VII. ...And So Does Harry

Everyone slept in the next morning. The sun was already shining brightly down on the Burrow by the time Harry finally pulled himself out of bed. He pulled on his jeans and the new sweater from Dobby, and almost put on his new boots, before deciding to save those for the first day back to Hogwarts. After lacing up his trainers, he ambled downstairs to see if anyone was up.

He was surprised to see Hermione seated at the kitchen table, nose in a book as usual. "Hermione? When did you get here?" he asked.

The bushy-haired girl looked up with a smile. "Hi Harry! Just a few minutes ago...came by Floo." She shuddered. "That's the last time I use Floo powder to make an intercontinental trip."

Harry blinked. "You mean you came here by Floo from Australia?"

Hermione nodded. "Mum and Dad are headed home today, and agreed to let me come visit for a bit. Mr. Weasley's working on getting our house hooked up to the Floo network so I can come and go as I please. My parents say they don't mind driving me about, but I can tell they're a bit relieved all the same." She cast an appraising eye at Harry's jumper. "Where on Earth did you get that?"

Harry laughed. "Birthday present from Dobby. A bit loud, isn't it?"

"Only just," Hermione said with a smile.

Ron shuffled into view then, still yawning. "Mornin' Harry, Hermione..." He blinked. "Hermione?"

"Good morning, Ron," she said.

Ron seemed about to ask something, thought better of it, and shook his head. "I haven't missed breakfast, have I?"

"Ready in a minute, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called. She rushed into the house carrying a basket of eggs and looking rather harassed. "The hens are of a temper this morning..."

"That'd be my fault, I expect," Sirius' voice called from the door to the living room. He grinned at everyone. "Gave 'em a bit of a scare last night."

The group spent a while chatting at the table as Mrs. Weasley cooked breakfast. Hermione and Ron wanted to know all about what Sirius had been up to, Ron and Harry wanted to know about Hermione's holiday in Australia, and Hermione wanted to know all about what Harry and Ron had done all summer. Harry endured a round of good-natured teasing from Ron and Sirius when the photos of him dancing with Cho were brought out; thankfully, Hermione just smiled and said it was nice that Harry was having a proper summer for once.

The year's Hogwarts letters arrived toward the end of breakfast. Harry noticed immediately that his was rather thicker than normal, and quite a bit heavier. "Hello," he muttered as he opened the envelope.

Hermione, across the table from him, had already spread the contents of her letter out before her, and smiled as she saw the gleaming red-and-gold badge included in her envelope. "Congratulations, dear," Mrs. Weasley said to her with a smile. "I had a feeling you'd make prefect."

Hermione turned as red as the Weasleys' hair.

"I wouldn't want to be prefect," Ron said, stuffing his face with a bacon and egg sandwich. "Bloody hassle, it is. You wouldn't want to be a prefect either, would you Harry?" When no answer was forthcoming, he turned to nudge his friend in the shoulder. "Oi, Harry! You wouldn't, would you?"

Harry looked slowly up at Ron, then around the table, then back down at his envelope, eyes unusually wide. His next words came out as a muted whisper. "I am."

He took the prefect badge from his envelope and held it up for all to see.

Ron choked.

* * * * *

"Congratulations, Harry!" Sirius said, thumping Harry on the back and grinning. "James would be proud."

"Yes, congratulations, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile.

Harry stared at the scarlet-and-gold badge, its large letter 'P' gleaming up at him. "But...me? I mean, a prefect? Me?" He shook his head. "This has to be a mistake. How d'you reckon I'm fit to be a prefect?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, I don't see what you're making a fuss about. True, you have a certain disregard for the rules, but..."

"Your father was Head Boy, Harry," Sirius said. "And you know the sort of mischief he got up to. I reckon your professors can spot..." He trailed off, and glanced at Ron. "Well, it can't always be easy to choose, among talented students."

Ron noticed the way Sirius, Harry, and Hermione were looking at him, and laughed. "What, do I have something on my nose? Congratulations, Harry. Better you than me...or Neville. Can you see Neville as a prefect?"

They all had a laugh at that; Neville Longbottom was rather notorious for his terrible memory and poor magical ability. For the rest of the day, however, Harry and Hermione made it a point not to mention anything concerning prefects to Ron; after the way he had reacted to Harry's being chosen as a Hogwarts champion in the previous year's Triwizard Tournament, neither were willing to bring about another term of Ron refusing to speak to Harry.

That night, as they prepared for sleep, Ron called from his blazingly orange bed, "Hey, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"I meant it when I said I'm happy for you, being a prefect. I'm not stupid enough to hold it against you. Not after last year. I've learned to live with the fact that you stand out and I don't."

Harry didn't answer for a moment. Then, he sat up in his camp bed, and said, "Ron...thanks. And you know, there's nothing all that special about me. I wouldn't be half the wizard I am without you and Hermione. My friends are worth more to me than a hundred prefect badges."

Ron's ears turned pink.

* * * * *

She stood waiting under a halogen lamp, wearing a blue sundress and matching slippers. Her eyes twinkled; she looked at him expectantly, her posture demure.

He walked toward her, watching the ripple of her dress in the slight breeze, the way the glow of the lamp highlighted the diaphanous nature of the material, revealing the tantalising silhouette of her body just beneath the thin, shifting fabric. He swallowed nervously as he approached; his mouth had gone dry, and his heart was hammering in his chest.

"Kiss me," she whispered, her words carried on the wind as they formed on her perfect pink lips...those warm, delicate, inviting lips, a flower with nectar ripe for the taking...

"Kiss me..."

He wanted to, desperately. His lips longed to caress hers, his arms ached to press her body against his and never let go, and yet...

A shadow detached itself from the wall; tall, clad in a charcoal suit, head bowed, eyes shaded by the brim of a fedora. The figure moved into the halo of another streetlight; the head lifted, and sharp grey eyes peered into his own. Then, the man in the suit turned and walked to the circle of light cast by the lamp under which the girl stood; he encircled her slender shoulders with one long arm and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly. She looked down, eyes not meeting his, a single tear splashing to the ground. They turned, the dark man still holding her possessively, and retreated back into the shadows. The wind carried snatches of whispered conversation to his ears, but he couldn't make them out. For a moment, he considered following—

"Oi. Up and at 'em, mate."

Harry blinked, wincing at the sunlight streaming through the window. A fuzzy, red-topped face swam into view; he grabbed his new glasses and put them on, only to be greeted by the grinning visage of Ron Weasley. "Come on Harry, get up! Mum wants to take us to Diagon Alley to get our stuff for school!"

Harry groggily rose, stretching. "Why're we going so early?" he wondered. The first full week of August had not yet passed, and the Weasleys usually didn't go to Diagon Alley until closer to September.

Ron shrugged. "Mum reckons we're better off going early this year, beat the crowds. Hurry up and dress, she's almost got breakfast done!"

Ron rushed downstairs, and Harry began dressing for the day. As he did so, he pondered the foggy wisps of his dream, frowning.

* * * * *

With fewer Hogwarts students than usual shopping for the start of term, the Weasleys and their guests were able to take a more leisurely approach to their day in Diagon Alley. Shortly past noon, they sat around in the Leaky Cauldron, where they ran into Hagrid, who was also spending the day shopping. The half-giant was looking a good deal more cheerful than usual, and as they sat down to talk, Harry learned he had a good reason.

"Got ter get a few books an' things," Hagrid said with a broad grin. "Weekends an' evenin's, yer professors're gunna try an' learn me summat."

"Learn...?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Hagrid, are you taking...remedial magic lessons?"

"Well, I reckon I'll learn a few remedies," Hagrid shrugged. "Mainly it'll just be gettin' me up ter speed on knowin' what a wizard my age oughtta." At their stunned expressions, he grinned. "Professor Dumbledore's decided since I didn't do what I got expelled from Hogwarts fer doin' an' all, it's time I finished my schoolin' an' became a proper wizard." He sniffled and daubed at his eyes with a grubby handkerchief the size of a tablecloth. "Great man, Dumbledore."

"That's great, Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, raising his glass. All around the table the others did the same, and a rousing cheer went up for the Hogwarts gamekeeper. Hagrid snuffled even more loudly.

"Yer all too kind..." He blinked. "By the way, Harry, how'd you like yer present?"

Harry grinned. "Loved it, Hagrid. Thanks."

Hagrid frowned. "But yer not wearin' yer boots, I see..."

"Saving them for the first day back to Hogwarts." Harry shrugged. "After all, they must have been terribly expensive...don't want to get them all worn out too soon..."

Hagrid chuckled. "Ye'll nae wear those out unless yeh try kickin' dragons with 'em." He drained his immense tankard. "An' don' mind th' cost none, y'hear? Besides, they didn't cost nothin'." At the disbelieving stare he received, he grinned. "Well, yeh don' think it took a whole twenny foot snakeskin ter make one pair boots an' one pair gloves, do yeh?" he waved a massive hand dismissively. "Nah, I sold th' rest o' th' hide ter th' tanner, an' got yer stuff an' th' spellin' on it as part o' th' price. Very rare, basilisk skin...he was right chuffed ter get 'is hands on it." He stood. "Well, I'd best be off. Got lots ter do. Good ter see yeh all." A few moments after Hagrid left, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys followed suit.

* * * * *

When they returned from their shopping, Harry was surprised to see Cho sitting in the Weasleys' kitchen, thumbing through a small book on the table—a book he quickly recognised as the photo album Sirius had given him for his birthday. She looked up. "Oh, hello everyone."

"Hello dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she set a number of parcels on the table.

"I'm sorry for coming unannounced and sitting around your house like this," Cho said with a guilty smile. "I just..."

"It's quite alright," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "You're welcome here any time you wish."

"Thank you," Cho replied. "I tidied up the living room a bit while I was waiting. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, but you shouldn't trouble yourself, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied. "Well, I'd best get started on dinner. Why don't you lot put your things away..."

Cho quickly got up to help everyone carry their things. As she did so, she commented to Harry, "I hope you don't mind that I was looking at your picture album."

"No, I don't mind," Harry said. "I hope you weren't sitting around by yourself too long."

Cho giggled. "Well, when I got here, I saw nobody was around...except Padfoot. He was chasing gnomes around the garden. It was...very amusing."

Harry laughed.

A short while later, the twins had retreated up to their room once again (more explosions shook the Burrow), Ron and Hermione were having a loud argument about O.W.L.s and lax study habits, and Harry and Cho were looking through the photo album once again.

"Your mother must have loved animals," Cho said softly, studying the photograph of Lily Potter with her arms wrapped around the neck of a great stag.

Harry laughed. "That's my dad," he said.

Cho stared at him, her eyebrows raised. "Pardon?"

Harry grinned. "The stag—my dad was an Animagus. An illegal one—unregistered. I only found out about it a little over a year ago. That stag is his animal form."

"Oh, I see!" Cho exclaimed, eyes wide. "I didn't know Animagi could become such large animals...I mean, Professor McGonagall..."

Harry shrugged. "As far as I know, there aren't any size limits." He sighed. "I've been thinking about trying it someday. I've no clue what animal I'd be, but..."

Cho giggled. "Something small, cute, and fluffy, I'd wager." At Harry's quizzical expression, she grinned and added, "Well, you'd be quite cuddly that way."

Harry found three new shades of red to colour his face as Cho laughed harder.