This is the next to last chapter at The Burrow. I had intended it to be the last, but the chapter got too big. So, you will get two for the price of one. Also, the next chapter should be posted much sooner than usual.
Using Melindaleo and Arnel’s Tear Meter, out of five tissues, I’m going to give this chapter a two rating. There are two scenes – you don’t expect me to say which they are, do you? – that may bring “good” tears. Let me know, please.
For those of you who have followed the story for a while, you know that I always thank cwarbeck in this space for her much appreciated beta work. Her efforts on my behalf make this story better than it would be otherwise. Thanks, cel!
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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: 340872; Chapter Total: 14883 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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“Mr Potter, magic done with a wand is highly disciplined. There are specific movements and words that are used for each spell.” Minerva McGonagall stood in the Weasleys’ garden instructing Harry Potter, as Ron and Ginny Weasley watched from a wrought iron bench that sat at the edge of the garden. “We are not interested in that, so there will be no wand movements or words utilized in our training sessions. Instead, I want to explore how much you can do wandlessly and wordlessly, learn how much control you have, refine your skills where needed, and expand them as appropriate. “It is important for you to understand that very few adult wizards or witches can do any wandless magic, and the majority of what they can do are the easiest spells, such as Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa. “Are you ready to start?” “Yes, Professor,” Harry answered. Ron and Ginny sat as silently and as stationary as two stone statues. If truth be told, both were slightly intimidated by the austere Transfiguration Professor, who was deeply into her teaching persona, and not the heart-of-gold great aunt they had seen previously. “I have lined up three items on the table, a feather, a small rock, and a rather large rock. Please stand one metre from the table facing towards me and levitate the feather about two metres above the table.” Harry looked at the feather, pointed his hand, and raised the feather by lifting his hand slightly. The feather responded immediately, moving to the requested height before floating in mid-air. “Good, Mr Potter. If you would, continue to raise the feather in two metre increments, until it will no longer respond to your spell on it.” Harry followed the professor’s instructions until the feather literally disappeared from sight. “Please bring the feather back to the table, Mr Potter.” A few seconds later, the feather landed gently on the table top. “Could you feel any differences as the feather moved farther away?” “No,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “It’s so light it was really easy to do.” In rapid fashion, he went through the same steps with the small and large rocks. “As the distance grew, I needed to use more power, especially with the bigger rock,” Harry advised his instructor. McGonagall arched an eyebrow. “I would certainly hope so.” The tone of her remark caused Harry to look more closely at the professor. He smiled to himself when he saw the corners of her lips twitching upward and her eyes dancing. He smiled openly at the professor. “Mr Weasley, do you have a Quaffle or similar sized ball we could use next?” Ron snapped to attention. “Sure, Professor, just a minute.” He sprinted towards the shed. Disappearing inside, Ron soon came out holding two Quaffles. Returning to the group, he handed the balls to the professor and sat down on the bench. “Next, we’ll try Banishing and Summoning. Mr Potter, initially I want to see how much control you have, so don’t send them out too far, fifteen, twenty metres would be fine. Then, bring the ball back to you.” The professor set one of the balls on the ground. Harry nodded and slowly flicked his hand towards the ball. It went about twenty-five metres before stopping. Harry gestured towards himself and the ball returned to his feet. Suddenly, Harry leaned against the table, his eyes closed, and a painful grimace on his face. A second later, the professor, Ginny, and Ron had raced to his side. Harry felt sweat break out heavily all over his body, and his breath came in shallow gasps. As he became aware that people were crowded around him, he flushed crimson and stared at the table top. “Sorry. It was nothing.” Professor McGonagall started to say something, but she stopped when she saw Ginny move closer to Harry. The young girl gently placed her arm around the boy, and she whispered, “Harry, we know it was something. It’ll only hurt if you keep it inside. You’re with friends. It’s okay.” Ron said, “I’ll get something to drink for everyone,” and he ran to the house. Harry blinked rapidly before looking up. Professor McGonagall suggested, “Why don’t we sit on the bench?” Ginny guided Harry over and sat next to him, all the while rubbing his shoulders and upper back. “I was in my crib at home,” he whispered. “I would send a stuffed animal out of the crib, then bring it back from wherever it landed. One time I hit a man who had messy, black hair like mine.” Both females gasped. He continued with a rough voice. “It must have been my father.” His eyes moved from Ginny to the professor, a lost look on his face. “I was doing this magic as a baby. I never knew that before.” Ginny tightened her hug, while Minerva McGonagall moved from standing in front of the boy to sitting beside him. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I had no idea any of this would bring back memories.” He looked at the professor through watery eyes. “You couldn’t have known.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even know it. The memory just swept over me when I brought the ball back.” By the time Ron arrived with the cold drinks, Harry’s breathing had returned to normal. He quickly gave an abridged version of the story to Ron. “It looked like someone had punched you in the stomach,” Ron said. Harry smiled faintly. “That’s exactly how it felt.” Harry took a swallow of the pumpkin juice Ron had brought out, and then pressed the ice-filled glass against his forehead. His smile widened. “I have so few memories of my parents and most of them are of that night, so this is a good one to keep. I remember now that the stuffed toy I sent out of the crib at my dad was a big black dog.” “You’re feeling better now?” the professor asked. “Much better. Thank you.” “Good. Let’s start the defensive lesson after this break.” Three “greats” welcomed the professor’s comment. Soon, the professor had the three students on their feet and had started her explanation of the Shield Charm. “The Shield Charm is just that. It shields the wizard or witch from different types of spells. Unfortunately, it is not effective against any of the Unforgivables, but there is no chance those curses will be used at Hogwarts. “The charm falls into the category of strength-based, in other words depending on an individual’s magical strength and experience with the charm the shield may be stronger or weaker than someone else’s shield. The stronger the shield, the more effective it will be in stopping a spell. Even if a shield is not strong, it can lessen the strength of a spell and enable you to continue defending yourself. “There is a single word when casting the charm, and it is pronounced ‘pro-TAY-go.’ Your wand is pointed in the direction you want the shield to face. Let’s practice the charm a few times, then I will cast a few very weak stinging hexes at each of you. Ready?” The three students nodded, each with a determined look. “On three; one . . . two . . . three.” A three-part chorus of “Protego” followed the last number. “Good. Remember to point your wand directly at me, since I am the one who will be hexing you. One more time. Now.” Three cries of “Protego” split the air. “That’s better. Let’s start with Mr Potter, since he’s on the end. Mr and Miss Weasley, please pay attention to what Mr Potter does, so you can be included in the discussion of what he did right and wrong. On three, Mr Potter,” and the witch counted down the numbers. Harry’s wand flashed directly at the professor, as he shouted “Protego.” Professor McGonagall staggered backwards a few steps, while her Stinging Hex made a dull pop as it dissipated against Harry’s shield. A curious, almost irritated expression immediately crossed the professor’s face. “Mr Potter, did you do anything else to push me backwards?” Harry looked as confused by her question as Ron and Ginny did. “No, Professor, I just said and thought ‘Protego,’ like you told us.” The witch stared at the boy, deep in thought. Finally, she said, “Let’s try it again. I’m going to cast a stronger hex. Mr and Miss Weasley, would you please stand on either side on me?” They walked over and stood beside the professor as requested. “Ready?” The same thing happened, except this time three people lurched backwards several steps, and in Ginny’s case a couple more. “What did it feel like?” McGonagall asked, looking at the two Weasleys. Ron answered more quickly. “Like I was being pushed.” Ginny added, “Like a gentle shove.” “Mr Potter, continue holding the shield, please,” the professor requested. She walked forward until she literally stopped in mid-stride about a metre in front of Harry. “Drop the shield, please.” Harry did, and the witch was able to walk up to him. “This is very interesting, Mr Potter. Your Shield Charm also seems to work as a form of Stunner, which is a spell that pushes people backwards and can knock them out, if strong enough.” She paused for a second, her brow furrowed. “How much power did you put into the shield?” A puzzled expression came over the boy’s face. “I didn’t think of how much power to use. I just said the word and pointed the wand.” Professor McGonagall nodded. “At our next lesson, let’s try to do the shield wandlessly. While we do not want you to do wandless magic at school, you would gain a huge advantage if you could cast one without your wand should the situation require it. We also can experiment with the amount of power you put into it.” The professor worked with Ginny, then Ron, until their shields could stop a moderately strong Stinging Hex. After complimenting her three students on the efforts they had put forth, the professor said, “I will return in two days at nine sharp, if that meets your schedules.” Her lips quirked upwards. Harry and Ginny smiled at the witch’s subtle joke, as all three agreed enthusiastically. The professor turned to Harry. “I have something for you, Mr Potter. It is the item Professor Dumbledore mentioned that had belonged to your father.” The witch’s face clouded for a moment. She reached into her bag and brought out a large piece of shimmering material. Ron and Ginny’s eyes widened in shock. “Is that an Invisibility Cloak, Professor?” Ron asked. “Yes, it is, Mr Weasley.” The professor handed the cloak to Harry. “Mr Potter, please wrap the cloak around your shoulders so it covers your body.” Harry did as she asked and seconds later he, Ron, and Ginny gawked at the sight of Harry’s head floating in the middle of the Weasleys’ garden. “That’s wicked,” Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide. A look came over Ginny’s face that immediately reminded Harry of the twins. The young girl asked, “Can you see when the cloak is placed over your head?” “A very good question, Miss Weasley. Yes, you can. But as you just witnessed, no one can see you.” The professor’s soft expression turned stern. “Mr Potter, the cloak is being returned to you solely for the purpose of protecting you should it become necessary. It is not a toy to play silly games with. Personally, I would be very upset if students resorted to cursing another student for no reason.” She looked intently at each of them. “I trust there will be no reasons for any students wanting to curse you.” Harry looked confused. “Don’t worry, Professor. I don’t plan on doing anything to draw attention.” McGonagall’s expression softened. “I believe you, Mr Potter. If a student tries to create any problems for you, please see me immediately, rather than retaliating. That way I can go to that student’s Head of House and take care of the matter.” “I’ll do that, Professor. Thank you.” “Good. I have a second request.” Her eyes turned to the two Weasleys. “You should not loan out your cloak. You can imagine what some students would do if they could travel through Hogwarts while invisible.” The three kids smiled, and Ron whispered under his breath, “Fred and George.” “Indeed, Mr Weasley.” Her gaze returned to Harry. “Mr Potter, once school starts, I would suggest you keep the cloak with you at all times, since you’ll not know when you may need it. But please be discreet where and when you use it. I don’t want the entire student population to know you have an Invisibility Cloak. I’m sure all three of you understand why.” They nodded their understanding, and the professor asked, “Do you have any more questions?” Harry had been lightly running his fingers over the silky, feather-weight material. “This was my father’s?” The professor’s initial look of sadness quickly changed to her normal neutral expression. “Yes. I understand that he inherited it from his father. They are very rare, quite expensive, and are usually handed down from parent to child. So, do be careful with it, Potter.” “I will, Professor.” The earlier lost look returned to the boy’s face. “This is the first thing I have from my parents,” he whispered. Ginny moved closer to Harry and grasped his hand. Ron’s curious expression quickly changed to understanding when he saw Harry’s face. He took a step towards the boy and raised his hand, but then let it drop awkwardly back to his side. Harry quickly brightened. “This is great, Professor. Thank you. Please thank Professor Dumbledore for remembering this.” The professor cleared her throat. “You’re welcome, Mr Potter. I will convey your thanks to the headmaster.” Ron raised his hand again and stiffly patted Harry on the back a few times. “Hey, mate, they can’t do anything if they can’t see you.” “That is the idea, Mr Weasley,” the professor said. “I need to return to school, but I will see you in two days for more lessons. Good day, Mr and Miss Weasley, Mr Potter.” With a chorus of “goodbyes,” the professor walked to the back door. As soon as she was inside the house, Ron and Ginny clustered around Harry. “May I touch it?” Ginny asked. “Of course.” He looked at Ron. “Both of you can.” “Thanks, Harry,” Ron said. “Whoa, it’s so smooth.” Ron looked at him with an obvious question. Harry laughed. “Do you want to put it on?” Ron grinned. “You must be a mind reader.” Even though Ron was half a head taller than Harry, the cloak easily covered him. Harry and Ginny could tell he was moving around from the scuffling sound his trainers made on the dirt, but they couldn’t see anything. “Is there a spell we can put on our feet, so we won’t make any noise when we’re walking?” Harry asked. Ginny replied immediately, “With all their sneaking around, I bet the twins would know. Do you want to ask them now?” “They won’t mind us asking?” Ginny shook her head. “They’ve taught us lots of spells.” She grinned. “Amazingly, they’re pretty good teachers.” The three kids quickly made their way through the kitchen and up the stairs. As they approached the twins’ room, George and Fred’s voices could be heard but the words weren’t clear. When Ron knocked on the door, the conversation stopped instantly. Fred opened the door a few inches and looked out. “George, it’s our younger siblings, come to visit us.” Ginny asked, “We need you to show us how to do a spell. Can you teach us now?” Fred looked back into the room. “Sure. But give us a few minutes. We’ve been studying and have our books all over the place. Don’t want to get them damaged by a stray spell.” He closed the door before any of the three could respond. “I bet they weren’t studying,” Ron whispered. “More like another experiment,” Ginny said. Harry said, “I’m going to put the cloak in my room.” “That’s smart,” Ginny replied. “If they knew you had it, they’d probably want to borrow it from you.” Harry raced down the stairs and put the cloak in one of the dresser drawers, then sprinted back to the twins’ room. He arrived just as Fred opened the door. “C’mon, kiddies. What can we teach you? No Unforgivables, of course.” As he walked in, Harry noticed the room still looked like an experiment gone bad. Books, parchment, quills, cauldrons, and lots of differently sized containers were haphazardly scattered around the room. Nothing stood out, so whatever they had been doing had been hidden. The three kids exchanged glances, and Harry figured it was up to him to ask. “Would you teach us how to do a Silencing spell?” Both twins looked intently at Harry, then they looked at each other for several moments. George smiled. “Ickle Harrikins, why would you and your playmates want to learn a spell like that?” A Cheshire cat smile appeared on his face. Harry quickly answered. “Professor McGonagall said I should be careful going through school, right?” The twins nodded. “We thought this spell would help. I thought Ron and Ginny should learn it, too, since they’ll be with me sooner or later. If you’re too busy to help, I can ask Percy.” The twins exploded. “Percy?” Fred yelled. “You wound us, new bro.” George continued, “We’ve already sworn to protect you . . .” “. . . but why do you want to silence other people?” George finished. The younger kids laughed, and Ginny finally explained, “We want to silence ourselves. If someone is going to try to hex Harry, at least they won’t be able to hear him.” The twins’ eyes widened. “We’ve never thought of that before,” Fred said. “Who thought of this?” Ron patted Harry on the shoulder. “Harry did.” Fred smiled, almost evilly. “Hmm, you may be sneakier than we gave you credit for. Maybe you’re not an Ickle Harrikins after all.” Harry laughed. “Remember, my cousin and his gang used to chase me all the time, so this is kind of the same.” “Since you’ve given us a new tool to use, so to speak, we will waive our usual consulting fee as a way to express our thanks,” George said. “May we assume you want to silence your feet?” The three youngsters nodded their heads. A serious expression came over Fred’s face. “Take out your wands. The word for the Silencing Charm is . . .” Mrs Weasley’s voice reverberated up the staircase about an hour later. “Time for lunch. Wash up first.” Fred grinned. “Let’s all silence our feet. Just make sure to cancel the spell when you get to the bottom of the stairs.” The others quickly cast the spell, Harry doing his wandlessly. After washing up, they clattered silently down the stairs. Lifting the spell, they walked nonchalantly into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley started at the group walking in without the usual loud preamble. “Oh, there you are.” She looked at them quizzically, then shrugged her shoulders. “May I help you, Mrs Weasley?” Harry asked. “No . . . oh sure, why not? Just bring the platter of sandwiches to the table, along with the bowl of crisps. Thank you, dear. Ginny, would you bring the juice over?” In another minute, the food was served and conversation ceased as the kids attacked the ham and Cheddar cheese sandwiches, crisps, and sliced fruit. When lunch was finished, and the dirty plates placed in the sink, Ron looked at Harry and the twins. “We haven’t played Quidditch in a few days.” Ron’s suggestion was instantly agreed upon, until Harry spoke up. “Why don’t we have Ginny join us?” Before any of her brothers could say anything, Ginny demurred. “Thanks, Harry, but I have things I need to do with Mum.” She looked sharply at her brothers. “Maybe some other time, if someone would ever teach me how to fly.” The other boys shrugged their shoulders and headed for the back door. Harry looked at Ginny and raised his eyebrows in question. Ginny said softly, “I really do have things to do.” She smiled. “Thanks.” Harry got the feeling she was being truthful. “See you later then.” He quickly caught up with the other three. While the boys were playing two-on-two Quidditch and tag, Ginny talked to her Mum. “During our lesson with Professor McGonagall, Harry mentioned he had nothing from his parents. It made me wonder if we’d gotten any more pictures or other things of his parents.” Molly smiled warmly. “The response has been fantastic. I’ve received around a hundred pictures, five or six letters that recall events or show what James and Lily were like, and Remus has met with people to collect memories for the pensieve. He’s going to meet with Professor Dumbledore next week to collect his memories. We should be ready to give everything to Harry after that.” Molly paused, looking a bit worried. “How do you think Harry will react to getting all of these things at once when he’s never seen even one picture of his parents?” Ginny sat silently, thinking about her mum’s question. When she finally responded, it sounded like she was talking to herself. “Harry wouldn’t like it if we made a big production, with lots of people around. He’d feel self conscious and probably would leave as quickly as he could. He’d be a lot more comfortable if you, Dad, and I gave the pictures to him, especially if we told him it was okay to look at them on his own. He’ll love the pictures and other stuff. Maybe once he’s gone through everything, he’ll want to share it with us. What do you think, Mum?” Molly smiled. “I think you know Harry very well, sweetheart. After he’s gone through the pictures, maybe I can convince Remus to come here with the headmaster’s pensieve, so he can see the memories. Probably best not to give him the pictures, memories, letters, and mementos all at the same time. Plus, your dad and I have a surprise for him.” Ginny looked at her mum. “You’re not going to tell me what it is?” “No dear, it will be a nice surprise for you, too. I’m just glad I was able to Banish the pictures we had on the table when you and Harry came in. Spinning him around was quick thinking on your part. Do you want to know how you can be a big help to me again?” “How’s that, Mum?” “Do the boys’ laundry. That would give me some time to work on the album for Harry.” As Ginny walked to the laundry room, a wicked grin crossed her face. When the twins joined the rest of the family at the dinner table that night, the reason behind Ginny’s wicked grin became colourfully evident. Every stitch of clothing the twins wore was pink, not a soft pastel pink, but a shocking, iridescent, hot pink that was nearly blinding. Everyone seated at the table stared at the twins, who acted like nothing was amiss. Mrs Weasley’s glare quickly moved from George and Fred to her daughter, who was quietly chortling, as she sat next to Harry. “No wonder you were so eager to do the laundry,” Mrs Weasley said. “May I assume this is in retaliation for something the twins had done to you?” Ginny shrugged, and the twins focused intently on their dinner plates. A deathly quiet settled over the kitchen table. “Just as I thought,” Mrs Weasley said in a quiet but chilling voice. “Ginny, you get to polish the silver. Fred and George, degnome the garden, no magic and no help from Ron or Harry. I want both chores to be completed tonight.” Ginny’s head bowed, her face flushed. But the twins quickly reacted. “Tonight?” Fred whinged. “We’ll be chucking those potato sacks in the dark,” George complained. “Not if you get started right after dinner. I would recommend you stop complaining and eat quickly.” She pointed her wand at George. “Finite Incantatem.” The same spell was repeated on Fred, and their clothes returned to their normal colour. “Uh, Mum?” Ron asked, but his eyes were focused on his dinner plate. “I was part of the prank on Ginny. I just didn’t wear those clothes.” He looked at the twins, then his mum. “I should help them.” Both Mr and Mrs Weasley looked at their youngest son in surprise. “Ron,” his mother replied, “that was very, uh, honest of you.” Mr Weasley added, “It was very mature of you to admit your responsibility in the prank.” “Your offer to help the twins is appreciated,” his mum smiled, “and accepted.” Ron nodded his head while the twins gawked at him. Dinner resumed, though not quite like normal because Ron and the twins literally shovelled their food into their mouths, and Ginny was unusually quiet. When the three boys were granted permission to leave the table, the twins both caught Ginny’s eye. Fred mouthed ‘Good spell,’ and George held two thumbs up. Ginny lips curled upward in a closed-mouth smile. Harry noticed her mouth ‘Thanks,’ and the boys left the table smiling. Harry looked from Ron and the twins to Ginny and back again. They aren’t mad at each other. If I ever pranked Dudley, he would kill me, and his parents would dump me at the kerb for rubbish removal. Here, it’s a fun game with no hard feelings. Harry leaned over towards Ginny. “You’re not upset with each other?” he asked. “Nope. I knew I would be caught because the twins wouldn’t be able to resist wearing the clothes. They’ll try to prank me next. If I play it right, I’ll make sure they get caught without me having to do any chores. It’s all part of the game.” Harry just shook his head. “I guess I’ll read some of Percy’s third year Charms book.” Ginny shook her head. “Have fun.” Percy, who hadn’t said a word during the meal, stopped on his way to the stairs. “Harry, if you have any questions on any of the material, don’t hesitate to ask me.” “Thanks, Percy,” Harry replied. The tall boy nodded his head and disappeared up the stairs. Nearly two hours later, Harry went downstairs to see how everyone was doing with their chores. Ron and the twins were still degnoming the garden, and he found Ginny in the kitchen polishing silver. Two groups of silver service items sat on the kitchen table. Every piece in the much larger group shone brilliantly. Harry quickly counted the remaining pieces and was happy to see there were just four more to be polished. “Wish I could have helped you,” he whispered. Ginny’s eyes widened. “You didn’t prank them.” Harry smiled. “No, but there are three of them to degnome the garden and only one of you to do the silver.” Ginny smiled mischievously. “Well, if you help me prank them next time, maybe you will end up doing chores with me.” “Fawke s, have I inadvertently put Harry on the same path Tom Riddle has taken?” Albus Dumbledore looked at his scarlet and gold-coloured familiar. The wizard’s face was pensive, and his eyes reflected a depth of concern that was painful for the man. After the phoenix trilled several soft notes, the headmaster tilted his head towards the bird. “Well, thank you for that, my friend, however unintentional it may have been, it could very well turn out to be an unforgivable error on my part.” The phoenix issued a sharp note that caused Dumbledore to wince. “Yes, I realize Mr Potter has choices and that there are many other variables. Still, the parallels are disconcerting. Both became orphans very early in life. While Tom went to an orphanage, I wonder whether Harry would have been better served doing the same . . .” Fawkes squawked and stared without blinking, his expression showing what could only be described as outrage. “No, no, I never would have let Harry be placed in an orphanage. Nevertheless, neither boy grew up with any love in their life or any role models to emulate. Harry’s situation may even have been worse than Tom’s. Harry was with family, his mother’s sister, yet he was horribly treated, thwarted even.” The elderly wizard closed his eyes and slowly massaged the bridge of his long, crooked nose. “Why didn’t I check periodically on the boy? I have asked myself that question repeatedly, and I have yet to come up with a satisfactory answer.” He looked up at the bird, who steadily returned his gaze. “Did I presume too much? Did I naively trust in the sanctity of family? Perhaps I was too focused on the outcomes I wanted to achieve — protecting Harry through his blood relationship with his aunt, keeping him from public scrutiny and perhaps adulation, giving him a time of peace before he was thrust into the public awareness. Could these have been achieved had I only taken a few minutes of time to verify his life was progressing as it should have been?” Melodic notes filled the air in the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore smiled in appreciation at his familiar. “Don’t worry, old friend, I will not allow myself to get overwrought. “May I pose another question for you? Was I wrong to withhold the facts of his heritage from Harry?” Fawkes’ response consisted of just two notes. “Yes, I can explain more fully. With each meeting, I find more and more of his parents’ qualities in the young man. He is obviously intelligent, which is more a reflection of Lily. But there’s an uncontrolled streak that is so reminiscent of his father, not to mention he is the spitting image of James at that age. It almost took my breath away when I first saw him. But his eyes, ah, they are purely Lily’s. And his temper seems to combine both of theirs.” The headmaster shook his head. “As does his magical power. “There has been only one other student who had as much power as Harry seems to have, and that brings us back to my great concern. Only Tom possessed this level of power when he first came to Hogwarts. By placing Harry in an environment where his magic could not be expressed — indeed, be the cause of mistreatment by the hands of his guardians — did it grow much stronger than it would have had I placed him with a wizarding family? Did I somehow create the same situation that could have caused Tom’s magic to reach such a virtually unprecedented level? “I wonder if the isolation the two boys shared, the lack of knowledge they were wizards, and the absence of love in their lives contributed to their power, their anger, and their lack of social skills. Would Harry have been better served growing up with the Weasleys, the Bones, or the Longbottoms, so he could have learned about magic and his place in the wizarding world over a period of time, rather than having it overwhelm him all at once? When do I tell him of everything he must know? Alas, when and how do I tell him of the Prophecy? “From what Minerva, Molly, and Arthur have said, Harry is a wonderful young man, once you get past the understandable anger problems and lack of magical control. How can I reach him, now that he rightfully sees me as the reason behind most of the injustices in his life? How can he trust me when I’ve given him no reason to do so?” Fawkes trilled a soft melody as Dumbledore rubbed his temples. When the song was completed, the headmaster looked up. “Thank you, Fawkes, the headache has lessened considerably.” He shook his head in remorse. “I cannot help but wonder if I have set Harry on the very path that I and every other person on the Light side abhor. My friend, it has become a constant nightmare that my actions and inactions may have placed Harry on the path to becoming another Voldemort. “How do I rectify these mistakes, so Harry will forgive me? “How do I forgive myself for doing these things to the poor boy?” The activities at The Burrow had fallen into a pleasant rhythm. Three great meals a day, easy, sometimes fun chores, flying with Ron and the twins, reading Percy’s third year books, but best of all for Harry was the training. Professor McGonagall visited every other day for wandless training with Harry and defensive spells with Ron, Ginny, and Harry. With a week remaining in August, Professor McGonagall conducted a lesson in wandless spell casting using Harry’s favourite exercise. “Mr Potter, I will Disillusion myself as I have done previously. Give me a minute to change positions, then I want you to walk through the garden area. Be prepared to defend yourself.” Her mouth curved up in a closed mouth smile. “Mr Potter, please do remember that I am your professor and try not to knock me out this time.” Harry smiled back. “I’ll try, Professor, but I can’t promise it won’t happen again.” His comment received the desired response, as the professor shook her head but allowed a small smile to form. Harry knew he had to utilize what McGonagall called a “subconscious awareness.” When she had first described it, Harry immediately knew what she meant. ‘You should be able to function normally, whether in conversation, studying, or some other activity, while remaining alert to your surroundings, who is present, and which elements can be used by and against you.’ The awareness of his surroundings and the people in it was second nature to him, developed over the years by constantly having to evade Dudley and his gang. Harry started moving silently through the garden, having cast the spell on his feet and on his face to stop his breathing noises. Within his first ten steps, he knew the professor was close by and concentrated on identifying her exact location. Despite the Silencing Spell the professor had placed on her feet, Harry heard the rustle of her robes behind him and to the left. He pivoted in the blink of an eye, cast a silent Protego and in the next heartbeat directed a silent Expelliarmus at his target. The witch’s wand flew into his open hand, a second after Harry heard a painful “oof” and the sound of the professor being knocked off her feet. He raced in the general direction of his tutor. “Finite Incantatem,” he whispered. The Disillusionment Spell was eliminated, and Harry saw Minerva McGonagall slowly raising herself into a sitting position, a shocked expression on her face. Harry stood stock still, not knowing whether to apologize, help the professor up, or feel proud he had incapacitated such a powerful witch. He decided the best approach was to stand there silently. Professor McGonagall shook her head, as if to clear it of any cobwebs, then she took several deep breaths. “Help me up, please, Mr Potter.” As he moved forward, his silence broke. “I’m sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to knock you out. I heard you and just reacted.” He reached out his hand and grasped hers tightly, helping the professor to a standing position. When she started moving slowly to the wrought iron bench, Harry cupped her elbow and held her hand to help steady the elderly witch. When Professor McGonagall sat down, Harry remained standing, frozen by the inquisitive stare of the witch. Harry began to feel flush and shifted from foot to foot. “I’m really sorry, professor,” he stammered. “Pish posh. Harry, how in Merlin’s name did you do that?” Her stern expression relaxed and became more open. Harry’s eyes goggled, and his mouth hung open, incapable of uttering a single sound. Finally, he gathered up his courage. “You’re not mad at me?” The professor looked curiously at her student. “No, Harry,” she said softly. “I just want to confirm my hypothesis. Please describe what you did in as much detail as you can. You are not in trouble.” The boy heaved a sigh. “I heard the rustle of your robes, so I knew where you were.” The professor’s eyebrows arched. “I thought Protego as I turned towards you.” He stopped and looked puzzled for a second. “I used my left hand, so I could erect the shield more quickly, because that was the direction I was turning.” The statement sounded almost like a question. “When I was facing where I thought you were, I cast Expelliarmus. With my right hand?” The professor smiled widely. “Exactly. You cast two different spells, one with each hand. And, Harry, you cast them almost simultaneously. I had no time to react to your movement. Bravo, young man. That brings you to an entirely new level.” The witch slowly reached out and grasped his hand with a warm squeeze. “I am very proud of you, Harry. You have worked very hard on your lessons, and that work is paying off splendidly. Congratulations.” Harry beamed at his professor. “Thank you.” The sound of the back door opening and the shuffling of feet brought the professor and her student back to the real world of The Burrow. Professor McGonagall smiled at Harry. “It must be time for our defensive lesson,” and she turned to greet Ron and Ginny. “I still can’t believe you knocked out Professor McGonagall again,” Ginny said while shaking her head. “Well, I can’t believe you cast two spells wandlessly at one time,” Ron countered, a little more loudly than his sister. “No wonder she didn’t know what hit her.” Bang! Ron lurched backwards, but not quickly enough to stop his eyebrows from being singed by the fiery cards during their game of Exploding Snap. Ginny laughed. “That’ll teach you to not pay attention.” Harry choked back his laughter, while Ron attempted to put out the heat in his eyebrows by dipping a finger into his pumpkin juice and running it along his eyebrows. “This is probably a good time to call it a night,” Mr Weasley said as he walked over and cast a healing spell on the boy’s eyebrows. Percy and the twins already were upstairs, so the three youngest members of the family got up and headed for the stairs. “Remember to brush your teeth.” Mrs Weasley called out. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.” “Good night, Mrs Weasley,” Harry replied. “Good night, Mum,” Ron and Ginny echoed. At the landing, Ron waved as he continued up the stairs. “Good night, Gin, Harry.” The two kids stood a bit awkwardly at the landing, wanting to do or say something but not quite sure what. Ginny finally said, “Have you noticed the moon has been getting fuller? It’s becoming brighter outside each night.” “No, I haven’t noticed that.” He looked curiously at the young girl, wondering if she had any interest in astronomy. “Sometimes, I sit at my window with the lights out before getting into bed and watch the stars and the moon.” “Do you know any of the constellations?” Harry asked, feeling her initial comment now made more sense. She smiled and nodded. “Daddy, err, Dad showed me the different formations and told me what their names were. He told me the stories about each constellation. I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought it was neat.” “It takes you away?” Harry asked, taking a step towards her. “That’s it,” Ginny said excitedly. “I don’t have chores or brothers that don’t understand or . . . anything else that bothers me. There’s this huge space so far from us, but we can see, and it has shapes and forms. It does take me away.” She smiled. “That’s a good way to describe how I feel.” “You’ll have to show me the different constellations sometime.” Ginny smiled. “That would be fun.” “Kids?” They both started at the interruption. “Bedtime.” “Okay, Mum.” “Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” Harry called out. More softly, he said, “Night, Ginny.” “Goodnight, Harry.” Reluctantly, they parted and went into their bedrooms. Harry sat at the end of his bed and looked out the window. Two observations startled him. The first was close by, in fact, just outside the house. Even though it wasn’t a full moon yet, the yard was surprisingly bright. He could see the garden, the shed, even the orchard in an amount of detail that surprised him. The second was much further away. Even with the light from the waxing moon, Harry could see millions of stars, something that was impossible in the overbuilt, asphalt-covered, well lit estate that number four Privet Drive was located in. There was no debate which locale he preferred. Harry was revising the last of Percy’s third year books for the second time, when he raised his head in response to the light tap-tap-tap at his bedroom door. “Come in, Mr Weasley. The door’s not locked.” Mr Weasley entered the room and immediately noticed the book in Harry’s hands. “What are you studying this time, lad?” “Percy’s third year Transfiguration book. I was reading about trans-species transfiguration, like rabbit to snake.” Mr Weasley snorted a sharp laugh. “I would think many rabbits would meet their demise, if all of them weren’t changed to snakes at the same time.” Harry’s eyes grew wider and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. “I never thought of that.” He started laughing. “We’d all have snakes with fuzzy lumps in them.” Mr Weasley grinned. “I doubt if Professor McGonagall would have you transfiguring animals where one is a predator of the other.” Harry shook his head. “It would be an exciting class if she did.” “That it would, son.” Mr Weasley settled onto his usual end of the bed position. “Want to hear some more about your parents?” “Nah, not tonight. I’m kinda getting bored hearing about them.” Harry scrunched his nose. A second later the two wizards were laughing so hard tears streamed down their cheeks. It took them several minutes to recover. Mr Weasley heaved a huge sigh. “Good one, Harry.” He leaned forward and ruffled the boy’s hair, while the boy smiled back at him. “I wanted to tell you about your father and the wizarding sport of Quidditch.” Harry’s eyes widened again. “My dad played Quidditch?” “Indeed he did, Harry,” Mr Weasley answered. “He was a Chaser and quite a good one from what I’ve heard. No doubt you get at least some of your flying ability from him. I know you are familiar with the different positions, but let me see if I can explain their roles in a real game, rather than your two-on-two contests in the paddock area.” Mr Weasley launched into his story to his highly appreciative audience, ending nearly thirty minutes later with, “Your father made the team in his fourth year, which is somewhat unusual, since most of the teams are dominated by students in the upper form.” “Upper form?” Harry looked puzzled. “Oh, that term is not used too often anymore. It refers to students in the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. One last tidbit, then it’s lights out, my boy.” Harry smiled at the man. “All of our family — Mrs Weasley and I and all of our children so far — have been Gryffindors. “You’re familiar with the House system at Hogwarts, right?” Harry nodded his head. “Good. Well, Bill played Keeper, Charlie was a Seeker.” Mr Weasley smiled proudly. “Many people say he was the best Seeker they ever saw. And you know the twins are Beaters. Only Percy hasn’t played. Your parents were Gryffindors, too, though your mum easily could have been in Ravenclaw, because she was very intelligent.” The man smiled. “But that is a story for another night.” Harry looked up at the man. He was wearing a royal blue sweater vest, despite the summer warmth, along with an open-collared long-sleeved white shirt and dark grey trousers. He wasn’t handsome or powerful or brilliant, but in Harry’s eyes Mr Weasley was perfect, exactly what a father should be. “Thanks, Mr Weasley.” Harry leaned forward for what had become their nightly hug, with his arms going around the wizard’s lower back and the man’s arms encircling the boy’s shoulders. When they broke the hug, Harry said, “I really like hearing your stories.” He ducked his head and mumbled, “It helps a lot hearing about them. They’re real people now, even if I only have the dreams to know what they look like.” Arthur Weasley smiled to himself. “It’s my pleasure, Harry.” “May I ask a question about the Houses?” the boy asked. “Of course, lad. What do you want to know?” “Why do they split the students based on personalities?” Harry asked. Mr Weasley blinked several times. “That is an excellent question, Harry.” He paused for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “The four founders of Hogwarts — Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin — each had different personal qualities, and they each sought to bring students that possessed those qualities into their houses. Eventually, they realized there had to be an objective way to continue the selection process once they had passed away, and Gryffindor charmed his hat to do the job. To this day, the same House system is used, and it is the basis for where and who you live with, the Quidditch matches, and for determining the winner of the House Cup.” The man smiled at Harry. “During your first evening at Hogwarts, all the first years will go through the Sorting Ceremony. Gryffindor’s old hat is still used. Merlin, it must be around a thousand years old now. The student places the hat on his head, and the hat determines which house will be the best fit for that student. Once it decides, the hat shouts out the house name and the student goes to that table.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “The selection is still based on the qualities the four founders wanted?” “That’s right.” “Why?” Mr Weasley looked confused. “I, uh, I don’t understand your question, Harry.” The boy continued to look like he was deep in thought. “The students in each house all have the same qualities, right?” “Well, yes, certainly their dominant qualities are similar.” Mr Weasley continued to look puzzled. “Isn’t that limiting, when all the same types of people are put into one house and compete against students with other qualities in Quidditch and this House Cup you mentioned?” A look of understanding grew on Mr Weasley’s face. “That is an excellent thought, Harry.” The man continued speaking, but this time it was almost to himself. “By keeping personality types separate, the students are hindered from becoming well-rounded. In fact, students with other qualities become the opponent, whether it’s in sports or academics.” Mr Weasley’s eyes brightened. “Harry, do you know that most of . . .” He took a deep breath, “Vol . . . Voldemort’s Death Eaters came from one House?” Harry nodded his head. “Slytherin. That’s what started me thinking about this. I wondered why the students weren’t divided by year like they do in Muggle schools, or alphabetically or just randomly. First in line goes to Gryffindor, second to Ravenclaw, until they are all assigned.” “This is very perceptive, Harry,” Mr Weasley said. “I would recommend that you speak to the headmaster or Professor McGonagall about these ideas. I must caution you, however. It has been done this way for a thousand years and reflects what the four founders wanted for their school. So, don’t be surprised if you receive an answer along those lines.” Mr Weasley lowered his voice. “If you do get that type of answer, do you want to hear what I would suggest?” Harry eagerly nodded his head. “Start breaking down the House structure yourself.” Harry’s eyes got big, and the man laughed. “Not literally or by yourself, lad. But talk to members of the other Houses, try to make friends with those you find interesting. But please be aware that there are some students who will want to befriend you solely because of who you are.” Harry’s head dropped. “Chin up, Harry.” Mr Weasley reached over and lifted the boy’s head so they were looking eye to eye. “You have excellent instincts and will be able to determine who is a friend and those who just want to be associated with you due to your fame.” The man’s voice softened. “I’m sorry that’s the case, lad, but it is something you will need to deal with, and my suggestion is to meet it head on.” Harry smiled faintly and Mr Weasley ruffled his hair. “You will find very good friends throughout each house. But it will be up to you to make the effort, to not isolate yourself, or become angered over the attention you will receive.” Mr Weasley shook his head and smiled. “I hadn’t intended to discuss that last bit until the night before you left for school.” Harry could see the man’s body relax. “But this time seemed appropriate. What do you think, son?” Harry thought through what Mr Weasley had said. “It will be hard.” He looked at the man. “It’s hard for me to make friends. I couldn’t at school or in the neighbourhood. Dudley would see to that, and I didn’t want kids to get hurt.” Mr Weasley’s expression turned angry, then sad. “Harry, Dudley Dursley will not be at Hogwarts, and his parents are no longer part of your life. In case you’ve not noticed it, you’ve made friends with each of our sons here and very much so with our daughter. You can count on their support at school. Well, except for Ginny, of course.” The man moved up the bed towards Harry, until he was close enough to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know it won’t be easy, but you don’t have to hold back anymore. You won’t be punished for being yourself, for being smart, for being a nice young man, for being powerful magically, or for being known for something you did as a baby. Harry, that’s who you are. Don’t let other people make you less than you can be. “Will you do that for me?” Harry lunged towards the man, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could, and feeling the man respond immediately with a warm, fatherly hug. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and gave in to the wonderful feeling. A warmth grew inside him until every part of his body was encompassed by it. They remained in their embrace until Harry felt the warmth — the truth behind the man’s words — had become a part of who he now was. I have a family. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re welcome, son. We’ll always be here for you.” The man and the boy finally released their embrace. “Have a good sleep,” the man said while getting up. “I’ll see you in the morning.” They smiled at each other. “Goodnight,” the boy said. Harry soon fell asleep and immediately started dreaming a confusing mixture of flying when he was a toddler, while surrounded by his parents and other people, including a number with red hair, and playing Chaser as a young man in a Quidditch match in a huge stadium. Even though he was dreaming, Harry was confused by the stadium since he’d never actually seen one before. He felt free and extremely excited. The people in the stands were blurs, because he was flying so fast. Harry moved around the other team’s defenders as if they were stationary. The Quaffle was tucked under his right arm, as he broke into the open, with only the Keeper between him and the golden rings. Harry faked right, then cut sharply to his left. When the Keeper committed to the ring on the left, Harry swerved a second time and smiled at how open the right ring was. He tossed the ball in underhanded, and a roar from the crowd made him smile. As he circled the stadium, he could hear the fans screaming his name over and over, ‘Harry, Harry . . .’ “Harry?” The boy became confused because the sound didn’t come from the stadium. Instead, it came from someone close by. Ginny’s soft voice reached his ears. Harry grabbed his glasses and could make out her form through the light and shadows created by the nearly full moon. He sat up and stared in her general direction. “I . . .” her voice was hesitant, not the normal confident tone he associated with the girl. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go flying.” “What?” he asked a tad too loudly. “Shhh,” she said, walking closer to the bed. “I can fly. No one knows. I fly at night. Would you fly with me?” The boy smiled and nodded his headed enthusiastically. He quickly decided to focus on Ginny and flying, and to save his discussion with her father for another time. Harry’s eyes had adjusted to the soft yellow moonlight filtering into his bedroom, and he could see Ginny had on pyjamas and a robe, so he reached for his robe at the end of the bed. The two youngsters tiptoed out of the bedroom and down the stairs, skipping the squeaky third step. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Ginny put her finger to her lips and peeked into the sitting room, even though no light came from the room. Then, she gestured towards the back door, and they sneaked out. Once outside, Ginny whispered, “I’ve sneaked rides on their brooms since I was six, usually around the full moon, so it’s lighter outside.” They reached the shed, where the brooms were kept, and Harry saw a large lock holding the two doors together and blocking their entry. A wave of disappointment swept over him. Ginny turned to him, smiling. “Don’t worry. I know the spell to unlock things. Would you do it for me, Harry?” “Sure.” “Just say or think Alohomora,” she said. The boy pointed his hand at the lock and thought ‘Alohomora.’ A second later, it opened. “Thanks, Harry!” Ginny pulled the lock off the hasps and opened the doors. Harry went in and grabbed the two best brooms, and Ginny closed the doors, reinserting the lock but not closing the clasp. As soon as Ginny joined him and they had started walking towards the paddock area, Harry whispered, “I was dreaming about flying and Quidditch. I was a Chaser, just like my dad.” Ginny smiled. “That’s a good dream.” Harry nodded his head. “I’d just scored, and the crowd was chanting my name. Then, I heard you whispering my name. It felt strange to go from the dream to seeing you standing there.” Ginny play scowled. “Are you saying I’m strange, Potter?” Harry snorted. “I think I am, Weasley,” and he started running towards the paddock, while laughing loudly. Ginny chased after him. In another minute, they were standing on the still dry grass of the paddock. Harry’s expression turned serious. “You’ve learned to fly on your own?” Ginny nodded her head. “I’ve watched my brothers for years. Bill and Charlie are excellent flyers. They’d let me sit on the broom with them when Mum and Dad weren’t around.” She threw her long hair back with a flip of her head. “I’m a good flyer, if that’s what you’re really asking.” Harry smiled. “I bet you’re really good.” Ginny’s expression quickly relaxed. “Thanks, Harry. I just need to tie my hair, then we can kick-off.” Soon, they were flying in the warm summer night, bathed in the moon’s light, and laughing loudly in pure joy. Harry kept a close eye on his friend during the first few minutes they were in the air. Ginny’s a better flyer than Ron and probably as good as the twins. He smiled. She flies the way I feel when I’m on a broom. It’s the best feeling I know, like nothing can touch me. Flying’s just a part of me, I guess. His eyes widened. Whoa! That’s the first time I’ve ever thought like that . . . “Harry, are you okay?” Ginny had flown next to him, when she saw Harry slow down and a look of deep concentration come over his face. He smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking.” Ginny grinned. “No wonder I didn’t recognize the look on your face.” Harry snorted. The redheaded girl inched closer to his broom. Reaching out quickly, she touched his shoulder. Before he could react, she said, “You’re it,” and rocketed away, laughing loudly. Harry quickly got over the adrenaline rush of being tagged, then laughed to himself and shot after her. The cat-like quickness and sensitivity to his surroundings honed by evading Dudley and his gang quickly translated to flying. His timing, instinctively knowing what to do and when, was second nature to the boy as he flew through the open paddock area, impressed by how fast and fluidly Ginny flew. The two children raced after each other, tagging and being tagged, then flying together, trying to mirror what the other was doing and laughing when they separated. They carved figure eights, did loops together, and tried to mirror each other in barrel rolls. After the last roll, Harry caught Ginny’s eye and looked up. She nodded and they rocketed straight up, well past the tree line. Suspended above the trees, floating effortlessly, the two kids looked around. The only light they could see, other than the moon’s, came from a few street lamps in the nearby village of Ottery St Catchpole. The stars formed a canopy above their heads. Both children smiled widely. “Thanks for inviting me, Gin.” He pulled the Cleansweep closer to her and held out his hand. She grasped it, interlacing her fingers through his. “It’s the first time I’ve flown with anyone.” “First time I’ve flown at night.” He smiled mischievously. “Wronski Feint?” Ginny goggled at him. “Are you insane?” He grinned. “My relatives think so.” In the next instant, he had slipped his hand out of Ginny’s and pointed the broom downward. Harry looked over his shoulder at the disbelieving girl. “Coming?” A blurred second later, he was hurtling towards the grass-covered earth below. Ginny shot after him but at a somewhat slower pace. With the light from the moon, Ginny could see Harry perform the Feint, her heart in her mouth, until she saw him pull up on the broom so he paralleled the grassy surface. It looked as if his trainers were skimming the top of the grass. Seconds later, she was on the ground yelling at the grinning boy. “You are insane. You could have killed yourself. There’s no way you could tell when to pull out. What if I had to get Mum and Dad if you’d ploughed yourself? You would have been halfway to . . . I don’t know where. It doesn’t matter. There would have been nothing left of you. Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again. Harry Potter. Do you understand me?” Harry ducked his head. “Sorry, Gin.” But when he looked up, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. Ginny’s eyes got wide, and she lightly swatted his arm. Seconds later, she joined his laughter. When they finally calmed down, she asked, “Merlin, Harry, how do you do that? I could barely see the ground from up there.” He shook his head. “Dunno. I just know when.” A thoughtful expression came over his face. “Maybe I could teach you. Would you like that?” Ginny smiled. “Just as long as you don’t plough me too often.” “Fair enough.” He looked at her. “Could I ask a favour?” She looked at him curiously. “Sure.” “Would you teach me some stuff about the stars?” “Sure,” she said excitedly. Ginny grabbed his hand and pulled him by the tree she sat at the first time he flew with her brothers. “Lay down.” He did, and she quickly joined him. “Mars is bright tonight,” Ginny said nonchalantly. Harry looked at her in surprise. “You know which of those stars is Mars?” “Sure, but it’s a planet, not a star.” Ginny started laughing before Harry could say anything. She moved closer to him, so she could point out the planet. “Go straight up over the centre of the tallest tree on the far side of our property.” She gestured in that direction. “It’s still pretty early, so it will be low in the sky. See it?” “Yeah. It is bright, now that you point it out.” He paused. “Would you point out some of the constellations your dad showed you?” Ginny turned her head towards Harry. “You really want to know? You’re not just having me on?” He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his upraised hand, so he could look directly at the young girl’s face. “I wouldn’t take the mickey out of you about this. Your dad taught you about the constellations and planets.” They both ghosted small smiles. “Besides, I think it’s brilliant that you know about this stuff.” Her smile made the moon look pale in comparison. “Okay. Sirius is known as the Dog Star. It’s located . . .” After showing Harry three constellations, accompanied by an increasing number of yawns from both of them, Ginny said, “It must be getting late. We probably should go in.” Harry faked a snore. “Prat,” she said, nudging his shoulder. His head popped up. “Yup.” He grinned as he stood up and extended his hand to help Ginny. Once she was upright, Ginny stretched, reminding Harry of how a cat stretches after a nap in a pool of sunshine. “Thanks for the astronomy lesson,” he said. “My pleasure, kind sir,” she replied and gave him a small curtsey. “You’re a good student, Mr Potter.” Harry picked up the two brooms and slung them over his shoulder. As they walked down the path that took them back to The Burrow, one hand grasped the other, though neither child showed any signs of being aware of the action. |
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