Harry was a touch nervous as the Portkey took them back to England, and not just because of the haunting voices that no one else could hear. They were having their trip to Exeter the day after tomorrow, and he didn’t have a clue how they were getting there. They would be going the whole day without magic, and he still wasn’t even sure that everyone had Muggle clothes. As soon as they hit the ground, he asked Mr. Weasley for a private word. Mum ushered everyone out of the magically enlarged cubicle. However, while she and everyone else went to sign off, Mr. Weasley and Harry headed towards the relatively empty area near the toilets.

“Yes, Harry?” he asked.

“Um, Mr. Weasley, I know this is a little last-minute, but I think we’ll need some Muggle clothes if we’re going to fit in when we all go to Exeter,” he rushed out, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Ah, of course,” Mr. Weasley said as he smiled. “I think we can get all we need in Diagon Alley.”

That only made him even more nervous. He’d seen what wizards thought were Muggle clothes. They made you wonder if the Muggles had invented eyes. “Err, no offence, sir, but I think we ought to go a Muggle store instead.”

“Oh, right. Looking to ease everyone into the Muggle world, are we?” Mr. Weasley grinned.

“Erm, yeah, something like that. Does that mean we can do it before we go back?”

“Of course we can, Harry. Did you bring enough of that Muggle money?”

“Yes, I think so,” he said, almost sagging with relief. He was saved — the only problem left was the transport issue, but he could deal with that problem when it came. “Can we Apparate to Epsom, then? It’s one of the only places I really know...”

Mr. Weasley didn't question Harry, and instead just led him over to the help desk, where he received Apparition coordinates for the car park near the cinema.

Money being an issue hadn’t even occurred to him. When Mr. Weasley Apparated them to Gringotts to get some gold changed into sterling, he’d once again been overwhelmed by the amount of gold in his vault. He’d actually walked in, and walked all the way around the heap of galleons. It was taller than he, and he doubted his uncle’s precious company car was nearly as big lengthways. Toppling a stack of galleons in the corner into a bag made no visual impact at all, and he’d decided to leave before he got reckless. When he’d gone to get the money exchanged, and received over a thousand pounds, he’d been literally floored.

He gave most of the money to Mr. Weasley for safekeeping, but he had two hundred pounds in his new wallet, just as a final ‘screw-you’ to the Dursleys. He didn’t need to do anything else himself for revenge, since he knew that as soon as Ginny came of age, they’d be beyond wishing they hadn’t been born.

They soon caught up with everyone else, waiting at the entrance to the Apparition zone. There was a notice above them warning of the silencing ward that was in effect.

“We aren't going straight home, Weasleys, ” Mr. Weasley said in his usual, jovial tone. “Harry's taking us on a little detour. ”

“Where are we going? ” asked pretty much everyone.

“Epsom,” said Harry.

“It's a Muggle town, ” Mr. Weasley supplied.

"I swear we were going to Exeter," Ron frowned.

"We still are, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, "but Harry wants us all to get Muggle clothes."

Mrs Weasley frowned at him, but she didn't seem particularly disapproving. At least not after the first few seconds, for after that she only seemed to be confused.

"It'll help us fit in better," Harry explained. "We're probably going to draw attention to ourselves anyway, so anything we can do to not look suspicious will help. Think of it as my Christmas present to everyone."

She seemed to relax at this. Mr. Weasley shared the coordinates with her, and then they went to look for a free booth to Apparate from. Harry soon realised why there had been a warning sign. On crossing the threshold he was hit with a solid wall of noise. Ginny made a face at him.

"I've only been here once before," Ginny told him. He could barely hear her at all. "It was horrible then too."

"Could be worse," Harry shrugged.

She grinned at him. "Yeah, how?"

"We could be using another Portkey," Harry replied.

Ginny laughed. "The landings are horrid, I'll give you that."

Harry stopped and looked at her for a moment. 'She's going to think I'm mad. I can trust her, can't I?' "You... don't hear them?"

She stared at him. "Who?"

"The voices..." Harry wasn't sure how to describe it, and suddenly felt silly for trying. "What do you hear?"

Ginny shrugged, nonplussed. "The rushing wind, I suppose," she said. "I've never really paid any attention. Tell me what you hear."

"I never actually made out any words," Harry frowned. "But they were definitely there. They sounded... tired. I think they were in pain."

Ginny looked a little disturbed now. "Harry, do you think you're talking to the dead?"

"Is that possible?" he asked. That was not the response he'd been expecting. Something more along the lines of 'don't worry about it, it's probably just your mind playing tricks on you' was his first bet. Although, now that he thought about it, Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost, had been dead for centuries and yet Harry talked to him nearly every week.

Ginny gave him the appropriate look to make him feel three times as idiotic before pushing his shoulder. "Come on, we can ask Mum and Dad about it. No, let's ask Hermione. She loves having stuff to research."

"Maybe she loves it a little too much," Harry mused.

"I distract her when I can," Ginny smirked. "But I don't think it's a bad thing. You don't see me complaining about your weekly dances with death on that Nimbus, do you?"

"Hey, I know what I'm doing," Harry protested.

"No, you don't," Ginny laughed. "But you're pretty good, and I really doubt that you're going to top yourself on a broom."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just hurried to catch up with the others, who were waiting for them a little way ahead. Mrs Weasley didn't look happy.

"Didn't I warn you not to fall behind?" she asked. Rhetorically, of course - she gave them about half a second to answer. "Imagine if you'd gotten lost! What if we got to our Apparition point and you'd just been swept off in the crowd? Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, Mum," Ginny said, looking so very sorrowful and sincere. She didn't feel that way. At least, she didn't seem to, through their link.

"Sorry, Mrs Weasley," he said. Truthfully, he hadn't meant to lag behind. But he knew Ginny could do whatever would need to be done if something did go wrong.

A lecture and five minutes later, Arthur Weasley and Harry Potter arrived in Epsom with a muffled crack. The sound of a car door slamming shut greeted Harry in his return to the Muggle world. He peered cautiously through the trees to see the little green Mazda reverse away from them, the woman behind the wheel never noticing the two people who had appeared out of thin air not fifteen metres in front of her.

"Stay here, Harry," Mr. Weasley said cheerfully. "There's a notice-me-not charm over this area, so no one will ask you any funny questions."

With that, Mr. Weasley Apparated away, to be replaced almost immediately by Mrs Weasley with Ginny. No sooner had Ginny given him her customary grin than there was a faint 'pop' as Mrs Weasley span on the spot and disappeared. Looking carefully, Harry saw the faintest glow about her body as she turned. The light collapsed inwards as Mrs Weasley Disapparated, shrinking quickly away into nothing. Being curious, he waited for Mr. Weasley to appear again, this time with Ron. As the man Disapparated, he reached out to touch the light. He promptly recoiled, partly because of how shockingly cold the air was, but mainly because Mrs Weasley Apparated so close to the position Mr. Weasley had just occupied that Harry had to move quickly to avoid a very awkward situation.

As George followed Fred, Harry found himself confronted with yet another issue. Why was no one accidentally Apparating into anyone else? Harry leaned against a tree and waited for Percy to arrive. 'Too many questions - this must be something like how Hermione feels all the time.'

"What's going on in there?" Ginny grinned. She reached up and rapped on his forehead.

Shaken out of his reverie, Harry gave her a blank look. "Sorry?"

"You've been acting weird since we got here," she told him. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Harry replied reflexively.

"Really?" she pressed. A cracking noise accompanied Mrs Weasley and Percy as they displaced the air in the apparition zone.

"Yeah, just curious about your teleporting, that's all," Harry replied.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Apparating, Harry."

"Yeah, that," he grinned. "How come you don't Apparate into each other?"

"It happens," Ginny shrugged. Harry stared at her. "What? The ministry can tell when it happens, and St. Mungo's can fix it."

"St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.

"Wizarding hospital, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "Try not to get sent there, but if you need medical help there is no finer place."

Truth be told, Harry had barely given a thought to magical medicine since that healing ritual with Madam Pomfrey. Now that he thought about it, she'd mentioned something about meeting with her teacher afterwards. "Do wizard doctors train there, Mr. Weasley?"

"They're called healers," Mr. Weasley clarified. "I think they would finish their training there at least."

"We had best get going," Mrs Weasley said. "It'll be dark soon."

She wasn't wrong. As they left the car park, the sky was already turning purple.

A train rolled by on the bridge overhead. A red balloon drifted, forgotten, over the roofline. A group of small children giggled as they chased each other down the broad pavement.

Harry stopped in the middle of the high street, suddenly overwhelmed. The last time he had been here, one of Aunt Marge's hounds had chased him down an alley all the way to the Ashley Centre, where he'd evaded his pursuer by way of a lift. Yet now that he was here with the Weasleys, he got a feeling like nothing could touch him.

"This is a bit bigger than Diagon Alley," Ron commented idly.

"A bit bigger, he says," Fred grinned. "Fred, how many Muggles did you say there were?" Okay, so maybe that's George.

"Millions, George, millions," Fred said.

"Billions, actually," interjected Percy.

"I do apologise most profusely, your esteemed prefect-ship," George smirked.

"Billions, Ronniekins," Fred said breathlessly. "That's even more than millions!"

"Oh shut up," Ron snapped.

"Fred, George, if you don't stop now you won't be coming into the city tomorrow," Mrs Weasley warned. They shut up pretty quick after that.

It turned out that they all already knew how to cross roads safely, so it wasn't long before they were at the automatic doors into the Ashley Centre. They'd drawn a few stares so far, walking down a Muggle high street in their thick winter robes, but the town centre wasn't particularly busy this afternoon. This would be the gauntlet though – he could tell by the way Mr. Weasley's face lit up, watching the glass doors slide open in advance of a couple who definitely weren't paying it any mind.

"It's amazing," Mr. Weasley started, grinning ear to ear.

"Hush, Arthur," Mrs Weasley said, "we don't want to draw attention."

"Of course," he replied morosely. Surprisingly smooth.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry. "So, where to, Harry?"

"H&M," Harry replied. "It's somewhere further in, I think."

That first obstacle now passed, Harry started to wonder how they'd handle things in the store.

"Maybe a notice-me-not charm, Dad?" Ginny whispered, reading him perfectly.

"You can do that?" Harry asked.

Mr. Weasley gave the twins a significant look. "Yes, but it would be difficult for us to notice each other. Besides, if I tried to charm us as a group, I wouldn't be able to keep it up for very long." The two mischief makers grinned at each other.

"We might as well split up," Molly said. "I'll take Ginny, Fred and George."

"But Mum, Harry needs to tell us if we look okay," Ginny protested. Harry grinned at her, and she suck her tongue out at him. Mrs Weasley didn't see that, of course.

"I'm sure we'll figure it out," Mrs Weasley smiled, squeezing Ginny's cheek. She muttered something under her breath, and must have been concealing her wand under her robes because Harry was finding it very difficult to concentrate on... something. If only he could remember what it... Ginny. Suddenly, Mrs Weasley, Ginny, Fred and George all snapped back into focus.

“Molly,” Mr. Weasley said, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she asked, nonplussed. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks. Somehow, Harry knew they were responsible.

“The charm collapsed,” Mr. Weasley replied, walking closer so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Ginny wandered over to Harry while the adults worried. “What was that about?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Harry replied. “Do you think–”

“Probably,” Ginny grinned. “Wonder what else we can do?”

“You mean how much more of a nuisance we can make,” Harry snorted.

In the end, they went ahead without concealment charms. Mrs Weasley seemed a little jittery, but apart from that, there was no further incident. Considering how easy things had been up until then, Harry almost expected everyone to figure out how to go Muggle all on their own. As it turned out, he was half right.

After Harry pointed out where the changing rooms were, and explained that the clothes were made to standard sizes, Percy went straight off on his own. After a short debate, Ginny and Mrs Weasley went to sort themselves out too, claiming that they could figure it out for themselves. Harry felt secretly relieved. He had no idea how to help them choose. The last time he'd been with the Dursleys when they were clothes shopping, the trip had been extended by a good half an hour because of various arguments Aunt Petunia got into with shop assistants. It might have been a fond memory, to spend time outside the house watching one of his tormentors getting stressed and venting impotently at random people, except that Uncle Vernon wouldn't let him put any of their bags down.

"After you," Mr. Weasley smiled. Harry nodded, suddenly feeling a little nervous. He led them through footwear, children’s wear and menswear, trying to give them as much freedom as he could. He could be happy that the Weasleys were familiar with the apparently very Muggle idea of underwear. On the other hand, Mr. Weasley seemed hell-bent on breaking their cover. He nearly burst at the seams when he saw someone using a mobile telephone.

They ran into Percy in the menswear section. He was perusing the suits.

"Percy," Mr. Weasley ventured, "we're going for a day out in the city. You won't need something so formal."

"Yeah Perce," George said. "Pleasure, not business."

Percy sniffed. "I am..."

"Percy, you're a prefect all the time at school," Harry said. "That's not going to disappear because you enjoyed your holiday."

Mrs Weasley and Ginny appeared suddenly, through the racks of clothing to Percy's other side.

"They chose James Potter for head boy back in the seventies," Ginny said quietly, so that the older guy a few metres away wouldn't hear. "From what I've read, he was more like George than you, Percy, and Bill never took it that seriously either."

Percy looked almost betrayed. "This is not about my aspirations for the future," he claimed. "I would simply feel more comfortable in..."

"Percy, we would all be more comfortable in our winter robes," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "This is about fitting in. Please make an effort to."

“Yes, father,” Percy said, defeated. He returned the items he had already selected to their prior places, and looked to the more casual clothing.

“So, uh, Mrs Weasley, did you manage alright?” Harry asked.

“Oh yes, dear, thank you,” Mrs Weasley replied. “We haven’t any Muggle shoes though, did you find where they keep them?”

“Yes, it’s back that way,” Harry replied, pointing out the signs.

“So, any thoughts, Harry?” Mr. Weasley asked.

It was pitch black outside when they Apparated back to the Burrow. Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at each of the lights in turn, keeping it trained on them for several seconds after they lit up. Fred, George, Percy and Mr. Weasley all headed upstairs, but Harry didn’t follow just yet as he was puzzling over Mrs Weasley’s actions.

“She’s charging them,” Ginny explained, seeing his confusion. “They’re rune stones. Mum’s got to charge them for them to stay lit.”

“Doesn’t Hogwarts use candles?” Harry asked.

“That is really a delightful bit of enchantment,” Mrs Weasley smiled. “The runes channel Hogwarts’s ambient energy into replenishing charms that keep the candles from running out of wax, so one quick Incendio could keep one of them lit forever.”

“Incendio?” Harry asked.

“Oh of course, you haven’t learned it just yet,” Mrs Weasley said apologetically. “It’s a basic Fire Charm.”

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said.

“You’re welcome,” Mrs Weasley replied. “I’m sure you’re still enjoying Wingardium Leviosa .”

Harry and Ron exchanged significant looks, although Mrs Weasley didn’t seem to notice. She soon finished and headed to the kitchen, scolding them to stop dawdling.

“Well, I’m going to go see what these clothes feel like,” Ron said finally.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, moving to follow him up. “Come on, Harry, I want to show you what I got.”

Truthfully, Harry hadn’t checked on the clothes that Ginny and Mrs Weasley had bought. Partly because he knew that Ginny, and probably Mrs Weasley too, would have a good handle on things, but mainly because he was way too embarrassed to ask.

He blushed bright red. “Uh, you sure? I could, you know, go change in my room and come see after, or something.” That prospect excited him more than he would say. Apart from his school robes, he couldn’t remember ever having clothes that fit him, let alone that were his own.

“But Harry, I’ve never worn Muggle clothes before,” Ginny said slowly. “I might need your help.”

He looked around desperately, but Mrs Weasley was out of sight in the kitchen, and even Ron had buggered off.

She started laughing uproariously. “The look ... on your ... face ... is priceless,” she gasped.

Harry glared at her, stalking past her to take cover in his room. He wasn’t about to tell her, but he’d been having the strangest... bodily malfunctions lately. Half the time he was pretty sure what was behind it, and then it would start happening completely randomly and suddenly he had no clue. Well, it had started now, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief as he shut the door behind him. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt ... ashamed about it.

He undressed delicately, as he always did with his Hogwarts robes. For one thing, they were such strange affairs that he was liable to simply get himself stuck if he rushed. But like his wand and his books, he didn’t want to damage them. Not only were they a precious link to the magical world, but they were the first things he’d really had to call his own. Opening Bill’s old wardrobe to use the mirror on the inside of the door, Harry looked at himself properly for the first time for a long time. Maybe it was the first time ever. The healing ritual had certainly done its job — he couldn’t see a trace of the Dursleys’ affections. He definitely couldn’t count his ribs in the mirror, so he had put on weight. Flexing, he grinned at the response his body gave him. Harry got a sudden, mad urge to fly back to Little Whinging and give Dudley and his gang a proper seeing to.

His scar twinged.

He woke up smiling softly. He’d had the most amazing dream...

Splash!

He fell out of bed, spluttering and coughing. It was a few seconds before he recovered enough to look up. Ginny was standing in the doorway, clutching the frame and laughing her eyes out. A bucket fell with a crash beside him.

As they recovered their breath, she asked in her innocent little voice, “Good night’s sleep, Harry?”

He growled and leapt to his feet, surprising even himself with the fluidity with which he switched from prone to full charge. Her eyes went wide with fear and excitement; she bolted from the room, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get away. Harry gave chase with the practised ease of a boy who’d spent almost his whole life running. He skipped three stairs at a time without a single stumble or hesitation, and was inches away from being within reach.

They burst out of the back door and flew past the chicken coops. Her shrieks rang out in the cold, clear morning as they crunched over frost, relishing the fresh breeze as they cut through the winter air. They’d almost reached the trees when Harry, still leaving a thin trail of flying water droplets in his wake, executed a perfect dive to bring her to the ground. He began tickling her, delighting in his revenge.

“No,” she giggled. “Harry!”

Her giggles alerted him to the fact that he was malfunctioning again. He lurched backwards so she wouldn’t notice. Water dripped down from his hair into his eyes, and he shook himself trying to get rid of it.

“Aah! Harry, you’re soaking me!”

“Your own bloody fault,” he grinned.

She pounced on him, and a piece of snow smacked him in the face from over her shoulder. “Hey, I was doing you a favour.”

Harry didn’t have the breath to respond, so he just gave her an incredulous look.

“I got you up in time for the trip today,” she said, like it was so obvious.

“I was already awake!” Harry exclaimed.

“You were still in bed, doesn’t count,” Ginny sniffed. Another chunk of snow hit him in the back of the head, and she giggled at him.

“You...” Harry didn’t even have words anymore. Ginny laughed outright, and ran off into the trees. ‘Well, it’s not like we’re doing anything else, today, right?’ he thought sarcastically as he gave chase.

A couple of minutes later, Harry realised that he couldn’t hear her laughter anymore. All he heard was the sound of rushing water. He followed that, and found a stream running through the woods. It was clear as glass, and Harry saw little fish swimming around in the shallow waters.

“Nobody else ever comes here.” He got a clearer lock on where she was, and wondered why he hadn’t sensed her before. She was sitting up in a large oak tree, and Harry noticed that there was a box or crate of some sort tucked away in the tree’s hollow.

“It’s nice,” Harry said. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’ve been coming here since I was five; eventually got tired of Mum being so protective.”

She hopped down from the branch she was on to the one just below it. Harry goggled at the grace of her movements — she’d clearly done this many times before. When she got to the lowest branch, she dropped down and landed crouched, with one hand on the ground before her to steady her.

“Wow.”

Ginny blushed at his praise.

“So what do you get up to here, apart from treat the wildlife to acrobatics shows?” Harry asked.

“And what kind of wildlife are you, Harry?” she deflected, smiling.

“Hmm...” Harry considered it seriously. He imagined himself as a bird, but he didn’t think it really suited him. Half of the fun of flying was wrestling with his broom. He certainly couldn’t see himself as a fish. Being constrained to the water wasn’t very appealing. The answer came to him, and he smirked at her. “I’m a wolf, Ginny,” he told her, advancing on her. “And I’ve got your scent.”

She laughed. “Oh, somebody please help me!” she cried in mock-fear. “This terrible wolf has me trapped!”

“Oh dear,” Harry said ominously. “Nobody’s around.”

He launched himself at her, but she disappeared right from under his nose.

“Tsk tsk tsk, too slow Harry,” Ginny taunted. He rolled and threw himself at her but again she was too fast, ducking and rolling neatly between his legs as he strode towards her.

“How...?” Harry asked, bewildered. She shrugged at him. Harry crouched again, and feinted a dash towards her. She did a perfect forward flip over where he would have been, and landed neatly in his arms.

“Oh, no fair,” she pouted. A drop of rainwater hit her on the nose, and she flinched, scrunching up her face.

“You’re so pretty,” Harry said admiringly. She blushed brightly.

“Daphne’s pretty,” she said, watching the stream flowing behind him. “Lavender’s pretty. The Patils are really...”

“Then you’re beautiful,” Harry pressed.

She looked up at him. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Harry asked, confused.

“Making me feel... I don’t know,” she buried her face in his neck. It clicked with him that Harry hadn’t ever noticed the other guys in his year talking to girls like he did to Ginny. He’d always felt that he was just telling her what he was thinking. Sure he was surprised that he had the courage to do it, but he’d assumed that he had been the odd one out, not that he was becoming the odd one out. Seamus talked about girls a hell of a lot, but Harry had never seen him say or do even half of the things he said he did. At this point, he was pretty sure that Seamus was full of crap.

“Ginny,” Harry said, putting her at arm’s length. “I don’t lie to you.”

“I...”

“No, I mean it,” Harry interrupted, getting a little frustrated. ‘Why can’t she just understand?’ “When I tell you I like your freckles, or your hair or your eyes... it’s not just because I want to make you happy. You’re better with people than anyone I know, so how have you not noticed the way Dean looks at you?” To be fair, he’d only seen Dean look at her that way once. It had been at Platform 9¾, on the way back from Hogwarts. He tried not to think about it, because it gave him an uncomfortable new feeling. Like something was growling inside of him.

“Huh?”

Harry tugged at his hair. “Y-”

“You... really do mean it, don’t you?” Ginny asked timidly.

Harry let out his breath like a balloon had just been pricked in his chest. “Ginny, of course I mean it,” he said. “What did you think?”

“I don’t know,” Ginny grinned. “Maybe I have a really ugly boil somewhere that you can’t stop staring at.”

“I don’t think there’s a boil brave enough,” Harry laughed.

Ginny giggled. “I’ll remember that next time Neville has an accident in Potions, I can save him the pain.” Their friend’s clumsiness, especially in the potions laboratory, had become something of a running joke for the other houses.

Harry kissed her on the cheek. Another raindrop hit Ginny on the nose, and she scrunched it up again. He watched as it rolled down her pale skin before bulging heavily at the tip of her nose. She scrunched up her whole face and reached up to rub it away, but Harry blocked her. He watched as it slowly, almost reluctantly, fell away.

“I don’t lie to you,” Harry said earnestly. He knew that she was the one person that he wouldn’t — couldn’t — lie to.

Breakfast was quieter than usual that morning. The excitement was radiating from Ron and his father. Everyone was looking forward to the venture into the Muggle world, although Percy was looking a lot calmer about it, and Mrs Weasley was her usual worried self. She had almost started to object to them going last night, after considering the ‘dangerous’ chances of someone getting lost. One look at Harry seemed to stop her, though.

Ron seemed of two minds whether to eat lots because he didn’t know what he’d be having for lunch, or not to eat much so that he’d have more room for all the Muggle food. In his strange state of contemplation, he absently finished plate after plate of eggs and bacon. Harry barely ate anything. This was his chance to impress his new family. It was only Ginny’s hand in his under the table that kept him from sprinting up to the bathroom and bolting himself in.

It was seven o’clock when everyone headed upstairs to dress up in their new Muggle clothes. Harry did sprint at this point, but not out of nerves. Apart from the hand-me-downs from Ron, he’d never had any clothes that fit him. He grinned as he pulled on the black tracksuit bottoms and an off-white Nike t-shirt with the signature big tick in black. He carefully pulled on the astro turf trainers, and finally understood how running shoes were meant to feel. They felt comfortably tight, and while it would be a considerable exaggeration to say they were like a second skin, they were most definitely under his control. He grabbed a longish winter coat, then, feeling like he’d just swallowed a bagful of sugar he dashed across the hall and knocked loudly on Ginny’s door.

“I’m not done yet!” she called from inside, giggling. “Go check on dad. He’s probably staring at those sunglasses again.”

He laughed as he ran upstairs. Percy opened his door as he reached the second landing. He was wearing a white polo shirt with beige slacks and a brown belt. It was funny how the look suited him. Percy smiled weakly. He knew what the look meant by now. It was the ‘I’m out of my depth and don’t like it, but I don’t want Fred and George to know’ look. He grinned and put his thumbs up. Percy’s smile became a little more confident and he stood a little straighter. At least the pole up his arse wasn’t too visible.

Fred was, as expected, holding jeans over George’s head with a Sticking Charm. Harry ducked as George unleashed some kind of shockwave with his wand, and undid the charm.

“Fred, you know I’ll always be your better with a wand.”

“Yeah, but I’ll always be better with the girls.”

“I’ll tell Angie you said that,” George said with a smirk. It broadened when Fred paled slightly.

“Bit below the belt, wasn’t it?” Fred spluttered.

George gaped, pointing at the jeans. “That was terrible, bro. You’re losing your touch.”

“Hate to interrupt guys, but jeans are meant to be worn over your boxers, not over your eyes. See you!” Harry laughed as he ran up the stairs towards the master bedroom, which he decided to leave till last, then he reached Ron’s room. He sniggered for what must have been the millionth time at the sign on the door (Ronald’s Room), before knocking.

“Harry?” Ron called.

“Yeah,” he said back, through the door. “How’d you know?”

“Dunno, I just guessed I suppose. Come in, mate — what’re you doing?” he replied, confusion evident in his voice.

“I’m avoiding seeing you starkers, Ron. I have a hard enough time at Hogwarts,” he said as he entered.

“These feel kind of weird, Harry. A little scratchy, and they’re not too tight, but... How does Dean deal with it?” he asked, frowning. He’d decided to get jeans because he’d seen Dean wearing them on weekends — the only time Hogwarts allowed them to wear what they liked.

“No idea, mate. Try to walk it off,” Harry suggested. “I really hope Dad doesn’t give us away, I mean it went okay in Epsom but...” He gazed off into space as he considered everything that could go wrong for the twenty-ninth time, but was brought sharply back to reality as he noticed the odd look on his friend’s face.

“You know, Harry...” he said speculatively. “That’s the first time you’ve called him Dad properly — at least in front of me.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You guys feel like family, you know, you’ve been really great.” He blushed. “I guess I’ve started thinking of you like that.”

Ron looked at him for a few seconds, then grabbed him in a brief hug. “Welcome to the family, mate,” he grinned.

Harry grinned back. There had once been a time when he’d sat in a cupboard wishing there was one person who cared about him. If someone tried to lock him up again, there’d be a small army coming to break him out. He realised that he genuinely didn’t want revenge. He didn’t want to be reminded. He prized his new life too much, from the wonders of magic to the look in Ginny’s eyes when she looked at him.

“Yeah, thanks Ron,” he breathed, his grin stretching his face almost painfully. “Now let’s figure out where to hide our wands...”

Ten minutes later, they were all gathered outside the front door. Nobody was moving, all waiting for someone else to make the first move. Or rather, everyone automatically expected Harry to take the lead in this... expedition into the Muggle world.

“Oh, sod it,” Fred said, stepping forth.

“We haven’t got all our lives — when did you say the bus was, Harry?” George asked.

The tension broken, everyone began to walk onwards down the long path into the village. They were greeted with friendly smiles from the people they saw, and Harry soon felt a lot less nervous. The bus stop was in the middle of an incline, where they ended up waiting outside a butcher’s.

Mr. Weasley checked his watch. “Well, it’s 7:40 now.”

Harry checked the timetable. “Oh... we missed the last one.” Fred and George groaned dramatically. “Before you start, the next one is in eight minutes.”

They passed the time with idle chatter, watching the village wake up as the sky brightened to a crisp blue.

“So this is how all Muggles travel, then?” Ron asked.

“Of course, Ronald — they call it public transport,” Percy replied.

Fred’s flippant remark was cut off by his father. “There it is,” Dad announced. “I do hope it’s more comfortable than the Knight Bus.”

Harry turned to Ginny, who shrugged. ‘I’ve never been on it, personally. All I know is that it’s purple, fast and has three floors.’

‘Well, wizards aren’t really known for being conservative, are they?’ he grinned.

She smiled back, laughing in the bond. The bus was pulling in, and Harry suddenly realised he’d forgotten to mention the fare. Quickly sliding pound coins into his hand, he gave up, pulled a twenty and put it in Dad’s hand just as the door opened. Luckily, the driver seemed to have not noticed, and soon they all had tickets and were finding seats.

‘This is so weird...’ Ginny thought as she sat next to Harry in the bus.

‘I still prefer it to Apparition or Portkey,’ Harry sighed. He was completely comfortable on this single-decker 380. Well, apart from his continuing bodily malfunctions. Maybe Madam Pomfrey could explain it to him. Everyone said that she kept confidentiality, and there certainly hadn’t been any rumours about the ritual.

‘It’s less uncomfortable when you Apparate yourself, but I see your point about Portkeys. Still, this is a lot slower,’ she said. Keeping to telepathy for these topics was essential. They couldn’t risk the six Muggle passengers or the driver hearing about magic.

‘Well, you haven’t been on a Muggle train yet. Besides, Apparating is near instant — what can be as fast as that?’ he reasoned. It wasn’t that he resented magic being faster. He just really hated the fact that all forms of magical transport seemed to want to hurt you.

‘I never said all this wasn’t brilliant. The thing is, Wizarding Britain is so widespread, it’s unrealistic to travel the Muggle way. We’d spend the whole day trying to get to a friend’s house,’ she explained.

‘Maybe we can use magic to make trains faster...’ Harry wondered.

‘Well, I don’t know. I think Bill said your Nimbus was a little faster than the Hogwarts Express, but that’s about the limit for magic making things fly.’

‘Really? We can pop up anywhere in the world with magic, but we can’t break the sound barrier with it?’ he exclaimed, astonished.

‘What’s a sound barrier?’ she enquired.

‘The speed of sound? Three hundred thirty metres a second? You really don’t know?’ he asked, disbelieving.

‘Haven’t a clue, but I know that that is stupidly fast. Muggles can do that?’

Harry snorted, drawing a few odd looks from Ron, Percy and their mother. ‘Muggles can do way better than that.’

She gaped at him. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’

‘Hermione’s going to be so upset she missed this.’ He smirked at her. ‘Wait till I tell you about the space shuttle.’

Her eyes went wide. She’d heard (mainly from her father) that they were clever in their own way, but this would be a ridiculous show of ignorance by the magical community. ‘'Space shuttle? As in astronomy space? Above the sky space?’

He grinned. He was going to have so much fun just watching her face!

They got off the bus twenty minutes later in the middle of the Exeter City Centre. Mum looked quite thoughtful, gazing back at the bus as it rolled into the depot. Harry turned and smiled. They’d managed to find a spot with a little privacy, just behind the shelter.

“We’ve got all the time in the world. So we can see a movie, go to have a paintball fight... anything, really.”

“What’s a paintball fight?” Ron asked curiously.

“Well, I’ve never been in one myself, but they give you this sort of bodysuit, and a paintball gun, which shoots these jelly balls full of paint.” He grinned when Fred and George looked to each other, and nodded, identical smiles forming on their faces.

“Sounds like great fun, Harry...”

“But what is a gun?” George finished.

He frowned slightly. Wizards were really badly informed. “Normal guns are basically death machines. They use metal bullets, and they fire them a lot, lot faster than paintballs,” he grimaced. “These guns aren’t like that, though. The paintballs go a lot slower and they’re jelly, not metal, and you get a protective suit with a faceguard and everything. Nobody ever gets more than a bruise. It’s a lot safer than Quidditch, actually.”

“Normal guns? These Muggles are mad!” Mum breathed.

“I wouldn’t be so hard, Molly. Wizards aren’t so much better. At least the Muggles are getting rid of racism,” Mr. Weasley pacified.

She seemed to droop a little. “The whole world is hopeless,” she muttered dejectedly. Dad put an arm around her, while all the Weasley children stared.

“Not really. Have you heard about how the Muggles went to the moon?” Ginny grinned.

In the end, half of the time before lunch was spent with Harry simply doing his best to explain the Muggle world. He would have given half the gold in his vault for Hermione to be here. He took them all to the nearest shopping centre, showing them the Muggle technology as he told them about it. Personal computers, large-screen television sets... They were mesmerised. And a little offended when he asked Mr. Weasley if he could buy them a TV and VCR set.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but we can’t accept this!” Mum hissed.

“Please, Mum! I’m part of the family now, and there probably won’t be time for us to go to the cinema now anyway. At least if we want to go paintballing. I wanted to bring the movies to the Burrow. It’s not charity, because I’m buying it for myself as much as anything else,” he pleaded. Ron looked a little disconcerted, while Ginny gave him an encouraging look. "I would have given everything in that vault ten times over for a family to care for me. You guys are everything I dreamed of and more. Please."

A little tear ran from the corner of her eye. Fred and George gave each other significant looks. “I... This still isn’t right. Oh, go on then. But never again, Harry. And you are going to be carrying it back without magic, young man!”

“Mother!” Percy gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she remained silent.

“Okay, Harry, let me count the money. How much is it?”

“Two hundred,” Harry said, suddenly reluctant.

“Fifty, a hundred, one fifty, two hundred. It’s quite simple, really, isn’t it?” Dad asked with a big smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he replied absently. Ginny slipped her hand into his as Percy and Ron went off with Mum to look at something or other.

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. I’m actually really surprised she let you at all. She really has got a soft spot for you.”

Harry smiled. If anything would make things seem better, it would be Ginny’s reassurance. “Like yours?” he teased.

She stepped a little closer, and he gulped. “No one will ever have a soft spot for you like mine,” she whispered, a small smirk on her face. His breath caught in his throat as she leaned up. They hadn’t kissed in such a public place since their first one. Their parents were going to have a fit.