~ The Burrow ~
"Ron!" Harry gasped.
The black-haired boy went to his sister and shook her awake.
Lucy wanted to hiss at Harry, but then her eyes fell to the window.
"What the–"
The twins walked to the window and Harry pushed it up so they could talk to Ron through the bars.
"Ron, how did you–? What the–?"
His jaw dropped as he realized what he was looking at.
Ron leaned out the rear side window of an old turquoise car parked in mid-air.
In the front of the car sat Fred and George, Ron's older twin brothers, grinning at Lucy and Harry.
"All right, you two?"
"What's been going on?" said Ron. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles–"
"It wasn't us," Harry explained.
"And how does he know that?" Lucy asked.
"He works for the Ministry," said Ron. "You know we're not supposed to do spells outside school"
"You should talk," Lucy replied, looking at the floating car.
"Oh, this doesn't count," said Ron. "We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with–"
"We told you, we didn't - but it'll take too long to explain now - look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked us up and won't let us come back, and obviously we can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'll think that's the second spell we've done in three days, so -"
"Stop gibbering," said Ron. "We've come to take you home with us."
A wide grin spread across Lucy's face.
"But you can't magic me out either–"
"We don't need to," Ron said, grinning and nodding at his brothers. "You forget who I've got with me."
"Tie that around the bars," Fred said, tossing the end of a rope to Harry.
"If the Dursleys wake up, we're dead," said Harry, tying the rope tightly around the grille while Fred revved the engine.
"Don't worry. We won't let that happen," said Fred. "But get away from the window."
Harry backed a few steps into the darkness and waited next to Hedwig's cage.
Newt, who had also woken up, walked around Lucy's legs.
The young witch took her cat in her arms and carried him to his carrying basket.
The cat climbed in on its own and Lucy closed the little door.
Apparently both animals realized something important was going on and didn't make a peep.
The engine roared and with a crunch the car tore the grille out of the window frame and shot up into the air.
Harry ran back to the window and saw the grate swinging a good three feet off the ground. Ron, breathing heavily, pulled it up inside the car.
Both twins listened anxiously, but nothing could be heard from the Dursleys' bedroom.
With the grille stowed in the back seat next to Ron, Fred backed up as close to the window as possible.
"Get in," said Ron.
"But all our Hogwarts stuff - our wands, my broomstick-"
"Where is it?"
"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and we can't get out of this room -"
"No problem," George said from the passenger seat, "Out of the way."
Fred and George carefully climbed through the window into Lucys and Harry's room.
"Lucy– our favorite Potter," Fred joked, hugging her.
Lucy giggled and shook her head slightly.
"I think Ron would disagree," she pointed out.
Fred just shrugged.
While Fred and Lucy chatted briefly, George had pulled a hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the door lock.
"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," said Fred, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow."
"That's really cool," Lucy murmured enthusiastically. "Can you teach me?"
"Sure," Fred and George replied simultaneously.
The door opened with a soft click.
"So - we'll get your trunks - you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron," whispered George.
"Watch out for the bottom stair– it creaks," Harry whispered, and the twin brothers disappeared up the dark staircase.
Lucy and Harry darted around the room, collecting their things and handing them to Ron through the window.
Then they helped Fred and George carry the suitcases up the stairs.
Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.
Finally, out of breath, they reached the top of the stairs.
They carried the suitcases through Lucy's and Harry's room to the open window.
Fred climbed back into the wagon to pull with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from inside.
Inch by inch, the suitcase slipped through the window.
Uncle Vernon coughed again.
Harry and George threw their shoulders against the second of the two suitcases, and it slid through the window into the back seat.
"Okay, let's go," whispered George.
But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill, he suddenly heard a loud screech behind him, followed immediately by Uncle Vernon's thunderous voice.
"THAT RUDDY OWL!"
"I've forgotten Hedwig!"
"Are you serious," Lucy hissed. She had given the carrying basket and Newt to Ron first.
Harry ran over to Hedwig and at that moment the hall light came on.
He grabbed Hedwig's cage, rushed back to the window and handed it out to Ron.
He had just climbed onto the dresser when Uncle Vernon banged on the open door, which flew open with a loud crack.
For a moment Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway; then he began to rage like a raging bull.
He lunged at Harry and clutched his ankle.
Ron, Fred, George and Lucy grabbed Harry's arms and pulled him outside with all their might.
"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "They're getting away! They're GETTING AWAY!"
But with a mighty tug, the Weasleys and Lucy freed Harry's foot from Uncle Vernon's grip.
Harry was in the car now - he had slammed the door behind him-
"Put your foot down, Fred!" Ron shouted and the car was already chasing towards the moon.
Lucy and Harry couldn't believe it - they were free.
Harry rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair and he looked down at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive.
Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were hanging out of Harry's window as if struck dead.
Lucy also leaned towards the window.
"See you next summer!" the Potter twins yelled.
There was a boom of laughter from the Weasleys, and Harry sank into the back seat, grinning ear to ear. And Lucy, no less happy, sat down again.
~~
"Let Hedwig out," Harry said to Ron, "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."
George gave Ron the hairpin, and a moment later Hedwig was already happily darting out the window, where she was now hovering like a ghost beside them.
"So– what's the story?" said Ron impatiently. "What's been happening?"
Harry told them everything from Dobby's warning to the violet dessert disaster.
There was a long, dismayed silence when he finished.
"Very fishy," said Fred finally.
"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"
"I don't think he could," said Harry. "We told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."
Fred and George looked at each other.
"What, you think he was lying to us?"
"Well," said Fred, "put it this way — house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"
"Yes," Harry and Ron ground out at the same time.
"Draco Malfoy," said Harry. "He hates me."
"Draco Malfoy?" George repeated, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"
"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" Harry said.
"Why?" Lucy wanted to know.
"I heard Dad talking about him," George said. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."
"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, turning to Harry, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You- Know-Who's inner circle."
The twins had heard these rumors about Malfoy's family before and they didn't surprise them.
Compared to Malfoy, Dudley Dursley struck them as a nice and thoughtful boy.
"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf..." Harry said.
"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.
"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. Houseelves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."
Harry said nothing.
Sending the family servant to keep him and his sister from returning to Hogwarts - that was just like Malfoy.
Had he been stupid to take Dobby seriously?
Lucy knew what her brother was thinking but said nothing about it. She felt that there was another explanation.
"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," said Ron. "I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first–"
"Who's Errol?" Harry asked.
"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes–"
"Who?"
"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," explained Fred from the driver's seat.
"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."
"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge... You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing to a compass on the dashboard.
Fred turned the wheel.
"So, does your dad know you've got the car?" Harry asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"Er, no," said Ron, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."
"What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?", Lucy asked.
"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
"The what?"
"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare– Dad was working overtime for weeks."
"What happened?"
"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office - and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up–"
"But your dad– this car–"
Fred laughed, which automatically made Lucy smile.
"Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."
"That's the main road," George said, peering through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light..."
The east the horizon began to shimmer pale pink.
Fred lowered the car and Lucy saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.
"We're a little way outside the village," said George, "Ottery St. Catchpole."
The flying car sank lower and lower. The first rays of the bright red sun pierced the trees.
~~
"Touchdown!" Fred shouted as they hit the ground with a slight rumble.
They had landed next to a ramshackle garage in a small yard and for the first time Harry saw Ron's house.
It looked as if it had once been a large stone pigsty, but more rooms had been added at every nook and cranny.
Until the house was several stories high and so crooked that it looked like it was being held together by magic (which Harry reasoned was probably true).
Four or five chimneys rose from the red roof.
A sign stuck in the ground next to the door read upside down: ' THE BURROW'
Piles of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron lay around the entrance.
Several fat brown chickens were pecking in the yard.
"I's not much," said Ron.
"It's wonderful," said Lucy and Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.
They got out of the car.
"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and Lucy and no one need ever know we flew the car."
"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the - at the top–"
Ron had turned ugly green and was staring at the house.
The other four spun around.
Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kindfaced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.
"Ah," said Fred.
"Oh dear," said George.
Mrs. Weasley stopped in front of them, hands on hips, looking from one guilty face to the next.
She wore a floral apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.
"So," she said.
"Morning, Mum," George said in a voice he apparently thought sounded carefree and ingratiating.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" hissed Mrs. Weasley in a deadlywhisper.
"Sorry Mum, but see, 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 - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy–"
"Perfect Percy," Fred murmured.
"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, pointing her finger at Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job–"
It seemed to go on like this for hours.
Mrs Weasley had screamed herself hoarse even before she turned to Lucy and Harry, who backed away from her.
"Very happy to see you, dears," she said. "Come in and have some breakfast."
She turned and walked back into the house and after a nervous look at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, Harry followed her.
Lucy stood still for a moment.
After a few steps, Fred stopped and turned to her.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Lucy nodded before following the small group into the house.
~~
The kitchen was small and quite crowded.
A worn wooden table and chairs stood in the center; Lucy sat on the edge of a chair and looked around.
She and Harry had never been in a wizard's house before.
The clock on the opposite wall had only one hand and no digits at all.
Along the edge were things like 'Time for tea', 'Time to feed the chickens' and 'You're late'.
The mantelpiece was stacked three rows deep with books: How to Make Your Own Cheese, read one title, or Magic Baking and Feasting in a Minute - It's witchcraft!
And if Lucy was to believe her ears, a voice from the old radio over the sink had just announced the 'Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck'.
Mrs. Weasley was clattering about in the kitchen, rather haphazardly preparing breakfast, scowling at her sons and frying sausages.
Every once in a while she'd murmur something like, 'Don't know what you were thinking' and 'I never expected that from you'.
"I don't blame you," she assured Lucy and Harry, piling eight or nine sausages onto each of their plates.
"Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate) "flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you -"
She casually flicked her wand at the dishes in the sink, which were washing themselves, clinking softly in the background.
Lucy looked at the full plate and couldn't believe her eyes. She was never allowed to eat her fill at the Dursleys, but it had never been as bad as it had been in the last few days.
"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.
"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" snapped Mrs Weasley.
"They were starving them, Mum," Ron said. "Put bars in their window."
"You best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley," threatened Mrs. Weasley.
With a slightly soothed expression on her face, she began slicing and buttering loaves of bread for Lucy and Harry.
At that moment, they were distracted by a small, red-haired figure in a long nightgown, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a high-pitched shriek, and hopped out again.
"Ginny," Ron said to Harry in a low voice. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred grinned, but he caught his mother's eye and silently began to pick at his plate.
No one said another word until all five plates were empty, which was surprisingly quick.
"Bimley, am I tired," Fred yawned, finally putting down his knife and fork. "I think I'll go to bed and–"
"You will not," snapped Mrs Weasley, "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again–"
"Oh, Mum–"
"And you too," she said, glaring at Ron and George.
"You can go to bed, dears," she said to Lucy and Harry, "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car–"
But Harry, feeling wide awake, said quickly, "I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming–"
Lucy nodded in agreemend. Ron and the twins just wanted to help her and Harry and had in fact taken them away from the Dursleys, the least they could do was help them.
"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockharts got to say on the subject–"
And she pulled a heavy book from the mantelpiece. George groaned.
"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden–"
Lucy looked at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's book.
On it, in intricate gold letters, were the words: Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests.
On the cover was a photo of a 'very handsome' wizard with flowing blond hair and light blue eyes.
As always in the wizarding world, the photograph moved and the subject, apparently Gilderoy Lockhart, gave them a sly wink.
Mrs Weasley looked down at him with bright eyes.
"Oh, he is marvelous," she said. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book..."
"Mum fancies him," Fred whispered loudly.
"Don't be ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks distinctly pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."
Grumbling and yawning, the Weasleys shuffled outside, Lucy and Harry in tow. The garden was large and just to the liking of Lucy and Harry.
The Dursleys wouldn't have liked it - there were a lot of weeds and the grass needed mowing– gnarled trees lined the wall.
The flower beds were full of plants Lucy had never seen before, and a large green pond was full of frogs.
"Muggles have garden gnomes too, you know," Harry said as they walked across the lawn.
"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, kneeling down and burying his head deep in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods..."
There was a violent tug, the peony bush trembled, and Ron straightened. "This is a gnome," he said grimly.
"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" the gnome squeaked.
He didn't look like Santa at all. He was short and leathery and had a big, knobbly bald head like a potato.
Ron held him out at arm's length because he was kicking around with his calloused little feet; he grabbed him around the ankles and dangled him head down.
"This is what you have to do," he said.
He picked up the gnome ("Gerroff me!") and began swinging it like a lasso over his head.
When he saw the terrified faces of the Potter twins, Ron said:
"It doesn't hurt them– you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes."
He let go: the gnome flew ten meters through the air and landed with a thud in the field beyond the hedge.
"Pitiful," Fred commented on the throw. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."
Harry quickly realized that there was no need to feel too sorry for the gnomes.
He was about to drop the first one he caught on the other side of the hedge, but the gnome, sensing his weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger
He struggled to shake it off until– "Wow, Harry - that must've been fifty feet..."
Soon the air was filled with flying gnomes.
"See, they're not too bright," said George, who had grabbed five or six gnomes at a time.
"The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."
Small shoulders hunched; the gnomes began to march away across the field in single file.
"They'll be back," said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge across the field. "They love it here... Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny..."
At that moment the front door slammed shut.
"He's back!" George said, "Dad's home!"
They ran back into the house through the garden.
Eyes closed and glasses in hand, Mr. Weasley had slumped in a kitchen chair.
He was thin and had sparse hair, but it was as red as his children.
His long green cloak was dusty and threadbare.
"What a night," he murmured, reaching for the teapot as the boys settled around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned..."
Mr Weasley took a long sip of tea and sighed.
"Find anything, Dad?" Fred wanted to know eagerly.
"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," Mr Weasley yawned. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness..."
"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" asked George.
"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it.. Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face... But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe -"
"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"
Mrs. Weasley had appeared in the kitchen, holding a long poker like a sword.
Mr Weasley's eyes widened. He stared guiltily at his wife.
"C-cars, Molly, dear?!
"Yes, Arthur, cars," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."
Mr. Weasley blinked.
"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth... There's a loophole in the law, you'll find... As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't–"
"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry and Lucy arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly."
"Harry? Lucy?" said Mr Weasley cluelessly, "Harry and Lucy who?"
He looked around, saw Lucy and Harry and jumped up.
"Good lord, is it Harry and Lucy Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about–"
"Your sons flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"
"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Did it go all right? I - I mean," he faltered as he saw the look on his wifes face, "that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed..."
"Let's leave them to it," Ron whispered in Harry's ear as Mrs Weasley swelled up like a bullfrog. "Come, I'll show you my bedroom."
Almost at the same time, Fred tapped Lucy and motioned for her to go with the two boys.
The three of them crept out of the kitchen and down a narrow hallway to a crooked staircase that zigzagged up through the house.
A door stood open on the third floor.
Harry could just see a pair of light brown eyes staring at him before they closed.
"Ginny," said Ron, "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally–"
Ron stopped short and addressed Lucy.
"You're staying in Ginny's room. You can knock to put your things in if you want."
Lucy nodded. That was a good idea. Besides, she didn't want to annoy the two boys any further.
The black-haired girl knocked on the door, Ginny opened it and let her into the room.
Lucy and Ginny talked for a while until Lucy taught the younger girl a muggle card game.
Harry's sister wouldn't admit it, Ginny won every game.