Harry rolled over in his sleep. The moonlight from the window cast a pale rectangle on his bed. He was gently awoken by the whoosh of Hedwig’s wings as she landed softly on the windowsill. He blearily opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. The green glowing numbers stated a fuzzy 2:43. He put on his glasses and untied the letter from Hedwig’s leg. She hooted softly at him, before sleepily nestling in her cage to rest. He smiled. The letter was addressed in Ron’s loopy handwriting. He opened it hastily and read…
Oy, Harry,
Since your birthday tomorrow, er, today, er, now, sort of, we’ll be by to get you in the morning. Don’t worry about the Muggles, Dad has promised not to blast anything this time.
-Ron
Harry smiled. He stretched out in his bed, hands behind his head. It had started out as a very pleasant birthday, and he hoped nothing would ruin it, this year at least. He sighed and nodded off again.
Harry awoke as the early dawn light was beginning to creep its way into his tiny bedroom. His dreams had been blissful and uninterrupted in the past few weeks, owing most likely to the potent calming draught he had received at the beginning of the summer. Dealing with Sirius’s death had been rather difficult during his waking hours, and he was glad Dumbledore had thoughtfully taken a measure to protect his sleep. Not only that, he was no longer being penetrated by Voldemort during those precious unconscious hours. Harry felt more refreshed than he had in months.
He hastily began to dress and pack his trunk. His books and clothes were in the usual disorderly fashion, sprawled about his room, on his bed, spilling out of his closet. His things sorted, and in neat piles, he crept downstairs to the lull of the Dursley’s snores.
His previous expeditions to the fridge this summer had not been fruitful; most of the food was for Dudley’s weight training. He located an apple, and happily munched on it as he watched the sun pop over the horizon. As the sun began to move, and the clouds to change, Harry spied a flock of birds flying towards him.
As they got closer, he realized that they were not birds, but rather a half dozen broomsticks, carrying, if he was not mistaking, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebot, Mad-Eye Moody, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delecour, and Ron. They landed in the strictly partitioned Muggle backyard, all dismounting with ease. Mad-Eye cast a disapproving look at Ron, who ran up to the door, which Harry was opening, and slapped his friend on the back.
“Hey, Harry!” Ron grinned, “Hope the Muggles haven’t been treating you too bad.”
Harry grinned. Tonks, whose hair was a violent shade of red, a near-Weasley red, all told, giggled, and gave Harry her usual salutations and a wink. Harry had no time to think about her unusual behavior before Moody whisked them all inside.
“All packed then?” he growled. Harry nodded. “Locomotor trunk,” he murmured. Harry’s trunk came floating downstairs, as Bill chimed in with the incantation to retrieve a slightly disgruntled Hedwig and her cage.
“Moody didn’t want me to come, ruddy bastard,” whispered Ron to Harry. “I pleaded with Bill, and he gave in. Moody still isn’t too keen on the whole idea…” Ron trailed off, as Kingsley sent them a meaningful look.
They all mounted their brooms. A shower of green sparks was hanging high in the early morning sky. “Better be off, then,” Moody looked at Bill and Fleur. “You two go first, and scout out the skies. Send more sparks when all is clear.” He grumbled and cleared his throat, while he rummaged through his cloak, and brought out a bit of parchment. He pointed his wand at it, and murmured an incantation. It zoomed back in the house, closing the door behind it. “Can’t have your aunt and uncle worrying about you,” he said with a drop of sarcasm. "There are the sparks from Bill, let’s go.”
The remaining five of them pushed off the ground, Harry’s trunk in tow, Hedwig soaring beside them.
“Where are we going?” Harry asked Ron in a loud whisper.
“We’re going to the Burrow for the time being,” answered Moody, “until further plans are made. I daresay Molly will be happy to see you.”
The sun continued to make its way across the sky, and it was fully nine in the morning when they touched down outside the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley came running out and wrapped Harry in a smothering mother-hug.
“Harry dear! I’m so glad you made it! Happy Birthday!” The words seemed to fall out of her mouth all at once as she rushed him into the kitchen. There, set on the table were all the things Harry loved to eat, and the apple seemed ages ago. Harry smiled.
“Thank you, I’m really starving…”
“Of course you are dear, you’re skin and bones,” Mrs. Weasley fretted as she ushered him into a chair and heaped his plate with food. Ron and the others began to sit down, fill their plates, and chat quietly. Ron seemed to have grown nearly three inches over the summer, and towered over the already dwarfed kitchen. He grinned at Harry, and helped himself to some bacon.
Ron leaned in to Harry, and said; “You won’t believe where Fred and George went… or what they brought back with them…” he trailed off for the second time this morning, this time with a disapproving look from Mrs. Weasley. He crammed a little more bacon into his mouth and began to get up. “Ifth gotch cher brifday preshrink, horld orn.” Ron left the room.
Harry looked around the room again. Bill and Fleur were talking in hushed voices by the sink, each with a mug of tea in their hands. Kingsley was saying good-bye to Mrs. Weasley and Moody, and quickly Dissapparated with a Crack!. Tonks seemed to be enjoying her breakfast; in fact she was eating so fast, Harry could have sworn she was banishing it with her wand every few seconds.
“Wotcher, Harry. Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” she said between mouthfuls. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer… special assignment… from Dumbledore…” she grinned and turned the trademark Weasley shade of scarlet that seemed to be paired with her current hair color. “Can’t say no more,” she winked. “See you later, probably," and Dissapparated.
There was a loud crash, a girl screaming, and then the sound of Ron bounding downstairs. He seemed to have inherited the scarlet blush as well this morning. “Bloody Fred and George. Here’s your present,” he said as he crammed a small, poorly-wrapped present into Harry’s hand.
“Thanks, Ron,” Harry said as he opened it. It was a bottle of ink, but on closer inspection as he stared at the label, he saw the insignia on it: Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harry chuckled, and asked, “What’s the joke with it?”
Ron smiled and said, “Oh, it’s really great… it…” his voice trailed off as his gaze shifted to the stairs. There was another great crash, and then a screaming girl’s voice, a higher calming girl’s voice shouting, and two cracks! as Fred and George apparated into the kitchen. The looks on their face were equal to the look of terror one might experience with a dementor attack. Ginny’s voice, now recognizable, shouted down the stairs.
“George! You get back here, and apologize. I will Bat-Bogey Hex you into oblivion if you make her cry again!”
Harry looked at Ron, bewildered. Ron looked tired. “Let me tell you the story from the beginning…”