Harry was grinning as they all stood waiting. Mum had been in a bit of a huff when she realised that the Muggles did a delivery service, and that Harry had escaped carrying the TV set home without magic. The wards around the Burrow would prevent a home delivery, but Harry now only needed to bring it from the local Post Office. That hadn’t stopped her coming to join in the paintball fight though, to ‘watch her children’s backs’. He rather suspected that the adults had played outside the rules a bit. He was pretty sure Dudley’s tenth birthday had needed some advance booking, and that had been a paintball party, hadn’t it? As it was, the eight of them and seventeen strangers were standing behind a rope tied between some trees.

He wondered what they’d do once they were done here. They couldn’t go to the cinema now, but he’d definitely be taking them to the nearest video store. He really needed to find out what was so bloody amazing about Star Wars. He’d be picking up a couple of Bond films, too... Cash certainly wouldn’t be a problem. Even food hadn’t hurt his pocket, and considering Ron’s appetite, that was saying something. Turning to look at his best friend, who was staring down the barrel of his own gun, a little snicker leaked out. He was punched lightly on the shoulder, and focused down to the mask which covered his girlfriend’s face.

“Not laughing at me, are you, Potter?” she asked in a muffled hiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Look at your brother,” he replied.

“Which one?” she said, looking around, before her gaze landed on Ron. She shook her head in exasperation.

“I need to say?” Harry asked rhetorically.

“I guess not,” she smirked. “Can you see properly out of your helmet?”

“Yeah, but it’s starting to mist up,” he frowned. ‘Would Mum and Dad break the no-magic rule to clean them?’ he wondered. He checked the shell-like container of ammo he’d brought. They were going to have to be pretty trigger-happy to use up two thousand paintballs each today. But then, Fred and George had fully automatic assault rifles.

“Okay, you’re trying to get the flag you saw earlier,” the marshal said. “Be warned that you’re going to be completely open once you’ve gone for it. You need to get it behind this line. If it hasn’t been brought to either base before a quarter of an hour, whoever had the flag gets four points instead of ten. We have two hit kills here, but headshots don’t count, remember that. If you haven’t got ammo to waste, be ready to do some serious ducking and diving. Now everyone behind the line...”

There was a bit of shuffling, but he knew without looking that the twins wouldn’t have stuck to the rules for Cleansweep Sevens. He tensed instinctively as he heard some distant yelling from the other team. Then he looked at Ginny and smirked. She was fingering the trigger of her AK-47 replica almost lovingly. He was quite thankful they were on the same team.

“Red team, are you ready?” came the call.

“YEAH!!” they cried deafeningly. The marshal fired a blank in the direction of the others, and there was an answering shot. “3... 2... 1... GAME ON!”

Harry laughed out loud as he ran forwards, his rifle raised to the sky. His mask was getting a little frustrating since it was forcing his glasses lower than he would have wanted, but that wasn’t going to spoil this for him. The wall loomed closer, and he dived for cover behind one of the little wooden obstacles on the ground. Well, loomed was the wrong word. It wasn’t all that big, but standing in that one-metre passageway he would be easy pickings. He stuck his barrel out through the gap in the middle of his wooden shield, and watched for the blue team. The flag was clearly visible, hanging from the ceiling of the open walkway, and he waited as he heard his team-mates finding their own sniping spots behind him, or crawling into the under-passages beneath the wall on either side.

A shot flew to the side of his cover, and he cursed. He couldn’t see where the shot had come from, and realised that the misting on the visor was hurting him more than he’d guessed. The worst part of it was that he couldn’t take the thing off to clean the insides, since he’d be barred for the safety violation. He pulled the trigger on his gun, spraying a wide cone of paintballs through the walkway, even though his gun was kept steadily aimed down the middle.

‘Oh well, at least I’m more likely to get someone than trying to see through all this,’ he thought as he raised his left hand to wipe his visor. It was a big mistake. Someone obviously saw the motion, because almost instantly, four paintballs were zipping towards him. One hit the wooden barrier above him. Another deflected off the side of his helmet. Another burst open on his shoulder. The final one burst on his gun. He had two lives, and he’d just lost one for nothing!

He ducked, and turned to see someone, he couldn’t tell who, make a run for it and get shot down. Two heads popped out from either side of some close-growing trees at identical angles, and shook sadly. Harry grinned as they quickly whipped their heads away from more paintballs, despite the ‘no-headshots’ rule that protected them.

Just then, something flew over his head from his own side, and landed just on the other side of the walkway. There were a few exclamations from the opposing team as pink-purple gas spewed from the smoke grenade. He charged and, blinded as he was by sweat and condensation, lost his footing over a dip in the ground and landed on his arse in some mud. Scowling, he picked himself up and started running again. He needed to get to the flag before the other side recovered! However, he was having a difficult enough time keeping control over his feet, as they continually found interesting patches of branches and mud to slip and trip in. He heard Ron mutter something right behind him, and was grateful that his friend was covering his back.

Then he noticed someone else dart in front of him, headed for the flag. He raised his gun to provide cover fire when whoever it was dived to the side. Assuming that the person was being fired upon, he levelled the rifle and began his total bombardment of the enemy area. Then he felt something that caused him alarm. He wasn’t sure what it was or why it disturbed him, but there was something in front of him, and he just had to run! He turned, but it was too late.

BANG!

He felt the paint slam into his back, and yelled his frustration. He’d been so close. The throw had been perfect, and he’d screwed up! ‘I must look like an idiot,’ he groaned to himself. He raised his left hand, put on the safety on his gun, and switched to its fore-grip.

The next arena contained a pyramid. It was clearly a smaller arena than the previous one, but the pyramid was quite large. It stood at least ten metres tall. There was a helmeted log held within that was supposed to be fought over. The Weasleys’ team was assaulting the pyramid in the first round. They’d called the makeshift dummy ‘Malfoy’. They won through a lucky combination of a well-placed grenade and Fred and George’s epic suicide run. It was even funnier to watch Ron pummel the dummy with paintballs before giving it a good kick.

The second round hadn’t been so good. Harry’s, and almost everyone else’s, visors were completely screwed at this point, and they couldn’t see further than their own noses. They never stood a chance. With eight of the team out of the running before they’d begun, their Muggle allies had made a brave effort, but in the end were slaughtered mercilessly. The fact that only one of them had an automatic rifle now must have had some effect on this, too.

As they walked back to the safe zone, the twins asked some of the Muggles how they managed to see through their helmets. They gave them a funny look.

“This your first time, then?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous. I can’t even see your face!” Fred exclaimed.

“Well, they give you these kits that stop the visor misting up,” one of the girls replied. “They’re only 50p.”

“Oh. Thanks...” George said slowly.

Fred dragged him away, giving the girl an apologetic look he wasn’t entirely sure she could see.

“What was that for?” he whispered.

“Brother mine, if you’d shown ignorance of Muggle money back there, we would’ve been done for. We are going to be standing with these people for the rest of the day,” he said seriously. George gaped at him. This was so unlike him it was ridiculous. “Besides, I know all of your lines, and the only one that’s any good would not work with any kind of helmet on!”

“Bloody git! But you’d have loved to watch that,” his curiosity was piqued, and his twin was keeping their link firmly shut from his end.

“I would, but that can wait — we’ve barely even started here!”

George grinned. That was his brother alright. Maybe he would nick one of Fred’s lines. It wasn’t as if they were even his. He’d just used them first. ‘Dick.’

“How are you meant to use two at once? I can barely lift this damn thing with one hand, and my left hand can’t do squat,” she complained. They were up to their fourth map, the last one before lunch - team deathmatch.

“It’s a sidearm. You use the rifle, and switch when you run out of ammo,” he answered. He was really quite pleased with himself for being able to handle the automatic with one hand. ‘Must be all the Quidditch,’ he mused. ‘Handling that Nimbus must be harder on the wrists than I’d thought.’

“But you’re using two, so it’ll be easier for you,” she nearly whined.

“I’ll cover you, then.” He saw through her visor for a couple of seconds, and the glare she was giving him was truly chilling. “Or not...”

The whistle blew.

Fred and George immediately charged for the nearest bit of cover, although they weren’t alone. A girl they’d been talking to earlier was between them. Mum and Dad hid behind trees further forwards, Mum with a strange gleam in her eye, and Dad still handled the gun with a sort of hesitant reverence. Ron started crawling forwards on his hands and knees, while Percy walked slowly forwards next to him. Harry and Ginny, however, noticed none of this.

Harry followed four paces behind Ginny as she rocketed towards the halfway point. As the barrels came into sight, so did the first of their opponents, and the first shots. Ginny squeezed the trigger, using her left hand to swing the gun round with deadly accuracy. Not that the paintballs themselves were following their intended trajectory, but the sheer number of rounds she was letting loose made up for that. Harry dived for cover among the barrels as she took down one, two, three grown men as they were splattered with red paint. A lot of trees were getting heavily marked, too, but they had bought a lot of paintballs.

He raised his gun, and brought it back down just as a blue ball of gelatine soared overhead. The triggers felt like a part of his fingers as he tested their weight. He grinned as he tensed his legs, then pushed up into the air, ready to fire blind. It would take too long to search out a mark, so he’d go with his feelings. He didn’t notice how weird his vision was becoming. He automatically attributed it to the misting, but that simply wasn’t it. He could almost sense where everything was. It was a bit like when he sensed Ginny, but stronger and clearer. He let out a stream of fire from the rifle with a couple of additional shots from his pistol, and felt each of the seventeen fluid bullets smash into their mark. He looked up and was astonished to see someone fall with their entire chest turned from black to a deep blood red. Then he had to dodge a couple of paintballs again as he hit the ground. He crept back towards everyone else, the adrenaline pounding through his veins.

“Hey, Ron!” he hissed loudly.

“Yeah?” Ron called back, rolling to avoid a paintball, which splattered in the roots of the tree next to him.

“Tell Fred and George to cover me,” he yelled. Then, he turned to begin his assault. Each team had twenty-five. The non-Weasleys on their team were trying to flank the others, but from the racket coming either side of him, the other team had had a similar idea. “You and Percy go help out the others.” He pointed either side of him with his guns even as he charged towards Ginny, who was being forced to do some pretty incredible acrobatics by the streams of paintballs headed towards her.

Harry felt the danger as a sort of alarming... something. He turned his left hand and fired, then looked. The first thing he noticed was the way that everything around him was only creeping by. It was disconcerting. Then he saw the paintball he’d fired. It was flying toward Ginny. He shouted a warning, and suddenly time snapped back to normality. She ducked, and his red paintball smashed into an orange one from the opposition. The guy who’d fired it was just staring dumbly at the point where his paintball had been shot down in mid-air. Harry finished him with a few quick bursts fired from his automatic. They all whacked him in the chest, and he fell backward from the impact.

He could feel Ginny’s fury, and her mortifying embarrassment. It actually hurt him, like imaginary boxing gloves were pummelling him. He dived past her to some cover, wanting to end this quickly. Harry sniped two blue team members out of the game before he was compromised. Diving out from behind the tree, he fired both guns as he dropped, and landed on all fours.

With no adversaries in sight, he broke into a low run, which turned into a sprint.

Harry barrelled past the centre point cover, taking out three more enemies as he went. He was definitely in enemy territory now. A pattering of feet alerted him to Ginny, hot on his heels. He laughed, maybe just a little maniacally.

Colour exploded by an old oak in front of him as Ginny took out a hiding watchman. Raising his own weapon, he reddened a tree behind yet another foe. Finally having reached the enemy base, Harry counted five of the blue team surrounding them.

“Ready, Ginny?” he whispered.

She remained ominously silent.

“Now!” he cried. He jumped into the air just as Ginny dived to the floor, and they each took one out as the flurry of paintballs flew between them. Harry grinned when the paintballs flying under him started moving in the other direction, fired now from the twins’ weapons. They plastered a guy who’d clearly been gunning for Ginny. She, however, was rolling to avoid repeating fire from a girl who was also skilfully handling two guns at once, though her rifle was only a semi-auto. He fired reflexively, knowing that he was protecting Ginny but not realising it until the paintballs erupted in mid air.

He slammed to the ground behind Ginny, his air-time coming to an abrupt end.

“Urk,” he grunted, rolling sideways and trying to get a lock on the girl firing on Ginny. The futility of her attack was proving highly frustrating for her, but the effort of dodging and diving so much was surely tiring Ginny much faster.

He moved to get line of sight on her assailant, but found himself under attack. A large patch of blue appeared on the underbrush he’d just rolled away from. Harry leapt to his feet, firing at his assailant with his pistol while tracking the other girl with the rifle. The man went down cursing, but so did Ginny. Her opponent lined up on Harry, but he was ready.

Harry pirouetted to avoid the two weapon crossfire and sent what he thought was rapid fire at his final adversary. In reality there was next to no space separating the paintballs, which ended up deflecting off each other as they collided with her chest, sending more paint flying around her than actually onto her. Harry’s guns roared in annoyance at their empty feeds, and the world sped back up as the last woman falling held her arms up in defeat, surrounded by a dissipating red cloud.

The whistle blew, and Harry threw both guns to the floor, breathing hard. Ginny took her time getting up, and that was when he knew she was mad. She did everything quickly unless she wanted to extract pain from someone. Grabbing his forearm in a vice-like grip, the redhead dragged him out towards the dead zone. He didn’t even hear the marshals award him bonus points for his impossible marksmanship, and Ginny for her acrobatic manoeuvres. Her anger was beginning to infect him.

She only barely kept herself within a reasonable distance of the marshals, and Harry could feel her frustration mounting. He didn’t resist her. He knew that he was her only real outlet from the aggravation of being the ‘little girl’ and being treated as such. The fact that he had offered to cover her as the last in a line of her brothers from previous games probably hadn’t helped. Thankfully, the marshals didn’t complain at Ginny pulling him along ahead of them. It didn’t make the three minute walk back to the gun racks and safe zone beyond any more comfortable, though.

“I thought I said I could protect myself out there,” she hissed as soon as she’d dragged him to a corner of one of the waiting areas.

“Ginny, we’re on the same team for crying out loud. I’m meant to help you!” he cried as he tore his own protection to the ground. His glasses, trapped in the fittings of the visor, followed it down.

Her anger was influencing his replies, he knew it. But right then, he cared about as much as he understood how the hell that was possible. He stared half-incredulously, half-angrily at the reddish blur that was Ginny Weasley, not really sure which emotions were truly his.

“That shot was meant for me! It was embarrassing! You didn’t even take the shot for me. It was going faster than anything I’ve ever seen, and you just shot it out of the air like it was nothing!” she yelled. A furtive audience was beginning to gather, as their family watched nervously from the front.

“Why won’t you let me protect you? I’m your boyfriend for heaven’s sake!”

“Everyone always wants to bloody well protect me!” she screamed, as the fire peaked within her. Harry stepped forwards and put his arms around her. She resisted but didn’t really fight him. “Don’t go too far that I can’t see you, Ginny! They’re boys, Ginny, don’t worry about them!” she cried. Her mocking laughter scared him a little. “I’ve always been the precious little girl. The youngest. Everyone thinks I’m so bloody delicate.”

“I don’t,” he said.

“Yeah, you prove that often enough, don’t you?” Her voice had lost a lot of its harshness, though, as she began to relax into his embrace.

“Ginny, I was just doing what I thought was right. And if I remember rightly, you had my back too,” he murmured.

“I know, but I’m sick of my family treating me like I need a bubble around me. And now that you’re going to be a part of us, I was just...” she said in a muffled whisper, as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“Scared that I’d be the same?” he whispered back. They didn’t notice the other Weasleys as they walked off silently to sort out the food. The marshals seemed to recognise the need for a moment, since they didn’t make any of their regular announcements over the PA system. “I would’ve thought you could have a go at your family if they were acting up like that.”

“Have you ever seen me play Quidditch with everyone else?” she asked rhetorically, and a little bitterly.

He scratched his head with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her. “But... you’re an amazing flier.”

“I didn’t ask if I’d flown before, did I?” she said, leaning back with a mischievous glint in her eye.

He grinned in appreciation. “You couldn’t possibly be implying that...” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him just a fraction. “... you enjoy my company that much, could you?”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Don’t let your head swell too much, hmm? Wouldn’t want you to be an easy target now, would we?” she said silkily.

Harry blinked, his eyebrows rising. “As if they could get a bead on me,” he replied haughtily.

“I suppose our... enemies do need all the help they can get...”

“Plan on giving it to them?”

“Well, let’s not be hasty...” Ginny replied.

“And since when are we hasty?”

“That’s the twins’ job, of course.”

They looked at each other, but neither could hold a straight face, and they both fell about laughing.

The next map after their quick pizza lunch went by very quickly – quickly enough that George had his opportunity to chat up his Muggle girl during the interval. Fred, of course, did his damnedest to interfere, but even still, George was rewarded with her ‘telephone number’. He went to Dad to ask about telephones, and was shocked to find Ron explaining it to him.

“So, ickle Ronnikins, you wouldn’t have gotten any of this from that wonderfully intelligent brunette in your year, would you?” George smirked.

“What are you on about?” Ron replied. George didn’t miss the heat creeping into his little brother’s voice. It was noticing details like this that had made him so successful as a prankster, especially while getting himself (but mainly Fred) out of a lot of sticky spots.

“Oh, you can’t deceive me, little bro,” he said.

“It’s not like you’re one to talk, anyway,” Ron growled.

“Well, at least I have done something about it,” he remarked, revelling in the colouring of Ron’s ears.

He walked over to the spot where his sister was cosying up to Harry on a bench. He quelled his instinctive response to hex him off her. He trusted him, and while he didn’t trust Ginny at all, he knew she was strong enough to keep Harry in line. Besides, if Harry did anything to his baby sister, there’d be six wands causing him a lot of pain. Well, six once Bill and Charlie shifted their arses from their fancy foreign jobs.

“So, Harry...” he began.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up, although keeping his head turned to one side. George’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, but he could deal with whatever Harry and his sister had been getting up to after he’d found a way to keep in contact with Laura.

“Oh, hello George,” Ginny mocked. George made a face at her.

He checked his posture and expression before beginning. “Well, you see Harry, I was hoping for a bit of a favour. You see...”

“He really fancies that girl over there, and wants something Muggle to keep in touch with her,” Ginny whispered loudly.

He made a face at Ginny, and then turned his most winning smile on Harry.

“I’m not sure, I mean I was going to ask Dad about it because I’m sure he’d love it, but there’s no telephone wires up to the Burrow...” Harry trailed off and sighed at their evidently blank faces.

“So, uhh, how do I play this?” George asked.

Harry’s face scrunched up, and George groaned inside. He’d have to hope that girl, Jennifer, lived somewhere near Ottery St. Catchpole. He glanced back towards her group, and returned her grin.

“Maybe if you look for a payphone in the village?” Harry offered. “If not I’m sure one of the shops would let you use their phone. Might make you pay, but...”

Ginny whispered something in Harry’s ear and giggled. George’s eyes narrowed again. She was truly infuriating.

“Ginny!” Harry gasped, sounding scandalised. “We’d all need to use it!”

George glared at his sister. “Well, thanks, Harry. I’d, err, best be off. Got to, um, clean my goggles.”

“You do that,” Harry smirked, turning back to look at him fully. This simple motion displayed the hickey in all its glory.

“Ginny!” George cried indignantly.

Ginny smirked evilly. “What, did you want one?” His eyes bulged. It had definitely been too early for Ginny to have a boyfriend. They’d needed another year or two to condition her - talent like hers couldn’t be wasted! She pointed past him. “Go on then, George,” she said, the giggles overcoming her.

He shook his head wearily. ‘What am I going to do about those two?’

‘Well, you could always go get that hickey...’ Fred began.

‘Shut it, you, or I’ll reverse the glamours on your neck!’ George shot back.

George took great pleasure in watching his brother gulp. Maybe he’d do it anyway. It was certainly more like his brother to do something like that, but after today, there wouldn’t be any more jokes about Fred’s relationship with Angelina. ‘Oh well, it’s not like I was against it in the first place.’ He unashamedly strolled over to the head of long, dark brown hair. It couldn’t be too hard to explain away little things like Hogwarts. Muggles had boarding schools, didn’t they?

Harry was laughing aloud during the last map. He’d been able to feel Ginny’s excitement and glee radiating from her, and it was such a welcome change from the anger he’d been feeling from her earlier, he felt like he had nothing better to do than sweep her off her feet. However, he knew Ginny would hate him for it at that moment, so he’d battled on.

His proudest moment came when he was running back from an ambush. He’d run into a tree and two paces up it, then back flipped off, allowing him to evade the volleys of blue paintballs that scarred the sycamore with orange paint . Upside down, Harry had splattered each of his dumbfounded opponents. How he’d managed to take out three people with his sidearm, he had no clue, since the rifles didn’t work upside-down. But when the marshals had to start shooting at them to even out the teams, ‘war-cry’ was not sufficient to describe the sounds that were coming out of their mouths.

The rest of the day was very calm in comparison. Mum had informed them that they had two hours before they’d be heading for the bus home. Everyone, even Percy, complained at this, but she was adamant that they should be home before six. They went to Blockbuster to pick up a couple of movies, and walked out with a small bag each.

He did his best to hide price tags and such, but he knew that Mum was unhappy just because he was letting everyone buy anything they wanted. The only things keeping her from dragging them all home were probably a mixture of her clearly enjoying the paintballing, plus the fact that all this would be a far superior education in Muggles than anything the school could provide. He knew that Muggle technology fizzled and failed at Hogwarts since Dean’s Sony Discman had actually partially melted after giving the poor guy two seconds of memorable earache.

Of course, the movies would only really be educational if he kept telling everyone what was real and what was faked. An evil grin spread across his features as they headed for the bus stop. Ginny poked him in the shoulder, grinning back.

“You’re going to have to tell me what you have planned, mister. I know that look. It’s the same one you had on your face when you decided to put grease on Malfoy’s broom,” she stated. He sighed dramatically.

“You have to admit that while I don’t work at the twins’ level, when I play a prank it is funny.”

“Only because I’m there, too,” she reprimanded him.

“Of course,” he Harry replied with a grin, stooping into a low bow. She giggled, unaware of her parents smiling at their antics.

“Hey, Harry listen. We appreciate all this, you know.”

“Not everyone,” he mumbled, glancing back at Mum.

“Oh, sod it... I appreciate it. I know you aren’t thick enough to try and buy your way into the family. Nearly, but not quite there,” she said slyly.

The intense look he gave her made her squeal, with a moment of indecisiveness before she ran to hide behind Ron. He laughed. “Oi, Ron, do me a favour? Tickle your sister for me.”

He raised his arms, a bag in each, and shrugged. “Sorry mate,” he said calmly, although a smile was tugging at his lips. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’ll get you later,” Harry mouthed to her.

She smirked. “Do your worst, Potter,” she mouthed back.

Harry gave Ginny and Ron a lazy grin as he half-sat, half-fell into his chair. He’d had the longest, most peaceful night’s sleep that he could remember. Paintballing had taken far more out of him than he’d expected. Ron, of course, barely acknowledged him, enchanted as he was by Super Mario Land on his new Game Boy. In fact, Harry started wondering if Ron had noticed him at all, since he had earphones in. The question was answered when Ginny subtly dug her heel into Ron’s shin. He jumped, shooting her a quick glare. He grinned happily at Harry, gesturing to the game console before sinking right back into the virtual, 8-bit world. Ginny sighed theatrically before giving Harry a quick kiss.

“Eat up, I’m going to see if the twins have come up with anything clever to get the dimwit over there off his new toy,” she grinned.

“An alliance? Wow, this must really be pissing you off!” he said with mock astonishment.

“Language, Harry,” she smirked before jogging off up the stairs.

Shaking his head, Harry reached for the bacon. It was then that he realised that Ron wasn’t eating. He did a double-take, checking both of Ron’s hands before sitting back in his chair in amazement. Perhaps Ginny was right after all...

He finished a quick breakfast before heading up to find the three of them. It was for a noble cause, after all. He didn’t see Ron punch the air behind him, but heard the ecstatic: “Yeah! Level 9!” Eyes widening slightly in disbelief and amusement, he picked up the pace.