The Daedylus Project

"Cornelius Fudge, dead? Are you serious, mum?"

"Of course I am, Ron, don't be foolish."

"I just mean...woah. I mean, I never liked the old bloke--"

"Ron!"

"But mum? Who will run the Ministry now that Fudge is gone?" Ginny felt a bit nauseous; she'd never particularly liked Fudge either--he was so ruddy plump and imposing--but a high-level assassination wasn't quite to her liking either.

"The Wizengamot will vote in a temporary Minister, who will serve until the next general elections. I only hope they choose someone sensible. If Amos Diggory gets the job--bless him, but I think I'd move to America..."

Fred piped up. "But--but do they have any idea who did this? I mean, could it have been You-Know-Who?"

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "We don't know, darling, we just don't know...your father will hopefully find out more at the meeting in London this morning, but that will of course be mostly confidential..."

George rolled his eyes.

And it suddenly clicked with Ginny. "Mum, what about Harry? I mean, is he really safe at his uncle and aunt's house, with the Death Eaters obviously not being very secretive anymore...I mean, what's to stop them from going after him as well?"

Mrs. Weasley looked worried. "I owled Professor Dumbledore this morning with that very question, he should be getting back to me any moment now...but in the past he's always insisted that Harry is somehow safest on Privet Drive. Goodness knows I wish he was here, away from those horrible muggles..."

Her muttering was interrupted by the arrival of a grey Hogwarts owl. A scroll was carefully tied to its right foot; Fred grabbed the paper, perhaps a bit too roughly; in any case, the owl screeched angrily and pecked at his hand, causing Fred to curse and Mrs. Weasley to groan indignantly.

She waited 'til the raucous had essentially subsided to read the letter.

To the Weasley Family (and especially young Ginny):

Incantations!

I appreciate the concern you expressed in your recent letter regarding young Mr. Potter's well-being. Although I hesitate to make a change before it is proven necessary, I daresay you are correct; after the incident with the Dementor last summer, we can only be too careful. Lord Voldemort is most obviously planning something; I do believe Arthur will fill you in on that in the very near future, Molly. Yes, I think it is the right time indeed to remove Harry permanently from Privet Drive.

I recommend that you move quickly, Molly. Lord Voldemort can be rather expedient when he sets his mind to accomplishing something.

Yours in great haste and starving for a crumpet,

Molly waited for a brief moment, before the buzz began in earnest.

"He can come here!"

"Forever!"

"Well not forever, technically--"

"Yes, but he's going to leave the ruddy muggles!"

"HE'S GOING TO LEAVE THE RUDDY MUGGLES!"

"Curse the muggles."

"Curse all muggles!"

"Fred!"

"Sorry, mum."

"But we have so much to do to get ready for Harry..."

"Oh, come off it, mum! Harry's family. You don't need to do anything..." "Nonsense! There's cooking, cleaning..."

"Well, while you tidy up the house, George and I will go fetch Harry!"

"Very well, Fred, very well..."

"I want to come too." Everyone stopped talking at once; a light, rose color tinged Ginny's face. "If...if that's ok, of course..."

"Darling, I'd really rather..." Mrs. Weasley stopped, as she saw the look of pleading on Ginny's face. So like myself when I was younger... "Oh, very well. Fred, George...take care of your sister!"

"Honestly, mum, I'm not a baby." Ginny sniffed, and scampered out of the room to find something half-decent to wear.

...

Harry lay on the soft grass under the shade of a tall oak tree. The sun was already high in the sky; he'd reclined by the new pool for a while, but his underexposed skin had very low solar tolerance, and he soon noticed his chest and feet turning a rather uncomfortable shade of pink. Ah well. Could be worse. I could be out shopping with Dudley. Buy me this, mummy. Can I have that, mummy? You'd think he'd be thoroughly embarrassed by now...

An aeroplane streaked across the cerulean August sky, interrupting the birdcalls with its distant rumble. Reminds me of Quidditch. I ruddy miss Quidditch! It's crazy; it's only been two bloody months, and I'm already dying to be back in wizarding community. Of course, it's not like that's always the ideal...

Harry's thoughts drifted aimlessly to the events of those last, fateful weeks of fifth year...to the stupid Occlumency lessons, to the insurrection against Dolores Umbridge, to Luna and Neville and...

...and Sirius.

A dull ache struck up its melancholy dirge somewhere in the recesses of his spirit. I still can't believe he's gone. And it's my fault. It's...my...fault.

Harry had sworn to himself to forget it. He'd vowed not to allow resentment to creep back into his life. Fifth year had been miserable; he'd spent half of it moping about Cedric, and the other half complaining about not receiving information from the adults. Well, it was clear to him, now, why they'd held off. He wasn't ready! He wasn't ready to know that somehow, he was destined to face off with Voldemort--and that only one of them would walk away from that final battle.

And I wonder who that will be.

How many times could a kid dodge the darkest wizard of the millennium, anyway? He was up to...he did a brief count...four direct confrontations, if you counted the Chamber of Secrets. Sooner or later, my luck's gonna give out. There's no way...there's just not ruddy way.

But a part of him knew that he would push the odds aside, that he would do what he could to avenge Sirius, Cedric, his parents...and save his friends, or die trying.

I dunno what I would do without my friends. They've been so supportive of me, it's really quite amazing...I've never done anything to deserve such dedication. Nothing.

Ron has stood by me since, since the Hogwarts Express. And Hermione, she's like the sister I never had. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might as well be my step-parents, and Ginny--

His thoughts halted rather uncomfortably.

Well, what about Ginny, then? She's the little sister of my best friend, she's...drop dead gorgeous, and she, um, plays Quidditch and understands me in ways no one else possibly could...

Harry shook himself mentally.

No! There's no ruddy way I could fall in love with Ginny Weasley. It's out of the question. The dynamics would be way too different, if we dated--

Just thinking of dating and Ginny in the same paragraph accomplished two things. One was a slowly dawning realization that bore down on Harry like an eighteen-wheeler. The other was a cold sweat on his forehead, as he realized that he actually could like her, if was willing to let himself.

He shook his head, a daze creeping into his mind. Well, I suppose that is going to make things a bit awkward, whenever I see them...see her...again...but she's dating Dean Thomas anyway, so it doesn't ruddy matter...

"I always did like the color red, though," he said aloud.

"Funny, that," a girly voice giggled from somewhere behind him. "I find ebony black to be just my style."

Harry jumped awkwardly to his feet, tripped, and went sprawling headfirst into the pool.

He surfaced to find himself several feet away from a laughing, sundress-clad, much tanned Ginny. He found her a bit difficult to take in; somehow, over the course of two short months, she'd filled out considerably, put on several inches in height, and developed all of the right curves that would make any boy her age stare somewhat goggle-eyed.

"Hi Harry."

She knows my name.

Of course she knows your name, you buffoon. She's ruddy Ginny.

"Um--hey, Ginny! Uh, what are you, um, doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I dunno, just taking a stroll around the park and thought I'd drop in for some genuine Muggle hospitality. Nice swimming pool."

"Yeah, it's for Dudley, but he never uses it."

"I doubt he could stay above the surface, he's a ruddy elephant."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause, in which Harry realized rather conscientiously that he was still in his swimming trunks...he noticed, or at least thought he noticed, Ginny's eyes wandering casually below his neck. He got up out of the pool hurriedly, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around himself.

"So, um, why are you really here?"

"Dumbledore owled mum this morning. We're bringing you back to the Burrow. Dumbledore doesn't think it's safe for you here anymore."

"Excellent! I'll go and get my stuff. Uh--you didn't come by yourself, did you?"

Ginny giggled again, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "Heavens, no! Ron and Fred and George and all are in front. Wanted to keep an eye out, or something, make sure no evil Death Eaters come to prey..." she smirked. "Though I seriously doubt they'd strike in mid-day in a Muggle neighborhood."

Harry grew serious. "You never know, Ginny. These days...I dunno, nothing's predictable anymore."

"Yeah, true. So go get your stuff."

"Wanna come in?"

"Sure."

...

"So how's business been?" Fred, George and Ron sat cross-legged on the front lawn, near the doorstep, watching the street carefully. Ron fingered his wand semi-consciously; it always felt good to have it by his side.

"Excellent. For the most part. Things tend to be slower during the summer months, I'm not quite sure what that is...I suppose fewer wizards care to make the trek to Diagon, though I frankly don't understand because summer is supposed to be a time for relaxation and fun, and our shop serves both of those needs with superior style."

"Our profits are steady, and growing," George piped in. "At the current rate, we project that we will open our first subsidiary store--likely in Hogsmeade, to serve as a bit o' competition for Zonko's, within six or eight months."

"Wow. Run Zonko's out of business?"

"I doubt it. Then again, poor old Zonko's rather lost his touch. His creations are too standard, too typical--we experiment, you see, we come up with ideas that have never been attempted before. Who but the Weasley Bros., esq., could dream up Canary Creams? Who but Messrs. Gred and Forge could possibly imagine Skiving Snackboxes?"

"True, that."

"That man is staring at us."

All three went very quiet, and gazed with feigned looks of casualness at a rather scruffy man in a black overcoat, leaning against a nearby streetlight and watching Number Four Privet Drive rather keenly.

Too keenly.

"I didn't expect Death Eaters in broad daylight."

"No, but then--Dumbledore did say You-Know-Who likes to move quick when he gets an idea in his ugly serpentine head."

"Right-o. Well, there's just one. We could take 'im."

Ron looked doubtful.

"I think that's our last resort. Maybe he's just a scout. If we get Harry out quickly, it shouldn't be a problem."

"But how?! The ruddy Portkey is several blocks down, and Privet's not on the Floo anymore, and...and...we aren't all licensed to apparate yet."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're actually waiting on your license?! George and I learned ages before we passed the test. Makes life so much easier when you're late for class..."

"Yes, but--but what if you get splinched?

An uncomfortable glint flashed in George's eye. "Well, there was that one occasion..."

"A simple miscalculation. One in a thousand, won't ever happen again," Fred cut in quickly. "You'll be absolutely fine. I assume you are familiar with the charm?"

"Of course," Ron growled irritably. I hate it when they treat me like some goody goody kid.

"Excellent! On the count of three then...and just focus, little brother. Focus."

...

Harry led Ginny up the polished open stairwell to the upper flights where Dudley's old room was located. Been five years and I still think of it as Dudley's. Feel more at home at the Burrow than I ever will here.

"Wow, Harry...your room, it's..."

It was immaculate.

"Um...yeah, well, see, Aunt Petunia, she's really finicky about this sort of thing. I have to keep it spotless or it's 'back to the cupboard with you' and it's not like I'm going to put up with that..."

"They can't boss you around like that, Harry, you're sixteen years old."

"Yeah I know, I'd not let them actually do anything to me anymore but still...it makes life around here so much more tolerable--marginally so, anyway--if I keep on Auntie's good side."

Ginny smirked. "Well, a quick charm ought to do it."

Harry started. "Huh?! What about the decree--"

"--for the reasonable restriction of underage magic? Revoked! Dumbledore's doing. Well, I doubt the Ministry liked it, but they haven't much of a choice, have they, when Dumbledore sets his foot down?"

"No, I guess not."

Ginny flicked her wand casually, and Harry's belongings began sorting themselves out in mid-air.

"Really, though...that's ruddy brilliant! We'll have so much more fun..."

"Oh yeah." Ginny smiled engagingly.

She's got such a flair, a fire, an enigma...a something!

The clock struck four.

"Harry, may I ask you something?"

"'Course!"

"Um...how have you been, really? I mean...the things that happened last year..."

"Sirius?"

"Yes."

Harry sighed deeply. "I dunno Gin, sometimes it's hard to believe he's gone...but I learned my lesson last year. I spent so much time mourning Cedric Diggory...I needed to get on with my life, to enjoy what time I had, to seize the day...I've learned that we can't let the past affect our futures. Times are changing, Gin...Voldemort is growing stronger, and you know as well as I do what that means for the wizarding community and the world at large. I--I miss Sirius..." Harry felt his voice break slightly, but he kept going--"but I know that, wherever he is, he's still kinda with me in spirit. Like--like the memories we did share, and stuff."

Ginny's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You've really grown up a lot, Harry. I'm--I'm so proud of you."

Harry found that both peculiar and touching...he also found himself sitting next to Ginny on his bed, and drawing a bit closer to her side...

Ginny touched his hand. "You've been through so much, but you're still so strong...that's courage, Harry. You're a great Quidditch player, a brilliant student and a gifted wizard but--my gosh, you have courage. That's--that's so admirable."

She smiled at him, her chocolate eyes piercing his emerald gaze. Her hand moved up his arm a bit.

"Ginny, I--" they were moving closer, moving faster...

Crack. "Damn it, George!" Ginny jumped aside, as George apparated onto Harry's bed. "Hullo, little sister, Harry...we have--" Crack. "Ron! What do you think you're doing?!" Ginny scowled, while Harry grinned from ear to ear. "Wicked awesome entrance, there, mate!" "Thanks, Harry, I--" Cr-splat! Fred's head appeared hovering in mid-air.

The rest of Fred was not in sight.

"Bloody hell," George swore viciously. "It would seem, brother mine, that we've had a slight accident..."

"Slight, but not irreparable."

"Yes, but the Death Eater..."

"Huh?!" Harry started. "What's going on?"

"Harry, ol' chap, we think we've discovered a visitor out by the lamp post. We don't recognize him; we doubt you will, either."

Harry growled. "Great. So how do we get out of this?"

"First things first," George said smoothly. "We have a splinching to desplinchify." He pulled out his wand, and began a complex serious of chants and charms.

"What about the rest of us?!" Harry asked, surreptitiously.

George wavered momentarily. "Uh--Ron, show Harry and Ginny how to Apparate."

"I can jolly well do it on my own," Ginny snapped. "I'm a Weasley, remember? I've been doing this since...since I was much younger, anyway."

Ron looked doubtful, but said nothing.

Another crack sounded, this one louder than the first two, and the rest of Fred appeared underneath his head, more or less where it belonged. George surveyed him critically. "Well, it's not quite straight..."

Fred let out a strangled growl...

"...but it will have to do until we can get to safer premises." The twins grabbed Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage.

"Alright, Harry," Ron began, "it's quite simple really, disapparation and apparation and all that. You just have to...to really picture yourself at, well, wherever you're going, and swish your wand like this--" he demonstrated "--when you say the chant, go on now, it's not hard, really..."

A crash sounded downstairs.

"And we're short on time!" George suggested with more than a hint of urgency.

"Ok, uh, you and Fred, go 'head with Harry's trunk" Ron grabbed Ginny by the shoulder. "Ginny, get out of here, I'll stay and make sure Harry manages to apparate..."

The twins nodded and disappeared. Ginny scowled, but she pulled out her wand as well. She touched Harry's arm. "I'll see you at the Burrow!" she smiled, and then scrunched up her face in concentration and vanished.

Another crash sounded, this one much nearer to Harry's upstairs room. "Right mate, ya ready?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good 'cuz you have to be. On the count of three then, concentrate, remember..."

A loud knock sounded on Harry's door.

"One--"

"Alohomora!" a man's voice sounded from behind the door. Harry recognized it, vageuly...

"Two--"

The door swung open. Three masked death eaters stumbled in.

"Three!"

Both Ron and Harry vanished, leaving the Death Eaters in their magical wake.

"Damn anyway," the leader swore, "the Dark Lord is going to have a bloody hey-day..."

"Oi! Plum pudding!" Their fourth constituent called from the basement.

They nodded to one another, and headed back downstairs.

...

"Welcome back the Burrow, Harry!" Fred smiled.

"Mum's downstairs, waiting for you," George added. "But...you might want to see to yourself first." He snickered.

"Huh?!"

"I think he means, erm, get dressed?" Ginny smiled slightly.

Harry froze, mortified. I was bloody swimming, and I didn't...

Ron choked, while Harry turned scarlet.

"Um...oh, yeah, I must've...forgotten...uh, right..." he stumbled out of the hallway and into Ron's bedroom.