Severus hated leaving Harry behind for the day. Even if he was not leaving his son alone, but with the Weasleys, he still felt terrible about it, especially after yesterday debacle and Harry's rather obvious fears of being abandoned. He could not blame the child, not ever, for feeling like that, given what he had gone through for six years after his mother and James died. But Severus had been truthful about needing to work, either here or elsewhere, and at least here -- or at the Burrow -- Harry had more to do, and more children to play with than he would at Spinner's End.

Since he had taken breakfast with Harry in his rooms, and then waited for the Weasley clan to make their entrance, Severus was rushed in getting to his classroom to make sure all was readied for his first meeting with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Fifth Years. He had just finished putting out tiny jars of dragon's blood for today's lesson when the students filed in. They were silent as they took their seats and set up their cauldrons.

Good. Seemed his reputation -- as a professor not to be trifled with -- was growing quickly. From the front of the classroom, he took roll then snapped out a few directions and watched the OWL preparatory class get started. In the previous couple days, he had found that Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff classes were far easier to manage than the others, if for no other reason than the Ravens just wanted to do their best on every assignment, and the Puffs would never dream of sabotaging any of their classmates' projects.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin combined classes . . . Well. That was a whole 'nother cauldron of mertlap. He would be more than grateful if he could manage to get those classes through the year without any of the students being blown up with their cauldrons. He had to watch them like a hawk.

This class was advanced enough -- and well-trained enough -- that he need only sweep through the room infrequently and not be beside the little blighters every second. He could even, occasionally, think about other things, like the last steps of the potion he was preparing for that bastard Filch -- and how he would approach Albus if the horrid man protested taking it -- or his son and how his day might be going with a passel of Weasleys surrounding him.

He supposed he would find out at lunch time.

---

Mrs. Weasley led the children outside, and started down the slope of the hillside just beyond the steps leading to the Front Entrance. Harry let Treacle out of his arms as soon as they reached the steps, and she bounded down the hill, though she stayed fairly close to Harry. He watched her play, rolling in the grass and pouncing on stray leaves, while Ron kept chatting to him the whole time, about Quidditch mostly. Harry didn't really know enough about the sport except what he had heard others say, or what Father had read to him, for him to make any comments back. But that was okay. He was fine being quiet. He was used to that, really.

What he was not used to -- and probably never would be -- was people sneaking up behind him, grabbing him bodily, and throwing him into the air.

When that happened, when they were half way down the hill, Harry's breath seized in his chest, and he curled his body into a tiny ball, limbs in tight, arms protectively over his head as he went up, even if only an inch or two, and then came down. Expecting to hit the ground hard, like he would have if Dudders had been the one who grabbed him, Harry was startled to be caught again in strong pale arms, and to hear boyish laughter in his ears. With a gasp, when he was let go, Harry scrabbled away, all knees and elbows and sharp movements, until he was hiding behind a small outcropping of rock.

"Oi, Harry! Wassamatter?"

"George, you great prat!" Ron yelled. "You're not meant to grab him!"

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley called, turning around in time to see Treacle fling herself in front of Harry to defend against anyone who meant him harm. "What's going on here?"

Ron pointed at the crouching, half hidden boy. "Mum, George grabbed Harry and frightened him."

"I didn't!"

With a small sigh, Mrs. Weasley frowned at the twin, then approached the snarling kneazle and the hidden boy and knelt in front of him, but did not try and touch either one. "Harry, love, it's all right. Georgie didn't mean to frighten you."

Blood pounded in his ears, and Harry stared at her, not really hearing her words, but rather the tone of her voice, which was oddly soothing. His breath came in stuttering gasps, and his palms were sweaty. He held his arms tight around his middle to keep them from shaking. He wasn't scared; of course not.

But he wanted his father suddenly. He couldn't say so, though. Father was busy. He was with his students, and Harry was in the way, and so had to go with Mrs. Weasley. He couldn't have Nelli, either, ‘cause he was too much trouble.

Everyone was staring at him. Even the girl, Ginny. He ducked his head, wanting to hide forever. "M'sorry," he whispered. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, Harry, dear heart, there's nothing to be sorry for." Her face was kind, and open. She held out her hand for him to take if he wanted. "Come on, now. Let's get the rest of the way down the hill. I've brought some games for you and the others to play."

Harry bit his lip and peered at the other children, but didn't move to take her hand.

George ran a hand through his shock of red hair and scuffed a toe of his trainer in the grass. "Hey, Harry, sorry for sneaking up on ye like that. I didn't realize you didn't like it. Ronnikins likes being tossed ‘round like that."

"Don't call me that!" Ron growled, fists clenched by his sides. Then he turned back to Harry. "They're just stupid, you know?" he said quietly.

"No, not stupid," Harry said, and reached for Treacle, who jumped into his arms and butted his chin with her head. Having her in his arms soothed him more than any words. He took a deep, much slower breath. "I jus' wasn't ‘specting it."

"Oh, sweetie, no one expects to be manhandled like that," Mrs. Weasley said, and frowned at George again. "But my twins are masters of doing the unexpected."

Fred nodded. "It's what we're--"

"-best at," finished George. "But I really am sorry."

"S'okay," Harry said. He shrugged and stood up, feeling embarrassed now. He was such a dunce; he should have known Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let him get hurt. "Can we go now?"

"Of course, Harry dear." Mrs. Weasley stood as well, but kept a closer eye on them as they continued down the hill to a fairly open, flat area near Hagrid's hut, but far enough away from the Forbidden Forest that it provided little temptation. Harry knew he wasn't allowed in there anyway. That was why it was Forbidden.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley said. She pulled a small bag out of one of her pockets and put it on the ground before tapping it with her wand. The bag grew and grew and grew, and in seconds was almost as big as Harry.

He gaped at it, and Ron grinned. "You never seen anything ‘nlarged before?" Harry shook his head, and Ron continued, "Mum's a wiz at it. She can pack more into a bag than Father Christmas."

Harry gave him an uncertain smile; he didn't know from Father Christmas, but he suspected Ron meant Santa Claus, who always brought Dudders dozens of toys, but nothing for Harry because freaks and bad boys didn't get anything for Christmas.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley was taking an assortment of things out of the huge bag and laying them out in a circle around herself. "Ginny dear, will you catch that, please?" she asked, pointing at something with springs and wheels and some kind of whistling part that trundled away from her.

"Yes, Mum," Ginny said quietly - she was near as quiet as Harry, and he was glad for it - and chased after the thing, scooped it up and put it back in its place. "Stay there," she scolded, shaking her finger at it, and Harry giggled, covering his mouth with his hand.

Ginny looked over at him and smiled shyly. "It's a Funderbus. Always wandering off, too."

Harry didn't ask what a Funderbus was, figuring he would be told or not, but it wasn't his right to ask questions.

"Mum," Fred said in a sing-songy voice that was not quite a whine, "can't we-"

"-just play now? You brought our-"

"-brooms and all."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, but looked a little weary, like she heard this all the time. "Lessons first, boys, you know that. Then play time."

"Awww, Mum-" George started, but Mrs. Weasley held up a hand and he trailed off before complaining. Mrs. Weasley didn't even yell at him for arguing. Harry was amazed.

"Now, Harry dear, you're new to this, so why don't you stand by me," said Mrs. Weasley, and gestured to a spot beside her. "The others will be spread out inside the circle." As she said it, the twins, Ron and Ginny each took a place within the circle of objects, some of which were making low humming noises, and some of which had moving parts and lots of arms that seemed to be waving at him.

Harry nodded and let Treacle down again, but she followed him as he stepped into the circle to stand by Mrs. Weasley.

"Excellent, dear." She waited, eyebrows lifted disapprovingly, while the twins swapped places with each other several times before settling down, and then she smiled down at Harry. "Now, I'm going to ask a question or pose a problem, and each of you will try and find the answer. You can use any of the objects in the circle to help you. Each of you will figure your own answer, and - except for Fred and George, dears, I know - it's unlikely any two people's answers will be the same. All right, Harry?"

Harry had absolutely no idea what she meant except that he was going to have to answer questions. It sounded almost like school. Well, he could probably do that, except he knew he didn't know near enough about anything to answer questions. Like Uncle Vernon said, he was lazy and stupid. But he nodded just the same.

"All right then," Mrs. Weasley said. "Please tell me four kinds of plants that are used in potions. If you're seven or older, I want you to describe the plants, too. If you're nine or older," she added, looking at the twins, "in addition to describing them, tell me where they can be found, and how to harvest them for peak performance." She grinned. "Go!"

The Weasley children all scrambled to the devices that surrounded them, and there was a sudden cacophony of sound: whistles, churning gears and the susurrus of metal and wood and cloth rubbing together. Lights appeared and glowing pictures of plants and trees and all sorts of things, over the objects and surrounding the children.

Harry stared, with no idea what to do. He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down hard before stumbling almost blindly toward the edge of the circle. A squishy object sat there that looked like a plush animal with an elephant's head, except it had horns like a rhino, and a tiger's legs and paws. And several flaps on its belly that appeared to be liftable. Weird.

Crouching in front of the thing, Harry covertly checked to see what the others were doing. The twins each held a many-armed . . . thing made of cloth, and were poking each other with the arms. Ginny was sitting with her object, which looked almost like a scooter with many extra wheels, in her lap, and tapping the wheels with her index finger as if it were a wand. Ron was hunched over the Funderbus, poking it and seemingly talking to it, too.

Taking a slow breath, Harry lifted one of the flaps on the elephant thingy's belly. A tiny picture of a tree appeared on the fuzzy surface, almost like a telly screen, but then it grew and grew until Harry was surrounded by color and the smell of damp moss. A cool breeze touched his cheek like a soft breath. He spun around, mouth hanging open, staring at the scene. He was in the middle of a dense wood, with tall trees whose topmost branched nearly blocked out the sky. The ground underfoot was spongy, covered with dead pine needles and leaves, and a long-since fallen tree lay almost horizontal nearby.

Where was Hogwarts?

A sudden voice startled him and made him jump. "What do you want to know?" it said.

Harry jerked around till he saw who had spoken, and his gaze came to rest on a larger version of the elephant-tiger thing, which was sitting on its haunches and gazing back at him. The creature cocked its head to the side, and - if Harry interpreted the show of teeth correctly - smiled.

"Um . . ." Harry swallowed hard and hugged his arms around his middle. Was this thing going to tell him the answer to Mrs. Weasley's question? Or was it going to try and eat him? "Um, I'm meant to find plants for potions, sir."

"Ahhh," the creature said, though his mouth only moved a little, and not like he was really forming words. "That's an easy one. How many?"

"Er . . . four?"

"Very well," the elephant-tiger said. It stood up and stalked closer to Harry. Harry took a step back. The creature made that smile thing again, its trunk lifting and swaying slightly as it spoke. "Be not afraid, child. I am here to help, as I have helped many children before you."

Harry swallowed again and nodded, though he didn't really trust it to not trample him or anything. It was bigger than Dudders! "Okay."

"Come, look," the elephant-tiger said, and moved its lithe body closer to a nearby shrub. The shrub was a bit taller than Harry, with tiny white flowers and very long leaves. Harry could just make out tiny purplish-black berries tucked under the leaves. "This is the Devils' Walkingstick. See the gnarled trunk, and how it doesn't branch at all?"

Harry leaned closer and said, "Yes, sir," very softly.

"That's why it's called the Walkingstick, or sometimes, Hercules' Club. You may touch it, child, go on, but mind your fingers on the trunk, as it's covered in spines. When the leaves are young, you can cook and eat them like spinach. Do you like spinach, child?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Do you know what potions you might use this plant in?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir," he said and knew he was a failure. Father would know. Father knew everything about potions.

"That's quite all right, child," the elephant-tiger said, and didn't yell at Harry for being stupid, so he relaxed some. The creature leaned into the plant to nibble on some of the leaves. Still chewing, he said to Harry, "The bark, shredded, has been used in fever reducers, and the berries when steeped, can be used in pain relief potions. You don't want to eat them raw, however. They'll upset your tummy."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, and put all the information to memory, best he could.

The creature chuckled softly. "I'm no ‘sir'," it said. "You may call me Apples."

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. "Apples?"

The elephant-tiger-rhinoceros thing sighed. "Apples, yes. Alas for me, Molly Weasley chose to name me when she was only four years old, and her children refuse to call me different."

"I . . . I could call you different," Harry offered shyly. "If you want."

With a gentle smile, Apples shook its head. "It's all right, child. I've gotten used to it."

"I'm Harry. You could call me that."

"I shall then, Harry." Apples inclined his head slightly, almost a bow, and Harry felt his face heat. "Do you need more information, or will that do?"

"That's all, ‘cept for another three plants," Harry murmured.

"Very well, let us find another, then."

"Yes, si . . . I mean, Apples."

"Thank you, Harry. Now along this tree, you can see a climber known as European Honeysuckle, otherwise known as Woodbine . . ."

---

The sun was higher in the sky, and the Weasley children were sitting in their places, chatting, and waiting for him when Harry finally turned around to face them, with the plush Apples in his lap. Treacle jumped into his lap a moment later, and he scritched her ears just how she liked it. In addition to showing him plants, Apples had told Harry he was actually a Baku, an ancient being from Japanese folklore which traditionally ate nightmares. Harry wished he could take the soft creature to his own bed, so his nightmares could be eaten.

"Hello, Harry. All done dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He looked at the other children. "Sorry. I din't mean to take so long."

Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly. "That's quite all right. The objects sometimes take a bit of getting used to, but you can always take as long as you need. Did you get along well with Apples?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He didn't tell her the Baku would have liked a different name, since he knew that would be rude. "He's nice."

Her smile deepened. "Indeed." She looked at Ginny. "Ginny, dear, why don't you tell us what plants you learned about."

"Yes, Mum." Ginny closed her eyes and her brow furrowed for a moment before she said, "Shrivelfigs are used in Shrinking Solution, fluxweed is used in Polyjuice Potion, lovage is used in Confuddlement draughts, and so is sneezewort."

"Excellent, Ginny. Thank you." Ginny turned bright red with her mother's praise, and Harry grinned at her, glad she had done well. "Harry? Would you like to go next?"

The bottom dropped out of Harry's stomach, and he chewed on his lower lip as he nodded. It wasn't like he had a choice. But now they would all know he was stupid and shouldn't be ‘lowed to go to school with them. "Yes, ma'am," he said, barely a whisper.

"Go ahead then, dear."

Harry stared at her, and couldn't think of a thing to say. His stomach turned over, and he was sure he was going to throw up his breakfast. His palms were all sweaty, too. Why couldn't he remember?

"Harry," Ron whispered beside him. "Just think about one plant, a'right? That way it's not so big a deal. Where did you go? Was it the woods? Did you see any trees?"

"Um, yeah, I mean, a shrub?"

"What did it look like?"

Harry described the Devils' Walkingstick to Ron, and by the time he got to what the berries and bark were used for, he had forgotten how nervous he was supposed to be. It helped that he had both Apples and Treacle in his lap, giving his hands something to touch and play with while he described his findings.

"Excellent, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed when he had finished going over his plants. "You did a marvelous job."

Harry felt his face redden, just like Ginny's had, and ducked his head. Surely Mrs. Weasley knew he wasn't meant to be praised? That he was stupid? Father didn't call him stupid, he knew, and said that Harry was very bright and was learning his writing and reading and maths really well, but, well, Father had to say that, didn't he? Because he was Father.

But Mrs. Weasley didn't laugh at him or take back her words, and none of the other Weasleys did either, so Harry didn't tell her not to say such things to him, and instead listened - though with his head still down - as Ron talked about the plants he had found, and then the twins came next, each one speaking every other line as Harry was starting to get used to. They provided even more information about their plants, including having a color display appear, of the Mediterranean island where the Rock Rose - used in a common sleeping draught - grew. It was very pretty. Even Mrs. Weasley said so.

Finally, they were done, and Mrs. Weasley let them get up and stretch their legs - encouraging the twins, particularly, to run about and work off some energy - for a few minutes before the next lesson. When she called them back, she posed another problem, this one about magical creatures, and added, "Try a different object this time. I want each of you to get used to using all of them, over time."

Harry knew she was talking to him, especially, as he had not let go of Apples yet, and had been hoping to talk to the Baku again in the next lesson. But he nodded like he was supposed to, and when she said, "Go!" he put Apples down reluctantly, and went to try out one of the other objects instead. To his surprise, the Funderbus was just as helpful as Apples, but different in its own way, and it actually made Harry laugh with the story it told about a tribe of rude and mischievous Cornish Pixies.

Once again, the children shared what they learned, and Harry was starting to feel not quite as stupid as he had before. After this lesson was over, Mrs. Weasley let them play gobstones if they wanted, or swivenhodge, a game where the players hit a ball - it had used to be an inflated pig's bladder, Fred told Harry, until that was deemed downright mean to pigs - back and forth over a hedge - in their case, a hedge conjured by Mrs. Weasley for the purpose - with brooms.

It was loads of fun.

Harry, Ginny and Fred were on one team, with George and Ron on the other. The game was played to a hundred points, but though Harry tried to keep close count, it seemed like no one else was, really, so he gave it up after a while and just enjoyed the swing of the broom and the thunk of the ball, the sight of it flying over the hedge, and trying to figure where it would come back to next. By the time Mrs. Weasley said they needed to break for lunch, they were all hot and sweaty and giggling like mad.

But lunchtime meant Harry could see his father again, so he picked up the play equipment lickety split, and bounced on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

"Come on, dears," Mrs. Weasley said when everything was back in her bag and she had shrunk it again to put in her pocket. "Let's back to the castle. I believe we are dining in Professor Snape's quarters today."

"Aww, but we-"

"-wanted to eat with Charlie, Mum, and-"

"-maybe take a poke at Percy!"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head fondly at the twins as they headed up the hill. "Another time, boys. Let's go."

Racing ahead so fast - with Treacle hard on his heels - Harry hardly heard her.