Author's notes:

Standard disclaimer, it all belongs to JKR.

So, despite promising this, I'm not all that sure about it. This started out to be a year six story with a year seven story to follow and stalled at the end of summer after year five. So now it's a summer after year five story that stands alone. Parts of it I like and parts make me cringe and I will admit to both Harry and Ginny acting far out of character. Though to be honest, how they might act once they spent any significant time together is pretty up in the air at this point because they simply haven't spent much time in each other's company. So maybe it's ok. The other thing I'll say is the two of them go through some rather extreme levels of denial.

There are a few canon changes to note. Ginny's birthday moves to September 12th. She's still a year behind Harry and Ron but is only a bit more than six weeks younger than Harry. Ron's birthday must also move from March to September which makes him like Hermione in being seventeen only a few weeks after starting year six. Last change is Fleur's birthday moves to September 12th as well. There was a point to Fleur, Hermione and Ginny all sharing the same birthday that would have eventually been revealed and if I ever pick this up again will be revealed at that time. For now, it doesn't matter too much. Just note the change.

Sorcerer's Muse

Harry Potter; the Unexpected Summer

Chapter I

Mutiny

He stood in plain sight across the street from number 4 Privet Drive; glaring with no small amount of distaste at the large man who climbed from the car. His eyes shifted to the woman who climbed from the passenger side. It was an odd pairing for certain. She was as thin as he was fat. The taste she left in his mouth wasn't any better. Their son climbed from the back seat of the vehicle. Unburdened of his immense bulk it rose nearly two inches from its previously low squat. All three of them slammed their doors shut and immediately went into the house, slamming that door shut behind them also. Not one of them so much as noticed him standing across the street.

He continued to watch the last occupant of the car; who sat in the back seat for nearly fifteen minutes before the door of the house opened. "Get in here before the neighbors see you!" the woman shouted. She slammed the door shut again. It was another minute before the car's last occupant opened his door and stepped out. He closed the door softly and moved around to the back where he pulled a trunk and a rather large birdcage from the boot.

The boy sighed heavily before picking one end of the trunk up and dragging it to the front step of the house. He left it there, turned to fetch the birdcage and stopped, staring straight at him. The boy scowled at him and his wand slid from a holster on his wrist to his hand. Never taking his eyes from him, the boy warily retrieved the cage from the drive. He walked backwards to the house, opened the door, set the cage inside and heaved the trunk in the door. He then stood in the door glaring across the street at him.

"BOY, SHUT THE DOOR!" a voice bellowed from the house. "THE BLOODY DAMN AIR CONDITIONER IS ON."

The boy spared a glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to him. After a second, he raised his wand and mouthed, "You're dead," before backing into the house and closing the door.

Harry Potter's hand shook as he let his wand slip back into the wrist holster Bill Weasley had given him when the train had arrived at King's Cross Station. Bill had shown him how to use it just before he'd been forced to leave with his aunt and uncle and he had spent the ride home from the station continually practicing the action that moved the wand from the holster to his hand and back again. A malevolent glare, along with a mention of missing the deadline of his first letter to his 'Freak' friends three days from now had silenced his relatives' protests.

Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and hurried up the stairs to his room. He set the cage in its place and quickly moved to look out the window. The man was still there. Between his hooded muggle sweatshirt, which he wore up to hide his face, and jeans, he looked like any other muggle. Even his dragon hide boots, which had been the telltale Harry had picked out identifying him as a wizard, would pass by a muggle as nothing more than a well made pair of leather boots. Harry swore silently when he realized the man's gaze was focused on his window before he had even stepped in front of it. Harry continued to watch as a young couple walked down the street. They passed not two feet from the man without even realizing he was there.

"BOY, GET THIS TRUNK OUT OF THE ENTRY!"

Harry scowled and ignored his uncle. After learning from Dumbledore exactly why he needed to return to his aunt's house each summer he couldn't imagine how any of Voldemort's followers had found him. The muggle dress really confused him as to if it was indeed one of his enemy's lap dogs standing across the street. "You'd think if he was from the Order, he'd give some kind of signal instead of just standing there," Harry muttered. Almost as if the figure had heard him, he reached up and pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back revealing a head of red hair tied back in a long ponytail. Across the distance they locked eyes, continuing to measure the other. After a second Bill Weasley raised a hand and gave him the finger.

Harry blinked; and it took him a second to realize Bill was taking the mickey. He remembered the first time he'd ever seen Bill and the impression that he was just, simply, cool. Seeing him now, he felt even more strongly that he'd been right. Harry couldn't help the grin that broke his sour expression and returned the gesture. Bill smirked and gave a quick wave before he simply disappeared from sight.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. Harry sighed and turned to retrieve the rest of his belongings.

HPHPHP

One week later, Bill sat down on the rickety chair in Harry's room. The clock read 2:50am and Harry was sound asleep with his back to him. Bill kicked the bed. "Get up, Potter."

Harry didn't move. Bill kicked the bed again. "Come on dumbass; even Ron couldn't sleep through that.

"Go away," Harry muttered.

"Get over yourself, Potter," Bill said. "I haven't got the time, nor the inclination, to deal with your self-loathing."

"Then leave."

"You've got till the count of three to turn around and look at me." Bill waited a half beat before beginning his count. "One… Two… Three. Don't say you weren't warned."

Harry let out a yelp and shot up in the bed, trying to fend off the stream of ice water from Bill's wand. "KNOCK IT OFF," he shouted.

Bill continued to soak him for a good ten seconds before he stopped. "Damn that was fun," he laughed.

"Piss off!"

Bill smirked. "Should have got up I guess, or maybe warded your room." He tossed Harry his glasses.

Harry put them on and glared malevolently at him. "Arsehole."

"Glad I've got your attention. To repeat, why didn't you ward your room?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know how. And I'm under age and can't do magic outside of school," he added.

Bill watched him for a second before he moved to slip his hand in the long leather duster he was wearing. He produced a sheaf of parchment from inside. "You and I need to talk." He tossed the sheaf of parchment on the bed. Harry scooted away from it. Worried it's a portkey?" Bill asked.

"How do I know it isn't?" Harry countered as only a teenager could.

Bill laughed. "Give it a rest, Potter. Do you really think I'd bother to wake you up for a nice chat before I hauled you away to my master if I was one of Tom's sycophants?"

Harry blinked rapidly. "How do you know his real name?" he asked carefully?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Bill said. He paused. "Ginny told me."

"Oh," Harry said. He glanced down at the sheaf of parchment for a second before focusing on Bill again. "How is she? Is her ankle better?"

"Nice to see you remembered she was hurt this time around."

"What's that mean?"

"You think she wasn't upset over Christmas when she found out you'd forgotten what happened to her with Riddle's diary?" Bill asked. Harry had the good sense to look away. A second later, Bill drew Harry's attention back. "Ginny tells me nearly everything."

"I'm sorry," Harry answered. "I'm not always good at paying attention to other people."

Bill smirked. "Yeah, well you haven't exactly been taught well so I'll let it slide this time. But you might do well to listen to Hermione a bit more. She's been trying to knock some sense into you and Ron for quite a while now."

Harry scowled. If he'd listened to Hermione he might have stopped to think long enough to check with Snape about Sirius. It might have saved his life. Harry looked back up at Bill. Hesitantly, he asked, "How bad was it?"

"Her possession?" Bill asked. Harry nodded. Bill regarded him for a second. "You'll have to ask Ginny."

Harry swallowed. He wasn't really sure what was going on but he somehow felt like Bill was measuring him, and he found he really didn't want to come up short. "I will," he said.

Bill nodded. "Be careful," he warned. "She might kill you if you go about it wrong."

"Ok," Harry agreed. He glanced at the sheaf of parchment Bill had tossed on the bed again. "What's this?"

"The paperwork granting you the right to perform magic out of school; the right to apparate once trained, etc. etc."

Harry blinked and his eyes darted back and forth between the parchment and Bill. "You're kidding."

Bill shook his head. "Nope."

"Why'd Dumbledore do—"

"Dumbledore hasn't got a clue," Bill interrupted.

Harry gaped at him in silence for a full ten seconds. "Sorry?"

Bill leaned forward. "I'm in a bit of a disagreement with Dumbledore."

"Sorry?" Harry said again.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush, Potter," Bill said. "I've been watchin' you like a hawk for the last week. I've seen how much you're eating. I know how much sleep you're getting. I know you're beating yourself up over what happened at the ministry. Frankly, at your current rate I figure you'll save Riddle the trouble of killing you and just keel over dead in another month. And I figure if that happens the rest of us are pretty much fucked." He sat back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest.

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "You know the prophecy."

Bill shook his head. "Nope, couldn't get it out of the old man. But it don't take a genius to figure it out."

"It doesn't?" Harry croaked.

Bill twirled his wand absently. "Nope. History repeats itself, Potter. And wizarding history is littered with prophecies of dark lords and the hero who will stand against them. We spent all of last year keeping Riddle out of the Hall of Prophecy. Oddly enough, he wanted the one you went in there and got. The fact that you're not babbling incoherently in St. Mungo's after touching it tells me it's about the two of you. His obsession with killing you, tells me the prophecy says if he doesn't, then you're gonna kill him. Dumbledore's obsession with keeping you alive, tells me if you don't snuff ole Tommy boy, there aint no one else who can." Bill paused. "Am I right?"

Harry slowly nodded. "Yes."

"Tell me something, did Dumbledore ever mention there were other options for teaching you occlumency?"

Harry's head snapped up. "No."

"There are," Bill said. "Granted they may not be as skilled a practitioner as Snape, but I'll bet my balls they can teach better. And let me tell you, Fleur wouldn't be happy if I lost that bet."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Me, for one. Ginny for two."

"Ginny?" Harry asked, shaking his head slightly.

"I've been training her ever since the diary. She's become rather skilled over the last three years. Again, she's not as good as Snape. Neither am I, but I'll bet if one of us had been teaching you, you could have stopped those dreams Riddle was sending you."

As quickly as hope blossomed in Harry's chest it crashed. "Only if I had actually been trying to block them," he said morosely.

"What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "I kind of stopped trying to block them because I wanted to know what the dream was about. I'd been having it all year, and kept waking up before I got to the end."

Bill pursed his lips and nodded. "If you'd know the dream was being sent to you instead of made within your own mind do you think you would have tried harder to block it out?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. "Maybe," he shrugged. "I don't know. I might have still wanted to find out what was at the end."

Bill sat back in his chair again. "But you would have known it was an image being sent to you on purpose. Not something you'd gotten from Voldemort on accident like you did when dad was bit at Christmas. That might have made your reaction different." Bill paused and thought for a second. "Would it have saved Sirius?" he asked. It was his turn to shrug. "We can't say. The point is, there are other people who could have trained you, or even helped train you. Ginny was right there. But you weren't told she could help and we were told to keep our mouths shut unless you asked for help. I've been blindly listening to Dumbledore; what to do, when to do it, how to do it, forgetting that I can think on my own. He's so revered we think he's infallible, that he never makes mistakes and always does the right thing. I've decide he's making a mistake and I'm not going to blindly follow him on it."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Bill leaned forward again. "If this is the safest place for you, if you're as untouchable here as he says you are, why on earth do we need to put guards on the house?"

Harry shrugged. "Extra precaution?"

"Waste of man power," Bill countered. "If you're at the Burrow, my mum is there all the time. My dad is there nearly every night. Charlie, myself, Fleur and the twins are there nearly every day. And ever since I put the place under the Fidelius the day you left Hogwarts, the wards are better than they are here. I still couldn't get him to agree to move you.

"I can't understand why he's convinced this place is safer, and I assure you it isn't. But let's assume for a second it is. What good is it to keep you alive if you simply give up the will to live anyway?" Harry shrugged. "See, there it is. When you got to the station a week ago there was a bit of life in you. You weren't great, but you were happy to get the wand holster. You were defiant towards your relatives. You've been here a week and they've already beaten the little recovery you'd managed at school out of you. You need to be where people care about you, Potter. And oddly enough, there seem to be more than a few who do."

Harry studied Bill for nearly a full minute. "So what, you're going to defy the greatest wizard of the last thousand years and take me out of here?"

"Unless you'd rather stay."

"I get a choice?" Harry asked.

"Seems to me you're old enough. You know the risks."

Harry's face pinched. "I can't," he said and lay back on the bed. "Thanks for the offer."

Bill waited for a few seconds before he said. "You know Potter, when I left the house today I glanced at mum's clock. All the hands were pointing to mortal peril and you're not there. Can't imagine why," he added sarcastically. Harry glanced at him. Bill stood up. "Everyone's in mortal peril, Potter; even the Death Eaters. Because the second one of them pisses Tommy boy off, he's gonna snuff 'em." He gave Harry a last look before crossing to the bedroom door. "I'm leaving in fifteen. If you're coming, pack your shit and let's go." Bill left the door open as he left the room and disappeared down the hall.

Fourteen minutes later, Harry's trunk floated down the stairs and hung in the air next to Bill as he leaned against the front door. Harry set Hedwig's cage on the floor. "Dumbledore is gonna be pissed," Bill said.

Harry met his eyes squarely. "The food's better at the Burrow. Let's go."

"You're still gonna need his help."

Harry shrugged. "Deal with that when the time comes."

Bill nodded slowly. "Knew there was a man in there somewhere." He swished his wand in the air, finishing with a sharp jab. "Hang on," he said and held his arm out. Harry grabbed hold and with a sharp crack, he, Bill, his trunk and Hedwig's cage were gone."

Albus Dumbledore looked up in alarm. He rushed to his desk and picked up the loudly shrilling silver instrument. His face blanched and his stomach clenched into painful knots. "Dear God, no," he breathed. He dropped the instrument and it shattered into a hundred pieces on the hard stone floor of his office. He rushed to his fireplace, threw a pinch of floo powder in and stuck his head in. "Severus!" he shouted. He waited a few seconds before shouting again. "Severus!"

Severus Snape stumbled out of his bedroom a moment later, wrapping a dressing gown around his shoulders as he did. "I trust there is a reason for this, Headmaster," he said, his voice it's normal hiss of disgust.

"My office, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Now."

Severus' lip twitched. "A reason, Sir?"

"The wards on Privet Drive are down."

Severus rarely felt the pangs of fear others did. He thought he'd long ago given up any fanciful notions of coming out of the war and his role as spy for both Dumbledore and The Dark Lord with his life. His normally sallow complexion grayed even more. Apparently, even the condemned have hope, he mused. He stepped forward, waving his wand, transfiguring his dressing gown and sleeping clothes to robes. Dumbledore pulled his head out of the fireplace and Severus stepped in, stepping out of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office as the old man straightened from the floor. "You have a plan?" he asked.

They both paused as a slivery streak flashed into the room and coalesced into the shape of a seagull. "I've got Potter. Taking him to the Burrow," the words spilled from the apparition's ghostly beak and it faded out of existence.

"Headmaster?" Severus prodded him when the wizened old wizard continued to stare at the place the gull had disappeared for some seconds. There was a slight trembling within the room that caused a shiver to go up his spine. When Dumbledore turned to him the raw power and anger of the greatest wizard alive blazed behind his sapphire blue eyes. Severus steadied himself. Few people knew that Dumbledore could be just as frightening as Voldemort; he was one of them. "Would it not be wise to verify this report?" he asked.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible at the moment," Dumbledore answered. He sat down at his desk, steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes in thought.

"The reason for that would be?"

"I'm afraid William placed the Burrow under the Fidelius last week. I've yet to be informed of how I can gain entry by the Secret Keeper."

Severus sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore. "I sense you do not believe this to be a coincidence."

Dumbledore opened his eyes and braced his hands on his desk with his arms spread wide. "William visited me two days ago."

"Oh?"

"He sought to convince me Harry would be better off if he was moved to the Burrow. He felt he was sliding into a pit of despair that would take months for him to climb out of if he were left at his aunt and uncle's home."

"And you would not hear his arguments?"

"No."

Severus sat back in the chair, pondering the situation. "I can't say as I'm surprised," he eventually said.

Dumbledore quirked an eye. "Oh?"

"Perhaps some that it was William. But not that the Weasley family in general finally had enough of your dictating and did what they thought was right."

"You approve of this action, Severus?"

"You are quite fond of telling me children must be allowed to be children, Headmaster. Also that they need nurturing environments, blah, blah, blah. As I'm given to understand, the environment at Potter's residence is anything but nurturing. They might be the only people alive who loath him more than I or The Dark Lord."

"You do enjoy your moments of 'I told you so.' Severus."

Severus' mouth creased into a thin smile. "What shall your response to this be?"

Dumbledore frowned. "At this time I am uncertain." He closed his eyes and steepled his fingers under his chin again. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Severus. Please don't let me keep you any longer."

Severus took his dismissal in stride. "Certainly, Headmaster," he said. He stood and stepped into the fire to floo back to his quarters.

Author's notes:

And once again Bill will play a big part in a story I write.