As promised, this is the “second half” of Chapter 19 and the last chapter at the Weasleys’.
In the next chapter, we’re off to Hogwarts. Who will be on the train with Harry? Will Harry even be on the Express? Good questions. I hope you don’t expect me to answer them here.
The AU designation continues to be applicable: Griphook, one of Gringotts’ goblins, is a good guy here, as is Ragnok – no double crosses or shifty swords. I also provided some background information on the Potter family, which, to my knowledge, I made up, though somewhat similar histories and assets will be found in other stories.
An extra special thanks goes to cwarbeck, who not only did her usual brilliant beta work on the monster chapter I sent her (Chapters 19 and 20), but did the work while on vacation! Another amazing job by an amazing woman. Thanks, cel!
Likewise, a tip of the hat to Peter/MyGinevra, who let me play with a word he made up in his fabulous The Hogs Head. For those of you who are reading the story (and you all should be), I think you’ll recognize the word, even though the spelling has been changed. Yes, this note was briefly found - and incorrectly so - in the A/N for Chapter 19. I've since eliminated it from the Ch 19 notes. Thanks go to Collinda, whose comment prompted me to check.
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Saving Harry | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1040 Summary: What if JKR had never intended the Harry Potter series to be for children? How would Harry’s time at the Dursleys been written? This story focuses on the years Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs at number four Privet Drive, as well as his first appearance at Hogwarts. The treatment he receives during his decade there is not described in fairy tale terms. The boy who initially develops is not the Harry Potter we know. The story is liberally AU, with different personality traits, events, and relationships used to reflect the changes in this very different Harry and the environment in which he grew up. In the end, through the assistance of a certain redheaded young lady, Harry ultimately finds the life he should have had and rediscovers the qualities he always had inside of him. While I am not a psychologist or child development expert, the symptoms, actions, and behaviors portrayed reflect the realities of child abuse. Appropriate disclosures will be contained in the Author’s Notes above the chapter when warranted. Hitcount: Story Total: 340836; Chapter Total: 15312 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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As Harry waited in line to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, he went over his Floo ‘to do’ list. Elbows in, eyes closed until I slow down, look up when I’m ejected in order to keep my balance, have my arms out in case I stumble, quickly move out of the way so the next person doesn’t crash into me. Harry followed Ron once the fire cleared. With a green flame, he was on his way. Opening his eyes at the last second, Harry saw himself stumbling out of control towards an empty table directly across from the fireplace. His tirade at whoever would place a table in that spot was abruptly ended when two hands grabbed him and brought him to a mostly vertical stop. Ron grinned. “I guess that’s better than last time, eh Harry?” The boy started laughing, as Ron pulled him to the side of the Floo landing zone. “Any arrival when I’m even halfway standing is good.” In another minute, the family was assembled and moving out to the courtyard entrance to Diagon Alley. When the arch opened, Harry turned to Ginny. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of that first glimpse into the Alley.” Harry looked around with a growing smile on his face. “I never could have thought up a place like this when I lived with my relatives.” Ginny smiled and laced her fingers through his. “This is your world now, Harry, not that other place.” “Quite an improvement,” he agreed. Entering Gringotts, the group walked over to the shortest line. The Weasleys needed to withdraw money for the school supplies, while Harry needed to retrieve funds for general expenses, since he had already purchased his school supplies and robes. His second reason for being there wasn’t as clearly defined. All he knew was that Griphook, the goblin in charge of his account, had suggested they meet again before school started. “Mr Potter, welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank,” Griphook nodded his head at the young boy. In a much quieter voice, he added, “There is no need for you to wait in line. Follow me, please.” Harry looked at Mr Weasley and Ginny, shrugged his shoulders, and followed the goblin. “How are you today, Griphook?” The goblin stopped, after he turned to answer Harry. “May I enquire into who these other two people are?” “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Mr Weasley, my, ah, new guardian, and his daughter, Ginny Weasley.” Harry turned to the two Weasley family members, who looked decidedly uncomfortable. “This is Griphook, who manages my account here.” Mr Weasley extended his hand towards the goblin, who glanced quickly at Harry. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Griphook.” The account manager nodded his head a fraction. “Mr Weasley.” He shook the wizard’s hand. “Miss Weasley.” After the introductions, Griphook quickly proceeded through a pair of steel doors that were guarded by two of the largest goblins Harry had yet seen at the bank. After two more turns, the group entered a moderately sized office panelled in golden brown stained oak. Griphook immediately moved to the far side of a small conference table. Harry sat directly opposite him, with Mr Weasley and Ginny on either side of him. Griphook picked up a thick manila folder from a stack of five or six similarly sized folders. “Mr Potter, I would like to make my intentions clear so there are no misunderstandings concerning what I had intended to discuss with you this morning.” He looked pointedly at Mr Weasley, and Harry finally understood the reason behind Griphook’s cool attitude. “Griphook, thank you for protecting my family’s accounts. I should have let you know that Mr Weasley and Ginny were going to come with me. I apologize for not thinking of doing that.” Griphook arched an eyebrow but remained silent. “I trust both Mr Weasley and Ginny completely. Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of them.” Harry hoped he hadn’t insulted anyone as he waited for Griphook to reply. The goblin stared impassively at Harry for several seconds. Finally, he smiled, revealing a set of sharp teeth. “Mr Potter, I am continuously surprised by you. That is exactly what my concerns were. Mr Weasley is not well known to us, though we are aware of nothing negative pertaining to him or his family. Since your situation with our bank calls for discretion in all dealings, I am pleased that you were able to understand my concerns and alleviate them. Mr Weasley, I hope you understand my actions now.” Harry looked closely at Mr Weasley and was pleased to see that the man did not appear to be angry or insulted. “I do understand, Griphook, and I am pleased that you are protecting Harry’s interests. My family has always been treated professionally by your staff, despite being in a different bracket than Harry and his family. I hope our relationship can grow. As you seem to know already, Albus Dumbledore moved Harry into our care at the start of this summer, after he witnessed the, ah, situation at his relatives’ house. We consider Harry a part of our family now, but our interest is in Harry, not his accounts with you.” Griphook nodded. “Good. Mr Potter, may I assume that I or any other member of the bank’s staff can speak frankly in front of Mr and Miss Weasley?” “Yes, you can, Griphook.” The manager turned and pressed a button that sat behind the stack of folders by the goblin. A hidden door in a side wall opened and an older goblin walked in. Harry immediately knew he was a superior to Griphook, who had immediately stood when the senior goblin had entered. “Mr Potter, Mr and Miss Weasley, may I introduce the Director of Gringotts’ London Branch, Ragnok.” All three had risen while Griphook made the introductions. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Director Ragnok,” Harry said, again hoping he had used the correct title. He shook the goblin’s hand. “Just Ragnok is fine, Mr Potter. I have been looking forward to meeting you. It is not often we have circumstances like yours, so I wanted to make sure you were aware of everything within and affecting your accounts.” “Thank you, Ragnok. This is all new to me . . .” the Director nodded, making further explanation unnecessary. Ragnok turned to Mr Weasley. “As Griphook told you, we are aware your family is a minor account holder in the bank. The second you walked into the bank with Mr Potter we began a more in-depth investigation on you and your family. We have found nothing negative. Indeed, we have nothing but good reports concerning you. I’m sure you will find that a relief.” Mr Weasley turned to Harry, who was staring at the goblin. “It’s alright, lad. The Director didn’t mean to be insulting.” The wizard smiled coldly at the Director. “There’s nothing to be relieved about. I already knew you would find nothing negative on anyone in my family. I am pleased, though, that you seem to have Harry’s interests in mind the same as my family and I do.” He shook the goblin’s hand, while Ragnok said, “Then, we should be able to work together in Mr Potter’s behalf.” Ragnok sat down in a leather chair at the head of the table. “We have much to discuss today, Mr Potter . . . Mr Weasley. Shall we start?” When the Director first began to speak, after he and Mr Weasley had established their positions regarding Harry, the boy hoped to find out why he was being treated in such a special fashion by the goblins and Dumbledore, too, for that matter. Ragnok’s revelations went beyond anything he could have imagined. “Mr Potter, your family is one of the oldest in wizarding England. The fact that your family vault is Number 7 shows that they were one of the first families to bank at Gringotts and one of our largest depositors.” Ragnok’s eyebrows rose slightly at Harry’s obvious look of surprise. Ragnok continued his story of the Potters’ fortunes. “Through the centuries, the Potter family used their political and economic capital for the side of the Light. They were active in the Wizengamot, backed people in the Ministry who shared similar goals, and occasionally took office themselves. Of course, during this time, they were considered among the elite in wizarding society, and many of your family members created or financed a surprising number of highly successful businesses and other enterprises. “Unfortunately, at least partially due to the family’s prominence, many of your family were killed by Dark Lords and their sycophants. You are the sole remaining member of the House of Potter, I’m afraid . . .” After less than half an hour, Harry’s head was reeling, and Mr Weasley’s complexion had changed from its usual freckled cream-colour to a hot-house pink. “I take it you were unaware of your family’s history and financial position, Mr Potter,” Ragnok observed. “Perhaps you would be best served today if we provided an overview of your financial situation, what assets have accrued to you, and what we could do for you going forward.” He turned to Mr Weasley. “Do you agree that is the best course of action at this point?” Mr Weasley acknowledged Ragnok’s question with a nod. He took several calming breaths before responding. When he finally began to speak, it was to Harry, not Ragnok. “Lad, how are you feeling? This must be as shocking as when you learned you were a wizard and your place in the wizarding world.” Ginny leaned close to Harry and whispered, “You’ll get through this, too, Harry. That’s why Dad and I are here today. We’re here to help you.” She laughed softly. “When we get home, you can destroy Dumbledore — rocks, leaves, whatever you want.” Harry smiled faintly at his friend, while he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the moisture that had accumulated on his forehead. “I didn’t know any of this.” He looked from Ginny to Mr Weasley and finally Ragnok. “How much has Dumbledore kept from me? What else don’t I know?” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Ragnok, I need to know everything you can tell me.” The goblin looked shrewdly at Harry. “If you wish me to proceed,” Harry nodded empathically, “then I will bring only the most salient points to your attention so you can gain a clear overview of your current situation. Let’s dispense with political currency first. Your family has a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, which is yours to fill when you reach the age of majority, that is, seventeen years old . . .” Harry interrupted. “Does the seat remain unfilled until that time?” “Yes and no,” Ragnok answered. “Yes, in that you are not permitted to take your family seat. No, because you are allowed by wizarding law to select an adult to act as your proxy. It is a matter of simple paperwork, which one of our many lawyers can easily handle for you.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Is this law well known?” A cold smile appeared on Ragnok’s face. “It certainly is a law the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot would know.” The harsh sound of air being involuntarily sucked in caused Harry to look at Mr Weasley in concern. The man’s face flushed, and he coughed lightly to remove the obstruction. “Excuse me, Harry. Do you know who the Chief Warlock is?” the Weasley patriarch asked. Harry’s eyes turned cold. “Dumbledore. I read it on his Chocolate Frog card.” Griphook looked at Ragnok, who gave an imperceptive nod of his head. “Mr Potter, some families that have hereditary chairs in the Wizengamot have utilized proxies as a means of keeping informed of the proceedings and what the positions are of the other members. It can be a source of valuable information and even a tool of influence.” Harry tilted his head towards the goblin. “Thank you, Griphook.” He turned to Mr Weasley. “That would make it harder for Dumbledore to hide some things from me.” “Mr Potter,” Ragnok began, but Harry interrupted him politely. “May I ask a favour?” Ragnok nodded. “Please call me Harry.” Ragnok smiled. “I shall do that. Goblins customarily address a client using their last name. Only when permission is granted will we use the more informal given name. Now, if you would like, I can provide a summary of your current financial position.” “Since I wasn’t aware I had a family vault,” Harry said in a cold voice, “I would like to find out if there are other accounts I haven’t been told about.” “Since times were uncertain when your parents wrote their last will,” Harry briefly closed his eyes and Ginny traced her thumb over his hand, “they included a provision that required us to turn their investments in a timely fashion into savings accounts.” Ragnok looked at Harry. “They let us sell the investments so we could maximize profits. It took several years to accomplish their goals, but your account benefited by our timing on the sales.” Ragnok’s voice became the surprisingly soft, something Harry would not have expected from the goblin. “Your parents didn’t want the responsibility of managing to fall to you or a guardian not of your choosing. They wanted to ensure that the principal balance would remain intact. Griphook?” The account manager bared his teeth at Harry in that predatory smile some goblins used when they talked about investments, profits, and maximizing returns. “The funds from the sales of your financial assets were invested into savings accounts around the magical world in order to obtain the highest returns at the lowest acceptable risk. When you reach your seventeenth birthday, you can direct us to invest your funds more aggressively if you wish. Until then, your investments must remain in interest bearing accounts for your protection as a minor as required by law.” Griphook placed a piece of parchment in front of Harry, which contained row after row of numbers; both Mr Weasley and Ginny quickly moved their eyes away from the statement. “As you can see, despite the conservative approach we were legally required to follow, your principal has continued to outpace inflation, and in fact, achieve a more than reasonable rate of growth.” Even though Harry was dazed by this financial discussion and all the new terms, he still felt he understood the basics. “So, I’m better off now because of you?” Both Griphook and Ragnok looked at the boy in surprise. Ragnok’s expression was the first to change. “It will be a pleasure working with you, Harry. You seem to have an innate understanding of the financial world, something most wizards do not have. Both Griphook and I are at your service, young sir.” “Ragnok, Griphook, thank you for watching over my family’s account, especially since I didn’t even know it existed.” A sour look briefly flashed across Harry’s face. “I hope I can continue to learn from you.” “I’m sure you will, Harry,” Ragnok said. “Now, if you like, Griphook will show you to your family vault. If you want Mr and Miss Weasley to be able to enter the vault without experiencing severe consequences, you need to state clearly when you stand at the door that ‘I, Harry James Potter, permit Arthur Weasley and Ginevra Molly Weasley,’” Ginny gasped and immediately blushed, “‘access to the Potter Family vault.’ If you wish to restrict them to only one time period or the first room, for example — there are three rooms altogether — then you need to specify that when you grant permission. Griphook will be there to assist you.” Ragnok stood up and Griphook shot to his feet seconds later. “Harry, do you have any other questions or requests?” Harry stood up, followed by Arthur and Ginny. “No, sir. Thank you for everything.” Ragnok turned to Mr Weasley. “Are you satisfied, Mr Weasley?” Mr Weasley stretched to his full height. “You’ve done an exemplary job on Harry’s account. Thank you on behalf of his parents.” Ragnok bowed to Harry and Mr Weasley. “I look forward to many profitable years working with both of you. Unless there is any other service I can provide today, I will have Griphook take you to the vault now.” Both Harry and Mr Weasley shook their head. After shaking hands with both wizards, the Director left through the same side door he had entered at the start of the meeting. “Shall we go to the cart now?” Griphook inquired. “Definitely,” Harry said. A minute later they were careening through the winding catacombs well below Gringotts and wizarding London. Squeals and laughter punctuated their journey, as the cart traversed the network of dimly lit tunnels that held the magical vaults. Harry knew this was the longest trip he had taken on a Gringotts’ cart and thought it also was true for the Weasleys. Solely from the angle of the cart, he knew they were descending, and while not quite the same as flying, the ride was exhilarating and somehow liberating. That is, until they squealed around a blind corner on two wheels, and he froze at the sight of several enormous and definitely live dragons. Ginny gasped and moved closer to Harry. Mr Weasley muttered, “Merlin save us,” and Harry saw him reach for his wand. Unfortunately, the cart decided to slow down to the speed of a baby just learning to crawl at the same time the dragons came into view. Harry looked at Ginny, who had turned white as pure marble and was just as unmoving. Her eyes were wide and unbelieving as she desperately tried to deny the reality of dozens of tonnes of amber-eyed, fire snorting dragons that were watching the occupants of the cart as if they were the main course in their next meal. The cart ground to a halt directly in front of the dragons and not more than fifty metres from the end of the tracks. Harry looked around and confirmed that they were on the lowest level of the catacombs. “Griphook, why are there dragons here?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “They are part of the defence system Gringotts employs to ensure the complete security of every vault in the bank. There has never been a successful robbery in all the years Gringotts of London has been operating. Since the vaults on this level are reserved for our largest depositors, we have gone to the extra lengths of using dragons to safeguard our clients’ assets.” Griphook’s friendly smile turned predatory. “The dragons are always kept a bit underfed.” He exited the cart and held out his hand to assist Ginny. When the petite redhead hadn’t moved in several seconds, Harry nudged her shoulder. “We can get out now, Ginny.” Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing as first Ginny, then her father, stepped from the cart but kept their eyes glued on the dragons the entire time. They quickly joined Griphook and Harry in front of vault number seven. “There is no key for the vaults on this level. To open yours, simply place your hand on your family crest. It will recognize you or anyone you have authorized.” “What happens if someone unauthorized tries to get in?” Harry wondered. Griphook’s eyes lit up. “They are automatically transported to a room carved out of solid granite, stunned, bound, silenced, and stripped of all clothing and possessions.” He grinned maliciously. “We check the room every couple of days.” Harry and the two Weasleys shuddered involuntarily at the thought. “Now, if you will place your hand on the crest, we can proceed.” Harry complied and the solid granite door swung open silently. He peered intently into the vault, but it remained obscured. “An Obscuring Charm eliminates anyone, including the account holder and authorized guests, from seeing into the vault until they have actually entered it. That eliminates any concerns about people with wandering eyes. Even with the door open, anyone lacking proper authorization who tried to gain entrance would find themselves in that same inescapable room I just mentioned. “Would you like to authorize your guests now?” “Yes.” Harry turned towards the open space. “I, Harry James Potter, permit Arthur Weasley and Ginevra Molly Weasley access to all three rooms of the Potter Family vault.” The Obscuring Charm pulsed with a blue light, but remained impenetrable to anyone trying to look into the vault. “You may enter now,” advised Griphook. Mr Weasley and Ginny looked expectantly at Harry. Mr Weasley said, “Harry, why don’t you look around, then let us know when you want us to join you.” “Now.” He smiled and reached out both hands to Ginny and her father. “I want you to be there with me.” They grasped his hands, and the small boy led them into the Potter Family vault, now solely his vault. Two steps into the now visible interior, the trio stopped, eyes dancing in every direction, and their mouths hanging open. Since Harry had just learned of the existence of a family vault, he had not had time to picture what it would look like. Even if he had been given a week, he knew he would not have been able to envision anything like what was in front of him. The front room looked like a very comfortable sitting room or study, except that the ceiling was close to five metres high. To his left sat a large, cushy hunter green sofa, with burgundy leather easy chairs flanking it, and an intricately carved table with a travertine top in front of the sofa. Mahogany curio cabinets, filled with a wide array of artefacts, and tall, densely packed bookcases took up most of the wall space in the room. Despite being carved from granite, the walls seemed polished and somehow warm and cosy despite the scale of the room. Harry noticed an interesting looking box that appeared to be made from a number of interlocking wooden pieces sitting in the middle of the table. Wall sconces were distributed around the room and provided a warm, unobtrusive light. Arthur moved over to the nearest display cabinet and began to inspect the contents, while Harry and Ginny, still holding hands, drifted over to a bookcase. “This looks interesting,” Harry said. “Offensive Spells, Charms, and Hexes Moste Powerful.” “It looks really old,” Ginny said, peering closely at the book cover and pages. “Can you find the date it was published inside?” Harry quickly but gently turned several pages. “Here we go. It was published in 1776. I wonder if anything interesting happened that year.” He turned to Griphook, who had entered the vault. “Can I take anything home?” “This is all yours now,” Griphook reminded the boy. “Let me know if you plan to take many items or any of the larger pieces, and I will arrange for transportation.” “Thanks,” Harry said, “but I’ll probably just take back a few books.” Ginny tapped his shoulder with another book, Cunning Charms. “I was looking at some of the charms. They’re wicked.” She handed the book to him. Harry returned her grin and put the two books on the table. “Let’s check out the next room.” The middle room was much larger and functioned like a storeroom. “Looks like there’s stuff from hundreds of years ago,” Harry said, almost to himself. Wandering around the room, he saw many Muggle-like weapons, which reminded him of the drawings he had seen in the King Arthur books he had read. Paintings covered much of the available wall space and many others were stacked up against the walls in several spots. Decorative items, such as vases, blown glass objects, silver serving pieces, wood carvings, metal sculptures, and statues, were scattered haphazardly on tables, shelves, and the floor, along with folded tapestries and ornate rugs. Most of the floor space was taken up by a wide variety of large, usually over-stuffed, pieces of antique furniture. Bookcases covered two of the walls. As in the first room, the bookcases were tall and filled to bursting with books, many of which looked very old. Harry’s head began to swim. Ginny looked a bit worried when she came up to him. “Everything alright, Harry?” He moved his head back and forth. “Yes, no, I don’t know. Ginny, I had this huge family that I haven’t known about until today. It’s like I’m part of something that’s been around forever. But it doesn’t mean much now, because they’re all gone, and I’m the only one left.” Ginny’s eyes focussed on a spot on the floor. “So, you feel part of something, but you also feel you don’t, because it’s gone.” Harry nodded. “That’s it.” He winced a bit. “There’s also the feeling that I should have known about them.” “So, you’re mad at Dumbledore for not telling you.” “Yeah. It would have helped growing up, you know.” Ginny nodded her head, then Harry shrugged and changed the subject. “Hey, let’s look in the last room.” They walked over to a large shiny steel door, set in the middle of the back wall. Harry noticed a circle in the middle of the door and placed his hand inside. The huge door silently swung open, and the two kids entered what looked like a huge bank safe. Harry entered the chamber, and his mouth dropped open. All of the wall space was taken up by medium brown walnut cabinetry, much like those in expensive kitchens. Three of the walls had bottom cabinets topped by a type of stone that had a softly swirling gold and cream pattern through it, with separate wall-hung cabinets above. The fourth wall, the one to his left as he entered the vault, had tall cupboards that rose at least four metres from the floor. Harry and Ginny both jumped when a voice broke the silence in the room. “All of your funds, legal contracts, important papers, and jewellery are kept in this room,” Griphook explained. “The cabinets, despite being made from wood, have been charmed so they are virtually impossible to damage. May I show you around?” Harry took several deep breaths in order to calm down after being startled by Griphook’s unexpected presence. “Yes, thank you.” Along the wall to the left of the door, Griphook showed the young couple the personal effects contained in the cabinets. They primarily contained a wide range of jewellery, some of it exquisite and obviously extremely expensive, as well as other pieces that were so gaudy Harry wondered about the people who had bought them. He held back a snort when he remembered whoever it was had been a relative of his. He noticed Ginny was particularly taken with a beautiful but understated necklace that featured a garnet coloured stone that hung from a finely crafted chain that seemed to be both gold and silver depending on how the light hit it. Watches, from antique to modern in design, including a number of pocket watches, handbags, wallets, leather portfolios, and luggage were among the many other personal items in the cabinets. Griphook moved over to the wall to the right of the door, then the wall directly in front of it, giving Harry a quick overview of the various documents, deeds, personal journals — but none from his parents — and contracts that dated back over a millennium. Harry found himself having to strongly focus to keep up with the information Griphook was providing, knowing he would have to return at some point to review everything and gain a firmer grasp of the materials here. As they moved to the fourth wall, Ginny whispered, “Are you remembering everything? He lost me at the first cabinet on the wall on the right.” Harry smiled. “Me too.” When the two children turned to look into the tall cupboard Griphook had opened, they gasped at the sight. Dozens, maybe hundreds of money bags, sat on the shelves that went from the bottom of the cupboard to the top. Harry quickly guessed there were ten to twelve shelves. “Each bag holds ten-thousand Galleons,” Griphook advised with a hint of a smirk in his voice. Ginny gasped, and her grip on Harry’s hand spiked to a painful level before returning to more comforting level of pressure. Harry exclaimed, “Merlin.” His expression turned thoughtful and after several seconds, he asked Griphook, “Are all the other cabinets the same?” Griphook nodded, “In general terms, yes. The remaining eight cabinets have the same set-up as this one, except for the last one. That cabinet has several bags of Sickles and Knuts,” he said dismissively, “and Muggle money from various countries.” His voice resumed a respectful tone. “Your ancestors were widely travelled, Harry, so they required a ready supply of Muggle currencies for those occasions.” The predatory smile returned to his sharp-featured face. “We enjoyed the opportunity to trade in the foreign currency markets and were pleased to split the profits with your family members.” Harry couldn’t help grinning at the undisguised excitement Griphook showed at playing financial games and making profits. “If you would like to withdraw funds for school, we can arrange to do that from your school vault.” Harry considered Griphook’s offer for a minute, then said. “Would you withdraw five-hundred Galleons, please?” “My pleasure, Harry. It will be waiting for you when we return to the lobby. Do you have any questions about anything we have discussed today?” Harry smiled. “I’m sure I’ll forget some of what we’ve gone over, but nothing now.” “You can always contact me should you have a question or several,” Griphook offered. Harry’s demeanour became serious. “Griphook, I had no idea any of this existed. Thank you for telling me about all of this. You weren’t required to do that, so, well, thank you.” He turned to Ginny. “This is unbelievable. I didn’t have anything growing up at the Dursleys.” “I know, Harry, but if they had found out about this, they probably would have wanted you to give it to them.” “You’re right.” He smiled at the redhead. “That’s the best way to look at it.” “Shall we leave, then?” Griphook asked. Harry nodded and they left the “money room,” as Harry now thought of it. They found Mr Weasley examining some of the artefacts in the middle room. He looked up at the sound of their approaching footsteps. “Everything settled, Harry?” “Yes, sir. We’re ready to leave now,” the boy responded. “This is an absolutely fascinating place, lad,” Mr Weasley enthused. “I had no idea vaults could be this huge. It certainly gives you a little idea what your ancestors were like. I appreciate you allowing Ginny and me to accompany you.” Harry smiled at the wizard. “It’s really helped having both of you here.” Griphook cleared his throat. When Harry looked at him, the goblin said, “There is one more item we should discuss.” Griphook stopped by the large table that fronted the sofa in the first room and picked up the ornate wooden box. “This will be another surprise.” He paused. “Perhaps you all would like to sit down?” With puzzled looks, Harry, Ginny, and Mr Weasley sat on the sofa. “This box can be opened only if you follow a precise order of movements of the various wood pieces. Would you like me to show them in front of your guests?” Harry immediately responded, “Yes.” He grinned. “But go slowly. My brain is full and ready to burst.” The goblin laughed politely, as Ginny poked Harry lightly in the ribs and Mr. Weasley smiled. Griphook showed Harry each of the seven steps required to open the box. When it opened, Harry and the two Weasleys peered inside. “Keys?” Harry looked at Griphook in confusion. Griphook nodded, a more serious expression than usual on his face. “This undoubtedly will prove frustrating to you, Harry, given what I have heard and observed from our discussion upstairs and as you have gone through your family vault. These are keys to the four properties that remain in the Potter family.” Anger spiked immediately in Harry, causing sweat to leap from his pores and stick annoyingly to his clothes. His head felt like it would explode in seconds and his stomach roiled with sharp, nausea-creating pains. First Griphook, then the rest of the room began to fade into a blinding silver light that drilled through his eyes balls straight into his brain. Harry closed his eyes and tried to shut off his other senses in order to keep his magic under control. “Harry, we’re with you. You’ll be alright. Just take my hand.” Ginny’s soft but urgent voice somehow penetrated the emotions that threatened to isolate him. He felt a small, warm hand grasp his, and he held on as if his life depended on it. “Breath slowly and deeply, son,” Mr Weasley’s calm, paternal voice suggested. “That’s it. You’ll be fine, just breathe slowly. Would you like me to cast Calming and Cooling Charms?” “Yes,” Harry gasped. Seconds later, his breathing began to return to a normal rate, his body seemed to be acting normally, and the pounding left his head. Harry opened his eyes and blinked several times to bring his vision into focus. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. He looked at the three other people in the room. “Sorry, that really got to me.” Mr Weasley nodded. “You’re thinking you could have grown up at one of those houses, aren’t you, lad?” Harry nodded. “He made so many decisions without even letting me know what he had done. Then, he left me at the Dursleys and forgot about me for ten years.” Harry could feel his anger building again. He pulled himself out of the emotions sweeping through him by focussing on taking slow, deep lungfuls of air. Slowly, a calm feeling returned. Though he tried, Mr Weasley couldn’t hide his feeling of anger over what Harry had been put through. Questions, never considered before, flew through his mind. Nevertheless, when he spoke to his charge, it was with his usual calm, measured voice. “Harry, it is probably best to focus on today, not what happened in the past. You’ve learned many wonderful things about your family and gained financial stability thanks to Griphook.” The goblin nodded his thanks to the Weasley patriarch. “Please try to look at these developments as the tremendously positive discoveries they are.” He reached over and placed an arm around the boy. “I’ll try.” He looked up at the man with some anger still remaining in his eyes and tried to smile. “Now you know why I wanted you to come with me.” The boy exhaled shakily, and he leaned into Mr Weasley’s embrace. Several minutes later, Harry felt calm enough to continue. “Can we go back now?” He got up with the Weasleys, Ginny’s hand still nestled in his. Griphook remained still for a moment, then looked at Mr Weasley, then Harry. “If you don’t mind, Harry, I should explain what the keys do. Each is numbered to correspond with a specific property. All you have to do is touch your wand to it and say ‘Potter residence,’ and you will be transported to the entry hall in that house. To return, just say ‘Return.’ It probably would not be wise to visit any of the properties today.” Griphook looked at Harry and Mr Weasley; both nodded their agreement. “The deeds are in the last room, in the second cabinet along the wall on the right. Ownership has automatically conveyed to you and the property paperwork has been filed on your behalf years ago, so there is nothing that has to be transacted at this time.” Harry nodded, knowing those actions occurred after his parents were killed by Voldemort. Griphook continued. “The first property is called Fortuna or Potter Estates. It is the family’s ancestral home, located outside Oxford. It has a very large mansion and several hundred acres surrounding it. Your parents lived in the second house after they married. It is a Cotswold-style bungalow on the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow in Wales. It is a very comfortable home, though not nearly the size or scale of the Manor. But it does have substantial acreage, about fifty, if I recall. A small retreat located in the Lake District and a townhouse in the Notting Hill section of London are the third and forth designated properties. “Please let us know if and when you plan to visit any of these properties. We have them warded, so we will know if anyone enters the property.” Harry grinned to himself at the return of Griphook’s sinister smile, knowing the wards most likely did more than advise the goblins of a trespasser. “You would be able to enter the property, but any guests would run into difficulties.” Harry looked at the wide-eyed Mr and Miss Weasley. “Thanks, Griphook. I’ll let you know when we decide to visit the properties.” He grinned. “I don’t think my guests want to find out what would happen if they weren’t authorized.” With everyone smiling, they left the Potter Family vault and returned to the lobby via a slightly more subdued cart ride. Prior to entering the cart, Harry noticed that the dragons watched the group but with much less intensity than before and wondered what it would be like to ride the mammoth animals. An associate of Griphook’s, named Ternton, met them in the lobby with a bag containing the five-hundred Galleons Harry had requested. After a series of sincere thank you’s and best wishes, the trio left Gringotts and proceeded up the Alley. Next stop for the trio was The Leaky Cauldron and lunch with the other members of the Weasley family. The meal stretched out over much food and even more conversation as everyone sought to describe what had occurred during their morning activities — or at least most of the activities, in the case of Harry, Ginny, and Mr Weasley. Once lunch was concluded, the trio bid goodbye to the rest of the group, who still had school supplies and robes to purchase, while Ginny led Harry to a new shop, located across from Ollivander’s, so she could start the process of replacing Harry’s entire wardrobe. As soon as they started to make their way back down the Alley, Ginny laced her fingers through Harry’s and smiled at her friend. “I’ve been looking forward to this, Mr Potter. You won’t believe how much better you’ll look after I’m through with you.” Harry snorted at the girl’s lack of modesty, but at the same time a change in the flow of the people around them caught his attention. In looking around, he saw that Mr Weasley had observed the same change and had become much more alert, constantly scanning the crowd. Harry caught Mr Weasley’s attention and whispered, “What’s wrong?” “I think some people heard your name . . .” “Darn it,” Ginny hissed under her breath. “I should know better than that. Sorry, Harry.” “Don’t worry about it, Gin. We’ll be fine.” They sped up, and Harry tried to see if the staring, pointing, and whispering continued. Finally satisfied that Harry wouldn’t be approached, the three relaxed and returned to enjoying the sights and sounds that were unique to Diagon Alley. Several minutes later, Harry saw a large banner on the building across from the wandmaker’s shop announcing the “Grand Opening of Magical Mugglewear.” Ginny’s face lit up. “Here it is,” and she tugged on the highly reticent boy’s arm, pulling him into the shop. Mr Weasley followed, a smile on his face at his daughter’s enthusiasm, but with one last sweep of the alley to see if there was anything of concern. “Since you already have your school clothes, we’ll look for more casual stuff.” Ginny walked through the ‘wizards’ section’ of the store, continuing her stream of conscious monologue while periodically grabbing shirts, pants, jumpers, and other items that met her initial approval. For some reason Harry couldn’t figure out, Ginny seemed to prefer an emerald shade of green for most of the shirts and jumpers she selected. Thirty minutes later, Harry was staggering under a load of clothing. She smiled sweetly. “Time to try them on,” she whispered, “Mr Potter.” Harry nodded, well aware of the futility of arguing with a Weasley female. “Yes, dear.” He disappeared into a changing room, before Ginny could swat him on the arm. Slowly Harry worked his way through the stack of clothing she had selected for him, walking into the waiting area outside the changing rooms to model each piece for Ginny. Some items were immediately approved for purchase or rejected for one reason or another, others required an inspection from all angles, and on one or two occasions she returned to the store proper for another colour or size of the garment in question. After what seemed to be hours, all the decisions had been made, and Harry took the clothes that had met Ginny’s approval to the cashier only to find to his utter mortification that a selection of underwear and socks were already waiting for him. Paying quickly and trying to ignore the clerk’s bemused smirk, Harry carried out the shrunken bags, compliments of Mr Weasley’s charm, in one moderately-sized bag that trumpeted the name of the new shop in blazing letters. “Before we go back to the Leaky Cauldron, I want to make one more stop,” Harry said. Both Ginny and Mr Weasley looked at him curiously. Harry looked directly at Mr Weasley. “I want to go to Ollivander’s and buy Ginny a new wand.” Both Weasleys began protesting. Harry smiled, while ignoring everything they said. Finally, they paused for a breath and Harry said, “The wand chooses the witch. Ginny should have a wand of her own. Besides, you have to let me pay for something.” He looked at the man, hoping to convey the feeling that this was important to him. “Please?” Mr Weasley assented without another word. To Harry, Mr Ollivander looked as creepy as he did the first time. “Back again so soon, Mr Potter?” Harry shook his head. But when Mr Weasley swivelled around to check the room, Mr Ollivander added, “Don’t worry, Mr Weasley, no one else is here.” He looked at the young witch. “May I assume the wand will be for Miss Weasley, then?” Ginny smiled. “Yes, sir. I’ve been using a wand from one of my aunt’s.” Mr Ollivander scowled. “The wand chooses the witch, Miss Weasley. You will be in for a treat when we match you up.” The ancient wandmaker proceeded to take out his magical measuring tape, set it loose on the unsuspecting witch, then he disappeared once the results were in. Mr Ollivander returned several minutes later with a number of thin boxes. “Try this,” he commanded and thrust the first wand into Ginny’s hand. “Give it a nice swish.” Nothing happened. This process was repeated five more times, as Ginny became increasing irritated and a little bit distraught. After the sixth failure, Mr Ollivander disappeared again into the dusty shelves in the back of his long, narrow shop. Ginny turned to Harry. “What if no wand chooses me?” Harry replied, “Don’t worry. I tried almost every wand in the shop before he found this one, and it’s been great.” Ollivander returned with a smile on his face and just one box in his hand. “Try this one, Miss Weasley. I think you will be pleased.” Mr Ollivander started ringing up the sale even before Ginny had picked up the wand. Seconds later, scarlet and golden sparks exploded from the end of the wand when Ginny tested it. A huge smile crossed her face. “I think I’ve been chosen.” “Nine and three-quarter inches, willow, flexible, with a dragon heartstring core. This is a wand for a powerful witch, Miss Weasley. It is one of a very few wands that is good for all types of spell casting.” He looked briefly at Harry. “Perhaps great things await you.” Ginny, Harry, and Mr Weasley all looked puzzled by Mr Ollivander’s last comment, but the man was already busy placing the wand back in the box. Harry paid, and they quickly left the shop. As soon as they stepped into the Alley, Ginny launched herself at Harry, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she said excitedly. Stepping back, she looked from Harry to her dad. “I could feel the magic moving through the wand without doing anything.” Her eyes sparkled, as she smiled at both of them. Mr Weasley smiled back at his daughter. “That was extraordinarily nice of you, Harry.” He sighed and looked down briefly. “I think it’s time we returned to The Leaky Cauldron and see what the others have been up to.” Half an hour later, the group had Floo’d back to The Burrow with their purchases. Harry smiled to himself while he folded his new clothes into the school trunk. He would never admit this to Ginny, or anyone else for that matter, but he liked having new clothes that fit correctly, looked good, and had never been worn by anyone else. As dinner ended that evening, Harry became uncomfortable when he noticed everyone at the table looking at him, some more subtly than others, but all showing a degree of anticipation on their face. “Don’t worry,” Ginny leaned over and whispered. “You’ll like this.” From the head of the table, Mr Weasley cleared his throat. “Over the past month, we have been graced with the presence of a truly remarkable young man . . .” “Thanks, Dad.” Shocked silence reigned for several seconds as the family goggled at the son who had uttered those words, then it was obliterated by wave after wave of laughter, claps on the back of the person who was responsible for the remark, and an embarrassed smirk by the culprit. No one in the family would have guessed that Percival Ignatius Weasley had possessed even an ounce of humour in his entire body. While trying, and failing, to look repentant, Percy said, “Sorry, Dad. Please continue.” Even though he was looking down, a wide grin was easily seen on his face. Arthur smiled. “Before I was so humorously interrupted, I was saying we’ve had a month now to get to know a young man we each thought we already knew quite well through the articles and books that have been published about him. We learned to our shock that the stories presented about the young man in no way reflect who he is or the wonderful personal and magical qualities he possesses. “Harry, it is our extreme pleasure to officially welcome you into the Weasley family.” As Mr Weasley and their five children cheered and applauded, Mrs Weasley brought in a fairly large object that was covered with a large towel. She placed it on the table in front of Harry. “If you would do the honours, son,” Mr Weasley asked. Harry looked around and saw nothing but eager faces, so with a slight flourish he pulled the towel off and found himself wondering why they had put the Weasley Family clock in front of him. “Look at the hands, Harry,” Mrs Weasley coaxed. Immediately, he saw that a new hand had been added; one bearing his name. Stunned was too superficial a word to describe the feelings surging through his body. After a decade of being denied anything resembling a normal relationship with his aunt’s family, he had been accepted, totally and without question, by each member of the Weasley family. The activity surrounding him seemed to stop momentarily as several thoughts ran through his mind. They want me to be part of their family despite who I am. The twins, Ron, and Percy have each offered their support when we get to Hogwarts. I don’t know what to call the feelings I get from Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny. I just know I’ve never felt this way before or been treated this good. Harry looked at each member of his new family. “Thank you.” He grinned widely as Ron, the twins, and even Percy came over and pounded his back and energetically shook his hand, welcoming him to the family with both humour and deeply felt sincerity. Ginny smiled from her place next to him and mouthed, ‘Welcome, Harry.’ Outside of flying with Ginny, this is the best feeling I’ve ever had. Harry wasn’t sure what made him get out of his chair, but he knew without a doubt what he wanted to do. He went first to Mrs Weasley, who was standing next to her husband. Without hesitation, Harry leaned into her and wrapped his arms around her back. Her arms instantly pulled him tightly to her, letting him know he was now one of her sons. Mrs Weasley kissed the top of his head, and Harry glowed, thinking ‘that’s what a mother’s kiss feels like.’ When they finally broke the hug, Harry saw Mr Weasley standing next to them. The man smiled warmly and kneeled down with his arms opened wide. Harry launched himself at the man, wrapping himself in Mr Weasley’s embrace, and feeling the hole created by the loss of his father had just filled in some more. When Harry straightened up, he was the same eye level as Mr Weasley. Harry held up his hand. His movement was mirrored seconds later by Mr Weasley. Both hands moved forward and met halfway, warmly grasping the other. Mr Weasley whispered, “You’ll always be part of our family, Harry.” Harry felt that sentiment flow through his hand and move directly to his heart, then spread throughout the rest of his body. I bet this is how I felt when I was with my parents. “C’mon, Harry, let’s play some wizard’s chess.” Despite improving each game, Harry and Ginny lost three times in a row to Ron. At the end of the third game, Mrs Weasley suggested that the children go to bed. Ron, Percy, and the twins said ‘goodnight’ to Ginny and Harry at the first landing and continued up the stairs to the upper floors. “See you later?” Ginny whispered. “Can’t wait,” Harry replied. “Me either. I’ll come over after my parents have gone to bed.” Harry nodded and went into the loo to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Once completed and changed into his pyjamas, Harry picked up the first album and began leafing through the photos for the third time. The four close friends, who were more than that. Pictures of his parents, together and individually. Pictures of himself, so small whether by himself or being held by one of his parents. Quidditch with his dad playing Chaser and scoring goals, followed by photos of his mum cheering, a smile on her face. His first birthday party, including family friends, especially those with red hair. A knock on the door pulled him out of the memories “Come in, Mr Weasley.” “Just wanted to check in on you, Harry,” Mr Weasley said. “Which album is that?” “The first one again.” “That’s the, uh, third time?” Mr Weasley guessed. Harry smiled. “That’s right. The last picture I looked at was my first birthday and you guys were in it.” “Yes, we were, and that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. Harry, it’s a pretty serious discussion for right before you go to sleep, but I wanted to say it. I hope you don’t mind.” Harry shook his head. “Go ahead.” Mr Weasley sat at the foot of the bed, looking much more relaxed. “This is especially appropriate since you’ve been looking at the pictures. Harry, we — Mrs Weasley and I — have no intentions of trying to replace your parents.” Harry’s body jerked back in surprise, nearly smacking the back of his head against the headboard. Mr Weasley looked distressed by Harry’s reaction. “Is that a concern of yours, lad?” “No!” Harry blurted out his answer much more strongly than he had intended. He consciously lowered his voice. “I’ve never thought that since I’ve been here. You just want to help, because you were friends of my parents and knew me when I was a baby.” “Then, you’re comfortable living with us and our children and being thought of as family?” Mr Weasley asked. Harry immediately nodded his head. “I’ll always have memories of my parents and now these pictures. But they’re not here, so I feel like I’m really lucky to have people like you and Mrs Weasley who want me to stay with you. It’s like they’re two different things to me.” Mr Weasley exhaled strongly and relaxed. “Good. I hadn’t seen any indications that you had any problems with what we’re doing. But I still wanted to make sure.” The wizard breathed deeply. “I’m glad that’s over. Since this has been a very busy day, I think we’ll skip doing a story on your parents.” Harry nodded his head sleepily. “Goodnight, Harry.” “G’night, Mr Weasley.” W hile waiting for Ginny to sneak over, Harry picked up another group of materials the Weasleys had collected from Harry’s past. He pulled out a large piece of parchment that had acquired much more meaning due to this morning’s revelations. The Potter Family Tree traced the family’s ancestry back to the ninth century. I had no idea I was part of such a huge family that went back so far. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, as he fought the increasing anger that began to boil in his centre. The heat quickly rose to his neck and face, sweat formed on his brow and neck, and he swiped at the moisture. I can’t let Dumbledore’s decisions upset me so much. My life could have been different without feeling so alone, not like anyone else, thinking I was a freak, having no money . . . Stop it! Focus on the good stuff I know now and not what Dumbledore has done to me. It’s going to be so much better now. The small boy filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly, trying to stop the battering thoughts, all of which came back to one source — Albus Dumbledore. He returned to the parchment and a smile began to form, getting bigger, the more he poured over the names shown on the tree. The Weasleys . . . Bones . . . Longbottom . . . Greengrass . . . Black . . . Peverell . . . and many others. Wow! I’m related to lots of wizarding families. My family’s been part of this for over a thousand years . . . I’m part of the wizarding world . . . Harry’s thoughts drifted until a light tapping on his door brought him back. He walked over to the door, as Ginny stuck her head in. “Up for some flying?” Her grin was infectious. Harry scrunched his nose. “Nah. It’s getting old. Let’s skip tonight.” Ginny’s eyes widened noticeably, then just as quickly narrowed. “Prat!” she whispered. Harry grinned. “Yup.” The petite redhead faked a scowl, grabbed his hand, and pulled him out the door. Once they were outside and far enough away from the house, Ginny stopped. “You really need to get a better sense of humour, Potter.” Harry held up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t get much chance to use one with the Dursleys.” Ginny flinched, then the teasing look returned to her face. “Good point, but that excuse won’t work for too much longer.” She grinned at the boy. “Let’s go flying!” They sprinted to the shed and quickly grabbed the two brooms they had come to think as their own. A few minutes later, they were racing through the still-warm air, laughing, and teasing each other. Much later, Harry floated in the centre of the paddock area, well above the tree line, identifying the various stars, planets, and constellations Ginny had pointed out during their nightly sojourns. “A knut for your thoughts?” Ginny pulled up next to Harry’s Cleansweep. Harry raised his head and adopted a superior attitude. “They are worth much more than a knut.” Ginny snorted. “Two knuts, then.” Harry grinned. “Sold. I was thinking about what you’ve taught me, like the stars and planets and the stories about the constellations, I just, well . . .” He shook his head. “Want to try the Wronski again?” Ginny’s look of concern quickly changed to understanding, then to a smile. “Sure. I can see the ground better tonight, so maybe . . .” “You’ll do great, Gin.” They quickly aligned their brooms and grabbed the other’s hand. “On three?” Harry asked, and Ginny nodded in response. Three seconds later, they were racing towards the ground in an almost vertical descent. As the ground rushed towards them, Harry felt the telltale tightening of Ginny’s hand on his. Just a split second too soon, she let go and pulled out of the dive. Harry’s heart lurched, knowing Ginny would be upset by her action. When he turned to find her, though, she was no where to be found. His heart seemed to stop as he frantically swept the ground with his eyes. “Up here,” came the voice of his friend, and Harry’s breathing resumed with a deep gasp. “Fly down here, Gin, I have an idea.” Her eyes narrowed into a sceptical expression, but she pointed the broom down and was soon on the ground, standing beside him, but with a questioning, almost angry look on her face. Harry explained, “I thought you could get the feeling better if we fly together. I’ll fly so you can get the feel of when to pull up. Okay?” Ginny thought hard for several seconds. “That’s a good idea. Okay, let’s do it.” They hopped on Harry’s Cleansweep, with Ginny in the pillion position. Harry kicked off slowly. “I need to get used to the different weight and balance of the broom, so I’m going to fly around and do a few easy dives.” “Good thinking, Potter. I’d hate to think what a mess we’d be if you ploughed us into the ground doing a Wronski.” Harry shuddered theatrically. “Don’t even want to think about that.” They spent the next five minutes flying around the paddock, with Harry doing increasingly complex and faster manoeuvres, including dives from greater heights. He worked their way back to the same height of their first dive and partially turned so he could look at his rider. “Ready?” he asked. Ginny immediately answered with a strong, “Yes.” “You can see over my shoulder okay?” “Uh huh.” Ginny’s arms tightened around his torso. “Lean forward with me on three.” On three, the two children leaned forward as a single, two-headed entity. Harry knew he had to use the same vertical angle and speed they’d used before or else Ginny would be mad at him for babying her. In the next split second, his instincts took over, and Harry lost all rational thought, leaving only his reflexes, timing, and the pure joy of doing something that he loved beyond reason. A high-pitched scream accompanied their accelerating downward sprint. Harry waited for what felt like forever until he knew it was time. He leaned back, and Ginny followed his movement as if she were part of him. The blades of the grass stretched closer and closer to the two flyers, and more and more detail became visible. In the next second, they were moving horizontally and Ginny was screaming in his ear, “I felt the grass with the soles of my shoes. Oh Merlin,” she gasped, “that was incredible. Can you hear my heart? It’s beating so fast it may explode. Woo hoo!” Harry couldn’t stop from smiling, both from relief that they’d done it and even more so from Ginny’s excitement. He slowed down and turned the broom so it faced The Burrow. As soon as Ginny said, “Let me try the dive now,” a light in the house went on, then just as quickly blinked off. “Darn! We better get back to the house.” Ginny’s voice dripped with disappointment. “Tomorrow night will be the full moon, so it will be even brighter,” Harry said. “That’s right, and we can stay out longer.” She laughed sharply. “I won’t yell so loud next time.” Harry laughed and landed the broom next to where Ginny had left hers. As soon as they got off the broom, he was engulfed in what he had begun to think of as a “Weasley hug,” an all-encompassing, full-out, breath taking action that outstripped anything Harry had previously experienced. “I’m so happy you’re part of our family,” she whispered, then she briefly tightened the hug before letting go. “I am, too,” Harry whispered back. When the two children stepped back, they both saw the other reflecting their smile. Ginny picked up her broom, and they silently walked hand in hand back to The Burrow, smiling the entire time. They returned the brooms to the shed, and Harry cast a Silencing Charm on Ginny and himself before they entered the house. Once they reached their landing, the two children mouthed ‘goodnight,’ and Harry removed the spell from them. Lying in bed, Harry relived his time flying with Ginny, thinking it was the best feeling he had ever had in his life. Harry woke up unusually early the next morning, the next-to-last day before they departed for Hogwarts. The boy’s insides filled with both excitement and dread at the thought of going to the huge school with hundreds of students he didn’t know, most of whom where older than he was and had been around magic all their lives. Concerns about the professors also flowed through his thoughts, and he hoped they were like Professor McGonagall, even though he knew there was scant chance of that, since he was already sure she was at the top of her profession. Those thoughts brought Harry to the decision to look through another of the Weasleys’ gifts to him, until other members of the family got up. He pulled a folder from the desk that contained letters about his parents written by some of their Hogwarts professors, including Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, the strangely named Slughorn, several others, and irritatingly, one from Dumbledore. I may as well look at his letter. I really don’t like feeling so angry with him all the time. Maybe the letter will make me feel better about him. Harry pulled the embossed letter off the stack and immediately laughed at the information printed on the top of the stationery. In addition to the headmaster’s full name, a ridiculously long one including three middle names, all of the wizard’s titles and awards were listed, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer; Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Harry took a deep breath and began to read the florid penmanship of the headmaster. Dear Harry, Being approached by both Mr and Mrs Weasley and Remus Lupin has made me realize that I have been remiss in yet another aspect of your care and acculturation into the wizarding society to which you now belong. Specifically, I have failed to help you learn you and your family’s place in the wizarding world from which you would have known how important your ancestors were in establishing a wizarding society in Great Britain, and the roles played by your family members for over one thousand years , including your dear parents, as beacons of the Light. Remus has already obtained memories of your parents from a number of people, and I was more than pleased to add mine to the collection. It is my hope that they will provide you both with insights into who James and Lily were and to help draw you closer to them. This is something I should have thought of, so please accept the heartfelt apologies of your Headmaster for not doing so. In the summer prior to each class reaching their fifth year at Hogwarts, two students — one a wizard, the other a witch — are selected from each House to be Prefects. These students are felt to represent the best of that House, and their outstanding leadership and academic success are rewarded by gaining this honour. At the end of the sixth year, two of the eight Prefects are selected to be Head Boy and Head Girl for the school. It is one of the highest honours Hogwarts can bestow on a student, and one I hope you will strive towards during your time at our school. I selected your parents, James Potter and Lily Evans, as Head Boy and Girl for their seventh year. I did so for several reasons. They were powerful magically, though that power manifested itself differently in your parents. Lily was among the smartest students ever to attend Hogwarts, particularly in Charms and Potions. That she was Muggle-born never held her back, and in fact, may have served as a source of motivation. Regardless, as you will see in the other letters, Lily was held in high esteem by her professors. Your father, while capable of excelling academically at the same levels as your mother, chose a different route to show his magical abilities. The creativity behind the pranks he and his friends pulled during their time at my school certainly established them as the premier pranksters in the annals of Hogwarts. From other people, you may learn some of these activities. I am sure you can understand that it is not my place as Headmaster to create an environment where these activities may be repeated. Your parents were natural leaders, though they came from entirely different backgrounds. Your mother, as I mentioned, was born into a non-magical family. Your father, as you are learning now, was born into one of the oldest and most powerful magical families in our country. Despite their different beginnings, James and Lily were the two most respected students at Hogwarts during their sixth year, and they had held the respect of their classmates, as well as those students who were younger or older than they were. I knew the other students no matter which House they were affiliated with would follow the lead provided by your parents. The third and last reason for my selecting them is the most personal. Your parents, as you will learn in more detail from other people, had a rocky relationship during most of their time at Hogwarts. During the latter part of their sixth year, however, I noted that James was making the changes necessary to attract your mother’s positive attention. Prior to that, suffice it to say, he more than likely earned her negative attention. Well on their way to overcoming their differences by the end of sixth year, I decided to gently assist the development of any relationship that could develop during their last year. So, I named them Head Boy and Head Girl, which required that they work closely together and be able to present a unified front to the school. It seems to have worked. By the middle of their seventh year, James and Lily were obviously in love, and it was a marvellous match of two powerful magical people who would make the other even better. Of course, I would have selected them for the positions even if they had not shown the inclination towards a long-term relationship. They had achieved the honour by excelling in all the usual areas we review. Their personal relationship just made it that much more meaningful for me. Harry, I hope this short letter helps you to see that your parents were indeed special people, both as individuals and as a couple. They truly were two of the most outstanding students to have graced the halls of this very ancient school. You should be proud to be their son and to be part of such an outstanding family. I look forward to your arrival at Hogwarts and to establishing a lifelong relationship with you. Yours very truly, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry The second he finished reading Dumbledore’s letter, Harry flung the parchment in the general direction of his desk before his anger and disgust goaded him into casting a spell that would destroy it. Shocked, he saw the books on the top of the desk scatter like leaves whipped by the wind. Harry stared at the parchment, wondering how it had caused his books to move that like. Realization quickly dawned on the boy. He had sent the books flying, just as if he had knocked them off the desk with his arm — or more accurately the magic in his hand and arm. I’ve got to calm down. I can’t damage the Weasleys’ house. Take deep breaths. Finally, he felt ready to think about the letter without his magic running amok. Dumbledore as good as said he’s the reason my mum and dad got together and ended up getting married. He selected them for Head Boy and Head Girl like he thinks he’s some type of god or something. Merlin, he makes me furious the way he wrote about my mother being a Muggle-born. He made it sound like she had some kind of horrible disease. Huh! Pretty much said she had to overcome her non-magical family, especially since he mentioned it a few times. That sure didn’t stop him from dumping me with those Muggle relatives of mine and forgetting about me for ten years. They hated magic. How could he not know that? He had to have known Aunt Petunia and maybe even Uncle Vernon. What was he playing at? He made Dad sound like a jerk, who didn’t care about his classes, only goofing around, and that Mum hated him most of the time. Dumbledore’s had all this time to tell me about my parents and my family. If it wasn’t for the Weasleys getting all this stuff, I bet he still wouldn’t have told me anything. It’s almost like he wanted to keep as much information from me as possible. Maybe that’s why he hid me away at the Dursleys’. This letter is just him doing the same things he does to me all the time. It’s all about him and his games. He sits in his office and mucks around in other people’s lives, not really caring about them, just getting them to do what he wants. Who gave him the authority to run other people’s lives, to make decisions and not even tell them? His mistakes cost my parents their lives. That’s why he won’t tell me anything. Dumbledore’s still hiding stuff — I know it. Harry heard sounds of activity downstairs and assumed Mrs Weasley had started breakfast. He took several deep breaths. I still need to cool down. Maybe a cold shower will do it. Fifteen minutes later, Harry went down the stairs, skipping what he thought of as Ginny’s step, and entered the kitchen, carrying the piece of parchment in his hand. “Good morning,” he said to Mr and Mrs Weasley. Once he had been greeted, Harry asked, “Mr Weasley, would you read this letter from Professor Dumbledore?” “Sure, Harry.” He took the letter and began to read. Harry sat down at his usual spot and noticed that Mr Weasley’s open expression had changed to a frown that seemed to deepen the longer he read the letter. His eyes had narrowed by the time he finished the letter. Seeing the boy watching him, Arthur Weasley heaved a deep sigh. “What did you think of the headmaster’s letter, Harry?” Harry tried to rein in the surge of anger he felt when he thought of the letter. He looked at the man and immediately knew how he had to respond. “It made me mad,” he said quietly. Mr Weasley nodded and pursed his lips. “Thank you for being honest with me, son. You didn’t want to say anything negative to me about Professor Dumbledore, did you?” Harry’s first reaction was to drop his head and mumble that he was sorry. But he quickly realized Mr Weasley wasn’t mad at him. He was just trying to find out what he was thinking. “He’s not the type of man you . . . ah . . . get mad at.” Mr Weasley slowly nodded his head. “But you are mad at him.” Harry nodded his head. “He made it seem they got together only because of him, like he was taking credit for it or something. He kept saying that my mother was Muggle-born, my dad was a joker, and they hated each other.” Harry paused, but it was obvious to Mr Weasley the boy was not finished speaking. “It’s like on the surface he was saying they were good people, but what he really said was they had lots of problems and wouldn’t have been any good without him making those decisions.” He looked at the wizard. “Does that make any sense?” Mr Weasley smiled. “Yes, it does, Harry. You’ve provided a good summary of the letter.” Mr Weasley’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Are you familiar with the term ‘self-serving?’” Harry shook his head. “Well, it means something that a person does, says, or,” he held up the letter, “writes that makes that person look good, when it was supposed to be about other people.” Harry smiled. “Like this letter?” Mr Weasley raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid so, Harry. The headmaster is a leader in the wizarding world, and he is quite used to people seeking his opinion, being highly complimentary to him, and rightly so, I may add. I’m not sure he intended this letter to sound the way it does, if that helps you at all. I know he thought very highly of your parents, so I am positive there was no intent to make them look bad.” “I understand, Mr Weasley. Thanks.” Harry looked at the man again. “Why would he write about the problems my mum had as a Muggle-born, then put me with my Muggle relatives, so I would be raised without magic like my mum and not know anything about magic or the wizarding world?” Mr Weasley’s eyes widened. “That’s an excellent question, Harry. Other than what we know already — that the blood wards protected you there — it is a question I am not able to answer for you at this time.” “That’s okay, Mr Weasley. Thanks for looking at the letter for me.” Mr Weasley smiled at the newest member of his family. “That’s what we’re here for, Harry.” The young boy smiled back at the man. “Blood y menace!” Ron yelled. He dove after his new familiar, Scabbers, an old, slightly decrepit common garden rat. Percy had given the pet to Ron earlier that morning, since he had received an owl as a reward for being selected Prefect for the fifth year Gryffindors. “Hedwig, leave the rat alone!” Harry was baffled by the unusual behaviour of his normally well-behaved owl. Ginny, Ron, and Harry had been sitting in Harry’s room, playing Gobstones, when Hedwig returned from hunting and dove directly at the rat. Ron was now stretched out on the floor, trying to coax the petrified rat closer to him, so he could capture the rodent and return him to safety in his new owner’s top-floor room. “Finally!” Ron pulled himself up from the floor, Scabbers squirming in hand, gave one last glare at Hedwig, and left the room. Hedwig flew over to her perch and tucked her head under her wing and went to sleep. Ginny turned to Harry. “You know that would have been really gross if Hedwig had caught the stupid rat.” Harry scrunched his face up at the thought. “Thanks for mentioning that, Weasley.” He lowered his voice. “Flying tonight?” She nodded. “This should probably be our last time. It will be too sad on the last night before you guys leave.” “And I wouldn’t get much sleep.” Harry smiled. Ginny laughed. “We couldn’t have you falling asleep at the Welcoming Feast.” He snorted. “Landing face first in my food wouldn’t make a great first impression.” “Except on your face!” Ginny exploded with laughter. Mrs Weasley’s voice was easily heard above the two children’s laughter. “Dinner’s ready. Wash up first.” Harry and Ginny dutifully stopped at the loo, then proceeded down the stairs, one clean hand in another. After dinner and the usual demolition by Ron at chess, despite Ginny’s best efforts to help him, Harry retired to bed to finish packing his trunk for the looming trip to Hogwarts — only one day remained before they left. When that was finished, Harry started revising the few remaining sections in the third year Potions book. All the other books had been returned to Percy the previous day. After Harry finished off the Potions book, he returned it to Percy, stopped off at the loo on the way back to prepare for bed, and had just settled in with the second album, when there was a light knock on the door. Mr Weasley entered the room at Harry’s greeting. “Oh, I see you’re looking at the pictures. Why don’t we just go through them, and I’ll fill in wherever I can.” “That would be great,” Harry answered. Mr Weasley pulled the desk chair out, so he was seated by the head of the bed, next to Harry, so they could easily see the photos. The next hour passed comfortably as Mr Weasley identified people Harry didn’t know, provided stories behind the events and individuals captured in the photos, and added to the boy’s increasing knowledge of his parents. When they finished paging through the photo album, Mr Weasley cleared his throat, and Harry looked up in anticipation. “Son, I thought it might be better if we had a little talk tonight. The day and evening before the departure to Hogwarts is usually a little bit busy.” The man smiled ruefully while Harry grinned. “As you can imagine, it’s a madhouse around here, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to talk with you. “Harry, the advice I’m going to give you is very simple, but you will find it a challenge. We, that is Molly, err, Mrs Weasley and I want you to be yourself. By that, we mean the person you’ve kept hidden for all these years, lad. We understand perfectly why you did that. But those times have passed, and it’s time for you to be yourself fully. “I know that will be hard, but remember that you are now in the world that you were meant to be.” He smiled at the young boy. “I’m talking too much. Do you have any questions so far?” Harry immediately shook his head, but seconds later looked at the bedspread and nodded yes. He breathed deeply. “I guess I’m worried about how people will look at me. I hate being the centre of attention.” He glanced up at the man. “Hogwarts is huge, and I won’t know anybody except Ron, the twins, and Percy. I won’t know any professors except Professor McGonagall. I don’t know anything about the wizarding world or much about magic. I guess . . .” he exhaled strongly, “I guess I’m just worried that I’ll be lousy at everything, and people will think ‘that’s the famous Harry Potter?’” Mr Weasley nodded his head. “Harry, the feelings you’ve described, except for the fame, of course, are fairly common for many first years, especially those from non-magical families or who are the first in their family to go to Hogwarts. May I address each of your concerns?” Harry nodded his head, feeling just a little bit better by what Mr Weasley had said. “There’s nothing you can do about the fame. People will react in whatever way they choose. What you can control is how you act, which brings us back to what I mentioned. Be yourself.” Mr Weasley leaned forward and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You are a very good young man. Unfortunately, the way your relatives treated you never allowed you to learn that fact. Let me assure you that in the month you’ve been with us, we’ve seen quite a special wizard emerge.” Arthur Weasley smiled at the boy’s blush. “I’m going to embarrass you some more, son. You are intelligent and curious, which is a wonderful combination. I don’t think you will have any problems learning the material presented in your classes, as long as you work hard. Many first years don’t have any more familiarity with magic than you do, and some will have less. Harry, you may not know it at this point, but the magic you’ve learned already from Professor McGonagall is quite advanced for a first year.” He smiled at his charge. “And I know you have been studying both second and third year text books. Three times each?” Harry nodded. “As for not knowing many people, knowing Ron, George, Fred, and Percy will put you on equal footing with most of the incoming students and ahead of many of them. Don’t worry about making tonnes of friends. Instead, focus on learning about people you meet and making friends with the ones you like. As we’ve discussed, you have very good instincts. Trust them, Harry, and you’ll know who is worthwhile. It’s better to have several good friends, than just to know lots of people.” Harry began to feel better about the looming trip to Hogwarts and everything that would follow it. “One last topic, lad, more of a reminder really. Talk with Professor McGonagall about the House system.” Harry leaned forward. “Even if she doesn’t want to make changes, you can. Use your fame to your advantage. Students in the other houses, especially Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and maybe a few Slytherins, will want to be your friend. You can break down the Houses one new friend at a time by simply talking to those other students that are in your classes, studying with them, eating at their tables, and just getting together.” Arthur Weasley smiled warmly at the young boy. “I think you’re going to have a smashing year, Harry.” Harry launched himself at the man, throwing his arms around him, and squeezing tight. Mr Weasley wrapped his arms around the boy, the smile on his face growing even warmer. “Thanks, Mr Weasley,” Harry whispered. “I feel a lot better now.” “Just remember, Harry. You’ll never be alone again. You’re family.” The boy buried his head in the man’s chest. The empty feeling caused by the loss of his parents was again reduced by Mr Weasley’s heartfelt words. Ten minutes later the Weasley patriarch had gone upstairs for the evening. Ginny tapped lightly at the door and stuck her head in the room. “I couldn’t wait any longer,” she whispered. “Let’s go.” Harry smiled at the excited look on the redhead’s face, cast Silencing Charms on their feet, and the two kids snuck down the stairs. Min utes later, the two flyers were in the air, pushing their brooms through an increasingly complex set of loops, sprints, and dives. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and looked up. She grinned. “I’m doing it this time.” Harry saw the naked determination in her eyes and smiled to himself. He manoeuvred his broom so they were parallel to each other. “Same as before, right?” Ginny nodded. “When we reach the level to pull up, I’ll let go of your hand.” He returned the girl’s steely stare. “You’re going to do this time, Gin. I can feel it.” With hands grasped firmly together, the two children launched themselves into the steep descent. Even at the ever increasing speeds, Harry marvelled at the illuminating light sent from the moon, making the field below almost as clear as during daytime. He snuck a quick peek at his companion. Ginny was entirely focused on the up-rushing ground. Harry returned his gaze to the field and marvelled at being able to see individual blades of grass. ‘Now!’ he thought and released his grasp of Ginny’s hand. They pulled up as if they were one entity attached by the air surrounding them. Grass brushed the bottom of his trainers. An ear-splitting, life-affirming, extraordinarily joyful, and utterly exuberant shout rent the air. “Woooo hoooo!” The two flyers quickly landed, jumped off their brooms, and literally threw themselves at each other in a dancing, hugging, instinctive celebration of their overwhelming excitement. Ginny was babbling. “I did it. We did it. You taught me. It was perfect. Merlin, that’s exciting. The ground was racing up, but I just hung on. You hung on, and I knew I could trust you. Woo hoo! Wow! This is amazing.” Ginny filled her lungs and exhaled loudly. Her smile was more luminous than the moon, as she whispered, “Thanks, Harry. You knew I could do it. Thank you.” Her eyes climbed upwards. Harry grinned. “On your own this time?” Ginny nodded, the look of determination back in her eyes. They hopped on their brooms and met above the treetops, slowly circling and enjoying the moonlit sights that stretched from The Burrow’s boundaries, past the village, and finally dissolved into darkness. The evening sky formed a canopy that seemed somehow closer and friendlier than before, as they identified the stars, planets, and constellations they knew on sight. Without a word, they pulled their brooms close to each other, and with a shared glance, set off together. The twin comets flew through the night sky, carving parallel paths as if guided by a single thought. Their actions were simple yet sublime and ultimately soaring as they mirrored each other’s movements without needing to look. The shared arc towards the ground. The mirrored turn to parallel the earth, with the reassurance of the grass beneath their feet. The banked landing — one curving to the left, the other to the right — that brought them to same spot. But mostly, the certainty that nothing would be the same again. The two children breathed deeply, while staring at each other. “That was incredible,” Ginny finally whispered. “It felt like something was guiding me,” Harry said, a puzzled tone in his voice. “Exactly,” Ginny added immediately. With another deep breath, she asked, “Do you want to talk?” They absently reached out for the other’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “Yeah,” He said, and they walked towards their tree. “Staying out late tomorrow night would be a problem.” Ginny laughed. “You could oversleep and miss the train.” “Or I could make the train, but be so sleepy I’d fall asleep at the Welcoming Feast.” “And fall into your food,” Ginny snorted. “That would make a great impression,” Harry laughed. “Especially on your face.” Ginny choked out. Harry bumped her shoulder. “Funny girl.” “Yup. They sat down under the same tree Ginny had the first time Harry had flown with her brothers. The grass wasn’t damp yet, since the weather had remained mild. The young girl took a deep breath, and the words came tumbling out. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but you already know my dad read Harry Potter stories to me a lot when I was growing up. Well, there’s more to it.” She stopped abruptly and stared into the boy’s eyes. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she repeated. The boy held out his hand and wiggled it back and forth. She slapped at it, while laughing. “Thanks a lot, Potter.” Her face turned serious again. “I’ve dreamed about you.” Harry’s eyes literally flew open. “What? You think I’m mental, don’t you?” He shook his head, a million conflicting thoughts bombarding him. Finally, he knew what he had to do. “I . . . I dreamed of you, too,” he admitted hesitantly, and watched her eyes spring open in shock. “Didn’t know it was you, just a redheaded girl. There were other redheaded people, too. Now, I know those people were you and your family” Ginny sat still, her thoughts swirling around her. All these years, she thought she had dreamed about Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. It saddened her to realize she had been dreaming about Harry, the poor boy who lost his parents and was forced to live with his Muggle relatives and no magic. Finally, she stirred. “I bet it’s from when we were babies, and our parents would get us together.” Harry nodded his head. “Yeah, makes sense.” He looked at the girl, debating whether to say what he was thinking. “It helped, you know, when I was at the Dursleys.” “Oh!” It sounded like air being sucked in. “Sorry,” she said. “I know it was tough for you.” “Yeah. But I’m with you guys now.” Ginny smiled at him. They sat in a comfortable silence, having no intention of returning to the house yet. The air surrounding them was still soft and warm, feeling like a familiar blanket. The slight breeze brought a faint scent of honeysuckle from the garden. Moonlight drifted through the leaves, creating mosaics of light and dark over both children and their surroundings. Ginny finally summoned her courage. “I’m really going to miss you.” Harry looked over quickly and noticed how tense Ginny’s shoulders looked. “I’m going to miss you, too.” He paused, then ploughed on. “You’re my best friend.” Ginny’s head snapped up and she stared at the boy. Within seconds, a warm smile had taken its place. “You’re my best friend, too.” “I’ll write everyday,” Harry said, “and tell you everything that’s going on, like we said, lessons, professors, everything.” “And I’ll write back everyday. Oh, I know. Could you leave Hedwig with us when you leave for Hogwarts? That way I can send a letter to you the first day. If I write it as soon as we get back, I bet Hedwig will be able to get it to you that night. Then you can tell me about the train ride and Welcoming Feast and your roommates. Will you leave her?” Harry smiled at Ginny’s excited eyes. “Sure. I know Hedwig would prefer to fly than to be cooped up in her cage for the entire trip.” He paused a moment. “When your dad was talking with me tonight, he reminded to talk with Professor McGonagall about the House system . . .” Harry proceeded to tell Ginny what he had discussed with Mr Weasley. When he finished, she was staring at him goggle-eyed. “Do you really think they’ll change a system that has been around for a thousand years?” Harry shook his head. “Probably not. That’s why your dad said to talk with the new students based on whether they seemed nice or not, and not to worry which house they were in.” Ginny nodded, deep in thought. “It could work with the first years. The older ones would be too set in their ways. But you could talk to the new students about classes you share.” “Study together in the library,” Harry said. “Hang out together,” Ginny added. “Eat meals together,” Harry mentioned. Ginny’s head whipped around. “Sit at another table? I don’t think that’s been done before.” Harry laughed. “Probably won’t start with that one.” Ginny joined his laughter, then quickly sobered up. “It will be four months before all of you come back for the Christmas Holidays.” Harry nodded. “It’ll go fast. Just watch. I’ll send so much homework it’ll seem like just a month since we left.” When Ginny spoke next, her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I hope you won’t forget me during that time. There will be lots of other people around, witches your own age.” Harry noticed that Ginny’s eyes had taken on a hollow cast. “Ginny, how could I forget you? You . . . uh . . . found me. This has been the best time in my life.” He shook his head and laughed. “Besides, we’ll be writing every day. How could I forget you?” Ginny smiled. “You’re right. I was just being silly.” Her smile widened. “This has been the most fun I can ever remember, with the flying.” “The pond,” Harry said quickly. “Oh, yeah, that was fun,” Ginny agreed. “The wandless magic.” “The defence classes with Professor McGonagall.” Ginny laughed. “You knocking her out — two times.” “The clothes shopping. Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.” Harry grinned at the girl. “Too late. Gringotts, with the cart ride, the dragons, all the neat stuff from your ancestors.” Harry stopped. “We should go there next Saturday. Maybe Ron and I can meet you and your parents here and use the keys to see the houses. I’ll ask your father tomorrow, and he can tell Griphook, so nothing happens when we arrive.” “Oh, Harry, that would be so much fun.” The petite girl wrapped her arms around the boy. “I can’t wait.” The two sat peacefully close to each other. Finally, Ginny said, “I guess we should go in now. From the position of the moon, it’s pretty late.” Harry reluctantly agreed, even though it had been the longest amount of time they had stayed out. Harry got up and extended his hand to Ginny to help her up. Their hands remained entwined all the way back. They returned the brooms to the shed. Harry silenced their feet when they reached the back door, and they snuck back upstairs, pausing in the hall between their two bedrooms. Harry whispered, “This was fantastic tonight. Thanks, Gin.” He smiled at his friend. “Thanks for teaching me.” She smiled wistfully. “That’s an amazing feeling.” Ginny hesitated, as if she was going to say something else. Instead, she launched herself at Harry, pecked a kiss on his cheek, and in the next second had whispered “Goodnight,” and disappeared into her bedroom. Harry stared at the closed door for several seconds, then went into his bedroom. Mr s Weasley was in her “return to Hogwarts count down” mode. It had started at breakfast and continued throughout the day. Harry wondered if it was Mrs Weasley’s way of coping with the thought of her four sons leaving for school the next day. As he had promised Ginny the previous night, Harry mentioned to Mr Weasley about going to the four houses on the following Saturday, with Mrs Weasley, Ron, and Ginny. Mr Weasley enthusiastically endorsed the suggestion, and they decided the easiest way was to have Harry and Ron Floo to The Burrow. The rest of the day was a blur of activity, mostly focused on finding everything the boys needed to take and getting them packed. The next thing Harry knew, the Weasleys and he were eating dinner. “George, Fred, do you have all your books and supplies together?” Mrs Weasley asked. Harry smiled to himself. That must be the hundredth time she’s asked them. The twins ignored the question. The obvious answer was that they hadn’t even thought of packing, since they had several more hours of freedom left. “Ron, is everything packed?” Mrs Weasley eyed him closely. Ron’s eyes darted around the room, and he mumbled something that he hoped his mum would interpret as a ‘yes.’ “Well, Harry, I bet you’re packed.” She smiled sweetly at the only non-redhead at the table. Everything was packed with the exception of what he currently had on and what he would be wearing the next day. Harry had made good use of the blood-warded compartment in his new trunk. All of his most prized possessions had been placed there — the Invisibility Cloak, the keys to the four Potter Family houses, the two advanced books from the family vault, Cunning Charms and Offensive Spells, Jinxes, and Hexes Moste Powerful, the books he had bought with Professor McGonagall, the Marauders Map, and the materials the Weasleys collected on his parents, including the pensieve and memories. Not wanting to make the others look bad, Harry just shrugged his shoulders. The twins had been whispering a lot during the day, occasionally with Ron, and it had continued into the meal time. Harry asked to be excused, and with Mrs Weasley’s nod, got up and quickly headed upstairs. His stomach was reacting again, though he didn’t know if it was from the change in diet or concerns about the new life that awaited him at Hogwarts. While Harry was upstairs, the others finished dinner. Ginny helped her mum move the dishes from the table to the sink, then headed upstairs. The boys remained at the table, still conversing quietly. Ginny had gone about halfway up the stairs, when she remembered that she had left her ponytail holder on the table. She reached the bottom of the stairs, as Harry left the loo and started to walk down the hall towards the stairs. As he passed his bedroom and Ginny’s, Harry found himself cemented to the floor. He tried repeatedly to lift first one foot, then the other, but no matter how much effort he put into it, he couldn’t move. The small boy started shaking with anger as he frantically searched for the source of the attack, while sweat beaded on his forehead and began to drip down his back. At the same time, George and Fred saw Ginny walk into the kitchen and heard angry sounds from upstairs. “Oh, no,” they chorused, as they frantically waved their wands to cancel the prank. In the seconds between realization and reaction, an explosion shook The Burrow. Ginny screamed, “Harry!” and sprinted up the stairs, closely followed by the twins and Ron, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Percy. They found Harry crumbled on the landing, fragmentary remnants of the hallway floorboards still attached to the bottoms of his trainers. He was covered by small pieces of the flooring, plus plaster and dust that had been loosened by the explosion. His arms were wrapped around his knees, which were pulled tightly to his chest. Harry rocked back and forth, humming tunelessly. His eyes were blank and unseeing. Every part of Harry — his hair, his skin, and his clothes — was a bright, mocking pink. |
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