“Harry.  Harry!  Harry!”

“Ron!  Stop bellowing!”

“Gin, have you seen Harry?  He’s not upstairs.”

“Yes, he’s outside in the yard.  And he’s asleep, so don’t you dare go disturb him!  Slytherin knows he needs the rest.”

Ron looked down the stairs at his sister, who had come to remind him of a cross between their mother and Niamh, the blue-eyed wrath of a Slytherin half the school was afraid of.  God knew, the world need the combination of the Weasley temper and stubbornness and the O’Feir…oh, who knew what to call what Niamh was?

“Okay, okay.  I was just wondering where he was.”

Ginny sighed and said, “Well, now you know.”  She then peered up the stairs, hearing movement above them.  “And now you’ve woken up Percy!”

Percy came down to the first landing and peered down at them, his hair flying all over his face, his dressing robe askew, and his glasses dangling in one hand.

“Ron.”

“Percy,” said Ron back in the same stern tone.

“What were you doing?”

“Yelling for Harry.”

“JUST GO LOOKING FOR HIM NEXT TIME!”

With that Percy stormed back up the stairs and Ron stared after him.

“What crawled up his back?”

Ginny scowled at her brother and snapped, “You know he’s still twitchy about Crouch.  And I don’t blame him!”

“Okay.  No more yelling.”

< Please, > said a voice in both of their heads.

There was a soft thump as a rather ruffled looking raven flew in through the kitchen window and landed on the table.  Jardin looked at the two of them and said, < You two are rather loud when you’re arguing.  Woke me up from a good sound sleep.  I’m surprised you didn’t wake Harry.  Then again, he’s always slept like the dead. >

“Oh, don’t refer to the dead,” said Ginny.  “We had enough of that last year.”

< And I daresay we will this year too. >

“Do you have to be so negative?” asked Ron, coming down the rest of the stairs and leaning against the doorframe that lead into the kitchen.

< No.  But I enjoy it. >

“Merlin, you sound like Snape.”

“Hey!” said Ginny, hitting her brother lightly in the stomach.  “Professor Snape is not that bad.”

“Not to you lot.  You’re a Slyth, Gin.  I’m a ‘lowly Gryffindor with no brains’.”

“Well I can agree with the lowly…”

“Why you…  c’mere…”

“No, Ron, not…oh…ooo! – Ron…no…Ron, c’mon! – ah!”

Ginny was helpless.  Only her brother’s knew she was ticklish and they were the only one’s who had enough clout to do such a thing.

But only away from Hogwarts when she couldn’t do magic.  If they’d tried it there, she’d had turned their head into an donkey’s.

“Oh!  Ron…ah…let me…ooo…ooo….GO!”

“How anyone sleeps around here, I shall never know.”

Ron and Ginny looked up and saw Harry standing in the doorway that led from the yard outside into the kitchen.  He was leaning casually against the doorframe, his green eyes shining with amusement and a smile twitching at his lips.

“Hey, Harry,” said Ginny.  “Did we wake you?”

“The two of you could wake a herd of elephants.  But no…I woke up on my own.”

Ginny and Ron recognized that tone.  They’d heard it constantly over the last few weeks Harry had been staying with them.

Almost every night, the dark-haired teen had been awoken by horrible dreams.  They all knew it and he knew they knew it, but they never said anything.

So the two of them knew that their friend was hiding it from them.

Ron released Ginny, who straightened and gave her brother a shove backwards.  He stumbled and barely caught himself on the doorframe; causing Harry to say, “Tread carefully near one of the Slytherin Four, Ron.”

The ginger-haired boy pulled himself back up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking from his sister to his friend.

“You’re telling me.  Did you have another dream?”

Harry’s expression instantly darkened and Ron wished he hadn’t said anything.  The look reminded him of when he’d blown up at Harry when he’d told all of them who his father really was.

“That’s none of your business,” snapped the Potion Master’s son, and with a sharp glare to rival one of his father’s, disappeared outside again.  Ginny looked after him then punched her brother in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You idiot!” hissed the girl.  “Why did you say anything?  You know damn well he doesn’t want to talk about that!”

“Virginia Weasley!”

Ginny turned and immediately the fight went out of her stance.  She ducked her head and mumbled, “Sorry, Mum.”

“Just don’t use that language in my house, young lady,” said Mrs. Weasley as she came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.  “Good morning, Jardin,” she said to the raven as she saw the bleary-eyed bird standing on the table.

< Good morning to you as well, Molly. >

“How come you call people by their first names?” asked Ginny to the bird.

“Because he’s four hundred and four years old,” said Mrs. Weasley, “and can do such things.  Now go amuse yourselves.”  She peered out the window and added, “What on earth is Harry doing now?”

Ron and Ginny bounded to the door and peered out into the yard.  Harry was stalking towards a bush, arms away from his body, fingers spread wide.  He paused for a moment then he lunged into the bush.  There seemed to be a small to-do but then Harry scrambled backwards, a gnome held upside down in one hand.  He grinned in success then stood and swung the creature about, letting it fly over the garden wall.

“A good throw,” remarked Mrs. Weasley, then jabbed her wand at her children.  “Out!  Or no breakfast!”

“Yes, Mum,” chorused two voices and they opened the door, heading out into the yard.

Harry turned his head towards them, eyes glinting darkly for a moment then he smiled and said, “Good throw, eh?  Hed said there was a gnome in here somewhere.”

Ginny smiled at her friend and fellow Housemate and said, “Great throw, Harry.”

“Yeah,” echoed Ron.

Harry looked at his two friends for a moment then looked up at the almost cloudless sky.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you guys.  I just…lost my temper.”

“S’alright, Harry,” said Ginny.  “You’ve lost your temper before.”

“Too right,” said Ron, who been under the brunt of Harry’s temper before.

“Still, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Why don’t we just let it go and do something?” asked Ginny.

“Quidditch?” suggested Ron.

Harry’s eyes lit up and he smirked.

“We can wake up Fred and George.”

“That gives us five.”

“Bill’s still here,” said Ginny.

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Harry.  “Let’s go give ‘em some wake-up calls.  Niamh style.”

Ginny giggled and Ron asked, “What’s ‘Niamh style’?” as they headed back towards the Burrow.

“Oh,” said Harry, a glint in his emerald eyes, “its rather simple.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

“Well, what is it?” asked Ron.

“You’ll see,” replied Harry cryptically then vanished into the kitchen and up the stairs.  Ginny grinned at her brother then ran after him.  Ron blinked for a moment then charged after them.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Now what?”

“Who wants to do the honors?”

“I still don’t know what we’re doing!”

“Hush, Ron!  You’ll wake them!”

“Why don’t we each take one?  Gin, you can get Fred, and I’ll take George, and we can show Ron what to do so he can wake up Bill.”

“’Kay.”

“One – two – three!”

Ginny and Harry both leapt upon the end of the twins beds at the same time, each yelling out the respective twins name.

“FRED!”

“GEORGE!”

“AHHHH!”

“AHHHH!”

Fred and George leapt out of their beds; both were clad in nothing but boxers and ran towards the center of the room.  They ploughed into each other in their confusion and both fell to the floor.

Harry and Ginny sat on the beds, laughing hysterically, while Ron stood in the doorway grinning widely.

The twins looked up, saw them, and glared.  They then looked at each other.

“Well, Fred, it seems we’ve been had.”

“Yes, it does, George.  Should we plan revenge?”

“I think we should.  What shall we do?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“Until you do,” said Ginny with a wry smile, “come play Quidditch with us.  Three on three.”

“Don’t tell me your getting Percy,” gasped Fred.

“No.  Bill,” said Harry.  “Ron’s got the job of waking him up.  Get on Ron.  We’ll wait right here.”

Ron paled.

“He’s gonna hex my ears to my ankles!”

“That’ll be interesting,” said George.

“George!”

“What?”

Ron sighed and headed upstairs.  As he did, Ginny looked at Harry and asked, “Should we go after him?  Just incase?”

“What’re we going to do?  Throw ourselves in front of the hex?”

“Well…”

“Right.”

A few minutes later…

“RON!”

“THEY MADE ME DO IT!”

Ron came dashing down the stairs and leapt into the room, hiding behind Harry.  Bill appeared in the doorway a moment later, wand out, ginger hair disheveled and hanging loose about his face.  He narrowed his eyes at those inside and growled, “What.  Do.  You.  Want?”

“Quidditch,” said Fred.

“Three on three,” said George.

“Such fun it’ll be.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Bill looked at the five of them for a moment then shook his head, lowering his wand.  He gave a short laugh and said, “You lot woke me up for that?”

The five nodded.

“Alright.  Give me a minute and I’ll be right down.”

“Yay!” said Ginny, dashing out of the room past her eldest brother and upstairs to her room.  Bill sent an amused glance at those left in the room then began to climb the stairs.

Harry looked at the twins and said, “We’ll just leave you two to get dressed.  C’mon, Ron.”

He rose and left and Ron followed.  They ran up the stairs to Ron’s room to grab their brooms.  Harry dug his Firebolt out of his trunk while Ron took an old, battered Cleansweep from the corner.

“Ready?”

“Yep,” said Harry, closing his trunk.

As they headed back down, Percy poked his head out the door and said in dismay, “Quidditch?  Now?”

“Some people actually have free time, Percy!” yelled Ron over his shoulder.

Downstairs, Ginny was wolfing down breakfast.  On the windowsill, Jardin pecked at a piece of toast.  Mrs. Weasley, upon seeing the two boys, pointed her wand at the table and said, “Sit.  Breakfast first, then Quidditch.”

“Aw, Mum…” began Ron.

“Sit.  As long as you’re in my house, Ronald William Weasley, you will eat breakfast before you play Quidditch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That goes for you too, Harry.”

“Never had a doubt of it, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry with a wry smile as he sat down.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him then levitated two plates over to the table.

“There.  Eat.  And where are…”

Fred and George suddenly zipped into the kitchen and each stole a piece of toast from a plate on the counter.

“Can’t stay, Mum.”

“Things to do.”

“Places to see.”

“And all that rot.”

With that they zipped out the kitchen door into the yard, leaving Mrs. Weasley to bellow out the window after them, startling several sparrows in a tree into flight.

“FREDERICK JESAP WEASLEY AND GEORGE SAMUEL WEASLEY!!  GET BACK IN THIS KITCHEN!!”

“I don’t think they heard you, Mum,” said Bill as he came down the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and sighed heavily.  She said, “I don’t know why I bother.  Here.”  She thrust a plate at him.  “Eat.  Then go.  And tell off those two rascals for me.”

“Of course.”

“DONE!” said Ginny and dashed out the door, an old Cleansweep like Ron’s in her hands.

Mrs. Weasley peered after her then looked at the three still sitting at the table.  She sighed again then looked at Harry and said, “Harry, dear, isn’t your birthday in a few days?”

Harry blinked and counted the days.  His birthday had come before he’d known it and that meant…

That meant the day Tyls had died was coming around two.  That had been four days before his birthday.

“What day is it today?” he asked suddenly.

“The twenty-seven…Harry, dear, what’s wrong?”

Harry went pale.  Today…today was the day he, his father, and Niamh had gone to Diagon Alley.  That fateful day when he and Niamh had gone out into London and Tyls had stolen Niamh’s wallet, the event that had started that whole chain of events.

Today was the anniversary of Tyls’ death.

And today was the anniversary of the day Harry had killed Argil.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and he flinched away.

Mrs. Weasley frowned and squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Harry, dear, is something wrong?  You went as pale as death.”

“No,” said Harry softly, then more firmly.  “No.  Nothing’s wrong, Mrs. Weasley.”

He added softly, “Nothing’s wrong at all.”