Definitely. Goodnight, Tom."
Goodnight, Ginny.
Ginny closed the book and slipped it under her pillow. It might have been her imagination, but her pillow felt warmer with that little book under it.
"YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT…"
Harry stared in half-amused bewilderment at the screaming envelope as it made mad little circles in the air. Mrs Weasley's voice, definitely—no one else could carry like that. It seemed to go on and on, neither stopping nor running out of breath, Ron getting redder and redder and sinking further and further under the table. Finally the letter shut with a snap and burnt itself to a crisp, leaving a smoking ash and a ringing silence. Gradually a few people laughed and then people went back to their normal breakfast activities.
Well, most people did.
"Howler, Weasley?" said Malfoy, striding over just as Ron had crammed most of a slice of bread and jam into his mouth and couldn't give any snappy retort. "Might have guessed your family would be so crude. My father sent me a very stern letter, but a Howler? In front of everyone? Really…"
So it begins, thought Harry. The cycle of excuses for coming over. As long as there are Slytherins looking, he'll just bluster, but as soon as he's in the clear he'll sit down…
"And an enquiry at work? Well, that'll teach him to enchant Muggle things like that I suppose…" He perched on the edge of the bench and leaned his elbows forward on the table. "My father says it wasn't entirely my fault, though of course I ought to have known better than to spend time with such a useless blood-traitor, whose father works with Muggles…"
"Serwerhee?" demanded Ron.
"I beg your pardon?"
"So why are you here?" Harry translated.
"Ifer dunwaspertwis, dun!"
"If you don't want to spend time with us, don't," said Harry. "I think that's what he said."
"Believe me, Weasley, if you didn't insist on hanging on to Snapey like a crup's tail, I wouldn't have anything to do with you, Muggle-loving blood-traitor spawn that you are."
"The vast majority of domesticated crups don't have tails," said Hermione placidly. "Apple, Malfoy?"
"Oh, hello, Granger," said Draco, as if noticing her for the first time. "Thanks." Harry thought he even looked a little embarrassed at having been so disparaging about Muggles.
"What exactly did your dad say that was so stern?" Harry wanted to know.
Draco produced the letter lazily and flicked it over to him. It had the same seal clinging to it that had been on Harry's dinner invitation—the big M with the spears and snakes all around—but the writing was significantly less curly.
We have received word of your conduct. Your behaviour was unacceptable. Primary, consenting to ride in a Muggle apparatus; secondary, being in company with the blood-traitor Weasley; tertiary, damaging school property; quaternary, allowing yourself to be apprehended in these activities. We believe you have received punishment at the hands of your professors, who inform us that you will be given detention. However, your spending money will be curtailed pending good behaviour.
Then, under that, in a rather smaller, more intense hand,
Draco darling, I do hope you're not hurt. You must never ever ever ride in one of those filthy Muggle things ever ever again, they are dangerous and operate on explosives. Next time you need help, just send an owl, and Mummy will be right there. Good luck and do well and write and let us know you're all right.
Lots of love
Father and Mother
"Sixth person in a row to recommend the owl remedy," said Ron, sounding cross.
"Why didn't you think of it?" Hermione demanded. "Any of you?"
"Don't look at me! Weasley was the one determined to have something to tell his grandchildren," said Malfoy.
"I don't think the chances of your surviving to have grandchildren are very high, Ron," Hermione said.
"The world can stand a little less Weasley, if you ask me," muttered Draco.
"If he had died, you'd've died with him," Harry said.
"Would've been almost worth it, then," said Ron.
"I'd've died too," said Harry. "And then Hermione would have been frightfully lonely."
"Frightfully," said Draco. "It's not like she has any other friends. You two are the only ones mad enough to put up with her."
"I don't want any of you to die," said Hermione.
"We're fine, look," said Ron. "It was a brilliant adventure, and I don't get why you and Percy and Mum and everyone are so cross about it."
"You're going to keep saying that until the day they find your body at the bottom of a ravine."
"And you're going to keep saying rot like that until the day you die of boringness."
"And we are all," said Harry, glancing at the clock, "going to be late for Herbology. Except Malfoy, of course."