It's only been six months, right? I wanted to get at least one chapter done on something before I move back to the States, or else I'd likely end up using that as another excuse to put it off.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

'Hey there, boy,' Harry said gently, as he might to a docile looking stray dog. 'I haven't seen you before. Are you all alone out here?'

Inwardly, he was surprised Sirius had allowed himself to be seen. Perhaps he simply couldn't help himself. Indeed, Sirius himself looked rather shocked as well, a somewhat stunned look lingering on his canine face before he recoverd himself and whined piteously. Of course he would want to appear as non-threatening as possible.

'Are you hungry?' Harry asked, very slowly approaching the black dog. He wasn't the least bit afraid, of course, but anyone watching – Sirius included – would expect him to at the very least be cautious. 'I don't have any food on me,' he said apologetically. 'I'd give it to you if I did. You look like you've been out here a while.'

The dog whined again.

'I come out here every day, though,' he said, still slowly approaching. 'I'll make sure to bring something with me tomorrow in case I see you again. Would you like that?' Harry had to keep reminding himself to pretend he was talking to a dog. An unfamiliar dog, at that. It was difficult, when all he wanted to do was run forward and throw his arms around his godfather's shaggy four-legged frame.

The dog barked, a very queit bark. Harry decided to stop stalling and closed the distance between them, reaching out with his hand to scratch the dog's head. When Sirius did not resist or move away, he crouched down and began scratching with both hands, ruffling the dog's fur and scratching behind the ears. Sirius, for his part, seemed to be enjoying this. Harry imagined that after so long in Azkaban he was probably starved for touch of any kind. The thought almost got him choked up, but he maintained control of himself.

'If Aunt Petunia knew I was petting a stray, she'd have a heart attack,' he mused, continuing the charade of being an ordinary child making friends with a dog he'd found. 'That's what makes it fun, of course,' he added. Sirius gave another small bark and Harry smiled; he was sure that were Sirius human, that would have been a chuckle.

He stayed there, petting his godfather's animagus form, for several more minutes. He had completely forgotten what he'd originally come out to do. Then he heard a voice from his pocket.

Bugger.

Well, he was going to have to do some fast talking to maneuver through this.

'Ginny, I found a new friend!' he announced immediately upon activating the mirror, before she could say antying she shouldn't. He swung the mirror so that she could see Sirius.

'Oh, he's so cute!' she gushed, catching on right away. He'd known she would. Not even Hermione was quicker on the uptake than Ginny in situations that required...improvisation, the aurors would say. Ginny called it "bullshitting". 'Where did you find him?'

'Just outside the wood near the park off Mulberry Drive,' he said. 'I reckon he's a stray.'

'He's not dangerous, is he?' Ginny asked, feigning concern.

'Nah, he's friendly. He's been letting me pet him and everything.'

'He could have something, you know,' said Ginny, laying it on thick.

'He's fine, Ginny. A little skinny, but I suppose that's not too surprising.'

'Poor thing,' said Ginny. 'If you lived with anyone else, I'd suggest taking him home and feeding him.'

'I told him I'd be bring him some food tomorrow, though it's not as if he understands. Hopefully I'll see him again.'

'Do you want to reschedule our plans?' she asked. It was a call back to reality that he needed but didn't have to be happy with.

'No,' he said, sighing and standing up. 'It's time I get moving on. i'll call you back in a few minutes when I get there.' He waited for her to disappear from the mirror and then replaced it in his pocket.

'It's a good thing you're a dog or I'd have a lot of explaining to do right now,' he said to Sirius. 'But I suppose I don't have to worry about you telling anyone, do I?' He scratched behind Sirius's ear again and Sirius's head nuzzed his hand affectionately.

'It was nice meeting you, boy,' he said. 'I'll see you tomorrow if you're still here, and I'll bring food like I promised.' And, feeling like his feet were made of lead, he forced himself to turn away and begin walking back toward the suburban streets of Little Whinging.

It took several more minutes for him to find a sufficiently secluded spot he was reasonably sure was far enough away from Sirius, whom he had triple-checked was not following him. He was now in a narrow alleyway not unlike the one in which he and Dudley had once been attacked by dementors so long ago. If he didn't know for a fact he was several streets over, it could have been the very same one.

Glancing around one final time to make absolutely certain he was not being observed – making sure to remember to look up, which so many people neglected to do – he whipped his invisibility cloak out of his pocket, threw it over himself, and disapparated in one fluid motion before anyone had a chance to come upon him.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

He appeared at the now familiar curve in the lane overlooking Little Hangleton. Checking for bystanders and finding none, he removed his cloak and pulled out his mirror, staring into it and saying clearly, 'Ginny.'

Her face appeared at once.

'Hi!' she said brightly.

'I'm alone,' he said promptly. He could see the tension release from her expression.

'Oh, good,' she said. 'I mean, well…that was a bit of a shock.'

'We've been expecting him to come to Little Whinging,' Harry reminded her. 'I just never thought he'd show himself in broad daylight, or let me approach him like that.'

'Neither did I,' said Ginny. 'Are you doing all right?'

'Honestly?' said Harry. 'I'm not sure. I mean, it was great to see him again, but getting hit with it like that out of the blue...it was like Fred and Dobby again.' He was only now beginning to recognize and process the wave of emotion being presented with his living, breathing godfather had brought crashing over him.

'I know what you mean,' said Ginny. Of course she did. Fred had been her brother, after all; she'd probably felt this even more acutely than he had. 'But you'll see him again. Tomorrow, if he took your hint.'

'I made sure to repeat myself a few times. If he's as hungry as he was the time he met me, Ron, and Hermione in that cave outside Hogsmeade, he'll be there.'

'Does that mean we have to finish everything today?' she asked.

'No,' he said determinedly. 'We're already going to have to cut things short once Marge shows up. I'm not going to put the plan on hold just so I can hang around with Sirius, no matter how much I want to. There'll be plenty of time for that once he doesn't have to spend the entire time as a dog. I'm going to have to find another spot to disapparate from, though. If he's prowling the wood I can't do it from there, and I can't count on always being able to find an empty alley, either.'

'You'll think of something,' she said confidently. 'Should I come? We're already eating into our time.'

'Hang on, let me double check,' he said swiveling his head around, fully aware that if anyone were close by they would have already seen him talking to a girl in a mirror. As usual, the lane was deserted. 'All clear,' he announced. Her face disappeared from the mirror, and a second later there was a pop a few feet to his left and there she stood. Merlin, it was always so good to see her in person.

Knowing they were on the clock, Harry wasted no time showing her everything he'd discovered and worked on so far. He passed her the pair of dragon hide boots that were too small for him and was pleased to see that they fit her almost perfectly. The tiniest bit too big, but useable.

'I'll just wear thick socks,' she said.

Next he showed her the emergency escape rope he'd rigged up to pull him out of danger if necessary, and taught her how to conjure and charm one for herself. They surely looked a sight, standing in the summer heat wearing heavy boots and gloves, thick cloaks with hoods, and ropes tied around their waists as if they were about to go mountain climbing. It was very fortunate indeed that muggles so seldom used this lane. He supposed the muggle repelling charms had to reach out far enough to keep them from stumbling upon Voldemort's traps by accident, but surely they had to come this way to enter or leave the village? Or had they just grown accustomed to taking other, longer ways around?

Once Harry was satisfied that they were both decked out as safely as possible, they stepped through the gap in the hedge. The light was dimmer in here, but had a strangly comforting eerie green glow to it. It was almost like being in a faerie wood out of a story. Or maybe those were real; what did he know? Fifteen years in the magical world and he still occastionally found himself caught completely by surprise by something Ron and Ginny had grown up taking for granted.

'Have you got the sack ready?' he asked.

'Ready,' said Ginny, placing said sack on the ground and charming it so that it would stay open without support. They were going to be systematic about this. Ginny would cordon off a section of hedge to be burned. Harry would then cast a shield charm to protect them from salamanders and set the hedge on fire. When the little blighters came out, Ginny would freeze them and put them in the sack. They would then both magically prod the hedge to make sure they hadn't missed any, whereupon the impervioused sack would be tied up and put aside; a new one would be conjured and they would repeat the process until they ran out of hedge or ran out of time.

The first section went like clockwork. Mere seconds after the hedge went up in flames, four very hostile salamanders burst out. They could not get past Harry's shield, which ran from the ground to above the top of the hedgerows. Ginny froze them as planned, having to try for the last one three times before she hit it because it was darting around so much, and levitated them into the open sack. A thorough investigation of the charred remains revealed no further eggs, no hiding salamanders, and not a trace of devil's snare.

Harry had assumed that double-teaming like this would make the work go twice as fast. What he hadn't counted on was just how efficient it could be to be able to do multiple steps simultaneously rather than sequentially. By the time Ginny's two hour window was up, they had cleared more than half the infested hedges.

'I think we might be able to finish it tomorrow,' Ginny said, wiping sweat from her forehead. 'Though it's just as well we're stopping now anyway. I'm exhausted.' The last few salamanders had evaded her freezing charms for a disturbingly long period of time.

'So am I,' said Harry, whose shield charm had very nearly given out before she caught them all. 'D'you expect you'll be able to get away again tomorrow?'

'Probably,' she said. 'I'll let you know if I can't, of course. It's the next day that's most important, after all. As long as we're meeting up in the middle of the afternoon like this, I want to go on a date for your birthday.'

'What?' Harry asked, taken aback.

'Harry,' she said patiently, 'if I have two hours a day to spend with my boyfriend, it's not always going to be about work. Especially on special occasions.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'I suppose that makes sense. I hadn't really thought about it.'

She exaggerated a sigh. 'I know you haven't. You're so single-minded sometimes Harry, honestly.'

'Sorry,' he said, feeling rather stupid.

'Don't apologize; it's just who you are. I knew that when I signed on.'

'Well we did sort of breeze past it in the interview phase,' he quipped.

'Couldn't be helped. You were so impressed with my CV you couldn't wait to take me on.'

Harry laughed in spite of himself. 'I love you,' was all he could say. Then he remembered the time. 'But we really do need to go. If you're missed, it's two years of work up in smoke.'

They quickly but carefully extricated themselves from the hedge, making sure to listen at the gap before emerging out onto the lane in case anyone was passing by. As always, nobody was. They said their goodbyes swiftly, and then Ginny disapparated. Harry made sure to don his invisibility cloak before doing the same. Though now he faced a problem. He couldn't return to the wood in case Sirius was there. He would certainly recognize the sound of someone apparating and would come to investigate. He couldn't return to the alley he'd departed from – or any other alley – because there was no guarantee there wouldn't be anyone around.

The solution he came to was perhaps counterintuitive. He disapparated onto the roof of a house next to the alley. He couldn't do anything about the sound – his was never very loud anyway and he was hoping anyone who did happen to hear it wouldn't pay it any mind – but this way there was zero risk of bumping into someone accidentally. He would then have a vantage point to ensure the alleyway was empty – or to wait until it was – and then could apparate again down to the ground.

It was not ideal, but it got the job done. As it happened, there was an old woman walking her dog through the alley the moment he appeared on the roof. He could very well have landed right in front of them. Invisible or not, they would definteily have noticed. As it was, the dog looked briefly around at the sound, but the woman appeared not to notice anything at all.

He waited patiently for them to leave, watched them walk away down the street for a bit, and then popped down to the alley himself. Removing his invisibility cloak and stashing it once again in his pocket, he began the walk back to Privet Drive, his mind whirring with everything that had happened that day and everything that was to come in the days ahead.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The following morning, Harry sneaked into the kitchen while the Dursleys were occupied. Uncle Vernon had gone to work, Aunt Petunia was puttering in the garden, and Dudley was, as usual, on his computer.

Fully aware that Aunt Petunia could come in at any time, Harry quickly opened the fridge and swiped several breakfast sausages, a leftover chicken leg, and a kipper. He didn't worry about them being missed; he knew Dudley and Uncle Vernon didn't keep track of what was in the refrigerator or how much of it there was, and while Aunt Petunia most definitely did, if she noticed anything missing she would simply assume Dudley had eaten it. A rather safe assumption, generally.

He placed all these food items into another conjured sack and hurried out of the house. It was never safe to assume he wouldn't spontaneously be put to work on something if his aunt caught him loitering about the house.

He arrived at the wood much earlier than he normally would have done; he wanted to have some time to spend with Sirius before he and Ginny had to get back to work on the hedges.

It didn't take long for Sirius to make his presence known once Harry returned to the wood; he'd been wondering if he might have had to make a show of whistling or calling for the dog but no, Sirius turned up almost as soon as Harry was fully ensconced within the trees.

'Hello again,' said Harry in his best "child talking to a dog" voice. 'I brought you some food like I promised. Are you hungry?' He pulled out a sausage and held it in front of him. Sirius approached warily, then snatched the sausage away and ate it enthusiastically.

'There's plenty more,' Harry said, pulling out the rest of the food. 'I'd better pull the chicken off for you, though. I wouldn't want you to choke.'

Harry sat there for a good hour having a one sided conversation with his godfather about nothing in particular, intermittantly feeding him another piece of meat or scratching him behind the ears.

Eventually, extremely reluctantly, Harry admitted to himself that it was time to go. He stood up slowly, dusting his hands off on his jeans.

'It's going to be really hard for me to get away starting tomorrow,' he said, 'so I don't know if I'll see you again, but it's been nice having someone to talk to around here for a change.' That last part wasn't even a lie.

'Take care of yourself, okay, boy?' hs said, giving the big black dog one last scratch. 'Keep out of trouble and watch out for dog catchers.'

And dementors, he added in his head.

Knowing that if he didn't leave then that he wouldn't leave at all, Harry wrenched himself away from Sirius and began the trek back to Number Four. He'd had an idea the night before on solving his transportation issues.

Harry made no effort to conceal his return to the house. He didn't care if the Dursleys saw him return or not, though they paid him so little attention most of the time that he doubted they noticed his comings and goings at all unless he shouted that he was leaving or returning home. Even then, it was a coin flip whether or not they were listening. He'd always operated under the idea that it was best not to take chances, but an easier method had recently occurred to him.

Once ensconced in his room, Harry magically locked the door and cast a silencing charm. No one outside the room would hear anything going on within it. Then he cast a very localized Muggle-repelling charm on the door. He'd gotten very good at those during his year on the run from Voldemort.

Voldemort, ironically, was the one who had given him the idea. His repeated experiences of apparating to and from the lane outsite Little Hangleton without ever meeting a soul had reminded him of just how effective these types of charms could be when you wanted to hide something in plain sight. From Muggles, anyway. And given that his relatives were all Muggles, it worked perfectly. If any of them for whatever reason decided they needed to talk to Harry while he was out, the silence from his room would hopefullly serve to convince them that he was either asleep or out of the house. If they went to bang on his door to check – something he fully expected them to do especially if they thought he was only sleeping – they would suddenly remember something very important they had to do somewhere else the moment they approached his door to try. It wouldn't work forever – exceptionally suspicious or sufficiently determined Muggles had been known to overcome all but the most powerful charms after prolonged exposure – but for the few hours a day he needed to be away it would be perfect.

He and Ginny met on the lane as before and commenced their work where they had left off the previous day. They'd already developed a rhythm, so it wasn't difficult to slide back into it. Well before their two hours were up, they had successfully cleared the entire hedge of all traces of devil's snare and salamanders. It was extremely tempting not to just march across the gnarled, overgrown garden to the dilapitated shack, but neither of them were stupid.

'I'm going to test for dark magic again,' Harry said to Ginny. 'What ever happens – if I lose conciousness, sink into the ground, disappear, if I burst into flames, if I suddenly turn around and tell you it's all clear and you can come on in – you have to promise me you won't set foot beyond this hedge.'

'Harry - '

'No, I'm serious,' Harry interrupted firmly. 'You won't be able to help me if you get caught in the same trap as me, and as I'm trained to fight the dark arts and you're not, that's likely to happen. Use my tether to get me out, cast any spells you think will help from here, or run and get help, but promise me you will not enter this garden under any circumstances.'

She looked at him defiantly for a moment – Harry was reminded of Dumbledore extracting a similar promise from himself on their ill-fated journey to the cave – but finally she nodded.

'I promise,' she said.

'Good,' said Harry. 'Not that I expect trouble – we're probably past the worst of it until we get to the horcrux itself – but best to play it safe.'

Casting his first detection charm before moving, Harry tentatively stepped forward.

Nothing happened.

Keeping his guard up and his senses on full alert, he slowly but surely crept toward the shack, which was barely still standing and didn't even deserve the name anymore. It more resembled an old, neglected pile of stones.

To his great surprise (and consternation), he made it all the way to the structure without incident. The door, of all things, remained intact, though any snakes that had once been attached to it had long since rotted away.

Still wearing his dragonhide gloves, Harry reached out and tested the handle. It didn't trigger any traps, but it didn't budge, either. He thought he could probably force entry through any number of other openings, but again the cave reared up in his memory. Voldemort liked forcing people to take actions that would trap them. It was likely that any booby traps would be laid on the rest of the house to be triggered once any would-be intruders realized they couldn't get through the door.

Sure he was right, but wanting to try everything anyway, he attempted every unlocking and dispelling charm he knew on the door. They had no effect. If he wanted to get in there, he would have to do it Voldemort's way, and deal with whatever hazards that entailed.

Something prodded at his brain.

Voldemort's way. He had to have a way to get in there himself without needing to disarm all of his own traps. In the cave he had simply had someone else drink the potion for him, but here…

Harry focused on the door, remembering what it had once looked like with Morfin's snake nailed to it. He imagined that snake was still there now, gazing back at him.

'Open,' he said, and once again heard the distinctive hiss that let him know he had successfully spoken parseltongue.

The door swung open.

'Harry...' Ginny called nervously.

'Stay there,' he called back, hold his hand out behind him. 'I think I may have bypassed the last of the traps, but we can't be certain. If I'm not back out in one minute, yank me out.'

He didn't think that would be enough time to retrieve the horcrux or break any curses he found, but it was long enough for his life to be in danger if he got caught in something and Ginny could no longer see him.

The place seemed even smaller than he remembered, falling in on itself as it was, and infinitely filthier. Somehow, even though it had been abandoned for so long and essentially reclaimed by the surrounding plant life, the filth still seemed unnatural somehow. The dim light inside seemed more pronounced than it should have, and he felt almost as if an invisible weight had descended on him.

He remembered Dumbledore saying that the ring had been buried beneath the floorboards. He also dimly remembered a vision of Voldemort himself coming to check on it. Another detection spell gave him a strong resonance from below, but nothing from the boards themselves. He waved his wand and ripped them up.

He stepped closer to the hole he had made and peered into it, but before he could get a good look, he was jerked backward by the rope tied round his waist. Flying backward through the garden, he crashed to the ground at Ginny's feet at the edge of the garden.

'I know I told you to do that, but ouch,' he grumbled, getting to his feet and rubbing both the place where the rope had dug into his front, and the place on his backside where he'd landed.

'If you had let me go in with you,' she said, leaving the statement hanging.

'You probably could now, anyway,' he said. 'There doesn't seem to be any dark magic in there except around the horcrux itself, and I'd just as soon have a witness as I try to take it in case anything happens.'

She cocked her eyebrow at him.

'"Not under any circumstances," you said. How do I know you haven't been enchanted and are just trying to lure me back in there?'

Harry grinned proudly.

'That's my girl,' he said. 'Do you remember the spell I taught you to test for enchantments?' He'd taught it to her the moment he'd learned it and made sure she had it down cold. Thankfully, she had never had cause to use it.

'That was ages ago,' she reminded him.

'I know that; that's why I'm asking. Do you remember it or not?'

'I think so,' she said. 'Give me a second.' She absently moved her wand and muttered something under her breath, recalling the spell. It would reveal (though not remove) most known enchantments. It wouldn't reveal the Imperius Curse, unfortunately – there still was no spell for that – but as that had to be administered in person, there was little risk of Harry being under it here.

'Okay, I've got it,' she said finally. 'Hold still.' He did so, and she cast the charm on him. Of course, it came back negative.

'So I suppose I can trust you now,' she said.

'Still, good on you for checking,' he told her. 'Now be careful. Just because I didn't trip anything going over there the first time doesn't mean there isn't anything to trip.'

Together, they made their way back across the garden and into the shack. The hole Harry had made in the floorboards was still there, but there was nothing but dirt underneath.

'Stand back,' he told her. 'I'm going to have to dig to get it out, and there's some kind of curse on it. We know what it did to Dumbledore, but I'm not going to assume that's all of it. There's probably something else that's going to make me want to put it on, or do something similarly stupid, which will activate the deadly part. I don't know what will trigger it, either. It could be proximiy, or it could be just looking at it, so I need you to stay over there. You're my lifeine again. Even if you have to stun me, do not let me put that ring on, or even touch it with my bare skin.' He remembered all too vividly what had happened to Katie Bell upon touching that cursed necklace of Malfoy's.

'Got it,' she said, squaring her shoulders but staying back by the door.

'Got your fang?' he asked, pulling his out and placing it on the ground next to him. They had come prepared in cased they managed to reach the horcrux today.

'Yeah,' she said, pulling hers out too and holding it in her other hand.

'Good. Be ready.'

He first tried making a hole in the dirt with his wand, but didn't really expect it to work. When it didn't, he got down on his knees and started digging, dragonhide gloves still on. He hadn't been at it long when he felt something. It could have just been a rock, but Voldemort would have been very deliberate about what he'd buried here. He felt around and sure enough, he could feel the shape of a small box. Gingerly, he extracted it and set it down on the freshly churned earth. It was ornate and plated with gold, and sealed tight.

'Did you find it?' Ginny asked from the door.

'Unless he's hidden something else under here in a fancy gold box, yeah,' said Harry, examining the box carefully.

'Is there a curse on it?'

'Almost definitely,' said Harry. 'But I bet we can get around it without havingt to try to break it.'

He once again issued the command to open in parseltongue, and an unseen latch on the box clicked, and the lid opened itself, revealing the ring with its large inset stone – itself a treasure Voldemort had never known of – and Harry reached for his fang. He wanted to make this as quick as possible.

Wishing he could stab it while it was still in the box but wanting to be absolutely sure he didn't miss, he readied the fang and pulled the ring out from its niche. It was just as he remembered it, with the symbol of the Deathly Hallows ethced onto the face of the stone. The large crack from Gryffindor's sword not there, he could clearly make out the triangle, circle, and line that had transfixed so many like Mr Lovegood for so long.

Another memory came back to him unbidden, of standing with his parents and Sirius and Remus in the Forbidden Forest. It was the only time he'd ever seen them all together outside of old photographs – the only time he'd every spoken with his parents. His real parents, not the shadows that had emerged in the graveyard of this very village.

What wouldn't he give to see them again? Talk to them again? He knew it wasn't right, that the only reason the Stone had worked for him properly was because he had used it for unselfish reasons, but that didn't stop the longing.

He understood now, he thought, the temptation Dumbledore must have been faced with, to see his sister and parents again after so long. He thought he heard Ginny's voice saying something, but couldn't let himself get distracted. This was important.

He raised his hand and -

'OUCH!' something very painful struck him in the shoulder. He looked over and saw Ginny looking terrified, ashen-faced and with her wand trained on him. He looked back and to his horror realized that he had not only managed to remove one of his gloves, but was halfway to putting the ring on his now exposed hand.

Acting on instinct before he could be snared again, he dropped the ring, snatched up the fang from where he'd obviously dropped it without realizing, and slammed it into the horcrox. A hissing, crackling sound emanated from it – along with an echo of a scream from what seemed a mile away – but lasted only a second before all went silent again. The ring had melted partway through. The horcrux was no more.

'Are you all right?' Ginny asked, still sounding frightened, and keeping her wand on him.

'I'm all right, yeah. You definitely saved me that time. What happened?'

'Well, you picked up your fang and looked like you were ready to stab something with it,' she said, 'then you pulled that ring out of the hole and just sort of looked at it for a second. I asked you what was wrong and you didn't answer so I got scared. I tried shouting, a flare charm, stinging hexes, nothing worked. You'd put your fang down and taken your glove off, so I hit you with the strongest stinging hex I could cast. If it didn't work I was going to stun you.'

'Thanks,' Harry said shakily, a little scared in spite of himself even though it was over now. To have been caught so easily and without even realizing it! Fortunatley this was the only horcrux where he didn't know what to expect. The others should be easier. In theory.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The following morning Harry awoke to a bevy of owls with birthday greetings. Hermione, in France with her parents, sent him the broomstick servicing kit he still owned in his own timeline. Ron and Ginny had each sent him some of their mother's cooking. In the absence of the galleon draw prize money that could have financed a trip to Egypt, the family would be going on a short holiday to the seaside in early August, after which time they planned to ask Harry to stay with them for the remainder of the summer, or so Ron and Ginny both said. Ginny expected it wouldn't take much to bring their parents round to the idea, and Harry, amused and fond, privately agreed.

Hargrid of course sent him his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters; thankfully this time at least Harry knew how to subdue it. He stroked its spine immediately upon unwrapping it and then bound it in some conjured ropes for good measure.

The first unexpected surprise came in the form of another gift, this time from Natalie. She'd sent him a very nice polished wooden case for his glasses, which was charmed to clean them and mend any scratches every time he shut them up in it.

It won't repair cracks though, so don't be careless, she added in her letter. As if he couldn't just cast reparo if it came to that.

Stephen also sent him a gift: his own chessboard, which he was surprised to find himself delighted with. He'd only ever had his own pieces and had always needed to use someone else's (usually Ron's) board. This one was very fine indeed, made from squares of white and black marble magically fused together into a single solid piece.

Harry was touched. He'd never been given a birthday present during his school years by anyone other than the Weasleys, Hermione, Hagrid, or Sirius. It was nice to think that, if he and Ginny really were trapped here forever, at least some things could be for the better.

His booklist arrived as well, along with the permission form for visiting Hogsmeade. Harry sighed looking at the form and tucked it away. Why couldn't anything ever just be easy?

At breakfast, Harry received confirmation of the news he'd known was coming.

'I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia,' said Uncle Vernon after draining his teacup. 'Marge's train gets in at ten.'

'Happy birthday to me,' Harry muttered. Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed and shot toward him.

'That's enough cheek from you, boy,' he said dangerously. 'And while we're on the subject, we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her.'

'Is that right?' Harry asked, unbothered. This of course served to anget his uncle further.

'Firstly,' Uncle Vernon growled, visibly trying to contain his temper, 'you're to keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge.'

'Easy enough, since I've no desire to speak to her in the first place,' said Harry, taking a bite of eggs and not even looking at his uncle.

Uncle Vernon drew in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly before continuing.

'Secondly,' he went on, 'as Marge doesnt' know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any – any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?'

'I will if she does,' said Harry calmly.

'And thirdly,' said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's response, 'we've told Marge you attend St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.'

'Well that doesn't make any sense,' said Harry, putting down his fork at last.

'What's that?' roared Uncle Vernon.

'You say I'm to behave myself, but then you say she thinks I go to a school for "incurably criminal boys". How's she supposed to believe that if I don't act like a delinquent?'

'Now you see here, boy,' shouted Uncle Vernon, swelling up like a bullfrog, but Harry interrupted him, still speaking calmly and reasonably.

'I think it's probably for the best if I'm just not around while she's here,' he said. 'I already spend most of my time out of the house anyway. Why make thinks more complicated than they need to be?'

'Don't be stupid,' snapped Aunt Petunia, who thus far had remained outside the conversation. 'You know perfectly well that you'll still be here in the evenings and at mealtimes; you know what your uncle is talking about.'

'Nothing I can do about mealtimes,' Harry conceded, 'but I can just spend the rest of the time in my room. She doesn't need to be in there, and I'd just as soon avoid her as much as possible.'

Uncle Vernon clenched his teeth and appeared to be chewing on his own tongue for a few moments, but finally said, 'As long as you keep to the story, boy. If not, there'll be trouble.'

'Fine, fine,' said Harry, cleaning up his breakfast dishes. 'It's not like I care where she thinks I go to school.'

Uncle Vernon seemed to accept this for obedience, because he then bade farewell to Petunia and headed out the door to collect his sister (Dudley was more interested in watchign television than in going along).

Harry, meanwhile, made a show of leaving the house before donning his invisibility cloak, doubling back, and sneaking up into his room, where he cast the all-important locking, silencing, and muggle repelling charms. He then disapparated to the lane leading to Little Hangleton where he was met by Ginny moments later (they had learned it was a reliably safe place to apparate to). She climbed under his cloak with him and they then apparated again to the outskirts of Wells. It was a city they knew well; the house they lived in together as a couple was there – it was close enough to Ginny's family without being too close, and as it was a house they were merely renting together, the "impropriety" seemed to bother Mrs Weasley less than if they'd lived in one of the houses Harry owned, such as Number Twelve Grimmauld Place or Ivy Hall.

Not that she didn't still disapprove, but she was less vehement about it.

Ginny hugged him tightly once they arrived. 'Happy birthday!' she exclaimed.

'Thanks,' he said, feeling lighter than he had in a while. 'What did you have planned?'

'I thought we could go see a film,' she said. 'We used to love doing that and we haven't gone in ages.'

'For understandable reasons,' said Harry.

'Sure, but now we can get out on our own, what's stopping us?'

'All right, let's go,' said Harry, looking forward to the idea. Ginny had been addicted to seeing films since the first summer after the war, when they'd gone on their first proper date outside of school. It was almost as novel for Harry – who'd never been allowed to watch much of anything growing up with the Dursleys – as it was for her, and he especially liked it since they were by necessity in the muggle world, where no one would recognize either of them.

They discovered a cinema they'd never been to before – a notice posted saying it was closing soon – and picked the first film they'd be able to see. It was about dinosaurs, and even though Ginny was by now familiar with the concept of visual effects (even if she didn't understand how they were achieved without magic), she had a hard time believing that the dinosaurs in the film weren't real somehow. So did Harry, for that matter. They were extremely lifelike. He'd seen films from a decade in the future which didn't look that good.

They didn't have time to eat, unfortunately. They were already pushing their luck, having gone well over their usual two hours, so they hugged and went their separate ways. Ginny went home, and Harry went to Diagon Alley. He had one more thing to do before returning to Number Four.

His destination was the Magical Menagerie. Ginny had given him the idea; he hadn't even known such products existed.

He had to explain to the shopkeeper what he wanted, and also to make sure it was safe. Such things were usually designed for magical creatures, like crups.

'These'll do,' said the shopkeeper. 'They work a bit stronger on ordinary dogs, but it won't hurt 'em none. The effects'll start to wear off after about six hours or so; if they don't, it means you don't need 'em anymore and should stop. They can get addicted otherwise.'

'Is the effect after that permanent?' Harry asked.

'Supposed to be,' said the shopkeeper. 'There's no guarantee or anything, but I've never heard of a case of it reverting. These are great for training guard dogs and such. And you don't have to worry about someone else trying to undo it later with their own, neither.'

'That's good to know,' Harry said, though in his case that was definitely not a concern. 'How long does it usually take?'

'If you do it right, every six hours they're awake, shouldn't be more than a few days. Could take longer if you miss one or if it's a particularly stubborn dog.'

'Great!' said Harry. 'I'll take them.' He handed over a galleon and six sickles and left the shop with a full bag of Gnawsages dog treats. "Tame any animal, no matter how feral!"

He ate lunch in Diagon Alley so he wouldn't have to do it at home. He was tempted to buys his school supplies too and have it over with, but he knew he'd rather go with the Weasleys, and it would raise questions (not to mention be less fun) if he already had everything. Finally, he apparated back to his room and, rather than put his plan into motion right away, opted to stay clear of Aunt Marge for as long as possible. It was already well into the afternoon so he'd only have to hide out for a few more hours until dinner.

He quickly came to regret his decision not to buy his schoolbooks, however. There wasn't much to do locked away in his room except read, and he didn't have anything there that he hadn't read before. He eventually pulled out the Half-Blood Prince's potions book and started flipping through it, trying to see if he could understand the theory behind any of Snape's old annotations. He hadn't really put that much thought into it before; he'd only been interested in the potential for better marks. Unfortunately, in most instances Snape had recorded only his conclusions and not bothered to write down his thought process (no doubt he had considered such concepts intuitive, which irked Harry to no end), but there were a few nuggets of insight here and there. Harry started to make notes on things he'd have to look up later once he had access to the Hogwarts library again.

At last the time came when he couldn't put it off any longer. He could smell dinner cooking down below, and knew that it would be worse if Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia had to call him down. Of course there was always the possibility that they wouldn't, in which case he simply wouldn't get anything to eat at all.

He descended the staircase, and heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge talking loudly in the sitting room. Aunt Petunia spotted him first.

'There you are! Get in here and get the table ready for dinner!' she snapped. Harry acquiesced without grumbling. Any excuse not to have to talk to Marge.

When Aunt Petunia called everyone for dinner, Dudley somehow managed to beat both his father and aunt to the table from wherever he'd been. Marge's eyes found Harry at once.

'So!' she barked. 'Still here, are you?'

'Yes,' said Harry, fighting the urge to say something more sarcastic. Merlin, how he loathed this woman.

'Don't you say "yes" in that ungrateful tone,' Marge growled. 'It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep.'

'That's very kind of you,' said Harry earnestly, taking his seat, thinking it would indeed be a kindness to spare him eleven years of being brought up by one of the most unpleasant people he'd ever met.

Marge looked at him darkly. 'Don't you give me that cheek!' she boomed. 'I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you. Where is it that you said you send him, Vernon?'

'St Brutus's,' said Uncle Vernon. 'It's a first-rate insiitution for hopeless cases.'

'I see,' said Aunt Marge. 'Do they use the cane at St Brutus's, boy?' she barked at Harry.

'I'm pretty sure that's illegal,' said Harry, who didn't actually know. He seemed to recall Hermione saying something once about corporal punishment being prohibited in schools that received state funding, but as he didn't know if this was the case for St Brtutus's or not (or, indeed, if it was a real school at all and not just some place Uncle Vernon had made up), he couldn't be certain.

'What rubbish is this?' bellowed Aunt Marge. 'I tell you, this country is going to the dogs. Did you know about this, Vernon? When did we stop beating people who deserve it?'

'St Brutus's has...other methods,' said Uncle Vernon vaguely, shooting Harry a furious look.

'Clearly they're not working,' huffed Marge. 'Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear you approve of extreme measures in this boy's case. Whatever those may be that are allowed.' She said this last with great derision, making it clear what she thought of government oversight regarding student discipline.

As she and Uncle Vernon got into a heated discussion over the evils of the nanny state, Harry pulled a gnawsage out of his pocket and surruptitiously dangled it under the table. A few moments later, Ripper, unnoticed by anyone else at the table, came over and snatched it, eating it greedily. Afterward he licked Harry's hand and allowed Harry to scratch behind his ears.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

By the end of her week-long stay, Aunt Marge was absolutely incensed. She could not understand why her beloved Ripper had taken such a liking to Harry. She'd call him away, scold him, even tie him up when Harry was around in order to keep them apart, but Ripper always seemed to find a way to get his ears scratched or his belly rubbed. Yelling at Harry did nothing to stop this either, since he found the entire thing absolutely hilarious.

He'd run out of gnawsages after the third day, but as the shopekeeper had advised, the bulldog had fully taken to him by then. He was as docile and friendly toward Harry as he was toward Marge herself, which infuriated the woman to no end. This had the unintended side effect of Marge not being as keen as she once had been on keeping Harry in sight at all times in order to criticize him; that pleasure appeared overpowered by her desire to keep him away from her precious dog.

The end result was the least unpleasant week with Aunt Marge that Harry had ever experienced. And while he'd be very surrpised indeed if Uncle Vernon didn't suspect something, he couldn't outright accuse Harry of anything with his sister around.

It was, of course, too good to last. Her last night with them, Aunt Marge had somehow gotten around to ranting about "bad blood", much as she had right before Harry had accidentally blown her up, if memory served. He didn't recall the specifics, only that she had essentially compared his parents to dogs, and himself as a poorly bred runt. That seemed to be what she was getting at this time, too. Despite his resolution not to rise, he was finding it increasingly difficult and could not wait for her to leave the following morning.

'This Potter,' said Aunt Marge, pouring herself another brandy. 'You never told me what he did?'

'He was independently wealthy,' Harry put in quickly before Uncle Vernon (who now looked livid) could get a word in.

'Don't you go telling tales to me, you impudent child,' snarled Aunt Marge. 'Why, I expect he was nothing more than an unemployed layabout.'

'When you have that much money, you don't need a job if you don't want one,' said Harry, deliberately antagonizing her. He didn't actually know what either of his parents would have wanted to do for careers, only that they had devoted all their time to the Order of the Phoenix and so had not had time for any.

'That's enough out of you, you nasty little liar!' screamed Aunt Marge. 'Your worthless parents got themselves killed and left you to be a burden on your decent, hardworking relatives! You have a much better life here than you would have had with them, I daresay, yet you are nothing but an ungrateful, insolent little brat! Your aunt and uncle are saints for puutting up with you! Were it not for them, you'd be out on the streets or dead in a gutter!'

'You'll want to stop now,' said Harry dangerously, getting to his feet. His voice was low and cold, but Uncle Vernon must have seen the look in his eye for he loudly interjected before Marge could recover.

'That's enough! You, boy, bed!' he bellowed, pointing at first Harry and then the stairs for emphasis.

Harry almost defied them both, but knew that jinxing Aunt Marge on purpose would get him into a lot more trouble than doing it accidentally, even with the whole ministry worried about Sirius supposedly being out to kill him.

'Fine,' he acquiesced, not taking his eyes off Aunt Marge, who looked very much as if she wanted to start laying into him again. 'Come on, Ripper.' He slapped his leg and the dog came trotting over to him, alloing himself to be pat on the head. Harry made for the staircase, the bulldog following happily behind him.

'What are you doing?' screeched Aunt Marge. 'Where do you think you're going with my dog? Ripper! Come here!'

Maybe it was the tone of fury in her voice, or maybe that her speech was so slurred by this point that it was to hard to understand what she'd said, but Ripper did not turn back toward her. Gnawsages could tame dogs no matter how hostile, but they could not take the place of a true loyal bond with their rightful owner. But whatever the reason, Ripper accompanied Harry up to his room and they left Aunt Marge howling in incoherent rage behind them.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Well, I didn't finish before coming back to the states like I wanted (some of this was even written on the plane), but I managed to maintain my discipline and get it all out even after returning home. The end feels a little rushed to me, but when I tried to put more in, it felt bloated. The story's not really about Aunt Marge anyway, so I went with the lesser or two evils.

Leave a review and let me know what you thought! See you next time