Harry was lying in the soft grass outside the back of the Burrow, throwing the Weasleys beat up old ball that doubled as a Quaffle for the Weasleys makeshift games of Quidditch up into the air and catching it in the space above his head. Ron was laying down across from him with his elbows resting on an open copy of his favorite book, Flying with the Cannons. Ron had 'taught' Harry about Quidditch ages ago, but Mrs. Weasley had positively outlawed the boys from allowing Harry to play with them because of his supposed physical and emotional frailness and she had even, to Harry's utter embarrassment, banned them from playing without him. Therefore, all six of the boys remained grounded, eyeing the homemade pitch that the Weasleys had put together in the orchard behind the Burrow longingly.

Scabbers had never turned up, not that Harry had expected him to, and Percy was quite troubled over it but it seemed Ginny was the only one who was sensitive to her brothers plight. At first the two of them had gone searching through the gardens and orchard behind the Burrow, calling out Scabbers' name fruitlessly, but the excursions grew less and less frequent as the days went by. Eventually, they stopped all together, to Harry's relief. The twins still watched Harry closely, but didn't seem to take their mission to 'find his secret' as seriously as Harry had feared they would. The more normal Harry seemed, the more bored they got with him, and it seemed he had finally gone down from three shadows to one. Thoughts of Remus, Sirius, and Pettigrew often occupied Harry's mind, and he wished they would write him and tell him what was going on, but they had remained frustratingly silent towards him since that afternoon he'd gone to Remus' flat.

"Harry!" a voice shouted suddenly, making Harry jolt and miss the Quaffle which then slammed into his face with surprising force.

"Oww," He groaned, pinching his stinging nose and spitting out a strangled, "What?" Charlie was striding towards them from the broom shed, an old Shooting Star in hand. He was flanked by the twins, both holding their brooms in one hand and a handle to the chest that held the set of makeshift Quidditch balls in the other, the wooden box bouncing heavily between them. They couldn't play with real Quidditch balls just in case they escaped and flew into the nearby muggle village. Harry and Ron both leapt up off the grass excitedly, running to meet the older boys in the middle.

"Mum?" questioned Ron disbelievingly. Charlie smirked at him, combing a hand through his short red hair.

"Don't worry about mum. I've handled it." He said proudly, brushing past Harry and Ron towards the orchard. Fred and George pushed past them as well, mimicking Charlie's puffed out chest and walking with unnecessary swinging of their shoulders.

"By the end mum was practically begging me to play." George said in a deep voiced imitation of Charlie.

"No need to thank me, it's all in a day's work for a dragon tamer." added Fred haughtily, making Charlie swing at the both of them with his broom.

"You guys are the worst, you know that?" said Charlie in annoyance after the twins ducked under his swinging broom just in time.

"We know." The twins said simultaneously, continuing towards the field without remorse. Ron and Harry bolted over to the shed and pulled out Ron's broom as well as Bill's old broom for Harry. When they reached the pitch, Harry handed the 'Quaffle' to Charlie and they divvied the teams.

"It would be easier if we had another player…" Charlie mused, and Harry perked up.

"Ginny could play!" He offered hopefully, but the boys shook the idea off saying she didn't know how and she was a girl, what if she got hit and started crying. Harry tried to hold back a scoff at the thought of Ginny crying during a game of Quidditch, but knew they wouldn't budge. Ginny had mentioned that she had learned to play Quidditch by teaching herself on her brothers brooms secretly, which was rather impressive when you thought about how many people she'd had to dodge to achieve that. Ron noticed Percy watching from his window that faced towards the orchard.

"Duh," said Ron, "Percy!" and all the Weasley boys seemed to collectively remember that Percy was a part of the family. Fred jogged closer to the Burrow, stopping when in a better view of the window which Percy immediately moved away from, embarrassed to have been caught looking.

"Percy, come play! We're down one player!" He called up to the window. Percy pushed the window open and leaned out.

"Well I'm quite busy writing that potions essay for Snape you know-"

"You finished that weeks ago, Perce, just come play with us." interjected Fred impatiently. Percy adjusted his horn-rim frames up on his nose, looking back at the orchard where his brothers and Harry were waiting hopefully.

"Well I suppose I could spare half an hour or so…" He conceded timidly, closing the window. He reappeared after a couple of seconds at the Weasley's back door, striding quickly to the broom shed. When Percy reached them, Charlie divided the teams up and they began playing.

The boys played for hours, returning to the house sweat soaked, dirty, and chattering excitedly.

"But did you see that catch?" Harry enthused, and that set them off on a play by play of a catch Harry had made while upside down on his broom.

"-snatched it right out from under his nose!"

"Did you see his face-"

"-Charlie was so mad!" They prattled on about Quidditch all the way up the stairs to their respective rooms to strip off their dirty clothes and each take a turn in the shower. Harry reached into the trunk that Dumbledore had left on the Weasley's doorstep a week ago with a note that said 'All of Harry's worldly possessions' on a slip of parchment, resting on top of a small pile of Dudley's old clothes handed down to Harry as well as a few small trinkets he'd kept in his cupboard. The thought of Dumbledore showing up at the Dursley's door after knowing everything that had occurred between Harry and Uncle Vernon was Harry's greatest joy, and he planned on questioning Dumbledore about it as soon as he got the chance. Oh, if only he had gotten to see the Dursleys faces when they opened their door to find Dumbledore in all his bearded, starry robed glory.

But more importantly, buried under the few things Harry had called his own while living with the Dursleys was Harry's fathers invisibility cloak. He was ecstatic to find that Dumbledore had returned it earlier than Christmas this time, and kept it hidden from all but Ron. The duo had already used it twice to prank Fred and George, which to be fair was more retribution than anything after finding that the twins had filled Ron's room, which he shared with Harry, with a dozen very angry garden gnomes.

"Are you sure you've never played Quidditch before, Harry?" Ron questioned Harry again, disbelievingly. Harry nodded, not looking up from shuffling in his trunk.

"Of course not, I've only just learned about magic haven't I?" He said matter of factly, not meeting Ron's eyes. Ron flung himself onto his bed, exhausted from the days play.

"I know, but you're good. Like, really good." He continued, pulling one sweaty sock off at a time and flinging them into the corner of his room. "I bet you could even make it onto a team at Hogwarts in a few years!" Harry beamed at him from across the room, dragging a fresh shirt over his head.

"You're good too, mate. A spot on keeper." He complimented Ron, thinking of their last year at Hogwarts and the many choruses of 'Weasley is our King.' Ron grinned up at the ceiling in thought.

Harry and Ron had been growing closer and closer each passing day, which meant the world to Harry and sufficiently doused his fear that they wouldn't be able to get along like they used to. And sure, Harry had to pretend to be a little more juvenile than he was, but being treated as a child and dealing with the emotional functions of a child made it much easier than one would think. It was for these reasons Harry attributed his rather strong reaction towards both his uncle and Ginny when he first arrived back here. The mixing of adult thoughts and childish emotions could sometimes have a powerful effect and, in his uncle's case, lead to disastrous events.

As far as Ginny went, Harry was frustrated with himself for displaying such strong emotions toward the girl who obviously didn't have the capacity to reciprocate at the ripe age of nine. She had a crush on him, that much Harry knew. But crushes faded, and maybe this time's Ginny wouldn't ever grow to like him more than that. He missed the girl he knew, the mature and intelligent woman he had come to love that haunted his dreams day in and day out. It was a strange feeling, being a couple of yards away from someone yet still feeling as though you had lost them. This nine year old girl was Ginny, but she wasn't his Ginny. Not yet. So he was resolved to try and distance himself, for fear of scaring her off. Besides, he mused slyly, do they not say that absence makes the heart grow fonder?

Ginny wasn't the only girl missing from Harry's life; not a day went by where Harry didn't think about Hermione. It was a hard transition, going from being with someone every day for months and months, and then suddenly nothing. He also worried that his coming back in time would throw off Harry, Ron, and Hermione's friendship. What if Hermione wasn't in the bathroom that day Quirrell let the troll into Hogwarts? He couldn't comprehend the things he would have to do or the situations he would have to manipulate to make sure things happened the way they were supposed to. Additionally, Harry could barely stomach the idea of dealing with Quirrell for an entire year while pretending to know nothing about him.

"You awake, mate?" Ron inquired, raising a gleaming red eyebrow. "You were staring at the wall for at least three lifetimes." He joked, sliding fresh new socks onto his feet. Harry mussed his hair tiredly, then closed the trunk Dumbledore had gifted him with a quiet click.

"Just tired. Quidditch is fun, though! We should do that more often." He said in an effort to change the subject. Ron, of course, noticed nothing.

"Sure is!" Harry's best friend enthused, and they spent a while talking about the Chudley Cannons and the guaranteed comeback they would make one day, a very familiar topic for Harry.

While eating dinner, a brown barn owl soared through the window that Mrs. Weasley had left open to let in the cool summer breeze. It perched on the bread basket that rested in front of Harry, sticking its leg out towards him. It was addressed to him in an elegant, looping script. He unfolded the envelope, gently tugging out the first folded parchment, and shared a curious look with Ron. The first letter was short and Harry read it silently, avoiding the curious gazes around him.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. I am writing to ask a favor of you in which you have plenty room to refuse. Though you would not remember him, one of my most wonderful employee's was a dear friend of your parents and knew you as a baby. Hagrid has asked if he could accompany you to Diagon Alley to collect your school things. I understand you are quite attached to the Weasley family, and they would be more than suited to your shopping needs, but if you are willing I believe you would not find a better friend for your first day in the wizarding world.

With great expectations for the days to come,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry suppressed a grin at the thought of seeing Hagrid again, and resolved to respond to Dumbledore's letter as soon as he could get a moment alone. Still in the envelope were two more pieces of parchment that he recognized immediately as his Hogwarts acceptance letter and supply list. Harry gripped the parchment hard, his chest tightening as he recalled receiving his first ever letter from Hogwarts, the one he was given by Hagrid on his birthday six and a half years ago, other-wise known as twelve days from now. His musing was interrupted by a flutter of wings and excited exchanges between the Weasleys.

"If those are what I think they are, it looks as though all the Hogwarts letters have arrived! Is that what you've got there Harry?" Mrs. Weasley questioned as she bustled around the table to receive yet another barn owl at the window. He nodded, still fingering the parchment contentedly. "Alright, here you go Percy. Fred, pass that to George, there we are. And-" Mrs. Weasley hummed proudly, "Ron. Congratulations, dear." Ron's eyes lit up with a nervous excitement as he hastily took the letter from his mum.

"Wow." He murmured, peeling his gaze from his unopened letter to meet Harry's eyes.

"Yeah." Harry said quietly, and the two friends soaked in their excitement together. A slow smile crept across Harry's face and he watched as it was mirrored on Ron's. Fred cleared his throat noisily.

"Will we be receiving any other exciting news today? A wedding announcement, maybe?" He teased while George and Charlie grinned ear to ear.

"Oh bugger off, Fred." Ron muttered agitatedly, ripping his envelope open. At the words 'wedding announcement', Harry had looked at Ginny who was sitting at the other end of the table near Mrs. Weasley. She had been watching him with a strange expression and, in her embarrassment, dropped her elbow into the butter dish.

"Oh Ginny, do take better care!" Mrs. Weasley protested, pulling Ginny's arm up and waving her wand at the smeared butter that had made its home there. It vanished, and Ginny clutched her arm to her chest, hiding her pink face behind her hair. Harry tried to restrain a grin, but was not very successful.

"Nice one, Gin." George ribbed her, and Ginny stood up suddenly from her chair. Her eyes were angry and rimmed with red, and she looked as though she were going to snap at him but then thought better of it. Ginny then swiftly left the kitchen, and the table was silent as they listened to her tread heavily up the stairs. "What's her deal?" George asked dumbfounded after they heard Ginny's door close not so quietly.

"She's being left behind. Just leave her be." Mrs. Weasley ordered softly, spreading some of the elbow butter across her biscuit. Harry eyed the path up the staircase uncertainly, but made no move to follow. He need not make it harder to say goodbye for either of them… But he wasn't sure he could resist checking on her.

After dinner, Ron and Harry poured over their letters together on the living room floor. Harry chattered about Hogwarts excitedly with Ron, but his mind continued to wonder up the stairs and behind a tightly closed door.

"A History of Magic," Ron scoffed. "That sounds like the world's most boring book." Harry grinned at that, thinking of Hermione, and then pointed at another item on the supply list.

"Magical Drafts and Potions. I wonder if we will be making poisons and stuff." Ron's eyes widened, and he looked at Harry significantly.

"That's for potions, Professor Snape teaches that. I've heard that he is a complete git, absolutely foul to take class with." Ron shook his head sadly, as though he pitied Snape. "He's the head of Slytherin House, you remember the one I told you about? Pure evil, the lot of 'em." Harry's brow furrowed, and he stared down at the carpet.

"I'm sure he's not all bad." He muttered, images from Snape's vile of memories burning through his mind. The words "look at me…" whispered across his brain, and Harry found himself unable to speak for a moment. Ron shrugged his shoulders, not understanding Harry's discontent.

"Uh yeah, maybe not," Ron said sounding unconvinced, "want to play Exploding Snap?" He asked by means of changing the subject, and Harry forced a casual smile.

"Sure, just let me go to the bathroom first." He said, standing up tiredly. "I'll be right back." He called over his shoulder, and then ascended the staircase quietly. Ginny's room was on the first level, and Harry found himself standing in front of her door nervously. There was no noise from inside, and he wondered for a moment if she was sleeping when she called from inside.

"Mum, I'm fine. I'm sorry I stormed out, but there's no need to hover." She sounded frustrated, and Harry considered leaving. He hesitated there another moment before he heard her say, "You can come in if you'd like." When he made no move, feeling very trapped in his split second decision, Ginny sighed and yanked the door open catching them both very off guard.

"Ahh, yes." He said awkwardly, shuffling his feet backwards. "Well, just remember mummy knows best." Harry clasped a hand to his heart, trying to play off the situation. Ginny averted her eyes uncomfortably, her hand still resting on the doorknob as though she were ready to close the door in his face.

"Oh. Hey, Harry." Harry twined his fingers together, rocking back on his heels.

"Hey. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said, moving his eyes slowly up to hers. She met his gaze and quickly looked away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." She said mutedly.

"Ginny." Harry said emphatically, forcing her to meet his eyes again. They held each other's gaze for a long moment, Harry searching her cheerless brown eyes. "Don't be sad." At this she turned away, facing her back to him.

"That's easy for you to say. You won't be alone all year; no brothers, no magic, no…" She trailed off, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"No Harry?" He teased, and Ginny threw him a dirty look over her shoulder. He put his hands up in surrender. "Joking! Only joking." He took a step forward, leaning into the doorframe only a half step behind her. "You think that's bad? I have to go a whole year with no Ginny. Now that is something to be sad about."

"Oh stop." Ginny muttered embarrassedly, and Harry pushed her lightly on the shoulder.

"You stop. You promise to write me all the time, right?" He demanded, pulling on a lock of her hair when she didn't respond. She slapped his hand away, but conceded by turning to face him.

"You'll be too busy to write me with all your classes and new friends and all that." She said begrudgingly, and Harry raised his eyebrows emphatically. "Okay! I'll write you. But only if you write back."

"Oh, I will." Harry said happily, "I'll write you so often you'll never want to see me again. You'll wish you'd never met famous Harry Potter." He joked, and Ginny smiled embarrassedly.

"I really doubt I'd ever wish that." She murmured, halfway to herself. They locked eyes again, and a feeling passed between the two of them. How Harry had been so blind to Ginny for so many years, he would never understand.

"Come play Snap with me and Ron." He commanded her, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him without waiting for a response. Ginny followed him, looking down at their clasped hands bewilderedly. So much for his 'hands off' approach towards her, Harry thought to himself though he was somehow unable to draw upon the proper remorse.

Charlie left four days before Harry's birthday to start his training. There had been many tears from Mrs. Weasley, and hugs all around. They played one last Quidditch game together, and Ginny even stuck around to watch and keep score. Then, suitcase in hand, the whole family watched from the front of the Burrow as Charlie waved goodbye and disapparated.

When the morning of Harry's birthday arrived, he was awoken by a loud honking noise directly in his ear. He sat up sharply with arms flailing while Fred and George laughed mercilessly. Ron, too, had been forced awake, though he didn't look quite all there with his eyes rolling around in his head like a madman.

"Bloody h-"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!" The twins cried in unison, cutting off Ron's bellowing while pulling the strings of little party poppers that rained confetti down onto Harry's bed. Fred handed Harry a popper as well, which he took confusedly.

"Go on, Harry! It's your birthday!" George said gleefully, miming pulling a string. Without thinking, Harry pulled the string and caught a blast of purple powder. The room erupted with laughter; even Ron had begun howling with amusement in his half awake state.

"That," Fred began vengefully, "is for that very well orchestrated slug prank."

"We all know there's no way Ronnikins could have pulled that off by himself." George confirmed, making Ron call from his bed with a sharp 'Hey!'.

"…I hate you guys so much right now." Harry said with his eyes shut tightly, puffs of powder flying from his lips while the three Weasleys had a good laugh at his expense.

"Did I miss the surprise?" Harry heard Ginny call from the doorway, her voice full of mirth. He wiped his eyes furiously so he could sport a proper glare in her direction.

"Traitorous Weasleys…" He spat, carefully climbing out of bed to go clean himself in the bathroom. At this, there was another howl of laughter that had Harry confused until he turned to see the purple circle that had been left on his bed and the wall behind it, which had a very clean, very Harry shaped, spot in the middle. He stormed out of the room to the sound of their continued hilarity, annoyed but good-humored.

After cleaning up and receiving an apology from Ron for his participation in laughing at Harry's misfortune, they all went for breakfast. Mrs. Weasley made Harry eat enough for someone three times his size in honor of his 'special day', and told him they would be having a small celebration later that afternoon.

"That's not necessary, Mrs. Weasley, really!" Harry implored, but there was no budging her.

"It is too necessary, a boy only turns eleven once you know!" She admonished, going about the kitchen in a flurry. "Besides, Professor Lupin and Hagrid have already said they're coming!" At this, Harry's face lit up with new hope. He was finally going to get some information out of that damned Lupin! And, of course, seeing Hagrid was always a treat.

"Well, I suppose if it really isn't too much trouble..." He murmured, deep in thought. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him and shooed him away to play in the yard with the boys. As he made his way outside, his mind ran through all the questions he had for Remus. Firstly, where was Pettigrew? Harry had expected to hear something by now, if not from Sirius and Remus, then from the papers at least! Why wasn't anything being done? It made him worry that something had gone wrong, and his heart ached for Sirius and to know of his safety, but he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to his godfather if he could at all help it. Another thought that weighed heavily on him was the possible ripple effect that his and Sirius' not so small changes in the timeline would have in the long run. For example, if Pettigrew were never to find Voldemort, then Voldemort would never return to a physical being. And if that didn't happen, how was Harry supposed to finish him off? He really just needed to sit down with Sirius and Remus again, for more than just an hour this time. With a frustrated sigh, Harry shook his head and ran off to meet Ron in the warm July sunshine.