The Weasley House
Sirius was pretty much certain that the Weasley's house was held up by a ton of magic. It was several stories high, crooked, and had a few chimneys perched on the roof. Near the entrance was a lopsided sign the read, "The Burrow." A jumble of rubber boots and a rusty cauldron were scattered around the front door. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard. He loved it, partially because he could almost hear his mother's horrified shriek at the sight of the place.
"It's not much," Ron admitted.
"It's wonderful." Harry corrected, grinning.
"Come on." Fred said, "We'll have to be really quiet going upstairs, then when Mum calls us down for breakfast, Ron, you go bounding downstairs going, 'Mum look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be so pleased to see Harry that no one needs to know we flew the car. Agreed?"
George and Ron nodded. Harry started chewing his lower lip.
"Are you sure this is all right? I don't want you getting into trouble or anything."
"It's fine." George insisted, "Worst case, Mum yells at us three and you stick around til school starts. She won't be mad at you."
"Um, consider this worst case." Ron was staring at the house looking a little green.
Molly Weasley was marching across the yard towards them, scattering the chickens. For such a small, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.
"Oh, dear." George said. Fred gulped.
Molly came to a halt in front of them, looking from one guilty face to the next with her hands on her hips. Her wand stuck out of her apron pocket. Sirius was suddenly reminded of his own mother's anger and proceeded to thank every star he could think of, individually, that the Weasley's were nothing like his family.
"So," she said.
"Morning, Mum." George tried for a jovial, winning voice.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" She spoke in a deadly whisper.
"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to-"
The three Weasley boys cowered as Molly cut them off, this time in a yell.
"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." muttered Fred.
"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!!" She turned to Harry, who looked terrified. "Now I don't blame you, Harry dear. It is lovely to see you."
Molly rounded on her sons again, "You could've /died/, you could've been /seen/, you could've lost you father his /job/-"
She went on for what felt like forever, occasionally she would pause shouting at her sons to reassure Harry that none of this was his fault. Sirius was grateful to her for that. Once Molly had shouted herself hoarse she turned to Harry again.
"Come in, and have some breakfast. You must be starving."
Harry shot a nervous look at his friends, who all gave him encouraging nods, and followed Molly inside.
"Did you bring any dog food with you?" Molly asked.
Harry sighed, "No, I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"It's alright." she told him, "Are eggs and sausages alright for him?"
He nodded.
The kitchen was small and rather cramped. Harry looked at everything in awe. He'd never been in a wizard house before. The clock, the books, everything was sort of new to him. Sirius found himself watching Harry almost as eagerly as Harry was watching Molly cook.
Molly tipped eight or nine sausages onto Harry's plate and another five onto another which she set on the ground for Sirius, "Arthur and I have been very worried about you, you know. Just last night we were saying that we'd come get you ourselves if you hadn't written Ron back by Friday. But really," she added three fried eyes to Harry's and Sirius's plates, "flying an illegal car halfway across the country- anyone could have seen you-"
"It was cloudy, Mum!" Fred protested.
"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Molly snapped.
"They were starving him, Mum!" George tried.
"And you!" Her expression softened and started cutting and buttering some bread for Harry.
At that moment a small red-headed figure in a long nightdress appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.
"Ginny," Ron explained quietly, "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
Fred grinned at him, "Yeah, she'll be want your autograph, Harry." Molly frowned at him and he bent back over his plate without another word. It stayed quiet until everyone had finished eating, which took a surprisingly short amount of time. (Harry had slipped quite a bit of his food to Sirius, if he'd eaten everything on his plate, he'd probably have been sick.)
"Blimey, I'm tired." Fred yawned as he set down his fork. "I think I'll go to bed and-"
"You'll do no such thing." Molly snapped, "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 two," she said, glaring at Ron and George, "are going to help. You can go up to bed, dear." She added to Harry. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car-"
"I'd like to help." Harry said. "I've never seen a de-gnoming."
"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work. Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject." She stood and pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece.
George groaned, "Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden."
Harry glanced down at Sirius, curious. Sirius shook his head, just a little. He'd never heard of Lockhart, and he'd never had to de-gnome anything. Harry turned to look at the book Molly was looking over.
"Oh, he is marvelous," she said. "He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book..."
Sirius rolled his eyes. /Yes, it certainly sounds as though the book's all you're interested in./
Sure enough, Fred stage whispered, "Mum fancies him."
"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred." Molly's cheeks had turned 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."
Yawning and grumbling, the Weasley boys slouched outside, Harry and Sirius in tow. Once the boys had crossed the lawn, Harry took off Sirius's jacket whispering, "Sorry. Why don't you sleep some? I'll be fine."
Sirius licked his cheek, yawned, and stretched out on the grass. He watched the boys chuck gnomes over the hedges for a minute before letting his eyes fall closed.
"Shadow. Come on, boy, it's time to go in." Harry was shaking him.
Sirius looked up at him, accusing.
"Hey, I didn't decide. We're finished and Mr. Weasley's home. Come on, you can sleep just as well inside." With that Harry turned and started back towards the house.
The Animagus yawned and stretched before trotting after his godson.
Arthur had sat down and was pouring himself some tea and they came in. The other boys were already settling around him. Sirius was amazed. Arthur Weasley was going bald! Which meant he absolutely would've won that bet with James. He sighed to himself, yet another reason he missed his best friends.
"Nine raids. Nine!" Arthur was saying. "And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when my back was turned..."
Sirius curled up at Harry's feet and started to fall back to sleep. Unfortunately, it didn't last as he was jerked back to the waking world when Molly's voice yelled, "LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"
Harry smiled apologetically when Sirius looked up at him in betrayal. He huffed and lay down again, hoping for just a couple more minutes. Molly, however, had different plans as she argued with her husband. Sirius was half tempted to return to his human form so he could tell her to shut up and let him sleep, damn it!
Finally, Ron offered to show Harry his room and leave his parents to their fight.
Sirius followed them up far too many stairs, ignoring the boys' conversation, until they reached Ron's room. He dropped onto the rug, barely noticing the bright orange room or the weirdly familiar, yet out of place scent, and fell asleep almost immediately. His last waking thought was that if anyone woke him up within the next few hours, he'd bite their hand off.