Coming of Age

With a contented sigh at the happy memories, Harry shifted on his bed in an effort to return the circulation to his feet. He really should go downstairs to grab some lunch, but it was just too much effort to be given a piece of cheese and slice of bread. It would do to wait until he left Little Whinging before he worried about things like eating and sleeping properly. He had survived the Dursleys before; he would be able to survive them again.

The distant hooting of an owl broke into Harry's thoughts. He glanced at Hedwig's cage to find her happily asleep, with her head tucked under one wing. Looking outside, he saw a large tawny owl flying right for his bedroom. It flew in gracefully through the open windows and landed directly on the footboard of his bed. Harry removed the attached scroll and the bird immediately flew away without as much as a blink.

Unrolling the parchment, Harry saw the familiar writing of Professor Dumbledore in dark green ink.

Harry,

I hope this finds you well and that your situation isn't too intolerable. Recent events have convinced me that it would be safe for you to leave your relatives for the remainder of the summer. I have arranged for you to travel to the Weasleys' this evening. Please be prepared to leave at six o'clock promptly. I have already informed your Aunt and Uncle, so you won't need to bother telling them.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Just as he finished reading the letter, a shriek from his aunt, followed by the deep bellowing voice of his uncle, filtered from the downstairs. Not a full minute later, his bedroom door burst open and its frame was filled with the imposing sight of his Uncle Vernon.

"How many times have I told you to keep those ruddy birds away from us?" His face was already purple indicating that he had built up a head of steam during his short climb upstairs. In his hands was a crumpled up piece ofrchment, whose delivery had obviously sparked this most recent tirade.

Trying to be calm and reasonable, Harry said, "I can't control them, Uncle Vernon. They just deliver the mail."

"Tell those...those...freaky friends of yours to use the post like normal people. I'm tired of all the unnaturalness that you bring around here." Vernon's face displayed the obvious conflict between telling Harry off and saying anything that would remotely acknowledge the existence of magic. He pointed a beefy finger at Harry and finished, "Get your things packed and leave as soon as your...friends get here." He turned to walk out, and then over his shoulder said, "We're going out and won't be back until after you've left." With that, he strode out the door and let it slam behind him.

At six o'clock, Harry was shocked to see Professor Dumbledore himself Apparate into the living room. "Good evening, Harry."

"Hello, Professor," Harry answered. He was quite nervous to see his headmaster after destroying his office almost two months ago.

"Normally, I wouldn't have been able to be the one to escort you to the Burrow, but my schedule just became free," he finished with a twinkle in his eyes. Something about the old wizard offered Harry a measure of assurance. "Shall we go then?"

"I'm all packed," said Harry as he stood up to place his finger on the crystal ball in Dumbledor hand. In his other hand, he held onto his trunk and owl cage firmly, having sent Hedwig to fly herself there.

"One, two, three..." Harry felt the familiar tug on his navel and they were pulled from Little Whinging in a blur.

Upon arriving at the Burrow, Harry's legs buckled underneath him and he tumbled into something on his left. Instead of breaking his fall, however, he fell on top of it. It wasn't until the thing started to push him off that he realized it was a person.

"Geroff, Harry!&rdqcame the sound of the youngest Weasley.

He looked at her properly now. Since their faces were only a couple of inches apart, it wasn't too hard to do. "Sorry, Gin," he muttered, making a renewed effort to regain his footing. Finally righting himself, he glanced at Dumbledore and was rewarded with a wink and, though he could barely discern it from the odd tilt to his long beard, a smile.

He moved to help Ginny up and had his hand brushed away impatiently. "I can do it myself, Harry." She got up but almost fell into him instead. Harry grabbed her waist to steady her and was rewarded with another wink from Dumbledore, who surveyed the scene from over her shoulder.

Blushing slightly at the awkward looks frois Professor, Harry busied himself with making sure Ginny was all right. After all, it was his ungraceful landing that had knocked her down in the first place. She seemed shorter than the last time he saw her, but he reasoned that it might be because he had grown so much taller since the end of June. Lack of proper nourishment hadn't kept his body from shooting up nearly six inches in that time.

"Are you all right?" he asked with genuine concern. "I'm not the best at using Portkeys."

"I'm fine, Harry," she said softly. She hadn't taken her eyes off Harry after they stood up and hadn't made any move to step away.

Satisfied that Ginny was all settled, Harry glanced around the room properly. It much the same as he remembered. There were some new pictures of the various family members scattered around the multicolored walls. One peculiar thing that he noticed was that none of the pictures had Percy in them.

"Where did all the pictures of Percy go?" he asked Ginny. She still hadn't moved an inch.

"Wha- Oh," she said, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. Her eyes clouded over and her lips pressed into a thin line. "Well, he's in the pictures, but it seems that even his photographic self doesn't want anything to do with the family."

"Yeah, well that git's lucky he hasn't come back," a new voice sounded. "He's in for a bruising if he shows up here expecting us be all chummy."

Ron descended the stairs and Harry realized with a start that his hands were still on Ginny's waist from when he had steadied her. He jumped back a little and let his arms drop to his sides.

"I believe that your brother is currently trying to find a sense of direction in his life. I wouldn't be too hard on him just yet." Professor Dumbledore was still in the corner of the room, eyes twinkling merrily in Harry and Ginny's direction.

"Sorry, Professor, I didn't see you there," said Ron moving away from the stairs. "But I still think he's a git."

He moved up to Harry and grabbed him into a manly hug. "Good to see you, mate!"

"I'm glad to finally be here," Harry said exasperatedly.

"Mum said dinner would be ready in a bit. Want to walk around outside until it's done?" Ron grabbed Harry's arm and steered him to the back garden. He seemed to be a little tense and nervous about something.

"Thanks for getting me here, Professor. Bye,ny," Harry called over his shoulder on the way out the door.

"What's going on, Ron?" Harry asked as they made their way up a small hill towards a tree.

"It's Hermione. She's driving me bonkers and I don't know what to do about it." Ron looked on the verge of a breakdown.

"Ease up, mate," Harry said, slowing them down as they reached the tree. "What about Hermione has got you all worked up?"

They sat down facing the Burrow. Ron grabbed a large blade of grass and began chewing on it nervously. "She's gone barmy, Harry. I swear she does it on purpose, too. I can't take much more of this." He hung his head dejectedly between his knees.

"She does what on purpose? You're going to have to tell me something I can use, or I can't help you."

Ron lifted his head and sent Harry a withering look. "We're still best mates, right?" Harry nodded. "If something were to happen between me and Hermione, that wouldn't change, right?"

Harry laugheo himself. So that was what this was all about. "Listen, Ron. You like Hermione, right?"

"Of course I do! She's one of my best friends."

Harry shook his head, "No, mate. That's not what I'm talking about and you know it. Do you like her?" Ron muttered something incoherent. "Speak up, I couldn't hear you."

He lifted his head again so Harry could hear him. "I said, 'Yes', okay? I like Hermione and I swear if something doesn't happen soon, I'm going straight to St. Mungo's to check myself in."

"Okay, so you like Hermione and she likes you. What's the problem?"

"I never said she likes me and that's the problem. I've tried everything I could to get her to say it, but she acts like she doesn't know what I'm talking about."

Harry considered his friend's dilemma for a moment and then said, "Ron, Hermione isn't going to be the one to say anything. You've got to be the one to do it."

Ron jerked his head up, "Are you nutt I'm not telling her about my...my...feelings!"

Harry chuckled out loud this time. "Look, Ron. Hermione's the smartest witch of her age, right?" Ron nodded sullenly. "She's bound to have figured out what you're trying to get her to say and she's obviously not going to do it. So that means you have to be the one to start things. Otherwise, you're just going to keep dancing around each other until one of you gets sick of it." It was at this moment that Harry realized he was giving advice on relationships. Mr. 'I've only had one date in my whole life' was giving out tips on how to hook up with girls. Talk about irony.

But Harry realized that it wasn't experience that made his advice worthwhile. He had lived a life almost devoid of any kind of love and was able to recognize it when offered. It was clear that Hermione and Ron had feelings for one another and they both dealt with those feelings as if they were an invading force. They denied their existence, pretended they were something else and forcefully lashed out at the very thing that caused the feelings to be there in the first place - each other. It didn'take an expert on romance to figure that out.

Ron cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously with the blade of grass stuck between his teeth. "Are you saying that she might stop being friends with me?"

"No, Ron, but she might find someone else to be with that makes her happy that way."

The colors on Ron's face changed from white to red and then back to white in the blink of an eye. He looked up at Harry frantically, pleading, "Please, Harry, I've got to do something!"

"You've got to tell her how you feel, or you are going to lose her," Harry replied unflinchingly.

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? I can't handle rejection." He looked pitiful, but Harry was convinced this was the best thing.

"Are you a Gryffindor or not?" It was a cliché, but Harry knew it would appeal to Ron's sense of House pride. "It's probably the only thing holding her back, mate. Just tell her and get it over with. I promise it will work itself out."

Harry clappis friend on the back and got up to make his way back to the Burrow. He figured Ron would need some time to think about their conversation. Besides, it was probably time for dinner and he was ready to start eating properly again.

*

Dinner was a raucous affair. Mrs. Weasley seemed to need an excuse to make a lot of food, and so that it wouldn't go to waste, had invited Bill and Charlie to eat with them. Fred and George were miffed at not being invited but came anyway. Their excuse was that they wanted Harry to feel welcome, and of course, they had their own way of making sure that happened.

Currently, Harry noted that five separate conversations were taking place at the same time around the Weasley table.

"Did you hear about the lady in Nottingham that enchanted a set of golf clubs?" said Mr. Weasley to no one in particular.

"Norbert's about full grown now," remarked Charlie who was filling in Ginny on all the happenings in his dragon camp.

Fred and George were trying to convince Bill that investing in their joke shop would be wise. "It's a sure thing, Bill. We've got enough capital to see us through the end of the year, but with a little help, we could open another shop in Hogsmeade and double our profits!"

Mrs. Weasley interrupted their sales pitch and said, "Boys, I'm sure Bill has better things to do with his money." Then under her breath, but loud enough for Harry and Bill to hear her, "Like get married and give me some grandkids."

"Mum, Fleur and I aren't ready to get married yet. And don't go putting ideas in her head, okay?"

"You and Fleur?" Harry asked. "How come I've never heard anything about that?"

Bill ruffled Harry's hair and said, "If is up to me, no one in this house would know. It's bad enough to hear about how I'm wasting my life away and how I'd be better off married to a nice witch with ten kids running around me." With a sigh, he got up with his plate to go to the kitchen.

"Oh, Bill?" said Mrs. Weasley. "Be a dear and fetch Ron from the garden?"

"I'm here, Mum," said Ron upon entering the back door. "I'll just go wash up." He headed for the stairs to climb up to the bathroom.

After Hahad satisfied his need for food with three helpings of everything on the table, much to Mrs. Weasley's delight, he decided that Ron had no plans on coming down to eat. He grabbed his plate and made to get up when he noticed that Ginny had put her napkin on her plate. "Can I take your plate, Gin?"

She seemed a bit surprised by his offer, but said, "Sure." She handed her plate over to him and walked to the stairs. After putting their plates into the sink, Harry went to find out what was up with Ron.

Arriving on the top landing, he literally bumped into Ginny, who was just about to knock on Ron's door. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Oh! Harry, you gave me such a fright," she said, clutching chest.

Motioning towards the door, he said, "I take it you are here to see what's up with Ron?"

She flashed Harry a confident smile. "Oh, I know what his problem is. I just came up to see if he needed help making up his mind."

"So you've got things under control then?"

She nodded and gave the door a solid rap with her knuckles. Ron's muffled voice was heard through the door, "Come in."

"I leave you to it then." Ginny flashed another beaming smile at him and walked into Ron's room.

Trusting Ginny to be capable of handling her brother, Harry walked out into the garden to enjoy the last of the waning sunshine. He ambled up the small hill on the edge of their property and took a seat by one of the large trees on its summit. From here, he was able to see most of the village below and the top of Stoatshead hill in the distance.

Harry leaned back into the hard trunk and let his mind wander over Ron's predicament. It was rather pathetic how he had been unable to hide his feelings for Hermione over the past couple of years. Everyone knew how he felt except him and perhaps, Harry surmised, Hermione. She was a clever witch, but Harry knew that her emotions sometimes got the better of her, like the time in their first year when they were caught by the Devil's Snare. Instead of thinking logically about the situation, she became hysterical and forgot that she could cast a fire spell to repel the plant.

So if both Ron and Hermione were oblivious to the situation, then their mutual stubbornness could keep the tension going for a long time. What they needed was a push in the right direction, and Harry knew that he would need help to make that happen. He needed someone close to both Ron and Hermione, who had their trust and was capable of pranking them.

Harry's thoughts carried on for a moment but were broken by the sound of a slamming door and the squeaking hinges of the back screen door. Soon a soft sobbing sound could heard in the distance, and it grew closer with every passing second. The form of Ginny Weasley appeared in his view, holding her arms close to her chest, her head bowed, walking purposefully towards the tree where he sat. As she climbed the hill, he could clearly hear her intermittently sniffing and sobbing into a handkerchief.

So intent on the ground in front of her, Ginny didn't notice Harry until she was about to step on him. "Harry! Wha--what are you doing here?"

"I was just admiring the view." Harry was referring to the now twinkling lights of Ottery St. Catchpole, but he hadn't taken his eyes off Ginny's face. "Care to have a seat?"

Sighing in relief, she sat down beside him and resumeabbing at her eyes. The silence lengthened between them and Harry moved slightly to face her properly. "Are you all right? Has something happened?"

Ginny waved her hand as if to shoo a fly and said, "No, nothing too important." She seemed to hesitate for a moment as if to decide whether or not to continue. "It's just Percy. He sent mum a letter and told her she was wasting her time trying to get him to come back to the family. He said that he would continue to ignore us until we stopped deluding ourselves about who really leads the Wizarding world. In other words, that we should follow Fudge like Percy does and not Dumbledore."

Harry noticed that her teeth were clenched as she spoke and her hands were pulling at the handkerchief roughly as if it were Percy's neck. All trace of sadness had left her as she seethed in rage. "The stupid prat! Who does he think he is, treating mum like that? If I see him again, it will be too soon. I've needed to practice my Bat Bogey hex on someone anyway."

Through it all, Harry had decided that it was best to let her vent, as she obviously needed to. Inside, however, Harry's mood reflected Ginny's exactly, and he secretly wished he could be the one to hex Percy into a quivering mass.

"But poor mum. She still loves him and it hurts her when he acts like this." Sadness returned to Ginny and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. The bright moonlight made them glisten on her pale skin. "Oh, Harry. What are we going to do? Just when we need the family to be at its closest, he has to go and send a letter like this."

Defying the feeling of panic inside him and ignoring all sense of reason, Harry reached out an arm and captured her in a hug. "It'll be all right, Gin. You'll see. Percy may be an insufferable git, but he is still your mother's son," he breathed into her hair.