CHAPTER 2
As Ron began to explain, he was interrupted by Fred and George muttering something about opening the shop, and Dissapparated. A bouncing, squeaky noise was heard from the stairs, and a ball of black fur, barely bigger than Crookshanks tumbled over to Harry, who petted it absentmindedly, as Ron filled him in on the events of the past four weeks.
“So, basically,” he said, “Fred and George went on holiday to America, and brought back that,” he said, pointing with a bit of distaste at the ball of black fur. “His name is Wolf,” at the sound of his name, Wolf, who was a small puppy with shining dark eyes, “and like everyone else here, he’s a complete git.”
Harry scratched the dog behind one ear. The puppy reminded him painfully of Sirius. Still, he was friendly, and seemed to notice the barely discernable change in Harry’s mood and licked his hand. Harry smiled down at the dog, and said, “So, what was all the screaming about?” he looked at Ron inquisitively.
Ron looked slightly less disgusted. “That’s…” and he was cut off, again by Mrs. Weasley bustling into the kitchen.
“Boys, I have to go to Grimmauld Place until late. When I get back, we’ll have a proper reception for Harry’s birthday,” beaming down at him, but also with a hint of worry. “Enjoy yourselves this afternoon, and don’t cause too much trouble. I’m leaving you in the very capable hands of Gerty and Fleur.” And with that, she Dissaparated.
Harry looked at Ron, and rather perplexed he asked, “Gerty?”
There was no need for an explanation from Ron however, because at that very moment, they heard a girl’s laughter, and sliding into the room was a tall, merry witch with hair curlier than Hermione’s. She was followed by Ginny, who grinned, and addressed Harry, “Morning Harry,” she blushed undiscernibly. This is Gerty,” she gestured to the witch who giggled again and bowed to Harry. Gerty then busied herself washing the breakfast dishes, and with a wave of her wand, they were merrily washing themselves. She danced around the kitchen, singing to herself.
Harry looked back at Ron who explained, “Gerty is an Auror in training from America. She’s going to be helping us, and…” Ginny whispered something to Gerty. They both giggled.
Ginny scampered back up the stairs, flashing a smile at Harry as she disappeared. “Bloody girls… Anyway, Gerty is George’s girlfriend,” muttered Ron as he went back to his breakfast. “Wolf’s hers. She’s nice enough, but I’ve never seen George like this before. Lost his bleeding marbles.”
Harry smiled at his bemused friend. His eyes followed Gerty’s dreamy movements around the kitchen before he said, “Want to play a bit of Quidditch this afternoon?”
Ron brightened up a bit. “Brilliant… I’ll ask Ginny if she wants to Chase,” he rose from the table, and Harry followed suit, Wolf scampering happily behind them.
They made their way up the winding, twisting steps of the Burrow. They passed Fred and George’s room, where there were giggling noises, and tiny explosions coming from under the door. Harry and Ron quickly and quietly snuck past the door, past Ron’s room, and up to the stairs to Ginny’s room. Ron knocked quickly and said, “Oy, Ginny, how ‘bout some Quidditch?”
Ginny poked her head out the door. Her red hair was in a shining plait down the side of her head, and gave her a bit of a lopsided look, that matched her grin, “Sure,” she said, “I’m just sending a letter with Pig. I’ll get changed and come down in a moment.” With that she slammed the door. Ron turned to look at Harry.
“Lost her marbles, too,” he shook his head. “Sending an owl to Dean twice, three times a week. I’m about ready to set him in his right. If he sets one hand on her…” he punched his own hand into his fist, as he and Harry descended the staircase.
Harry was glad to be back at the Burrow. He felt a small black hole in his stomach, the feeling that had not been quelled since the incident in the Department of Mysteries. Even though the Dursleys weren’t the most stimulating company, they at least didn’t remind him of Sirius every time he turned a corner. Harry turned a corner down the stair case, and promptly ran into Ron’s back. Ron had stopped outside his own bedroom door and was fumbling with the rusty knob. The door creaked open, and Harry was greeted with the sight of his trunk sitting at the end of his cot, all made up, in the corner of Ron’s fiery orange room. The Chudley Cannons gazed happily and waved from their poster alongside Ron’s own bed.
Ron himself had begun to rummage about his closet and retrieved his broomstick, and a slightly mangled Quaffle.
Harry had gone about to opening his trunk, and removing his Firebolt with care. There were deep gouges on the handle from being chained in Umbridge’s office during the past year.
He had spent a good two weeks of the holiday clipping bent twigs and polishing the handle to return it to top condition. ‘Hope this still flies alright,’ he thought to himself.
“Tough break, mate,” Ron looked up from his search for his trainers. “That broom looks like a troll got at it.”
Harry squinted his eyes, and looked up. “Give Umbridge a few more inches and a club, and I’d say that’s exactly what she was.”
The boys erupted in peals of laughter at the image of the former vile headmistress, green and warty, holding a large club. Just then, Ginny entered the room, holding her broomstick. “Are you two coming? Or am I going to Chase and Keep?” her voice dripped of mock indignity.
The boys smiled, grabbed their brooms and ran out of the room, leaving Ginny at the top of the stairs. She slowly descended the stairs, shaking her head at the boys. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, she was held up by Ron and
Harry who had stopped on the first and second stair, respectively. Fleur, Gerty, and Bill were bustling around the kitchen, magicking things around. The wireless was on, and Fleur and Gerty were singing along. Fleur turned around and
Gerty pointed her wand at the dishrag, full of soap and bubbles. She muttered something, and the rag hit Fleur in the back of the neck. Fleur screamed, and grabbed the rag and chased Gerty ‘round the kitchen till she cornered her, cowering behind Bill, giggling madly. Bill chuckled, and poked his wand at a bunch of grapes that began pelting both the girls.
Suddenly, Bill noticed the three younger people in the room. “We’re making lunch,” he said slyly. “You three go out and play.” He winked at Ginny, and went back to the counter. As Harry, Ron, and Ginny made it out of the kitchen door, they heard more splashing and shrieking.
Ron shook his head. “You’re lucky Harry. They’ve been at this for a week now,” he mounted his broom and pushed off.
Harry and Ginny, laughing, followed.
After a very exciting match that lasted over two hours, the two Weasleys, followed closely by Harry were met with something of a surprise at the kitchen door.
Hermione looked at them severely. “Ronald, I thought I could rely on you to tell your brother your whereabouts, so I don’t have to search all over creation, to only find you playing Quidditch,” she glared at him. Something in the gleam in her eye told Harry that perhaps Hermione wasn’t quite as angry as she let on.
Ron blushed a bit and shuffled his feet. He craned his head up to look at Hermione with all the vindictiveness he could muster without giggling and said, “Gee, Professor McGonagall, you sure have grown a bit over the summer…”
Hermione laughed merrily and hugged Ron and Harry. The friends grinned at each other, glad to be back together under such lighthearted circumstances.
Ginny pushed her way between Harry and Ron, and grabbed Hermione by the elbow, wheeling her back inside. “Let’s go help Gerty and Fleur with lunch,” she said, looking back over her shoulder, “And you two can go wash up,” her eyes glittered with the Weasley mischievousness as Harry and Ron were victim to a surprise attack of washrags from all directions, with Bill, Gerty, and Fleur erupting into laughter from behind a cupboard.
Harry and Ron put their brooms away and changed out of their sweaty robes. “Did you know she was coming?” Harry asked.
“I didn’t. I have the feeling Ginny invited her…” Ron trailed off, a dreamy sort of look on his face. “But it’s nice to be back together again,” he continued, the dreamy look sliding away as he straightened up and headed for the stairs.
Harry pursued Ron down the stairs. He was violently interrupted, however, when Ginny knocked him aside, tears streaming down her face, a bit of parchment clutched in her hand.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. They sprinted down the remaining stairs.