Black

That's all Harry could see, he could hear several cries at the back of his mind but all he could sense now was darkness.

Gradually, his senses came back to him. He was then able to blearily blink his eyes a few times before promptly closing it again.

Judging from the vibrations under his arse, he guessed he was in a moving object, presumably a car or train. A hand was shaking his shoulder and the voices became clearer.

"Harry, mate you alright?"

He knew the voice belonged to Ron but was dumbfounded at why it sounded so high. Last time he checked Ron had the deepest voice out of everyone in his dormatory.

Rubbing his eyeslids and putting on his glasses that were thrusted into his hands, he opened his eyes and what he saw almost made him shit his lousy, passed down, trousers.

He did the alternative instead.

He screamed.

His scream effectively startled the driver, one of the twins, Fred he supposed, which made the car sway from left to right repeatedly until said twin got a hold of the wheel.

"Harry? What's wrong?!" A panicked Ron asked.

Harry seemed to have regained some control and shook his head lightly. "Oh...nothing....what happened anyway?"

Ron frowned, "George was telling us about that time dad took Ginny to work without us and then next thing we know you passed out. Your skin turned a bit orange then red and then back to normal then you woke."

Harry took his time to properly survey his surroundings, taking note that they were now somewhere over british farmlands and the sun's hands were slowly peeking out.

"But..but Sirius...but Department of Mysteries...Ginny.." he spluttered weakly.

"Sirius? Best hope you don't mean Sirius Black mate, notorious mass murderer he is and what about Ginny? I wasn't aware you and her have met." George inquired.

Harry's blood boiled. Either this was a coherent trick and illusion played by Voldemort or he really did seem to move back to the past...and in his younger body as well.

Fred and George looked as identical as ever, but they were smaller in height and had wider cheeks and high voices. Both looked over at the rear view mirror at Harry whilst simultaneously raising a ginger eyebrow.

"No-Nothing!" Harry squeaked.

Now it was Ron's turn to look at him quizzically.

"If you say so. Look-" replied Fred.

"-we're almost there!" finished George.

Sure enough, over a distance, a tall crooked, multiple story house was coming into view. The Burrow looked as hectic and unstable as ever, filled with many gardens and animals- just like how Harry loves it.

One of the twins quietly parked the car near the back door and stopped it. One by one, they stepped out and silently walked to the door over to the kitchen.

Harry looked around, it was the same as- well the future he supposed. Many peices of clothes and knick-knacks were still scattered. The many paintings, children's drawings and the famous family clock still braced the walls.

Ron stood beside him, happily munching on a nicked strawberry muffin. "It's not much...but it's home."

Harry turned to him and smiled, saying what he thought he said last time. "It's absolutely brilliant!"

Ron turned pink.

Harry continued to look around when he spotted Ron abruptly hide his muffin and turn a shade of green that clashed horribly with his hair.

At the same time as the twins, he whirled around to see Mrs. Weasley, who just landed on the bottom step, briskly walk towards them. No matter how kind-faced Mrs. Weasley is, Harry's still terrified of her, even with the frilly, flowery apron she wears.

She came to a halt infront of them, hands on her hips and tapping her feet impatiently.

"Okay so." she said impatiently

"Good Morning Mother, you're looking fine today." said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but we had to —"

All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone!" She spat furiously, probbing their chests at a time. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —"

It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who had looked away from the whole ordeal.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Harry, dear," she said with a warm smile. "Come on and have some breakfast."

Harry sat down on one of many wooden chairs at the dinning table. He was quickly faced with a rather large plate of bacon, eggs and sausages.

He looked up, caught Mrs. Weasley's eyes and turned red. "Mrs. Weasley?"

She turned to him. "Yes dear?"

"I don't think I could eat this much" he protested weakly and as politely as possible.

Mrs. Weasley frowned and let her eyes wander over his loose shirt and it's arm holes. "Well, you need it dear, no offense meant my child, but your as thin as a board."

Harry shrugged apologetically and looked around the room again, predicament momentarily forgotten. The Burrow's kitchen was always an interesting place to be, don't get him wrong, Harry loves his godfather immensely but this kitchen is a far better sight than the one at Grimmauld.

He was munching happily on his meal and conversing with Ron when footsteps were heard bounding down from the stairs.

Ginny landed with a thump, hair all tousled. Her hair was a brighter shade of red as opposed to the darker one she sported at 14. She was smaller in height, had bigger cheeks and seemed to be in panic. Right now, her eyebrows were creased in a frown while her lips were parted. She was shaking.

"Mum?..MUM??...What date is it?...Sirius..You know who..red...orange..Harry.." she spluttered frantically whispering the last seven words.

"What has gotten into every one today? It's July 31st 1992 sweetie. I wonder if you have a temperature..." she bustled over to her and placed a hand over her forehead. Mrs. Weasley's brow furrowed, "You seem to be just fine dear, have a seat, a good spot of breakfast could help."

Ginny glanced at the table, eyes widening in horror. Fred and George caught her expression, one of them nudged Ron and gestured over to her. Ron grinned wickedly. "Morning sis, have a seat. This is Harry by the way, Harry Potter."

Taking a deep breath and moving her still messy hair away from her face, she smiled and nodded, "I'm Ginny and you probably already know my last name so..." She shrugged and plopped on the seat next to him.

Her brothers stared at her incredulously, wondering how she so easily sat next to Harry Potter without so much as blushing.

Harry was suddenly filled with hope. He was absolutely sure that this was not how Ginny reacted to first meeting him the last time 'round.

When her mother turned back to her pots and pans, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it four times, a code for the other to know if that was really them.

She didn't react when he took her hand but when she felt him squeeze it the appropriate number of times, her eyes widened once more and she dropped her fork which was impaling several sausages.

She looked at him briefly and smiled wildly, eyes alight, cheeks puffing and dimples showing, she squeezed back four times as well.

Atleast, Harry mused, chewing on a strand of bacon. I'm not alone in whatever situation we're in.

Ron and the twins looked bemused at each other and at their conjoined hands. Harry noticed where their gazes were set and he quickly let go of her hand, looking apologetic.

"So, anything interesting going on?" Ginny asked after swallowing some buttered toast. She dusted her fingers to rid it of crumbs. Said crumbs were now scattered around her plate.

"Aside from the fact you're perfectly normal around Harry Potter? No, nope, none." George replied gleefully, finishing his own toast.

Mrs. Weasley, who heard the comment, smacked the back of his head lightly. "George Weasley! Stop tormenting your sister and finish your breakfast, the garden isn't going to degnome itself, dear."

"What'd you mean mum? I'm George and he's Fred!" Fred then furiously pointed to himself at 'George' and to George at 'Fred'. Ron and Ginny snickered a bit, everyone in their family knew the twins apart.

"Don't try that with me young man, I carried both of you in my womb for nine months, I think I can tell you apart." Molly warned. She then helped herself to plate of english breakfast.

The twins rolled their eyes affectionately at their mother. "Yes mum."

They proceeded to chat throughout breakfast with Harry including Ginny in most of his conversations, to the bewilderment of Ron. Arthur then came bounding through the kitchen door, clutching his battered suitcase while sporting a wide grin. "What a night! We had to deal with nine raids! Nine!"

Hey then kissed his wife and daughter's cheeks, ruffling the heads of all his sons, much to their annoyance. He stumbled over Harry's and did a doubletake. "My, my, Molly, when did we get a black haired one?" He sat on the head of the table, leaning back on his chair.

Harry felt the back of his neck flush with embarrassment. "Arthur dear, that's Ron's friend from school, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you sir." Harry said quietly, meeting the man's eyes.

Mr. Weasley's face morphed into one of recognition, he was impressed when his eyes didn't even stray to his cursed scar. "Well, are you really? Ron says you were raised by muggles," he then moved to a more professional position, his elbows resting on the table. "Tell me, what exactly is the function of a rubber duck?" he asked seriously.

He heard Ginny burst out laughing beside him, he held back a chuckle himself and proceeded to explain the function of a toy.