Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Burrow

"Ron!" breathed Harry, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. "Ron, how did you - What the - ?"

Harry's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Ron was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in midair. Grinning at Harry from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers.

The aurors turned to look at Ron, Fred and George, while Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband.

"See," Steve said, looking at Toni. "The magicals have flying cars."

"Yeah Toni," Bucky said, "Where's our flying cars, Toni?"

Toni however, wasn't listening. She seemed to be frozen in place. Quickly though, she snapped out of it. Lunging for her notebook, she began to scribble notes down, almost as fast as she was thinking of them. Ignoring everyone around her.

"All right, Harry?" asked George.

"What's been going on?" said Ron. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles -"

"It wasn't me - and how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry," said Ron. "You know we're not supposed to do spells outside school -"

"You should talk," said Harry, staring at the floating car.

"Oh, this doesn't count," said Ron. "We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it.

Heads all around, whipped around towards Mr. Weasley.

"But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with -"

"I told you, I didn't - but it'll take too long to explain now - look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'll think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so -"

"Stop gibbering," said Ron. "We've come to take you home with us."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other from across the table.

"Fred and George?" Harry asked, a grin beginning to appear on his face.

"Fred and George." Ron nodded, grinning like an evil genius.

"Yes," Fred said, whilst examining his fingernails, "I suppose bringing us to bust Harry out of the Dursleys' house, was a genius idea."

"I agree." George nodded.

"Tie that around the bars," said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry.

"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead,"

Growls echoed around the hall.

"If they touch you, they're dead." Remus growled.

said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. The smile never disappears from his face.

"Don't worry," said Fred, "and stand back."

"Get in," Ron said.

"But all my Hogwarts stuff - my wand - my broomstick -"

"Where is it?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room -"

"No problem," said George from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, Harry -"

Fred and George climbed catlike through the window into Harry's room. You had to hand it to them, thought Harry, as George took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," said Fred, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow."

There was a small click and the door swung open.

"Could you two teach me how to do that?" Harry asked.

"Sure." Fred shrugged.

"It's not too hard to do." George nodded absently.

"Please don't." McGonagall pleaded.

"Aw, but Minnie," James said, a grin beginning to appear on his face.

"Please," McGonagall said, turning to Lily pleading, "Don't."

"We'll see." Lily said. "You know how he gets sometimes."

McGonagall's shoulders dropped.

"So - we'll get your things - you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron," whispered back as the twins disappeared into the dark landing.

Harry first ran over to Hedwig, and passed her out to Ron, before dashing around his room gathering up his stuff and passing it out the window too. Then he went to help Fred and George heave his trunk up the stairs. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.

At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through Harry's room to the open window. Fred climbed back into the car to pull with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window.

Uncle Vernon coughed again.

"A bit more," panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. "One good push -"

Harry and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car, Ron getting squashed against the opposite door with Hedwig. Causing Hedwig to let out a loud screech, right next to Ron's ear.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!" thundered Uncle Vernon.

"Time to go." Harry said matter of factly.

"Was that-" Hermione asked.

"After I got a laptop, I've started to get caught up on movies and tv shows." Harry shrugged. "I'm still pretty far behind."

George climbed into the car, and Harry had just put his foot on the window sill when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door - and it crashed open.

For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway: then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.

Ron, Fred, and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

"With the way that he's reacting, you would think that you're a dangerous convict." Daphne frowned lightly.

Harry snorted, "That's putting it lightly."

But the Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp - Harry was in the car - he'd slammed the door shut -

"Put your foot down, Fred!" yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.

Harry couldn't believe it - he was free. He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.

"See you next summer!" Harry yelled, grinning.

The hall roared with laughter.

"Please, Harry," Fred laughed, "Please continue to be funny."

"We need a good laugh." George said, his bout of laughter calming down.

"I'll see what I can do." Harry said, chuckling.

The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"So - what's the story, Harry?" said Ron impatiently. "What's been happening?"

Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and the near fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished.

"Very fishy," said Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy," agreed George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

He saw Fred and George look at each other.

"What, you think he was lying to me?" said Harry.

"Well," said Fred, "put it this way - house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," said Harry and Ron together, instantly.

"Draco Malfoy." Ron and Harry said together. Hermione looked as if she wanted to argue the point, but after a second of thought, she conceded it and nodded along.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "He hates me."

"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry. "Why?"

"I've heard Dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

Heads turned in Malfoy's direction, while Malfoy himself was glaring at the Weasleys. And the Weasley children, Hermione and Harry glared right back.

"And when You-Know-Who-"

"Oh, for crying out loud," said Harry, exasperated. "Just call him Voldemort."

Reactions around the hall were varied. While most people still reacted so very negatively at the mention of Voldemort's name, there were a few like Harry and Hermione who were used to the name. And then there were those sitting at the Avenger's table, who gave little to no reaction at all.

Ron and George flinched back in their seats, while Fred had flinched so hard, the steering wheel jerks to the right. The three look at Harry with varying looks of both horror and awe.

"What, it's his name isn't it?" asks Harry. "I don't see why we have to be so scared of a name of all things."

"Well said Mr. Potter." McGonagall said.

"Thank you ma'am." Harry said politely.

There was a moment of silence before Fred spoke again, "Anyway, when You-K-," Fred sighs at the pointed cough and look that Harry gives him, when he looked in the rear view mirror back at him. "Fine. When V-Voldemort," Fred shudders. "Disappeared," he said, craning around to look at Harry, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in Voldemort's inner circle."

Harry had heard rumors about Malfoy's family before, and they didn't surprise him at all. Malfoy made Dudley Dursley look like a kind, thoughtful, and sensitive boy.

"How dare he compare me to a Muggle. Again." Malfoy muttered angrily under his breath.

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf…." said Harry.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old Wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors, castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house…."

Harry was silent. Judging by the fact that Draco Malfoy usually had the best of everything, his family was rolling in wizard gold; he could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family servant to stop Harry from going back to Hogwarts also sounded exactly like the sort of thing Malfoy would do. Had Harry been stupid to take Dobby seriously?

"You think too highly of yourself, Potter." Malfoy sneered. "As if I would waste my time doing something like that."

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room…. You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.

"So, does your dad know you've got the car?" said Harry, guessing the answer.

"Er, no," said Ron, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."

"If you three so much as touch that car, so help me…" Mrs. Weasley threatened.

Ron, Fred and George looked down, none of them were brave enough to look their mother in the eye.

"What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?"

"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"The what?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare - Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?"

"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office - and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up -"

Warlock? Harry thought.

"Harry," McGonagall said, "Once again, it is just a title. Nothing else."

"Uh-huh." Harry said, not sounding convinced in the slightest.

"But your dad - this car -"

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

Harry was deep in thought. A magical who has a passion for Muggle technology?

"Mr. Weasley?' Harry said.

"Yes, Harry."

"If my book self doesn't ask you, would you be amenable to coming and working for me in my new company?" Harry asked.

Mr. Weasley sat in shock for a moment, before giving himself a shake. Looking at Harry he said, "We will have to talk about it more in depth, and I would need to talk to my wife first, before I agree to anything."

Harry gave him a nod, before turning back to the book, ignoring the looks that he was getting from many people around the hall.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much," said Ron, "but it's home."

"It's wonderful," said Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.

"I dare say that anywhere is better than Privet Drive." Hermione said, matter of factly.

"When you're right," Harry said, nodding, "you're right."

Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other three wheeled around.

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

"Ah," said Fred.

"Oh, dear," said George.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"So," she said.

"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to -"

All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy -"

"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job -"

It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away, terrified.

"I'm sorry dear." Mrs. Weasley said, frowning sadly at Harry. "I don't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." Harry said softly, giving Mrs. Weasley a small smile.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said, smiling. "Come in and have some breakfast."

"I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really" (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), "flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you -"

"Wow." Harry breathed, his eyes wide.

"Mum's like that." Ron shrugged.

"She's like that meme." Peter said, amazed.

"Kill you, by feeding you too many cinnamon rolls." Shuri nodded sagely.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Weasley asked, confused and slightly offended.

"It's a cultural reference." Bucky explained. "For example. Steve looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you. T'Challa looks like he could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll. Shuri looks like a cinnamon roll, and is actually a cinnamon roll. Natasha looks like she could kill you, and could actually kill you. Peter here is a cinnamon roll."

"And to quote Princess Shuri, you Mum, could kill people by feeding them too many cinnamon rolls." Fred said.

Mrs. Weasley frowned, her brow creased in concern.

"Mum, we love you." George said softly.

"It's probably a good thing that you get Harry to eat." Fred commented.

"He's practically a twig." Ron nodded along.

"Hey," Harry said, self conscious.

"They're right, Harry." Hermione said, "You are practically skin and bone."

"You need more meat on your bones." Ron said, giving Harry a look that made his arguments evaporate.

Harry looked down, ashamed and embarrassed. Primarily because, everyone knows about the Dursleys and what they have done to him. Even if it's only a tiny part of it that they are aware of. He never wanted anyone to know. But something tells him that they are only going to find out more about the horrors that he has lived through the past ten years, since his parents died. And there was nothing that he could do to stop it.

"Harry," Hermione said softly, as if she was speaking to a scared animal. "Harry, you know that we mean it with love right?

"We only want to help you." Daphne said in concern.

"Thanks guys." Harry smiled at his friends in thanks.

She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" Said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

Growls were heard around the hall, at the reminder of what the Dursleys do, have done, and will do if they didn't get Harry out of there.

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, red-headed figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprising short time.

Ginny peeked around her mother to catch a glance of Harry again. She was just taking in the sweeping of his hair, when he looked over at her. Ginny blushed bright red, and ducked down behind her mom.

Harry, for his part, sat there in shock, not knowing how to react.

"I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming -"

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject -"

The Weasley children all groaned.

"Not Lockhart, again." Ron said, slumping his head on the table.

"Lockhart?" James asked.

"What does that idiot have to do with de-gnoming a garden?" asked Sirius.

"He's been writing books about his so-called 'True Adventures'. If he did even half of the things he said he did in his books, I'll eat my favorite scarf." Remus said, in annoyance.

And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden -"

"Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know," Harry told Ron as they crossed the lawn.

"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods…."

There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up. "This is a gnome," he said grimly.

"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" squealed the gnome.

It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobbly, bald head exactly like a potato.

Harry, along with all of the non-magically raised people, looked at the book with a multitude of emotions. The two main things that most of them seemed to be feeling, was either disgust, or wonder.

"Brother, perhaps I can-" Shuri said.

"No!" T'Challa said forcefully.

Shuri slumped in her seat, pouting.

Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.

"This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, "It doesn't hurt them - you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes."

He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.

"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger, "Why you son of a -"

"Harry." Lily scolded.

"Language." Steve said in his Captain America voice. Which he was doing completely unintentionally.

"It's not like I actually said it." Harry mumbled.

and he had a hard job shaking it off - until -

"Wow, Harry - that must've been fifty feet…."

The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.

Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned…."

All those who knew Mundungus groaned. That little con man and thief is more of an annoyance and hindrance than anything else.

Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness…."

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" said George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it…. Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face…. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe -"

"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"

Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.

Mr. Weasley stared guiltily at his wife, as Mrs. Weasley stared back, her lips pursed, as though trying to decide how to punish him.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."

Mr. Weasley blinked.

"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth…. There's a loophole in the law, you'll find…. As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't -"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all the Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" said Mr. Weasley blankly. "Harry who?"

"Oh, come on Dad." Fred said, frowning, after a moment of silence.

"You remember Harry." George's brow creasing.

"Next you'll tell us you don't remember Ethan."

"Or Anny."

"Or Ryan."

With each name that was called, Mr. Weasley's face became paler and paler. He slowly turned to look at his wife, silently pleading with her to tell him it's not true. She looked back at him, and shook her head. Mr. Weasley slumped even further into his chair, as he breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

"You two," Mrs. Weasley scolded, "leave your poor father alone."

"If the two of you do something like that to your father, so help me…" Mrs. Weasley left her threat hanging. Allowing their imagination to fill in the gaps themselves.

Fred and George paled slightly, and gulped, as they thought about all the punishments that they could receive if they didn't heed their mother's warning. They quickly nodded their agreement.

Mr. Weasley snapped out of his trance when he spotted Harry, and jumped.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about -"

"Your sons flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Did it go all right?"

"Arthur!" said, almost sounding scandalized.

All the while at least half of the hall laughed.

"I - I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed…."

"You are totally whipped." Sirius chuckled quietly to Mr. Weasley.

"Have you met my wife?" he said, looking at Sirius and pointing at Molly.

"...Good point." Sirius then leaned back in his chair.

Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that all seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.

While many growled at the mention of Pettigrew, Ron on the other hand was green around the gills.

Up against one wall, was a bookcase filled with books.

Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasley's hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion. "It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning…."

But Harry, grinning widely, said, "This is the best house I've ever been in."

Ron's ears went pink.

Harry stepped over to the bookcase. "Hermione is going to be very pleased when she hears that you do read."

Ron chuckled, thinking back to that day in the library.

Harry and Ron grinned at each other, as they thought back on that day.

Harry picked up the most loved and read book on the bookcase. "Lord of the Rings?"

"It's a classic." Ron said, shrugging. "Surely you've read it."

It was Harry's turn to blush, as he shook his head.

"I wasn't allowed to read or watch anything that had magic in it, or anything that the Dursley's considered 'not normal'." Harry said, his eyes trained on the ground.

People growled at the small reminder of what the Dursleys have done.

As Harry's eyes were looking away from Ron, he didn't see the look on Ron's face. Anger. Not at Harry, or no. His anger was directed at those farm animals that call themselves the Dursleys.

Ron walked over to Harry, gently took the book from him, and said, "If you're going to read Lord of the Rings, you need to first read The Hobbit. Otherwise you're just going out of order."

Harry looked at the book that Ron had just handed him, turning it over to look at the book description on the back. Soon after, Harry was lost in the pages of Bilbo's adventure.

"Harry, you're going to love The Hobbit." Hermione said enthusiastically.

Hermione went to continue, but the sound of scraping wood against stone, and James shouting caused all talk to cease.

"James?" Lily said, concerned. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I just remembered!" James proclaimed.

"Remembered what?" Sirius asked.

"I just remembered where I heard that name before!"

"What name?" asked Remus.

"Stark." James said, a grin slowly taking over his face. "You Toni, you said that your father, horrible man that he was, that his name was Haward?"

"Yes…" Toni said, her left eyebrow creeping up her forehead.

"I just remembered that my dad knew your dad." James said, pleased as punch with himself.

Toni's expression soured, as she thought that it would be yet another person who thought that Howard was great.

"Yeah," James said, "and boy did my dad HATE Howard."

Whatever Toni was going to say. Whatever she thought that James was going to say, that, wasn't it.

"Why?" Harry asked. "What happened?"

"I'm glad you asked, Harry." James cleared his throat, as though he was a storyteller about to put on a grand tale. "Now granted, I don't remember that whole story. When Dad had told me, I wasn't fully listening to him. Anyway, during the second World War, they had a couple of mutual friends. Now these two friends were the only reason they hadn't killed each other. When their friends were around, they were civil towards each other. But when they weren't, they were at each other's throats. I don't quite remember what started their hatred for each other, it had something to do with my Mum.

"Anyway, after the war was over, Howard had come over to Potter Manor. He and my dad had this huge argument." James seemed to focus, trying to remember what they were arguing about. And for dramatic effect. "It was something about a captain? I don't know. Anyway, the argument got so bad, that my dad pulled out his wand, and turned Howard into a duck." James snickered at that last part. "Classic. Anyway, Dad left him like that for four days, until Mum came home. She said that when she came home, she found Dad sitting on the couch, looking unbearably smug, and a duck sitting on the coffee table, glaring daggers at Dad.

"When she finally got the story of what happened out of Dad, she demanded that he turn Howard back into his normal, arrogant, stuck up self, no matter how funny Howard as a duck was. That was the last day that my dad and Howard ever saw each other." James finished.

"Why was he left like that for four days? Where was gran?" Harry asked.

"Your grandmother had gone to Brazil for a week to help out her cousin down there." James explained.

"James, what was your dad's name?" Steve asked after a moment of silence.

"Charlus, Charlus Potter. Why?" James asked.

"I think that the two mutual friends that you were talking about are me and Bucky," said Steve. "I never knew that they actually hated each other."

"I guess that they were just very good at pretending to be friends whenever we were around." Bucky said, shaking his head.