"Hiya, Harry!" the twins greeted
in cheerful unison, then glanced around the room. "Where are the muggles at?"
"They went out for dinner," Harry explained. Mr Weasley made a quietly disappointed sound. The twins, too, looked disappointed, but Harry suspected for an entirely different reason.
"Shame, shame, I would've liked to meet them. Then again," Mr Weasley added, looking around at the destroyed living room, "perhaps it's, ah, for the best they weren't here."
Harry imagined what his uncle might have done in the face of such chaos and blatant magic, and was almost sad Snape had told them to leave. "So this is a muggle house, is it? Goodness, look at all those ecklectric things! How marvellous!" Mr Weasley seemed to realise he wasn't alone, and smiled abashedly at Harry. "Ready to go, Harry? Where's your trunk?"
"It's in the hall," he said, turning to retrieve his things. When he returned, there was a fire in the grate.
"You boys go first, now. I'll stay back and, ah, clear up the mess," Mr Weasley said with a glance at the gaping hole in the wall. He pulled out a small pouch of floo powder. "Here you are, boys."
Harry let Ron and the twins go first, then stepped into the fire and spoke his destination, squeezing his eyes shut against the whirl of ash that followed. He stumbled out into the kitchen at the Burrow, stomach churning uncomfortably. Before he could properly catch his breath, he was wrapped up in a tight hug. "Harry, dear!" Mrs Weasley fussed. "Welcome back. You're looking a little peaky, have you eaten yet?"
Harry wasn't sure how she could say he was 'peaky' when his skin was the darkest it had been in years, but he didn't question it. "Good to see you too, Mrs Weasley. I've already had lunch, thanks."
"Let him put his things away before you start feeding him, Mum," came a deep, amused voice. Harry glanced over at the kitchen table, where Ron and George were sat with two older redheads Harry had only ever seen pictures of. The two eldest Weasley brothers, Bill and Charlie. "How's it going, Harry?" the one who had just spoken greeted, holding out a burn-scarred hand for Harry to shake. Charlie, the dragon tamer, was shorter than Harry expected, with incredibly muscular arms covered in tattoos and a face that was more freckles than lightly tanned skin.
The eldest brother, Bill, rounded the table to shake Harry's hand properly. Harry's throat went a little dry. Bill Weasley was tall and broad-shouldered, with long hair tied back in a ponytail and a fang earring dangling from one ear. He looked so cool. Certainly not what Harry expected from someone who worked for Gringotts. He grinned, blue eyes sparkling. "Nice to finally meet you, Harry. We've heard so much about you, after all." He winked. Harry's stomach filled with butterflies.
"Yeah, uh, hi," he croaked, then coughed. "Nice to meet you, too. I didn't realise you'd both be home."
"It's the Quidditch Cup Final!" Charlie pointed out. "No way we were gonna miss it."
Mr Weasley apparated into the kitchen with a pop, brushing plaster dust off his robes. "All sorted," he assured Harry. "Not a spot out of place."
As if summoned by all the noise, Hermione and Ginny wandered into the kitchen, stopping when they saw the new arrival. "Harry!" Hermione hugged him tightly, looking him over. "Wow! You look great!" Then she blushed. "You know what I mean. You look like you've been eating."
Harry was well aware of how he usually looked in the summers, and chuckled. "Thanks, Hermione."
"Ron, why don't you help Harry take his things up to your room," Mrs Weasley suggested. Fred reached out to grab Harry's trunk.
"We'll get it, Mum!" As he turned, something brightly wrapped fell out of his pocket; it looked like a sweet. He went wide-eyed and scrambled for it, but Mrs Weasley summoned it quickly. "What's this?" she asked with eyebrows raised pointedly, a knowing look on her face.
"Oh, it's nothing," Fred said quickly.
"Just a sweet," George backed him up quickly, plucking it from his mother's fingers. "Come on, Harry, let's go." He grabbed Harry and practically dragged him from the kitchen, Hedwig's cage in hand. When they were halfway up the stairs, Harry gave them a curious look.
"What was that all about?"
The twins shook their heads, staying silent until they were in Ron's room with the door shut. Only then did George hold up the sweet with a smirk. "Shame your muggle cousin wasn't home, Harry. I'm sure he would've loved this," he said conspiratorially.
"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred explained. "We invented them. Makes your tongue keep growing; we tested one on Ron the other day, his got about four foot long before Mum came in and shrank it."
Harry snorted, imagining Dudley with an enormous tongue flopping out of his mouth. Oh, he would've loved to see that. "That's genius," he enthused, and both twins beamed.
"We've been inventing loads of stuff over the summer," George told him. "We wanted to sell them at Hogwarts, but Mum found the order forms. She's been fuming ever since." Fred grimaced, then brightened. "Anyway, how've you been, young Harrikins? Everything alright with the muggles?" He looked Harry over in concern. Harry wished he could tell the boys the truth; maybe he'd ask Sirius about it. They could keep secrets with the best of them, and they'd already proven they could be trusted.
"I had a pretty good summer, actually. Been talking to some of my new friends," he added with a pointed glance. The twins caught on quickly.
•
🚀New updates on my Ko-fi!🚀
Support me and read the novel, now available in PDF, with the advanced chapters.
•
https://ko-fi.com/cmrowling