I'm saying goodbye to the skyline
Hello to the sweet pines
Gonna see you later street lights
I'm headed back to tree lines
To free time and starry nights
To bonfires and fireflies
Pack your bags it's time to go
'Cause we've got brighter lights back home

"Back Home"
Owl City feat. Jake Owen

HARRY:

I awoke with a start. My scar was on fire.

I pressed one hand to my forehead while I groped around for my glasses with the other.

What a horrible nightmare.

Still clutching my burning scar, I went to look at it in the mirror to see if it was bleeding or glowing or doing anything similarly unusual, but it looked just the same as it always did.

I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath. The dream had seemed so real --- maybe even too real.

In my mind's eye, I saw the snake on the rug, I saw Peter Pettigrew, I saw the old man. And Voldemort... I heard Voldemort. I heard Voldemort say he was going to kill me.

I suddenly opened my eyes and spun in a rapid circle, looking for anything out of the ordinary about my room. I saw nothing, nothing at all, but I didn't know if that made me feel better or worse.

I made my way over to the window and glanced up and down Privet Drive. There was nothing unusual out there, either, but I still couldn't shake the fear that was coiling itself around my chest.

The last time my scar had hurt, it was because Voldemort had been near. I needed to tell someone.

My eyes landed on the three birthday cards on my windowsill.

I spied Ron's first. How would he react to me telling him my scar hurt?

"Your scar hurt? But... but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean... you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he? I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit, I'll ask Dad..."

I couldn't possibly tell Ron. He'd worry too much, and he would tell his family, then they would worry too much. And I didn't want their worry to spoil the Quidditch World Cup.

I saw Hermione's next. As soon as the thought of telling her crossed my mind, I heard her immediately beginning to panic, clear as day.

"Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really serious! Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions, maybe there's something in there about curse scars."

I entertained the notion of actually telling Dumbledore for a moment. What would I even say?

Dear Professor Dumbledore,
   Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning.
      Yours sincerely, Harry Potter

There was no way I'd write to Dumbledore; I'd sound incredibly stupid. I found myself wondering where Dumbledore spent his holidays --- the thought of him on a beach somewhere was a funny one. Lucy would find it funny too.

My eyes landed on her card next. Lucy! I could tell Lucy anything, so why not this? She wouldn't overreact. She never did. But what would she say?

"That's alright, Harry, we can try to figure out why your scar hurt. Do you want me to ask Cedric? He might have learned something about curse scars this summer at St. Mungo's. In the meantime, we should plan our first real Hogsmeade trip together, you and me and Ron and Hermione. Would that take your mind off of things?"

The answer seemed so obvious --- Lucy was the person I could reach the fastest, anyway.

I grabbed the diary out from under my pillow and reached for the nearest quill. How could I possibly explain this? I started to write slowly.

Hey, Lu. Sorry to bother you. I know it's really really early, and hopefully you're still sleeping, but I didn't know who else to talk to. My scar hurt this morning. I don't know what to make of it, and I don't know if you will, either, but I thought you might want to know about it just the same. I don't want to tell Ron or Hermione quite yet --- they'd worry too much. But I had to tell somebody.

To my surprise, words began appearing on the page just below mine.

Are you alright, Harry? Does it still hurt?

I couldn't help but smile. "Hopefully you're still sleeping"... this was Lucy I was talking to. Of course she wasn't sleeping.

Not quite as much anymore. What in Merlin's name are you doing awake?

I just finished the last book from Archie. Bloody hell, Harry, it was too good to put down. I've been reading all night, it's terrible. But enough about me, what happened with you? You said you had a dream? Do you want to talk about it, or would you rather talk about something to get your mind off of it?

I smiled even wider. I knew Lucy would offer to distract me. I grew serious as I began to write, though.

Lucy, I saw Voldemort in my dream. And Peter Pettigrew was with him, and a huge snake. He killed an elderly Muggle man, and they said

I paused, massaging my scar again. I gripped the quill tighter and finished my sentence.

that they're going to kill me.

Lucy didn't reply for a moment, and when she did, her handwriting was shaky.

Harry... maybe you should tell someone else about this too, an adult. It sounds much more serious than either of us are really equipped to handle. Wait a second... Harry, have you told Sirius?

That's actually a great idea. I'll send a letter his way right now.

Speaking of letters, do you want me to ask Cedric about it? I won't mention the dream or even your name, if you want, I could just ask him about scars from curses. He might know something after the past couple months at St. Mungo's.

In spite of myself, I grinned again.

It's okay, Lu. You should get some sleep.

Are you sure you're alright? I wouldn't mind staying up if you'd like someone to talk to.

I'm sure. Sleep.

Alright, alright, I'll let you write to Sirius now. Oh, and if you think of it, please let him know I say hi both to him and to Beaky! And let me know if your scar starts hurting again, okay? I'll keep the diary close.

Alright. Good night, Lu. Or, well... good morning, I suppose.

Good morning!

I closed the diary and found a piece of parchment for my letter to Sirius. The sun began to rise as I wrote, and by the time the letter was complete, the sun was high in the sky. I didn't mention the dream --- I didn't want him to think I was scared. Besides, talking to Lucy had made me feel a little better; no matter what came next, I knew I could count on her to keep her wits about her. I skimmed the letter one last time before heading down to breakfast.

Dear Sirius,
   Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window.
   Things are the same as usual here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things.
   I'm okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to.
   A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward?
   I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she's off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me. Lucy says hi to you and Buckbeak as well.
      Sincerely, Harry

I had just finished my lovely grapefruit quarter for breakfast and was dreaming of the birthday cakes upstairs when Uncle Vernon returned to the kitchen after answering a knock at the door.

He glared at me. "You. In the living room. Now."

I jumped up, heart pounding, and followed him without a word. He slammed the door behind us and whirled around to face me.

"So. So."

I almost said "So what?" If I were at Hogwarts, I most certainly would have. But here, on Uncle Vernon's territory, I didn't dare. So instead, I bit my lip and offered a confused expression.

He flashed a purple piece of paper in my face. "This just arrived. A letter. About you."

He cleared his throat and began to read it out loud before I really had time to get any more confused. Who did I know that would send the Dursleys a letter about me through the postal system?

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," he growled. "We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. Hoping to see Harry soon! Yours sincerely, Molly Weasley. P.S. I do hope we've put enough stamps on!"

He reached into his jacket pocket and drew out an envelope completely covered in stamps. I had to clench my hands into fists and dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from chuckling. I loved Mrs. Weasley.

"She did put enough stamps on, then," I said, my voice trembling from barely-restrained laughter.

Uncle Vernon didn't find it quite so funny. "The postman noticed. Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That's why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny."

I mean... it was funny. I knew if Hermione had seen that envelope, she would have dissolved into a fit of giggles. But the Dursleys would never share her sense of humor. They lived in constant fear of their friends and neighbors somehow finding out that they were something other than the normal, perfect family they tried to pretend to be.

I stood frozen in place, knowing that if I didn't do anything stupid (like blowing up Aunt Marge) I could very well be allowed to go to the Cup. Surely he liked the sound of getting rid of me two weeks early... right? When he didn't say anything for several seconds, I opted to break the silence.

"So... can I go then?"

Another heavy silence fell. Uncle Vernon seemed to be arguing with himself. He would enjoy getting rid of me two weeks early, but the thought of letting me go to the Quidditch World Cup --- something that would make me happy --- gave him pause.

"Who is this woman?" he asked suddenly, turning the paper over in his hands to look at the signature again.

"You've seen her. She's my friend Ron's mother, she was meeting him off the Hog... off the school train at the end of last term."

Bloody hell, Harry, you can't say Hogwarts Express, I chided myself. Don't be stupid. You'd never get to go to the Cup at that rate.

Uncle Vernon thankfully didn't seem to notice my almost-misstep. He seemed to be trying to remember Mrs. Weasley. "Dumpy sort of woman? Load of children with red hair?"

I gritted my teeth. Uncle Vernon calling someone as angelic as Mrs. Weasley "dumpy" made my blood boil. But I kept my mouth shut, and didn't mention that Dudley had finally gotten bigger horizontally than he was vertically, making it ironic that he considered Mrs. Weasley dumpy.

"Quidditch... Quidditch? What is this rubbish?"

Anger flashed in me again. "It's a sport, played on broom-"

"Alright, alright!" he interrupted, clearly not too keen on hearing the rest of the word broomsticks. If only Lucy had heard him call Quidditch rubbish... I reckoned she'd have some choice words about his idea of sports. Uncle Vernon squinted at the letter again. "What does she mean, 'the normal way'?"

"Normal for us. You know, owl post. That's what's normal for wizards."

Uncle Vernon turned purple. "How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof? You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back-"

"Only after Dudley finished with them," I snapped back.

"I will not be spoken to like that!" he roared, but I forced myself not to flinch.

That summer, I had confided in Lucy, telling her some things I hadn't told anyone else, not even Ron. It wasn't that I didn't trust Ron --- because I did, with my life --- but something about Lucy was different. She understood me in a way nobody else did. Talking to her was as easy as breathing, whether it was actually talking face to face or just through the diary. It was because of Lucy, really, that I was able to stand up for myself now. I was going to go to the Quidditch World Cup, and I was going to see her and the Weasleys again.

I took a deep breath and pretended to give in. "Okay, I can't see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know, my godfather."

Uncle Vernon didn't know what to do. "You're... you're writing to him, are you?"

I had to fight the urge to smirk. I'd done it, I'd really done it.

I crossed my arms across my chest casually. "Well, yeah. It's been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn't, he might start thinking something's wrong."

It grew much, much harder not to smirk as his face flickered from emotion to emotion in rapid succession. Fear, anger, desperation, resignation. He had to let me go.

"Well, alright then. You can go to this ruddy, this stupid, this World Cup thing. You write and tell these... these Weasleys they're to pick you up, mind. I haven't got time to go dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your... your godfather... tell him... tell him you're going."

"Okay then!"

I did let myself smile as soon as my back was turned. I was so caught up in my joy I nearly ran into Dudley in the hallway.

High off my victory, I couldn't help but rib him just a bit. "That was an excellent breakfast, wasn't it? I feel really full, don't you?"

He stared at me, completely dumbfounded. I laughed then, feeling lighter than I had in several weeks, and sprinted up the stairs.

As soon as I entered my bedroom, a tiny owl collided with the side of my head. Hedwig clicked in annoyance as the little bird fluttered around my room, and I noticed a letter had been dropped at my feet.

   Harry, DAD GOT THE TICKETS! Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway.
   We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at two o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at two o'clock on Sunday anyway.
   Hermione's arriving this afternoon. Percy's still working — the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you.
   See you soon!
      Ron

The little owl --- Pig, was it? --- swooped over my head, and I could tell poor Hedwig was being driven mad by the incessant hooting. "Calm down, will you? Come here, I need you to take my answer back!" It landed on top of Hedwig's cage and cocked its head. I quickly scribbled a reply to Ron saying I'd see him the next day at five and sent the owl on its way. I turned to Hedwig with a smile.

"Feeling up to a long journey?"

She hooted back and lifted her head as if to say, "Yes, of course I am. Why even ask?"

"I have something for you to take to Sirius, as soon as I finish it. P.S.," I mumbled as I wrote, "If you want to contact me, I'll be at my friend Ron Weasley's for the rest of the summer. His dad's got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup!"

I handed Hedwig the letter and stroked the feathers on top of her head. "Same goes for you. I'll be at the Burrow by the time you get back, alright?"

She nipped my finger in understanding and flew out of the window in a flash of white wings.

Once Hedwig had flown out of sight, I reached for the diary under my pillow and wrote a quick note to Lucy, too.

You know, Lu, I already have my good thing and bad thing for the day. Bad thing, I had a weird dream and my scar hurt. But good thing, I'll be with the Weasleys tomorrow! Anywhere is better than here, but the Burrow has got to be one of my favorite places in the world.

I waited a few seconds to see if she would reply, but I was actually glad to see no other words forming. It meant she was asleep, which was a relatively rare thing for that girl, even over summer. I tucked the diary away again and crawled under my bed for my real breakfast --- a massive slice of chocolate birthday cake.

Today would be my last day on Privet Drive until next summer. I would see the Weasleys the very next day, and I would see Lucy at the World Cup the day after. Then, after that, it would be less than two weeks until school started again.

I smiled as I licked the last bit of chocolate frosting off of the tip of my fork. What a great day it had already been.

At two o'clock exactly the next day, everything was packed and ready to go. I was positively giddy with anticipation, but the Dursleys were anxious and irritable.

Uncle Vernon sniffed as he adjusted the collar of his best suit. "I hope you told them to dress properly, these people. I've seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. They'd better have the decency to put on normal clothes, that's all."

I had no words of reassurance to offer him. Knowing the Weasleys, the thought probably hadn't crossed their minds. But I hoped that with Hermione there, she might remind them to dress like Muggles.

"They'll be driving, of course?" he asked a couple minutes later.

"Er," I replied. I hadn't thought of that, either, in my excitement. With the Ford Anglia running free in the Forbidden Forest, how would they get to Privet Drive?

All three Dursleys disappeared in the living room to wait, whereas I sat closer to the front of the house, poised and ready to grab the door the second I heard the sound of a car pulling in the driveway.

I wasn't waiting long, however --- suddenly, there was a shout in the living room, and my aunt, uncle, and cousin all rushed out of the room looking as if they'd seen a ghost.

"What happened? What's the matter?" I asked.

Receiving no answer, I pushed past them into the living room. I soon realized what exactly the problem was: the Weasleys hadn't driven at all --- they were inside the boarded-up fireplace.

I could hear Mr. Weasley most clearly. "Ouch! Fred, no, go back, go back, there's been some kind of mistake! Tell George not to --- OUCH! George, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron-"

"Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad, maybe he'll be able to let us out!"

This was followed by about six fists pounding on the wood and three voices shouting, "Harry! Harry? Harry! Can you hear us?"

Uncle Vernon glowered at me. "What is this? What's going on?"

I could barely hide my amusement. I felt as if I'd explode from biting back my laughter. "They --- they've tried to get here by Floo powder. They can travel by fire, only you've blocked the fireplace --- hang on." I walked closer to the fireplace and raised my voice. "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"

The banging stopped.

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry. The fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."

"Damn! What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"

"They've got an electric fire."

Suddenly, he sounded incredibly excited. "Really? Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that! Let's think... ouch, Ron!"

"What are we doing here?" came Ron's voice. "Has something gone wrong?"

One of the twins sighed dramatically. "Oh no, Ron. No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."

"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," the other one said. I could tell them apart in terms of physical appearance, but Lucy was the only one who could tell their voices apart. She explained that being blind for a month made your ears incredibly sharp, which made sense to me. I Had told Lucy if that was what it took to tell their voices apart, though, I'd gladly pass. She had laughed and said she would have gladly passed, too.

"Boys, boys," Mr. Weasley said, snapping me from my daze. "I'm trying to think what to do... yes... that's the only way. Stand back, Harry."

I wisely backed away, but Uncle Vernon rushed forward. "Wait a moment! What exactly are you going to-"

An explosion shook the room as four Weasleys tumbled out of the fireplace onto the floor.

Mr. Weasley rose to his feet and grinned, extending a hand to Uncle Vernon, who quickly backed away. "That's better. And you must be Harry's aunt and uncle!" He surveyed the destruction in the living room and pursed his lips. "Er, yes, sorry about that. It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see. Just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking, but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I disapparate."

When neither Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia could think of a word to say back, Mr. Weasley turned to me. "Hello, Harry! Got your trunk ready?"

"It's upstairs," I reported happily.

"We'll get it!" Fred offered, and he and George took off in the direction of my room. I remembered Lucy mentioning that they were incredibly curious about seeing Dudley, and I hoped they got their wish. They would probably have plenty of funny things to say about him later.

Poor Mr. Weasley tried to break the tension. "Well, very... very nice place you've got here." But seeing as it was covered in dust and brick pieces, neither adult Dursley said anything. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and tried again, studying the TV and lamp across the room. "They run off eckeltricity, do they? Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs, and batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."

Dudley entered the room then, trying to hide behind his dad but failing.

"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yep, that's Dudley."

Ron and I exchanged a glance, looking away quickly so we didn't bust up laughing, but Mr. Weasley seemed concerned by the way Dudley was clutching his backside fearfully, the memory of the pig tail still fresh in his mind.

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?"

Dudley whimpered in reply as Fred and George returned. They grinned wickedly when they saw Dudley.

"Ah, right, better get cracking then," Mr. Weasley said. He drew his wand (making all three Dursleys stumble backwards in fright) and pointed it at the fireplace. "Incendio!"

He tossed a handful of Floo powder into the flames, making them burn bright green.

"I'll go," Fred volunteered. "Oh no..."

A bag of candies had spilled from his pocket, rolling in every direction. He scrambled around, shoving them back into his pocket, then stepped into the fire. He waved at the Dursleys and shouted, "The Burrow!"

After he vanished, George took the trunk, then Ron left.

I turned to the Dursleys. "Well, bye then."

I was just about to step into the fire when Mr. Weasley stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and turned me back around.

"Harry said good-bye to you. Didn't you hear him?"

My face turned red. "It doesn't matter. Honestly, I don't care."

Mr. Weasley's voice rose in anger. "But... you aren't going to see your nephew till next summer. Surely you're going to say good-bye?"

Uncle Vernon's eyes looked between me, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley's wand. He gritted his teeth. "Good-bye, then."

"See you," I replied, stepping into the fire. But before I could say where I was going, there was a retching sound and a scream.

Dudley was on his knees clutching at a horrific purple thing coming out of his mouth. I realized with amusement that it was his tongue. I didn't need to ask what had happened --- I could see that Fred had missed a candy, most likely... no, definitely on purpose.

Aunt Petunia tried to yank the purple monstrosity out of his mouth, so Dudley struggled against her.

Mr. Weasley had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard over the chaos. "Not to worry, I can sort him out!"

But when he approached Dudley to try to help, Aunt Petunia planted herself firmly between Dudley and Mr. Weasley.

"No, really! It's a simple process, it was the toffee! My son Fred, real practical joker --- but it's only an Engorgement Charm, at least, I think it is. Please, I can correct it!"

The chaos only increased. When Uncle Vernon started throwing china figures around the room, Mr. Weasley yelled for me to leave. I didn't want to miss a second of the action, but when an ornament almost hit me in the face, I shouted, "The Burrow!"

The scene disappeared in a rush of green flames. I spun faster and faster. The second I landed in the Burrow, Fred yanked me through the fireplace hole.

"Did he eat it?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah! What was that?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee! George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer."

The living room erupted with laughter, and I realized that Bill and Charlie were also there. They each came forward to shake my hand, but before anyone could ask any more questions about the Dudley incident, Mr. Weasley appeared in the living room with a pop.

"That wasn't funny, Fred! What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

Fred grinned. "I didn't give him anything. I just dropped it. It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose! You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George interrupted.

"It was more than a meter long before his parents would let me shrink it!"

We all exploded with laughter again.

Mr. Weasley shouted over us, "It isn't funny! That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"Wait, Dad, we didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" Fred protested.

George nodded. "Yeah, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git. Isn't he, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," I said, nodding as well.

"That's not the point! You wait until I tell your mother-"

"Tell me what?"

Everyone turned to stare as Mrs. Weasley entered the room. She smiled briefly at me. "Oh hello, Harry, dear." Her eyes hardened as she looked back at her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. I got the impression that Mr. Weasley hadn't actually intended to tell Mrs. Weasley anything, but now it was too late. Hermione and Ginny entered the room then, smiling and waving. I smiled and waved back. I glanced over their shoulders, looking for Lucy, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked again.

"It's nothing, Molly. Fred and George just... but I've had words with them-"

"What have they done this time? If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes-"

Mrs. Weasley was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"We'll get it!" Fred and George said simultaneously, ducking out of the room before Mrs. Weasley had room to protest.

I grinned at Hermione and Ginny and Ron. "Reckon we should follow them?"

With one look at Mrs. Weasley's face, they nodded in unison, and we made our way to the kitchen.

"I hope I made enough," Lucy was saying as she entered the kitchen from the other side, holding a massive basket in her arms. "I almost forgot Bill and Charlie were coming, but I remembered just in time so I..." She glanced up, and her blue eyes met mine. She smiled instantly. "Harry! Hi!"

She turned toward the twins, swatting Fred's arm. "You said he wasn't coming until tonight!"

Fred looked rather pleased with himself as he reached into the basket and extracted what looked like a chocolate chip cookie. "It was much more fun to surprise you." He took a bite and smiled. "New recipe?"

Lucy nodded. "I adjusted it slightly."

"Harry, Lucy's cookies are to die for," George said, reaching in for a cookie of his own. "You sent him some, right, Cub?"

Lucy turned bright red and shook her head. "No, I wanted to wait until today."

"What? Why?"

"They're best straight out of the oven," she explained, glancing at me sheepishly. "And I knew you were well-stocked on sweets, I was here the day Mrs. Weasley baked your birthday cake. But now's a good time, if you want to try one now."

"Fred and George Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley called from the other room. "Get in here!"

Lucy glanced quickly between the twins. "What happened? What did you do?"

"We found a test subject for the Ton-Tongue Toffee, as we promised yesterday," George explained with a grin.

"Good Godric, you two, you actually gave it to Dudley in front of your dad? Do you want me to try to defend you?"

"Don't worry about it, Cub," Fred said, ruffling her hair as they walked past. "Why don't you tell her about it, Harry?"

"Yeah, Harry, you didn't get to finish your story!" Ron said.

I made my way over to the basket of cookies and ate one while I explained what had happened as I was leaving the Dursleys.

"They were right, Lu, these are amazing," I said, reaching for another one. "But what was Mrs. Weasley talking about? Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, I think it was."

Before anyone could answer, Mrs. Weasley started shouting in the other room, and Lucy winced.

"Reckon we should head up to Ron's room?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, good idea," Ron replied, and we hurried up the stairs until we reached Ron's room.

Ron sat on his bed and explained, "Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room. Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things. We thought they just liked the noise," Ginny added with a laugh.

"Only, most of the stuff --- well, all of it, really --- was a bit dangerous, and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms. She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected."

"And then there was this big row, because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop."

A particularly loud shout managed to carry all the way to Ron's room, and Lucy winced again. "What they make is brilliant magic, though," she said. "They just need to, er, work on un-doing the magic, as you've probably gathered at this point. But what they've made works!"

"Yeah, especially the truth or dare game," Ginny said, smirking at Lucy, who turned the same shade of red as the Gryffindor Quidditch robes hanging on a peg behind her.

"Truth or dare game?" I echoed.

"We should play it tonight! It's Lucy's favorite game!"

Lucy shook her head vigorously, making her braids swing back and forth with so much force they hit her in the face. "You can all play if you want. I'm never touching that game again, especially not when Ginny's playing. She dared Fred to steal Percy's underwear once."

I laughed. "I reckon that didn't go over well."

"I wasn't even playing, and I heard the shouting from my room," Ron said, shaking his head.

"What's Percy up to, anyway?" I asked. "He wasn't down there with Bill and Charlie, unless I somehow missed him."

"Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work. If you couldn't already tell from the four beds in here, Fred and George are stuck in here with us while Bill and Charlie are here in their room."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?"

Ron barked out a harsh laugh. "Enjoying it? I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. 'According to Mr. Crouch, as I was saying to Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch is of the opinion, Mr. Crouch was telling me'... bloody hell, it's annoying. They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

Lucy laughed. "You're not wrong."

"How's Cedric liking St. Mungo's?" I asked. "Is he going to the Cup?"

She nodded. "He and a bunch of other St. Mungo's employees are taking a Portkey first thing in the morning, and he said he'll meet us at our tent. He loves being there, but he said he'll be glad to be back at Hogwarts. They've certainly kept him busy."

"Have you had a good summer, Harry? Did you get our food parcels and everything?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, thanks a lot. They saved my life, those cakes."

"And have you heard from...?" Ron started to ask, but Hermione silenced him with a single look. Lucy was the only one I'd told about hearing from Sirius.

Hermione cocked her head. "I think they've stopped arguing. Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, alright," Ron said quickly, hurrying out of the room.

I followed, but before I was out of earshot, I heard my name again.

"Does Harry have a secret girlfriend?" Ginny whispered. "Is that who Ron was asking about?"

"No, he doesn't have a secret girlfriend," Hermione hissed. "I told you he doesn't fancy anyone."

"Anyone?" Ginny echoed, a smug edge to her voice.

I walked a little faster, getting the distinct feeling I wasn't supposed to be hearing any of that. Ginny must still fancy me, I thought with a small smile to myself. I still very vividly remembered my first visit to the Burrow, where she probably spoke three words to me, maximum.

When we reached the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley sent the girls outside with plates and instructed Ron and me to take the cutlery. But when we got outside, we saw that the girls were all still carrying their plates because Bill and Charlie were playing with the tables. Yeah, with the tables. They each had a table flying around in the air, and they were using magic to smash them into each other. Fred and George were egging them on and Ginny and Lucy were struggling to hold onto their stacks of plates with how hard they were laughing, but Hermione stood off to the side, looking rather nervous.

Percy's head suddenly appeared. "Will you keep it down?!"

Bill chuckled, lowering his table. "Sorry, Perce. How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," he snapped, slamming his window shut.

Soon, the table was completely set, meaning we were left to our own devices until dinner was ready. So, naturally, a very informal game of Quidditch commenced.

Ginny quickly took charge of assembling the teams. "Let's see, we have nine people, so-"

"I don't really want to play," Hermione piped up. "I'm no good on a broom. I'll keep score."

"Fine, fine," Ginny said, drumming her fingers against her chin as she studied the rest of us. "That leaves eight... each team could have a Chaser, a Beater, a Keeper, and a Seeker. Harry and Charlie should obviously be the Seekers, and Fred and George should be the Beaters. Fred, George, choose your team."

"I'll take Lucy and be on Harry's team!" Fred said, grabbing Lucy by the elbow and parking her next to me. "Bill? Want to be our Keeper?"

The oldest Weasley shrugged. "Sure. Can't imagine I'd be good at any other position."

"Perfect!" Ginny declared. "That leaves my team with Charlie as Seeker, George as Beater, Ron as Keeper, and me as Chaser. Game on!"

It was probably the most competitive match I'd ever played in. We had to stay below the treeline so the Muggles in the nearby village didn't see us, meaning we played in very close proximity. Some of the equipment was very obviously improvised, too --- the Bludgers were just Quaffles that Bill and Charlie directed around the field with their wands, and Fred and George used large pieces of firewood as bats.

I'd never seen Lucy play so hard. She and Ginny were fierce competitors, sending sassy remarks back and forth every time they passed each other in the air.

"My grandmother could have thrown that Quaffle more accurately, Diggory!" Ginny called mockingly as she swooped down and caught the ball that had missed the makeshift hoop by no more than five centimeters.

"Shut it, Weasley, at least I've scored a goal!"

"Not fair! Ron's easier to score on!"

"Hey, leave me out of this!" Ron protested.

Lucy laughed. "She just means you're smaller so you take up less of the hoop! Nothing personal!"

Ginny lobbed the Quaffle at Bill, who caught it soundly and threw it back to Lucy. "Not fair!" the redheaded girl squawked again.

"Not to interrupt this great conversation," I called, "but do we even have a Snitch, real or makeshift?"

Ginny stopped suddenly. "Bloody hell, we don't. I forgot. You and Charlie are Chasers now!"

"Harry, catch!" Lucy shouted, sending the Quaffle flying my way. To my surprise, I did catch it, and I turned around to send it toward Ron, but before I could, Ginny had snuck up behind me and punched the Quaffle free. But before she could do anything, Lucy snuck up behind Ginny and punched the Quaffle free. She sped forward and sent the Quaffle through the goal hoop.

She spun around on her broom to face me, sweaty and smiling.

I smiled back. "Nice shot! Reckon this is why you're the Chaser and I'm the Seeker."

She blushed, smiling wider. "Reckon so."

The game continued until Percy appeared at the crest of the hill. "Dinner's ready! Er, if I may ask, what was the score? Who won?"

"It's a tie!" Hermione declared.

"I'll beat you next time, Diggory," Ginny said, bumping Lucy good-naturedly with her broom.

"Well, hopefully we'll be on the same team next time we play Quidditch together," Lucy replied, bumping her right back with a massive smile on her face. "Are you thinking of trying out for the team this year since Oliver graduated?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose as we flew down to the ground. "I'm not terribly keen on the idea of playing Keeper, but it's better than watching for another year."

"The team would be nearly half Weasley if you joined," Lucy chuckled, landing on her feet and swinging her broom over her shoulder in one fluid motion.

"More than half," Fred said, landing on Lucy's other side. "You and Harry are honorary Weasleys."

"And I know you're hoping to officially make Angelina a Weasley sooner than later," Lucy teased. "Hey, George, if you marry Alicia before you graduate, we could have a whole team of Weasleys, honorary or otherwise!"

"Oh shove off, Cub," George retorted, shoving her shoulder playfully.

"Why? Do you have another girl in mind?" Ginny asked.

"Let's play truth or dare tonight and find out!" Fred suggested.

"Lucy's favorite game?" I inquired.

Everyone laughed when her face grew bright red, and the sound of our laughter drowned out her protests. Merlin, Lucy really hated that game for some reason.

To my surprise, Lucy didn't sit between the twins at dinner, the way she always did at Hogwarts. She instead slid between me and Charlie, and as she sat down, I caught an inkling of... was that vanilla? Whatever it was, Lucy smelled good... really good.

The twins settled across from us and didn't miss a beat.

"Alright, so who's winning tomorrow?" Fred asked.

Charlie answered first, through a mouthful of mashed potato. "It's got to be Ireland. They flattened Peru in the semifinals."

"Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," George posited. "Cub, would you mind passing the pumpkin juice?"

Lucy poured a bit on her own potatoes before handing it to him. Charlie looked at her askance, and she laughed. "What, the pumpkin juice?"

He nodded. "I thought the twins were the only ones who did that."

Lucy shrugged, the tips of her ears reddening slightly. "It's not that bad, honestly. They convinced me it was worth a try my first year, and I've done it ever since. But to address your point, George, Krum's one decent player, though, and Ireland has got seven," she said. "Don't get me wrong, I think Krum's brilliant, but I don't know if he'll be enough."

"I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was," Charlie said.

"Who did they lose to again?" I asked, trying to recall all of the matches Lucy had mentioned to me.

"They were slaughtered by Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," she explained.

"Shocking performance," Charlie said with a shake of his head. "And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was absolutely murdered by Luxembourg."

"It's been a wild season," Lucy agreed. "Who is everyone hoping wins tomorrow, regardless of expectations?"

The consensus was Ireland, except for Ron, who insisted that Bulgaria was sure to win thanks to Krum. Once the Quidditch conversation died, Lucy asked Charlie about Norbert.

"Norberta," Charlie said, grinning.

"What? He's... she's... what?"

"Yup, Norbert's a girl! She was so tame when she first came to us, we were convinced she was a male, since they're less vicious than female dragons, but she's really established herself on the sanctuary."

"That's great news!" Lucy gushed. "Well, how is he- she, I mean?"

"Brilliant. One of the finest dragons I've ever seen. You should come visit sometime, I reckon you'd love the sanctuary. Have you thought about a career in dragonology? In any magizoology, really? I've heard you have a knack for creatures."

Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, smiling as her face reddened. "I've thought about it, certainly, but I'm not quite sure. When did you know that was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?"

"The day he was born," Bill piped up suddenly from a little further down the table. "You should tell her about the time you and your friends went with me on a mission for Gringotts and you got yourself cornered by... what was it? A Norwegian Ridgeback?"

"No, you all dueled the Norwegian Ridgeback while I was stuck in the Horntail's nest!"

"What?" Lucy looked between the brothers with wide eyes. "You're kidding!"

While Charlie was talking, Fred and George were looking very intently at something over her shoulder, grins spreading across their faces. I started to turn around to see what it was they were smirking at, but I received a sharp kick under the table from what felt like both of them. When I looked back, they were completely serious, as if they hadn't seen a thing. I shot them a bewildered look, but George shook his head in a Don't ask fashion. Fred held up a hand, and started counting down from five... four... three... two... one...

Someone put their hands over Lucy's eyes. She gasped. "Cedric?!"

Surely enough, Cedric was home.

When he began to laugh, Lucy wrenched her brother's hands away from her face and launched herself into his arms. He laughed, spinning her in a brief circle.

"Do Mum and Dad know you're back?" Lucy asked, staring up at him. "Merlin, Cedric, you got even taller."

"I think you grew a little too," he chuckled, patting her teasingly on the head. "Just a tiny bit, though. Yeah, I Floo-ed home to surprise you all, but Tuck was the only living being in the living room. Mum and Dad were in the kitchen and said you were having a party here, so I figured I might as well drop by and say hello to everyone before taking you home."

"Are you hungry, dear? We have plenty!" Mrs. Weasley said.

Cedric grinned. "I've eaten dinner, but thank you. It smells amazing."

"In that case, mate," Fred said, reaching down the table for the plate that was somehow managing to hold the tower of Lucy's cookies, "take one. Or five. They're probably fresher than you're used to. We've been spoiled by Lucy's stress-baking all summer."

Charlie patted the bench between him and Lucy. "You're just in time for the end of my dragon story. Though, come to think of it, I'm sure you've heard Adalyn's version."

Cedric grabbed a cookie and wedged himself between Lucy and Charlie. "That I have, but I would love to hear yours."

When Charlie's story was done, Bill asked Cedric if there were any notable stories about people he had gotten to meet at St. Mungo's, and he was all too happy to oblige. Cedric was a fantastic storyteller --- he soon had the attention of everyone at the table.

Lucy's face absolutely glowed in the candlelight. She seemed on top of the world. Fred had made the comment about Lucy's stress-baking, and I could see what he meant --- there had been a tension in Lucy's shoulders since the day she found out Cedric would be leaving. But it disappeared the second he returned. Even when Cedric said that they should be heading home and Mrs. Weasley announced that we needed to be heading off to bed so we'd be able to wake up early the next morning, she couldn't stop smiling. While he disappeared into the kitchen with the twins to grab the picnic basket Lucy had used to transport the cookies, Lucy and I walked alone to the edge of the property.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" she remarked in a voice that was almost a whisper as she looked up at the stars that were beginning to peek through the dark curtain of the sky.

"It is," I agreed.

"If I could freeze time... I think I'd want to stay here, tonight."

"Yeah... me too. Here is good. Tonight was..."

"Magical?"

"Yeah. Magical."

"I'd have to agree. I love this time of year, when nature starts to send subtle hints that autumn is coming. And I love the giddiness we all feel, knowing how exciting tomorrow is going to be. It feels like Christmas Eve, almost. And I love being here most of all, with the Weasleys and Hermione and Cedric and you..." Lu glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her smile deepening. "I'm glad you're back, Harry."

"And you're glad Cedric's back too, of course?"

She laughed softly. "Of course."

We heard footsteps behind us and turned in sync with each other. Cedric had the basket in the crook of his elbow, and he grinned at us. "See you in the morning, Harry, bright and early."

"See you then," I said with a nod, smiling at Lucy one last time.

She smiled back as she followed her brother down the dusty path that I knew led to their house. "Night, Harry."

"Night, Lu." I stood frozen in place until they disappeared from sight, then slowly turned and made my way back to the Burrow. Just before falling asleep that night, I had one final conscious thought.

Yeah... tonight was magical.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I realized I've never written a chapter from Harry's perspective while he's at the Dursleys, so I figured I should do that before Goblet of Fire starts and everything goes... downhill, if you will. Oh, and also --- please do me a favor and pretend Harry has short hair like in literally every other movie. Everyone's hair in the fourth movie except Cedric's was... yeah. Not my favorite.

Couple of quick announcements before you go! I start school (finally) next week, so I'm not 100% sure how often I'll be able to update. I'm going to try to stick to my Wednesday + Saturday schedule, but if the workload gets overwhelming, I might have to switch to once a week. I'm so sorry, I know this is literally the worst timing. On the bright side, you'll get more time with Cedric, technically speaking! ...which brings me to my second announcement. I'm planning on sticking to canon as far as Goblet of Fire is concerned, so consider yourselves warned.

Anyway, thank you all for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you think, and I'll see you all on Saturday with Chapter 51! (Wow, 51 chapters... that's crazy to me. Thank you for sticking with me this long!)