AN: Please note that I have taken liberties with the family structures of some of the characters so that they do not completely follow the original stories character bios. Sometimes, I have done it for the impact in the plot lines, and other times, it is just a plot device to move the story along.

So that is just a warning for you if something doesn't quite match up to the books.

Thanks, Nys.

Chapter 6

Harry moaned as he rolled over carefully, thankful that he only had bruises this time. He had hoped that with his 'dreaming' that he wouldn't get the visions that the Web had shown him last year. He had been wrong. Instead, it had ripped through him while he had been playing with the wolf pups of Shadow's descendants. They had panicked when he had fallen, calling a healer, but he had awoken before they could reach him. He would have to remember to apologize tomorrow night, but for now, he mourned the gardener, Frank, whose last thoughts had been on saving Harry until the end, and Bertha Jorkins who had died as an unwitting pawn. There was nothing he could do for them and the visions had revealed nothing he didn't already know. He was sure they were going to be some very painful annoyances.

He plodded groggily to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. The youthful face of a fourteen year old stared at from the mirror but Harry had to wonder if he had always looked like this. He didn't know if it was because of his improved eyesight but he barely recognized himself.

In the past few weeks, every spare moment he found he had spent running through the exercises that Lucivar had given him, using a set of sticks and a staff that he had carved out of some trees that he had found in the playground. His goal was to make the movements as close to second nature as he could before he saw Daemonar and his father next.

Because of the constant exercise and the steady supply of food, courtesy of Draco's gift, he had filled out more than in the past summers. The shape of his face was slipping away from a near copy of James Potter, though with the softer lines of prepubescence, into a more masculine squareness. The line of his nose, surprisingly straight considering the abuse, was crested on either side by fine dark brows and led down to bow lips that were almost too wide, but he knew he would grow into them. Surreal green eyes peered out from sooty black lashes and healthy tan skin, drifting to the bed tousled mass of inky black hair spread thickly over his scalp. The only big flaw that he could see was the jagged and puffy scar on his forehead that looked recently inflicted. If he had to label himself critically, then he would say he was two steps left of pretty, but not bad looking for sure.

That would come in handy during the political networking events he would have to face once he claimed his birthright. He could fool the more egotistical politicians with the pretty boy act, though he would have to avoid the ones that would try to get close to him because of his looks. He knew depravity was not only a Muggle device.

Dropping his gaze, he plucked at the thin fabric of his newest shirt, a powder blue polo that hung off one shoulder, and decided that he needed to send another letter to Gringotts. If he could escape for a few hours, likely when took them school shopping, then he could pick up some clothes in London.

There was an explosion of grunts and sleepy groans that signaled the waking of the Dursleys. He didn't rush knowing that he had plenty of time to gather his training weapons and make his way outside without being noticed. Since the days had been getting hotter, Harry had wished that he could take off his shirt as he worked out, but someone was always watching.

In the mornings, it was the older neighbors before they went off to work, watching out the windows. Some would watch with suspicion, while others were simply curious, but the majority were the women of the neighborhood. The part that Harry found disturbing was that he would often catch his aunt staring at him from the kitchen window.

In the afternoons, when he could escape from a surprisingly short list of chores, he would practice to the audience of teenagers from all around the area. The girls would whisper and giggle to each other, which was fairly unnerving, until he went in for the night. Some days, like today, some girls were out earlier. A trio stood just outside of the Dursleys' property, two of them egging on the third until she cautiously approached.

He didn't acknowledge her until she was close enough that he might accidentally hit her if he continued. She was shorter than him by a good two inches, though at least 3 years older, with straight brown hair and pale skin. Her dark brown eyes would flicker up to meet his, only to dart away shyly, over and over.

"Yes?" he asked her softly, his voice not cracking like usual and staying in the low tenor of its prepubescent change. Her skin flushed red and her head dipped, causing her hair to hide her face.

Instead of answering, she pushed a small bag into his arms and scampered back to her giggling friends. A little thrown, Harry dipped his hand into the plastic bag and pulled out a thin black muscle shirt, the tags attached to it hinted that it was new as well. He considered what to do for a moment, but his back was to #4 so they wouldn't be able to see anything.

Stripping off his polo shirt he heard the gasps from his audience but he ignored it as he tore off the tags and shrugged it on. The medium size fit surprisingly well without clinging to his skin when he twisted experimentally. He was also happy to notice that only a few faint scars on his biceps were visible. He tossed the bag into the open bin beside the house and made his way to the group of frozen girls.

"Your name?" He asked the short brunette, struggling slightly to keep his voice from cracking. A taller female, blonde with braces glinting over white teeth when she smiled at him, answered for him.

"Annabelle, her name is Annabelle." she lisped slightly and Harry flashed her a small smile. Her breath hitched and a flush filled her cheeks, though Harry didn't see as he gently snatched up Annabelle's pale hand in his. He caught her wide brown eyes, noticing the soft gold flecks that dotted the irises, as he bowed over her small hand. Inwardly, he smirked at her growing flush, finding these little tricks that Daemon had taught him to be surprisingly fun.

"Thank you, Annabelle." He did his best to replicate the soft purr Daemon got in his voice when he was teasing Jaenelle. He brushed her knuckles across his lips in a gentle caress, careful not to fully touch the skin while he held her gaze. Her knees buckled, face flaming, and she would have hit the ground if her friends hadn't instinctively caught her.

"Boy!" Vernon bellowed, breaking the atmosphere. Harry's back stiffened as he dropped Annabelle's hand to turn and face the waddling Pig in the doorway, an envelope crumpled in his meaty fist.

Pasting on a pleasant expression, he turned back to the girls and bowed formally like Saetan had taught him : "If you will excuse me, Ladies." he made sure that he kept the words mild and soft so that they didn't catch the underlying hate that burned in his chest. He strode away only half listening to the hushed 'Oh my God's that followed him and Vernon as they disappeared.

"What is this?" Vernon gave a failed imitation growl, flapping the envelope and purple writing paper at him.

"A letter about me, I assume."

Vernon snorted derisively, "You assume?" The large man began to read the letter aloud and Harry had to admit that, pawn of Dumbledore or not, could be incredibly endearing. Especially when he saw the stamp covered envelope, though Vernon didn't seem to agree with him. "The postman noticed. Brought the bloody thing to our door personally. Thought it was funny."

Harry's emerald eyes turned frosty. "As any normal person would."

"Don't you speak to me about normal you freak! This is not normal!" He roared, but Harry cut him off softly before he could work himself into a full on rant.

"Only because you are aware of the abnormality while the postman was not." Vernon settled a little. "To him, it probably seemed like a child had sent their first letter to a favorite relative." He almost choked on the words but they did the trick.

Subdued, Vernon looked over the letter again, paying attention to what it actually said this time. "Who is this woman?"

"You have seen her at the station, the mother of all the redheads." He saw the disgusted recognition flare in Vernon's beady eyes.

"What is this Quidd-whatever rubbish?"

"A sport… of my sort."

"Your sort." He spit the words, "What does she mean 'the normal way'?"

"The way that uses means other than your type of 'normal'." The irritation he had been feeling since his uncle's first bellow had started to seep through his voice, spurred on by the useless questions that his uncle didn't actually want the answers to. The pig-like human inflated with rage but Harry overrode him coldly, "I hope that you realize that this is simply a formality as their children will not allow me to miss this game."

Harry didn't move when the pig drew back his arm, only raising an eyebrow. "How will I explain the bruise?" Vernon froze, anger blotching his round face, his fist shaking now that he had no outlet. "I should think that you would be jumping at the chance to see me out of your door, unless there is another reason you want me here?" Vernon stumbled. They both knew that the neighbors weren't the only ones watching him in the mornings.

He was quick to be given permission after that, grinning savagely at the eavesdropping baby whale in the hallway as he passed by. When he entered his room, he caught the over excited puffball of feathers before it collided with his face. He read the subdued but expected update from Ron and penned a quick response, having to pull Pigwidgeon out of his hair where the little bird had nested, and sent it off. He spent another twenty minutes drawing up a formal letter to Gringotts stating that he would be collecting his Marks of Station after the World Cup. He also added that he would need a good sum of muggle pounds. When he was satisfied he attached it to a patiently waiting Hedwig, who glided out the window after a soft croon to her owner. The rest of the day was spent pushing himself through his forms in his new, gloriously cool, shirt.

Packed and ready, the gift from Draca dangling from his ear, Harry stared at the fireplace as he tried to figure out how to take out the fake fireplace before the Weasleys arrived. The Dursleys were all dressed in their finest clothes and huddled together as they watched Harry, who was in his typically oversized jeans and t-shirt, with dark and mistrustful eyes. They were obviously confused with his focus on the electronic fireplace, especially when the Weasleys were set to arrive in close to twenty minutes.

"They will be driving, of course." Vernon snipped.

"No." he answered absently. Deciding on a course of action, he unplugged the electric fireplace and dragged it away from the natural place that had been covered since he was eleven, ignoring the shrieks from his aunt. Vernon lumbered forward to grab him but gaped dumbly when he started yanking the nailed boards off of the wall. Harry stared at the plank in his hands in mild shock, but he didn't pause for long before pulling out the rest.

"What do you think you are doing, Boy?" His uncle growled

Harry dusted himself off, "Do you really want them coming through the front door where just anyone could see them? They don't even own a car. We travel in different ways and through here is one of them." A moment after he spoke, at ten past five, green fire flared in the hole in their wall, making the Dursleys jump.

stumbled out first in long green robes. After straightening, he took in the room, and smiled widely when he spotted the Dursleys. "Ah! You must be Harry's Aunt and Uncle!"

Harry didn't bother intercepting the jovial man, instead embracing George who had come through next, Fred following directly after.

"Alright there Harry? Been eating well?" George asked him as the fire flared once more.

"Well enough," He smiled at them, "Hello Ron." The youngest redhead stared at him dumbly.

, not getting any response from Harry's relatives, focused back on who they had come to get. "Hello Harry! Got your trunk ready?"

"Upstairs." he nodded.

"We'll get it!" Fred volunteered brightly, instantly making Harry suspicious.

He let it go for now, not really worried about any plans to torment his relatives that the twins might have.

" ," Harry saved them all from the inevitable and awkward small talk. "do you think you could repair the fireplace before following us to the Burrow?"

"Repair?" the man blinked, uncomprehending, until he saw the pile of boards and the fake coal burner. "Oh my, what is that?"

Harry grinned at the man's breathless wonder. "An electric fireplace. The boards usually cover the natural fireplace."

"Gracious! How marvelous! Eckeltricity you say? How does it-"

"Will you fix it?" Harry cut him off gently.

"What? Oh, yes yes of course."

"Fix?" Petunia quailed shrilly. "Not with- with that!"

looked confused but Harry confirmed it easily. "With magic, yes." He enjoyed their flinch, "Or would you rather do it yourselves when I'm gone?"

The dig worked, for he knew of their intense dislike of doing any physical labor themselves. looked between Harry and his relatives worriedly until Vernon nodded tersely, though he was scowling deeply.

The thump of the Twins on the stairs drove Dudley, who had originally escaped to the kitchen when the fire first flared, back into the sitting room. Harry silently marveled that the boy could move so swiftly without having to be rolled into the room. Harry ignored the older Weasley who was still trying to make nice with the Dursleys, and focused on watching the twins, who had broken into matching grins when they caught sight of Dudley. Seeing his chance to escape the oppressive atmosphere, Mr. Weasley ushered the boys towards the Floo where he quickly lit a new fire. Fred delayed them a few moments when he had to scramble to gather some sweets that he dropped before he and George took Harry's trunk into the fire. Ron was next, still not having said a word.

Harry tossed off his habitual farewells as he stepped towards the fire, only to be forestalled by Mr. Weasley's parental side rearing its partially bald head. "Harry said goodbye to you, did you not hear him?"

"Mr. Weasley," Harry tried to sooth the man, but he had found his proverbial soapbox.

"You are not going to see your nephew until next summer." his indignation was clear. "Surely you are going to respond."

Harry could see the desire to strike out growing in Vernon's yellowed eyes. The words that he forced out through clenched teeth told the teenager that his next summer was going to be very painful. He felt a flush of disappointment in the Weasley Patriarch when the man looked satisfied at the concession.

Harry stepped into the pleasant warmth of the green flames but didn't have the time to say a word when Petunia's screams erupted behind him over a horrid gagging noise. He spun about to see Dudley kneeling on the floor beside the coffee table, gagging on a footlong purple protrusion that he only distantly recognized as his cousin's tongue. He also noticed the bright coloured but empty candy wrapper on the floor beside him.

Petunia was attempting to yank the slimy beast, now a foot in length, out of his mouth and making the boy sputter as he tried to fight her off. Vernon seemed to be having an epileptic fit, what with the flailing arms. Mr. Weasley was shouting over all of the commotion, saying that he could make things better while brandishing his wand. As soon as Petunia saw the stick of wood, her shrieks ratcheted up a notch and she flung her thin body over her son. Vernon started tossing the china and proving that Arthur had fairly good reflexes as he dodged. Harry almost wanted to stay and help, but the sight of Petunia suffocating her son while trying to rip out his tongue was just too much. He barked out 'The Burrow' as clearly as he could and disappeared in a rush.

He found that he couldn't breathe as he tumbled out of the fireplace, falling to his knees against a lopsided chair as he gasped. Both twins were immediately beside him and the first thing out of their mouths was, "Did he eat it?"

That set him off as he rolled onto his back, clear and easy laughter filling the room. "Yes!" he gasped out finally. "Hell's fire, that was brilliant, whatever that was."

"Ton-tongue toffee." Fred informed brightly, "George and I invented them. We've been looking for someone to test them on all semester."

Everyone joined in on the laughter this time, the Twins pulling him to his feet. Harry leaned against the scrubbed kitchen table and smiled at the identical males in front of him. "I wish I had a pensive to show you the results." they pulled a set of chairs to seat themselves in front of him and he hopped up on the table himself. "Dudley was gasping and flailing about with this great purple thing spilling out of his mouth. Petunia was shrieking like mad and trying to pull it out. When your Dad tried to help, she actually threw that twig-like body of hers over Dudley's. I thought he would roll over and she'd be flattened like a rug." He flashed them a pleased, if malicious, grin that had them flushing with pride.

"Now, Vernon was the icing on the cake. He was going practically bonkers, cursing up a blue streak. When Petunia started letting loose, he got it into his head to start chucking things. And what did he grab first? The fine china Petunia has been collecting for over fifteen years. Cost a small fortune and shatters like cold glass on a hot stove. If his heart survives his little tantrum, he won't survive hers when she finds out."

The Twins were roaring in their seats, echoed by the other occupants of the cozy kitchen. He waited patiently for the laughter to die down, a wicked smile lighting his face. "A little advice though, if you want to earn loads of cash," more than one redhead perked up at that. "dilute the potion, target an appendage much lower and market it to men… or possibly their wives."

Charlie Weasley snorted the water he had been drinking, drawing attention while Bill tried to hide his laughter by helping his coughing brother. Fred and George stared at him in confusion until he gave a pointed look to their laps. The blushes on their faces were almost as bright as their grins. He finally turned his attention to the others in the room, knowing who the oldest were but only meeting them for the first time now.

"How're you doing Harry?" Charlie asked, being the nearest to him.

"Better now." he shook the large calloused hand, taking in the handsome features and freckled muscles. He was a strong one, built much like the Twins and likely a very hard opponent to beat.

Bill got to his feet, grinning roguishly, and made his way in front of the teen. Harry almost shook his hand as well but thought better of it and instead touched three fingers to the red head's brow, just below the hairline, with his right hand then gripped his right shoulder.

Essentially, he had acknowledged the older male as the Weasley House Heir. Harry could tell that the man was shocked at the use of the custom, but he followed through by gripping and pressing Harry's right hand to his forehead while bowing slightly. When Bill became the Weasley Head, then they would simply have to exchange bows, the depth of which was decided by station, and usually only on official occasions.

When the male straightened up, his blue eyes caught sight of the silver oath ring and they flicked upwards to meet serene green. Harry took his time to assess the oldest and approved of the long hair, fang earring and dragonhide boots that rounded out his punk rock outfit.

"What was-" Ron started, the only one confused by the display, but he was interrupted by his father appearing.

"That wasn't funny Fred!" He shouted, "What on earth did you give that boy?"

"I didn't give him anything!" Fred protested. "I just dropped it… It was his own fault that he went and ate it. I never told him too."

"You dropped it on purpose!" the usually soft spoken man roared, "You knew he would eat it just as you knew he was on a diet!"

"How big did his tongue get?" George cut in.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it." the room was once more filled with laughter, Harry tipping forward into Bill's side. "It isn't funny! That sort of behavior seriously undermines Wizard-Muggle relations. I spend half of my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles and my own sons-"

"The Dursleys," Harry cut him off softly but sharply, unable to let that line of talk continue. He stayed pressed against Bill's side but turned steady green eyes to Arthur, stilling his words. "are not the kind of Muggles you want to have 'relations' with. Good or otherwise."

A strange shuttered look passed over the adult's face and Harry had to wonder at what his 'family' had done or said after he left. Arthur plowed on regardless, "Th-that's not the point! You two wait until I tell your mother."

"Tell me what?" A familiar female voice asked from behind them and Harry didn't miss a beat as he slipped off the table.

"How dicey Muggle relations can be especially with tricky cases like my relatives." he smiled winningly, "I'm just grateful that you went through so much trouble to invite me."

Her stern expression melted in the face of his smile, "No trouble at all, Harry dear. You are always welcome in our house. I thought for a moment that it was something to do with the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…"

"I have neither seen nor heard anything about that, I assure you." he patted her hand gently in sympathy, "On another note, Fred and George have offered to show me to where I'm staying, seeing as how they are carrying my trunk and all, is that alright?"

"Yes yes, of course dear," she rounded on the boys. "Well? Hop to it now, and no pranking the poor boy." she warned, waving a finger threateningly.

"Wouldn't dream of it Mum" George grabbed one end of the trunk hurriedly, Fred taking the other end.

"Not in a million years." they rushed past their mother. Harry followed more calmly, giving her a soft 'thank you' and winking at a giggling Ginny who was standing behind Molly along with a frowning Hermione.

"Such a polite boy." He heard Molly gush as he stepped up the stairs. He managed to quiet his laughter into a faint chuckle. The Twins were sending him awed looks but oddly kept silent on their trek upwards. He understood their extra care when a door opened up ahead on the second landing and Percy poked his head out.

"Evening Percy " he greeted.

"Hello Harry. I was wondering who was making all that noise downstairs. I'm trying to work in here and all that laughter is terribly distracting."

"He's working for the Ministry." George informed him.

"What are you working on?"

"A report for the Department of International Magical Co-operation. We are trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin." the eyes of the Twins had glazed over, obviously having heard all of this already.

"That could cause problems in classes like Potions." Harry realized, "Or interfere with your experiments, guys, if your cauldron started leaking prematurely. " They suddenly looked interested.

"Yes, exactly!" Percy beamed.

"Do you enjoy your work, Percy?" he found himself asking softly.

"Very much." His smile confirmed his response.

"Then I wish you the best of luck. Just don't sacrifice your moral ground for advancement." a crease appeared on the brow above the horned rimmed glasses, "I suggest a silencing charm to deal with the noise. Make sure it covers the windows as well."

Percy disappeared into his room, excitement renewed, and they carried on. They settled in Ron's room, now filled with beds. As soon as the door clicked shut the two redheads tackled him onto the two beds that had been pushed together for the twins. They wrestled lightly for a while until he gave up to the futility of it and laid there, huffing under the two males. Fred wound up half draped over Harry's torso while George was curled up against the younger teen with their legs tangled together. The ravenette had his hands buried in their red locks.

"That was a brilliant bit of talking down there," Fred smirked into his chest.

"Saved our hides from a good blistering, I bet." George agreed into his shoulder.

"And I didn't even lie. Care to explain the tension there?"

They did, with little prompting. He hadn't known about their OWL scores or he would have talked to them sooner, but he understood their position. He also understood Molly's. The order sheet business was amusing, especially when they had told him what they had come up with. They were so focused on pouring their hearts out to him that they didn't notice Bill and Charlie enter the room. Harry ignored them, and their amused looks, in favor of the Twins.

"Alright." he started once they fell silent, "The first thing I have to ask is if you two are serious about this business? Do you want it to be more than a 'To order' business?"

"Yes," Fred answered seriously.

George continued, "We found an empty shop in Diagon Alley that we were hoping to make payments on at the end of the year."

"Good. If it works, I will teach you a trick to protect your sheets so that others can't touch them." They curled in closer to the younger teen, smiling, "I will also put a down payment on that building when we go to Diagon. That way, it will still be there when you are ready to move in and you can start making payments." He shushed them when they tried to protest, "You'll need a signature on the lease that can't be disputed if someone else makes a play for the location. Especially since you are minors. Now, most importantly, what is this about your OWL scores? I know how smart you two are, so no excuses."

"We don't really need them and they are a waste of valuable inventing time." George pouted.

"Who said the OWL's were for you at all?" Harry chided, getting grunts of confusion.

"Grades in school are not always for the student receiving them. Sometimes, they are so the parents have a gauge to see the growth in their children that they are not witness to. It lets them know that their little boy or girl will be able to survive when they leave the nest. I bet you've never sat your mother down and explained your plans to her, so she is likely heartsick with worry for your futures. That is what is making her lash out at what she sees as a temporary hobby that is ruining your lives." He finished in the same low voice that he had started with and trailed off into a contemplative silence.

"Bugger." George burst the atmosphere.

"We were right berks, weren't we?" Fred asked morosely.

"So were we when we found our careers." Charlie piped up sympathetically. The twins jumped away in a panic while their brothers laughed. Bill, the quickest to calm down, also took the chance to crawl onto the bed with a still prone Harry and wrapped himself around the teen.

Charlie stopped laughing. "Bill?"

The eldest brother glanced over the head of an equally confused brunette and shrugged awkwardly. "I wanted to see if it was as comfortable to cuddle him as it looked like for our dear brothers."

There was silence.

"Is it?"

Charlie was beckoned over, "It seems so. There is a sort of field of relaxation around him."

"Huh." Charlie pressed against the pliant teen opposite his brother, "More like a breath of fresh after being caught in a cave for a while."

The Twins, who had been staring dumbly, joined the pile to sprawl half on Harry and half on each brother. "We agreed that it was like waking up under warm blankets after a good sleep?"

"Are you all comfortable?" Harry asked dryly. "I'm sure you won't be once I vanish your clothes if you don't move."

Bill stared at his unimpressed expression with amusement. "Considering the position we are in, you might want to reconsider."

Harry stiffened sharply at the thought but his mouth was moving, hopefully before they noticed the slip. "Who said it would just be the clothes that you are wearing?"

The door opening caught their attention before he could carry out the threat. "Hey guys? Mum wants us dow-"

Ron's voice stopped with a squeak as the teen got a good look at the room. The door closed softly when he left without another word. Seconds later, Ginny poked her head through the door, hazel eyes wide with laughter.

"Are you all after Harry or is there a smidge of incest happening here?" she asked innocently. Ron's disgusted cry from the hall was matched by the ones in the room as every redhead sprang from the bed. Harry made good of his escape, slipping out the door and escorting the youngest Weasley down the stairs.

"Dinnertime?" Fred asked from behind.

"Not yet." Hermione answered, "She wants some help setting up outside in the gardens."

"That's us." Bill announced, sliding past with Charlie. Harry felt two distinctively male hands brush against his arm and ribs as they passed but neither man turned back.

Downstairs, they found humming softly as the kitchen utensils and various vegetables flew around her. Fred and George made to step forward but Harry waved them off, sending them out with the rest. They looked pathetically relieved. He approached her slowly, vanishing the fake wand she was about to touch and picking up hers, holding it out.

" ?" She jumped and spun around.

"Oh! Harry dear. Don't sneak up on a lady like that." she pressed a hand to her racing heart. He handed the woman her wand, smiling.

"I was wondering if I could help. I am a fair hand in the kitchen and I feel a little useless not doing something." She didn't realize he had trapped her even as her protests folded. She set him to scrubbing and peeling vegetables and he waited for the quiet between them to become comfortable before attacking. "The twins showed me one of their pranks earlier." he was treading the truth carefully.

She huffed explosively, "Those things! Wasting their time on such- such frivolity! I get so many owls about them from school and they just waste their smarts. Just look at their OWL reports."

She might have run into a full tirade if Harry hadn't cut in solemnly. "It was the first time in months that I have really laughed."

"But they- what? I beg your pardon, hon?"

"The jokes they show me always make me laugh, no matter how my days have been, and I'm not the only one that is true for."

Molly put down her wand to look at him. "Harry-"

"Living with the Dursleys," he would not let her get onto a sympathy/smothering roll if he could help it, but he knew he had to get her emotionally involved. "is not what I would call a good life, and definitely not one that I enjoy. Their pranks, though, can always bring a smile to my face. I know a lot of kids a school, in all the houses, whom they have helped through homesickness, loss and just plain depression with a well-placed candy. And unlike some other groups I know, they have never been willfully malicious."

Molly violently chopped a carrot with a frown. "But this path has no future and all the professors are always complaining to me."

"The Professors are usually upset due to disruptions in the school but they rarely see the end results. Students don't go to them with their emotional problems because Fred and George have dealt with them within the first week of pranks. As for the future… Zonko's is one of the leading businesses in Magical England and they don't have half the genius of the Twins. They are amazingly gifted and they've chosen to use it to bring joy to children."

"Who would support them? We can't afford what it would take to start a business." she admitted painfully, food forgotten and hands wringing.

Harry smiled, "Like I said, they are geniuses. They already have a silent backer willing to invest in them. All they need is a client base, workable products and the patience to wait until they graduate."

"Those order sheets!" she gasped. Her plump hand, covered in bits of potato and carrots, flew to her mouth, horrified. When Harry nodded, she flew out of the kitchen and into the garden where an epic table battle was going on. Harry grinned, easily taking over the physical work in the kitchen as the voices drifted in.

"Mum? Are you crying? What's wrong?" Charlie was the first to notice her and was ignored as the patriarch presumably descended on her twin boys.

"Oh, my boys!" She half wailed," My sweet, brilliant boys! Why didn't you tell me your business was so serious? And I destroyed your orders!"

"S'alright," Fred's voice came out muffled, like his face was being squished. "We always keep copies."

"We just hid them better." George admitted, a little clearer of voice, sounding a little dazed at the abrupt turnaround.

"That's my boys." She was probably beaming at them. "Arthur dear, did you know? Our sons are already entrepreneurs. Not even out of school yet! They have a silent partner and everything."

"Simply marvelous, dear. Never doubted them." 's mild voice was filled with pride. "I'm finding myself a bit parched, excuse me."

Harry was tossing a salad when he slipped into the still bustling kitchen. Molly continued to gush outside.

"A silent backer?" he hinted, pulling out a glass from beside Harry.

"There can never be too much laughter in the world."

"I'm sure the shop-running can wait until after they graduate." Here was more dangerous ground.

"For now it's just marketing and getting their products out there."

"So that when they do open their doors, they will have a good and steady customer base. Did you guide them?"

Harry turned to the stove top and the cheese sauce he had started. "This has been their plan for years. You have just raised your children to be able to find and follow their dreams, ."

A hand, callused from years of writing, landed on his smaller shoulder. "Thank you for all of that you are not admitting to. Please call me Arthur, one Lord to another."

Harry barked out a surprised laugh, "If you'd like."

"Oh! The dinner!" Molly cried from the garden, prompting Arthur to make an exit.

"Harry seems to have kept things well in hand, dear." he commented jovially as she passed him, but she took charge of her kitchen with little fuss and sent Harry out with her husband.

Dinner was an easy affair where Percy quietly admitted to helping Fred and George determine the Misuse of Magic laws and what they could not do. It was obvious to Harry that Percy had been surprised at how pleased his parents had been because of it.

"Do you like law, Percy?" Harry asked once the other conversations picked up, though Arthur was rather covertly listening.

"Yes, it is quite fascinating, and there are so many loopholes in the system!"

"Ever thought of pursuing a career in the field?"

"Well yes, but no firm will hire even an assistant without at least five years in Ministry employ."

"That's not entirely true." a devious idea was forming in his mind and Harry thought that perhaps everyone could benefit. "There is a firm that I know of that is fairly new and unorthodox."

"You must be speaking of the fellows representing Sirius Black. Uhm…er…Secrate and Pennygood, I believe." Percy fumbled for a moment.

"The very same. I do know that they are in need of an assistant to handle paperwork as their cases increase and they would prefer to have someone unbiased by Ministry conditioning."

"The Ministry is not biased!" he sounded so horrified.

"Actually," Arthur jumped in, "The Ministry is incredibly biased and mainly towards Purebloods. Do you know of any Muggleborns in the Wizengamot? Or even as the Head of a department? I believe that Miss. Pennygood left for just that reason."

"But-"

"Just think about it, Percy, and owl me once you have thought it over. The position will be open for a while." Harry finished the conversation, knowing that they wouldn't be able to progress if they continued. The dinner continued peacefully for Harry, between Percy and Ron as he was, until Molly caught his attention.

"You even have Harry following your example!"

"Mum, I just met Harry today. I can't have possibly influenced him already."

"But he never had such a daring earring before this summer." she protested.

"It was a birthday gift from a woman who has often taken care of me. I couldn't refuse," not that he ever would think about refusing Draca anything. He flicked the dangling stone that seemed to be caught in delicate silver threads and it clinked against the metal arms of his new glasses.

"Besides," Bill continued, flashing Harry a smile, "no one at the bank gives a damn about how I dress so long as I bring home plenty of treasures." Harry tuned them out as they turned to Bill's hair and simply basked in the joy of the family's feelings.

Harry couldn't sleep that night for the first time in his short life, his mind in so much turmoil about the coming days. Instead he spent the night in the garden running through his knife drills because he hadn't been able to do them at the Dursleys'. By the time that the Weasley matriarch woke up, he had already started breakfast for the house.

"Harry! What are you doing up so early?" she sounded a little groggy as he handed her a cup of tea.

"Couldn't sleep. I was too excited."

"Well, I had forgotten to mention it yesterday but why don't you give me your school list, dear. I'll pick up your things along with everyone else's today."

"That's very kind of you but-"

"Call me Molly dear."

"-Molly, but I have errands in Diagon that I need to attend to myself."

"Really now, what could be so important?"

Harry settled across from her, for once glad to be in his oldest and most tattered apparel. "Gringotts, for one, to settle some business and I was hoping to find some new clothes."

She took in his nearly opaque t-shirt with a frown. "When was the last time you bought something new?"

Harry gave her a wan smile. "The only clothes that have ever been bought for me was my school robes. I bought those myself."

The large woman bristled visibly, "Oh my! Those absolutely horrid Muggles!" she fumed, "Alright then. Give me your list and key and I will gather your school supplies. When the Cup is over, I will send you and Bill to take care of your errands. How's that?"

"More than I could ask for, though I have one condition for giving you my vault key."

"Yes?"

"Let me pay for everyone's dress robes."

"Oh Harry, I simply couldn't-"

"Your family," he talked over her objections, "has given me so much and accepted me with no hesitation. I feel safe here and that is a rare thing for me. I can't do much to repay you, and I don't think I ever will, for that feeling ,but I want to at least do this for you. I want your kids to enjoy whatever special event is happening this year." her eyes had gone a bit misty and Harry figured that she just needed one more push. "We can always call it an early Christmas gift. It is either that or I can spend ridiculous amounts of money on useless things for all of them."

She laughed softly, "Alright alright, but no Christmas gifts."

He held up a solemn hand, "I swear… if I remember."

She giggled, oddly enough, "Oh, Ginny is going to look so beautiful! I'll also get different colours for Fred and George."

"Your style, I'm sure, is impeccable Molly. Would you like some breakfast? I made crepes."

He woke up the boys when he went up to change, opting for the new muscle shirt and his smallest pair of jeans, which were four years old but still long enough in the legs. They were washed nearly white and torn at the knees but now that he had muscled up some, they were fairly snug. The twins whistled appreciatively while Ron tossed him a 'Ya look good mate.' There was a bit of griping about the early hour from the group of teens until they realized that the three oldest were going to miss out on Harry's crepes, with their homemade strawberry coulis and devonshire cream. Ron was still moaning over his last one as he ate while they walked. The group chatted easily, Harry escorting Ginny who was marveling at his apparent comfort in the cold English morning. He had borrowed and resized one of Bill's old jackets, made out of threadbare green denim. He also took the chance to quietly thank the younger girl for her gift, patting the unnoticed sheaths that rested against his thighs.

Stoatshead Hill nearly killed most of them climbing up, until Harry was practically carrying a wheezing Ginny. He sat her down on a dry rock and set off to find the elusive portkey until a jovial voice called out to them. It was then that Harry remembered exactly who they would be traveling with.

Amos Diggory looked years younger than what Harry had seen in the web, only he had been seeing the aftermath of the year to come, but Cedric looked just as he had seen before. Tall, handsome and well-built for a Seeker, Diggory fit well into the heartthrob image.

"Hi." Cedric greeted, walking up to them. He stumbled when he caught sight of Harry, a surprisingly bright blush flaring to life under wide grey eyes. The twins exchanged interested looks over identical evil grins. Harry was simply confused and the adults chatted on, oblivious.

"All these yours, Arthur?" Amos asked, turning to the batch of teens that were staring at his fidgeting son.

"Oh no, only the red heads." He pointed to each of the non-Weasleys. "This is Hermione, a friend of Ron's, and Harry, a family friend." Apparently the man had noticed the new distance between the fourteen year olds.

"Merlin's shaggy beard." Amos breathed, finally noticing his blushing son. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Harry took the opportunity to approach, giving the other Lord a slight bow. With Cedric, though, he repeated the same motions he had made with Bill, fingers brushing his forehead and clasping his right shoulder. Amos looked pleased when Cedric bowed over his hand, Harry's knuckles to his forehead.

"Why does he keep doing that?" Ron whispered loud enough for it to carry, "First Bill and now this bloke.?"

"You acknowledged Bill?" Arthur's pride was shining through.

"He's your Heir, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes he is." the redhead beamed, turning to his youngest son. "It's a sign of respect, Ron, for a Lord to greet an Heir of another Lord this way the first time. It means that they acknowledge your family and that they are open to alliances."

"Harry's a… a Lord?" Hermione asked, staring at the indifferent brunette.

"Since last year. " Amos spoke. "Lots happened last year, didn't it? Ced talked about you quite a bit." the man sent his son a sly smile, "mentioned he played against you last year. I said to him 'That will be something to tell the grandchildren one day…you beat Harry Potter!'"

Said Harry Potter saw the flash of humiliation that Cedric hid fairly quickly. He found himself in a pleasant mood so Harry decided to bail the blonde out. "I think you overestimate me, Lord Diggory, your son is an excellent flyer."

"But you fell," Cedric protested, "because of the-"

Harry shrugged, patting the blonde's bicep. "I wasn't prepared for them but now I am, so expect this year to be different." It was slow to show but Cedric's grin lit up his face.

"So you- "

"-approve of this bloke?" a twin appeared on either side of the Hufflepuff, looking him over critically.

"I do." Harry smirked, igniting another blush on the older boy.

"Welcome to the club then. " Fred brightened immediately.

"We'll get you a handbook." George promised, tossing an arm over his shoulder.

"O-okay." Harry sympathized with the blond's predicament but left them to rejoin Ginny and her father. Arthur called them all over to put a finger on the grubby boot, and Harry made a point of wrapping an arm around the younger girl. He gave her a 'trust me' smile and noticed that Fred mimicked his example with Hermione. When they slammed into the ground, he staggered only a few steps to catch her weight, while most everyone else went sprawling.

"Seven past Five from Staotshead Hill." An outrageously dressed wizard called out. Harry thought that the kilt rather suited the man. Arthur greeted the workers before herding them onwards, the two groups getting split up in the mist. Harry handled the payment of the camping site with a roll of pounds from Arthur's pocket. He managed to learn a bit of gossip before the man was summarily obliviated by another official. They traveled through the rows of flamboyant tents to an empty spot with the sign 'Weezly' stuck in the ground.

Harry made short work of one of the tents, with Ginny distracting Arthur and Hermione directing the twins with the second one. Once everything was settled, he quickly made his escape, letting Arthur know out of courtesy, while Ron and Hermione went to fetch some water.

He knew that he was subtly ignoring them, but they were not ready to approach him after the mess of last year and they could not understand the changes they were seeing in him. Not to mention, they were just not … drawn to him like the others were.

So he wandered and watched as the camp woke up. He found the children to be the most amusing, like the little wailing boy who had approached him with a broken toy soldier. Harry had popped its arm back into its socket, which it promptly saluted, and looked around to see a frantic woman searching the grounds. She blushed and stammered when she realized who her son had found but he bought her silence with an autograph.

Somewhere along the line, a discrete gossiper had leaked his presence to select people in the crowds and he was quietly approached as he walked about.

Most were visiting foreign wizards, folks who had heard of him and wanted to size up Britain's child saviour. Harry was sure that he had left them confused but a little impressed, knowing that they might be people he would have to interact with on a political level in the future.

For the Englishmen, he was approached but he was politely distant until he was sure that they were not simpering idiots that were only out to gawp at his scar. He realized, during his little walkabout, that he would have been seen as an awkward young teenager that was drowning in his own fame if he hadn't had instruction from the SaDiablo's.

Grandpa had kept his promise to teach him Protocol, sequestering them whole nights to start him on the basic, though half the things he had learned were things he had been practising unconsciously for years. Harry cherished those quiet talks beside a soft lit fire where he simply sat for hours and watched those refined features flicker in the firelight, the deep sensuous voice washing through him as he imparted centuries of knowledge to him.

Seeing the codes of honor that came from the very core such a great and ancient man, instilled Harry with a deep need to gain his approval. In secret, Harry had started to create a web that would allow Saetan to walk in the sunlight without weakening, but that would likely have to wait until the school year.

Daemon's teaching seemed to be the one he fell back on the most though, during his day-to-day dramas. Saetan was giving him a code of conduct that was showing him how to be a good man, while Daemon seemed to be showing him how to traverse the political dance he would be facing in the coming years.

The laws between the Realms were very different. He had provided the SaDiablos with some books on the history and laws of his world to satisfy their curiosity of his culture when he couldn't answer their questions himself, but the basics of politics were the same no matter where you went.

Daemon was trying to teach him how to command a room or disappear if he wanted to. Harry was picking up the manipulations fairly well, recognizing and using them to his advantage. He supposed that it was his Slytherin side shining through. The one thing that Daemon had found the hardest to convince him to use was how his looks could be a weapon.

Harry shuddered at the stories Daemon had shared of his long years as a sex slave and the tales of the Sadist. The man had originally been reluctant to tell him anything, but when Harry had found himself sharing some of his most painful memories with the Dursleys, the Consort had held him lightly and gently recounted his early years. Through it all, Harry could feel his respect and admiration for the man growing, awed at the strength the man must have needed to survive all those years, until a strange warmth had lodged itself in his chest. During the last few weeks, Harry had found himself sharing more and more with Daemon, from the snake tooth in his hand to the vague future battles ahead of him, and the older man had done the same, explaining about the past two decades and how he had finally found his freedom. After the first few days, the Warlord Prince had started to groom Harry in the ways of both seduction and death and how they were so often intertwined.

His one regret in meeting the SaDiablo's was that he had been unable to meet Jaenelle again, for she had sequestered herself away for an important project. That disappointment only grew when the majority of her Court's Inner Circle had disappeared nearly a week ago with no warning. It was supposedly an important political trip but they had taken Tersa with them so that was obviously a lie they had told to their staff. With Helene ruling the Keep, all Harry could do was visit with Lorn when not out playing with his other friends, even if Draca was suspiciously absent as well.

Refocusing on the world around him Harry noted that he had reached his destination, a medium sized pavilion tent done in navy blue with a stylized golden 'z' dangling off the gold trimmed eaves. It was fairly understated for a pureblood family of their stature but Harry highly approved of the Zabinis' taste. He tugged the cord on the plot stake, the bell attached making no sound, and stepped back to a polite distance to wait. He knew his friend might be wandering about like he was but he was sure that at least one of his parents would be in. He was proven correct when the tent flap was drawn aside.

"May I help you?" a husky female voice drew him away from his contemplation of the progressively more expensive tents that lined down the row.

"Lady," he bowed formally, making the word sound like the title he saw it as. "I inquire upon the presence of Blaise Zabini."

While she took in the contradicting image of the ragged clothing, striking looks and impeccable manners, he studied her intensely in a glance. Her skin was lighter than Blaise's, but they shared the same lush mouth and piercing blue eyes, though hers were more of a cold glacial blue compared to his crisp and clear sky blue. She was of average height with a full rounded figure that was encased in high fashioned muggle clothes that were fit for a business woman. The three inch heeled shoes gave her a bit more height but it was her unconsciously refined and proud stature that gave her a strong presence. Her face was shaped in a classic kind of beauty that was obviously shadowed in her son, with thick brown hair that was trimmed to her jawline and framing her face.

She stared at him with a cool expression, expertly masking her confusion and distaste. Harry kept his hands hidden, clasped behind his back so he erred on the side of caution. She acknowledged him but was unwilling to invite him inside the tent.

"He is in." she admitted reluctantly, "Do you have a message?"

The faintest hint of an amused smile graced his face. "If you would not mind, could you please inform him that 'Ri' has answered his summons?"

She nodded, sharp eyes narrowing before she disappeared inside once more. He knew that it was his clothes that were the problem, but it was not something that he could change just yet. So he resigned himself to waiting patiently as the seconds ticked by.

"Lord Potter." Blaise's tone was wry and Harry could hear the humor even when that handsome face was carefully impassive. His friend was as immaculate as ever in a pair of snug boot-cut blue jeans and a v-neck light grey t-shirt. His thick wavy hair tumbled loosely about his ears to tickle his neck, proving to Harry that his arrival must have awoken the larger male.

"I apologize for the early hour, but I couldn't be sure that there would be time to see you later." His smile slid slowly into a smirk as his friends eyes widened, giving Harry a once over. The green eyed teen allowed it, knowing that he had changed, "It is likely the only time I could slip the leash of my escorts."

"Please come in." Harry took the invitation, ignoring the steady gaze still pressing against his skin, "Still no ring?"

He glanced back once they were inside, "Before school but after the game. I have already written to the Goblins."

"You will have to greet me properly once it is settled."

"I promise you will be the very first." The Lady Zabini was watching them surreptitiously from an armchair settled near a comfortable fire. The room was a wide and open living room with an attached dining and kitchen area. It was done in rich tones of brown and cream with dashes of bronze and green and Harry found it very appealing. A hall to the side led off into what he assumed were the bedrooms and the water closet. He didn't have a chance to ask as he was abruptly enfolded in a pair of warm familiar arms.

"It is good to see you alright." Blaise breathed into his hair and Harry noted with irritation that the darker skinned boy had grown taller yet again.

"Draco sent a Portable Pantry so I had plenty of food." He admitted. The Slytherin only knew the barest hints of his home life but he knew the older teen suspected quite a lot.

The Italian drew back after a moment allowing Harry to turn and face him without being let go of, "What are you wearing? It is better than the usual fare but still…"

Harry sighed, "The pants are an old pair, as you can tell, but the shirt is new. A girl from my neighborhood gave it to me. It was nice of her but rather odd. The jacket I borrowed from Bill Weasley."

Blaise had a peculiar expression on his face that Harry couldn't place. "Who was the girl?"

"The girl? She was…" his mouth was opened to answer but he paused, thinking. "I… can't seem to remember. She was short and had approached with her two friends, but…" he frowned, trying to think back, "Hell's Fire, that is annoying."

The Slytherin's expression cleared to a sly smirk that only his parents recognized. Both of them were watching now and the arm around Harry's waist tightened slightly. "So you now have something old and new and something borrowed. You are missing something blue."

Harry snorted, thumping his friend on the chest. "This is so sudden. How am I supposed to respond to such a gushing proposal?" He wasn't expecting the Slytherin to swing him around with a laugh, but he did realize that he wasn't the only one getting stronger over the summer.

"You could always say yes."

The impish reply made him snicker. "I don't think your parents would approve." He laughed openly when Blaise released him quickly, finally remembering that they had an audience. The light blush that showed through dark skin didn't help to calm him down, and nearly set him off again when his friend shifted uncomfortably when he addressed his parents.

"Mother, Father. I would like you to meet my best friend, Lord Harrison Potter. "Harry inclined his head to the surprised duo with a smile, his hair shifting at an angle that would clear away from his scar.

Federico Zabini was not a heavy set man but he was large and very imposing. His skin was like dark chocolate that stretched over thick muscles, only hidden by a tailored grey suit. It was easy to see where Blaise got his broad shoulders from, shoulders that would likely grow broader still.

"Lord… Harry Potter." Elaina repeated dubiously.

Harry understood her hesitance, Blaise having said that his mother was an avid fashion follower. "I have only recently come into my title but have found myself in the care of Muggles who would attempt to extort my wealth if they had knowledge of it."

An interested gleam entered Lord Zabini's eyes. "Interesting outlook for a Gryffindor." his voice was an even tenor that was pleasant to listen to.

Blaise scoffed, "He's as much a Gryffindor as I am."

"Blaise." neither his voice or expression changed, but a definite note of warning laced the name and the two adults took notice.

"Apologies." his friend sobered a bit, regaining more of his usual composure at the reprimand. Harry understood his excitement, Quidditch lover that he was, but not to the point of carelessness. He accepted the apology with a slight smile that had the Slytherin silently preening.

He turned back to the Lord and Lady, "I have come to personally express my gratitude to you and your son for the gifts I received this summer. All three are beautiful creatures."

"Have you named them as of yet?" Federico asked slyly, Harry assumed to gauge the depth of his pride and knowledge.

"Not yet. I am waiting to visit them personally."

"All of them?" Elaina asked archly.

"Yes. I am sure that the Nundu has a name that it prefers, so I intend to find it out."

Federico scoffed, much like his son, "A Nundu will not just let anyone approach it. Handlers rarely survive past three years, if that. Do you think yourself so different?"

"He is, Father. All animals adore him." Blaise answered for him.

"I am sure that he has a good hand with the more docile creatures but-"

"No. All animals love him. No matter the breed." The absolute certainty in his words left his father nothing to refute. Federico moved them onto another topic, his wife following his lead.

"Are you attending the Cup alone?"

"No. I am enjoying the event with the Weasleys." Their instant looks of distaste had him tensing. The Weasleys were his allies and he would not allow them to be looked down upon.

The room chilled as his expression hardened and his voice echoed with a devious gentleness. "Arthur Weasley sacrificed his chances at wealth and prestige to uphold his integrity and the honor of an ally. His children consist of the world's most renowned Curse Breaker, the foremost Dragon handler of the largest reserve in the world, a recent graduate who knows every law the ministry has ever thought up and twins who might very well be the greatest magical inventors in the last three hundred years. His youngest son has one of the greatest strategic minds ever seen in Hogwarts and his only daughter is already up to sixth year knowledge in charms and curses though she is only a third year."

All three Zabini's were staring at him in shock. "Every pureblood refuses to acknowledge them because they were labeled as blood traitors by the same families that stole their ancestors' wealth and land. I find blind prejudice useless and debasing." He turned to Blaise, completely dismissing the adults, "I'll see you on the train."

The flaps of the door blew out as he strode from the tent. They only began to shiver when the heat of the summer flooded back into the room. Elaina turned to her frowning son, "Blaise, explain."

"You two insulted a family that he has taken under his protection." he answered, suddenly sad, He knew Harry had initially liked his parents, having seen it when he had looked at them, but then they just had to go and let their prejudices rule them. His long talks with them had apparently done nothing to sway them from their old way of thinking.

"No," said his father, "explain why his anger makes me feel devastated."

This he understood all too clearly. "Because, more than anything, under his protection is exactly where you want to be. Your jealousy of how the Weasleys, of whom you have little respect for, have found their place in his life so you pushed him away."

"Is… can we fix this?" Elaina turned to her son. "I didn't understand at first but he's…"

"That is not just a type of natural charisma, is it?" Federico whispered, almost afraid.

"No, it is something much more beautiful and seductive than that." Blaise had to focus to keep from getting lost in the memories of when he had briefly felt that deep well of magic in his friend. "I do know that a few days after the cup he is going to have to go shopping for some clothes both in magical and muggle London. He has never gone shopping before so I am sure he could use some help."

"Never?" His mother was clearly appalled.

"Never," he confirmed with a grin.

"I can salvage this then. Be a dear, Blaise, and find out where the Weasleys are camped out and I will pay them a visit before the game tonight."

The two men exchanged an amused looks as she strode off, already creating lists of what shops to visit.

Harry's anger dissipated almost as soon as he exited the tent and instead had left behind an empty and aching disappointment. He would have to make a point to apologize to Blaise at a later time.

Feeling a little depressed, he decided to take his time in returning to the campsite and took to wandering about the camp grounds. He greeted a good number of people and often found himself mediating a few arguments between the event officials and obtuse wizards. At one point he had to bypass a couple arguing with a harried officer in front of a pair of wide eyed children. Apparently, the kids had been flying around on training brooms in full sight of the Muggle site managers. Ignoring the bickering Harry had drawn the young'uns aside and quietly explained to them why they couldn't play with magical toys in Muggle areas, using judicious flashes of his scar to convince them. He eventually got their promise to behave and watched them pick up the toys that were scattered about, leaving with a nod to the gaping adults. The event official, one Albert Mugwort, had tracked him down a number of times after that to smooth over some of the more obstinate problems they were faced with.

When he finally returned to the Weasley campsite, it was a good few hours later, having caught up with Seamus and his Irish brood, a harried Oliver Wood and a couple other Hogwarts students. What he found awaiting him was a bright black and yellow figure that was trying to cajole money out of the group of Weasleys that had grown by three.

"Ah!" Arthur caught sight of him. There was a slight glint of desperation in his eye. "And here is Harry Potter! Was starting to get worried, lad. You took your time."

"Sorry Mr. Weasley, I got caught up." He slipped passed, shucking his jacket onto a free seat. He tossed a bundle of tinder sticks that he had picked up along the way towards Charlie, saving one to go into the sputtering fire. The dragon tamer, who had been struggling to get the fire going the muggle way, shot him a grateful look when it flared to life.

"Mr. Bagman is taking bets on the game. What do you think, Harry? Should I take it?"

"I don't think you should ever make a bet unless it is through a broker you trusted. Otherwise how would you know where your money was going, win or lose?" he answered absently, rummaging through his pack for some of his gold. Off to the side the twins looked crestfallen, squirrelling their savings away at his warning.

"Come now lad, it's all in the spirit of the game. Surely you have some thoughts on who would win?"

Harry glanced at the wheedling Department Head, eyes narrowed upon the oblivious figure. His answer was slow and tinted with condescension, more than a few of the Weasley's tensing when they caught his tone. There was a slight curve to his lips that made the males that knew him shudder. "I suppose I could make a small bet. Twenty to one odds that Ireland wins the cup by ten points but Bulgaria will catch the snitch. If I win, however, the funds will be taken directly from your Gringotts vaults."

The scribbling quill faltered as mousey brown eyes snapped to cold and knowing jade. "A-a-and the bet?"

Harry jingled his money pouch, "One hundred and fifty galleons." He was satisfied to see Bagman pale dramatically.

"That's rather steep for a bit of fun, isn't it?" He scratched out Harry's bet frantically.

"I don't believe that I have ever been one to do things by halves." He put his money away with a smirk. "Thank you for the tickets, Mr. Bagman, would you like a cup of tea?" the man accepted the offer and dropped the subject of betting altogether.

The adults chatted while Ron bragged to his older brothers about the breakfast the three oldest had missed. That earned him a headlock from Bill while Charlie tried to sweet talk Harry into cooking another breakfast sometime that week. It was all rather cheerful until Barty Crouch Sr. popped up. Percy immediately started to gush and fawn over the man, rushing about to prepare him tea. Most of them ignored the man until he absently called Percy, Weatherby. Harry could actually see red headed hackles rising around him, more so from the twins.

"Excuse me, Mr. Crouch," he interrupted some drivel that the man was saying, "but his family name is Weasley."

The stiff man frowned over his toothbrush mustache. "I beg your pardon?"

"The young man who is currently making your tea, who also works for you incidentally, is named Percy Weasley not Weatherby." he kept his words mild and factual, a contrast to the twins' thunderous expressions. "I would think that a person of such high standing in the Ministry would make a point of knowing the subordinates that handle all sorts of important paperwork from your office. Most especially when they are the sons of your colleagues."

Two points of colour rose on wrinkled cheeks as the man spotted the obvious familial resemblance when a frowning Percy handed him his tea. He awkwardly cleared his throat, "Ah, yes. My mistake, Mr…"

Arthur made to answer but he was interrupted by Mugwort popping up.

"Lord Potter!" He cried breathlessly and Crouch's eyes widened. "We have another crawler."

He was on his feet, jacket in hand, in an instant. "How long?"

"Twelve minutes."

"Take me to the parents."

"Yes sir." he looked ridiculously relieved but Arthur forestalled their departure.

"Harry?"

Knowing that time was short, his answer was clipped. "Children wander off quite often while parents can't use magic to find them, so the rules say. I seem to have a talent of finding them." He said nothing of how he had flooded most of the camp grounds with the lightest amount of power he could and how he could pick up the pure innocence that only a child could carry.

"Is this why you were late in returning?" Harry would almost say that the man looked proud.

"One of the reasons." He confirmed, unsure of how to take that look from the man. "I'll be back soon."

"The parents are Bulgarian." Mugwort warned.

"Do you know a translation charm?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." They popped away, leaving behind a mildly stunned group.

"I… was wondering who had been assisting the Regulations officials all morning. He has been the talk of the crowds all morning." Mr. Crouch mused, sipping at his tea. "Lord Potter you say?"

"The Protective Heir Act." Percy assumed. "He fits the criteria."

"I see." It took a moment but he seemed to shake himself before turning back to Bagman. "As I was saying, I have been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians-"

Hours passed and Harry returned once or twice for short periods before he was pulled away again for one reason or another. He did stop long enough for Charlie to cast a linguistics charm that would help him assimilate any new language for the next two days. It was how the older male had picked up Romanian so quickly. At the end of the afternoon, as the natural light dimmed, a salesman without a cart apparated in, a sack over his shoulder.

"Is this the Weasley lot?" He called out in his slick sales voice. Ginny nodded, sitting between Bill and Hermione.

"These are for you then. Courtesy of , an apology for being away, he says." He dropped the sack by the fire while Hermione called the others out from the tents. He rifled about until he pulled out nine smaller bags with each of their names stitched onto the fabric. They were passed out quickly enough," said you can't refuse to take them 'cause they were mostly gifts ta him anyways. It's true too. He saved me cart from a blighter who near burned it up. Enjoy the cup!" Off he popped, letting them open the sacks full of paraphernalia in peace. Inadvertently making them unable to refuse the bags.

"Wicked!" Fred crowed, pulling out an overlarge, floppy top hat that was done in green and white stripes, the rim bursting with shamrocks. George pulled out the same hat, though the stripes were in opposite colours and the rim was tumbling with leprechaun gold. There were flags and scarves, face paint and rosettes and more odds and ends. Each sack had a different arrangement of items as well as a shiny set of brass omniculars.

"Bloody hell!" Ron pulled out his pair, testing it out, "This must have cost a fortune!"

"Language, Ronald." Arthur admonished, "Though I doubt that this cost very much at all. With all the help he has been giving around the camp, I would imagine he was given these souvenirs in payment. I'm not surprised he decided to share." he mused jovially, waving a flag overhead that played the Irish national anthem whenever it moved, his balding head sporting a bowler hat with a single gigantic shamrock sprouting from the ribbon.

He smiled when he noted the pride of his youngest son eased from the corner of his eye. He did find it curious that none of his other children had an issue accepting even this small charity from Harry. He would let it go for now and simply watch where this exciting new development lead to.

"Oh look!" Hermione gasped in delight, "Programs!" The merchandise discovery continued.

Chapter 6 ...DONE! Thank you so much for waiting so long for an update. Also mucho thanks to my beta and the wonderful work they do on my stories, they would make a lot less sense without them.