(Nine O’Clock the Next Morning, Twelve Grimmauld Place)

/Too bad this journey couldn’t be as peaceful as last night,/ Harry thought that morning, grimacing as he landed in front of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He had forgotten just how much he hated Portkeys.

Fortunately, he did not have to dwell on it long. Seconds later, a delighted squeal split the air and Harry found himself tackled and nearly hugged to death by one Hermione Granger.

“ ‘Mi…one,” Harry wheezed out, trying to breathe and hug the girl at the same time.

“Herm,” Ronald Weasley’s very amused voice spoke up as he pried the girl off their mutual best friend. “He kind of needs to *live* for the next couple of years, you know.”

Hermione pouted prettily at the red-haired boy. “I *know* that, Ronald.”

Harry laughed at the other teenaged boy’s blush. Oh, one of these days…!

Ron turned the grin to Harry---if somewhat sheepishly---an embarrassed blush still very prominent on his cheeks. “It’s great to see you, mate,” the other soon-to-be-sixth-year remarked warmly, voice low.

The Boy-Who-Lived returned the grin brightly. “Thanks, mate. It’s great to be here.”

Molly Weasley chose that point in time to come down the front steps of Grimmauld Place. Catching sight of the young Gryffindor, she hurried down the steps and embraced him, “Oh, Harry, dear! Thank goodness you’re here!” Stepping back, she placed her hands on his shoulders and smiled, one tear squeezing out of her eye.

Harry, blushing slightly, reached up and dashed the tear away. “Please don’t cry, Mrs. Weasley. Everything is really all right.”

The stout woman nodded. “I know, dear. Severus has been in and out over the past week---”

“Severus?” Harry interrupted softly. “You mean Professor Snape?” Then he blushed, realizing what he had done. “Sorry.”

She gave him a lopsided smile, if slightly worried. “Quite all right, dear.”

Harry instantly noted the concern on her part. “Mrs. Weasley? Is everything all right?”

Her smile became a bit more preoccupied. “As well as it can be, but I’m really not the one to ask.”

The teen nodded, accepting her answer---for the moment. At the same time, he tried to ignore the startled looks his two best friends had fixed him with. He would explain things to them later---*after* Mrs. Weasley shooed them off and went about her work.

The witch continued. “As I was saying, Severus has been in and out the past week or so. We’ve had several meetings of the Order and he has supplied us with information on You-Know-Who’s actions, or as much as he can. He sent a letter yesterday evening, explaining that you were arriving by Portkey today on the Headmaster’s orders.”

Harry sighed in something oddly resembling relief as something in him eased. He knew, of course, that Professor Snape was a spy, but for the first time he took note of how tense he felt at the thought of the man continually risking his life for the Order and Wizarding World at large. That he was, for the moment, safe, took quite a bit of weight off the young Gryffindor’s shoulders.

“And what was that sigh for, Mr. Potter?” a soft voice spoke up from behind him.

Harry jumped and let out a yelp before he could stop himself, whirling around to face a laughing…

“Ginny!” he exclaimed with a groan of mock-vexation.

The youngest Weasley continued laughing helplessly. “I’m sorry!” she gasped between giggles, “I’m sorry! But you should *see* your face!”

“She’s right, mate,” came Ron’s laughter-choked response as Harry turned his scowl to the two other sixteen-year-olds. Even Hermione was laughing.

Harry rolled his eyes at them, but stopped scowling, even allowing a small grin to break through as he turned back to the soon-to-be-fifth-year girl and gave her a firm hug. “It’s good to see you, too, Gin,” he murmured.

Ginny laughed and returned the hug.

“Ginny, sweetheart,” Molly spoke up, “did you get the groceries I told you to?”

The two separated and Ginny answered her mother, “Yes, Mum. The owner sent them over.”

The woman sighed. “There’s enough to keep a body busy here any day. Very well, then, I’ll see about putting them away now that that dratted Kreacher is gone. Why don’t you four go wander some? It’ll be a couple of hours before lunch. Harry, dear,” she turned to the raven-haired boy, “Remus would like to see you when he returns from Hogwarts, and both the Headmaster and Severus wanted to know when you arrived, so I’ll let them know. Go on, now.” And she shooed them off, heading back inside.

It was a pleasant summer day and none of the four had any qualms about walking around the grounds. There was silence a while, comfortable, just the Gryffindor quartet enjoying the weather and each other’s company.

Then Harry broke it, idly touching a vine-covered fig tree in one of the many gardens, “I would have loved to see this place when the gardens were kempt,” he muttered.

His three friends shot him surprised looks.

“What?” he frowned lightly at them.

Hermione was the one who spoke up, “Really, Harry? I would have thought Dark Magic would have been running rampant here, then.”

Harry shrugged a bit. “Maybe. But I can’t sense it anymore, really. It feels kind of empty…you know what I mean?”

The three with him shook their heads and Ginny gave him an inquiring look. “You can sense magic?” she asked, curious and more than a little interested. Hermione gave him a matching look.

Harry nodded, biting his lip slightly. Even Ron seemed intrigued. “Is that a bad thing?” the Boy-Who-Lived wanted to know.

His three friends exchanged significant glances, before Ron turned back to him. “No, mate, it’s just…not very common.”

Harry heaved an exasperated sigh. “Lovely,” he muttered sarcastically. “Can *nothing* be common about me?”

Their conversation was taking on a decidedly darker tone. His three friends knew of the Prophecy of course:

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…” (1)

And they knew why Harry had to spend every summer at the Dursleys---or at least until Voldemort was defeated. He had explained all about both the blood protection and the Prophecy whilst returning to Kings Cross station on the Hogwarts Express at the end of fifth year. They also knew he was less than pleased with the situation.

So, deciding to lighten the mood a little, Ginny hopped towards him playfully and gently tapped his chest with her fist, laughing a bit, “But you wouldn’t be Harry, then, now would you?”

It worked. Harry grinned and rolled his eyes good-naturedly once again, “Oh, no, I’d just be a normal wizard with some *un*-normal characteristics.” But there was laughter, and soon, the four friends had abandoned any and all sense of maturity, chasing each other through the overgrown gardens of Black Manor. Still laughing.

When the time for lunch rolled around, four breathless, bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked teenagers trooped up the back steps and into the house.