Harry was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, his back against the wall and staring out the open window of his room. It was night and he was thinking about Hedwig, his owl, wondering where she was right now. Probably flying and looking for mice. He wished he was flying. He would dearly love to mount his Firebolt, and just take off. It didn't matter where. Anything to feel different than he had the past several weeks. "Cedric, I'm so sorry," he said out loud. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, "Why didn't I take the cup when he offered it to me? God, he would still be alive!" He clenched his hands and then the pain. He looked down in surprise, he had almost forgotten. He looked at his hands in disgust, "Stupid thing to do" he muttered. They were all bandaged up.

            Aunt Petunia had not been happy with him, having to help him put ointment on his bleeding hands and bandage them up. He remembered looking at her while she went to work on his hands, as she rattled on. "What on earth were you thinking of, obviously you weren't thinking at all. As usual. Couldn't think to put on some gloves. Honestly the trouble you put me through. Put all of us through. Ought to be more grateful. Us, having taken you in." Harry didn't really listen, it wasn't as if he hadn't heard similar things from his Aunt, or his Uncle, during his life with them. He was looking at her when it just, came out. Just a question, a simple question really. "Did you really hate my mum?"

            Petunia had stopped wrapping his last hand and looked at him in shock. It was unusual for her to be completely without something to say. She looked about the kitchen as if there was something she should be doing and then back to Harry. She did this one more time before regaining her composure and finished wrapping Harry's hand. Without looking at him she said, "That's not a polite question to ask. Go to your room and try not to cause me anymore trouble." As Harry left, Petunia turned and looked across the living room of her house, not at anything in the room but more as if she were looking across a vast distance, maybe another place, maybe another time.

            Harry was thinking, even now, sitting on his bed and glancing at Hedwig’s empty perch, that it had been a fair question and wondered why he had never asked it before. He didn't ask whether his aunt hated him. He thought that he might know the answer to that one.

            Ever since he had gotten back for the summer to stay with his aunt, uncle and cousin Dudley, he had felt driven. He knew he had some summer homework but he had no desire to work on it, which would mean he would have to think, and he didn't want to think. He didn't want to think about anything. In the past he had always been told to do things in the Dursley household. Not that he had ever been given much of a chance to offer, but this summer things were different. This time he wasn't waiting to be told what to do, he was asking to do more, anything. Clean the house, cut the grass, clean out the garage, wash the car, paint the house. Painting the house had taken a full week and a half. It had been hard work, good work. It kept his mind from thinking of other things. His aunt and uncle probably figured he was attempting to get on their good side for something he wanted. He wasn't sure he cared what they thought. It didn't matter anyway. All he had to do was drop a comment about his Godfather, the escaped, convicted murderer, and they would be off his back.

            Harry had only received one letter from Sirius since the end of the school year. Harry could read the concern in the letter Sirius had wrote, but Harry had sent a rather short reply stating that he was fine. He wished that he could talk to his Godfather face to face. There was just no way to put into a letter how he felt, the dreams of his parents and Cedric. But, it was far too dangerous as Sirius was still wanted by the Ministry of Magic, for a crime he didn't commit. Even Ron and Hermione had sent letters expressing pretty much the same concern as Sirius. Ron's had come by his personal owl named Pig, and had signed 'Your Best Friend, Ron'. Hermione's had come by post and she had signed 'Love, Hermione'. He had replied pretty much with the same short response to their letters as he had to Sirius. He had signed Hermione's 'Love, Harry' but changed it and signed 'Your best friend, Harry', the same as Ron's.

            Today though, had been the clincher. He had almost exhausted all the things he could do around the house. He had finally offered to dig out the old stump in the back yard. Uncle Vernon seemed surprised he had offered and skeptical that he could do it. The stump had been there for years and the reason was that uncle Vernon didn't want to shell out a hundred pounds or so to have a contractor remove it. Harry had gotten a shovel and an axe out of the garage early in the morning. Harry thought uncle Vernon could be right. It might be more than he could handle, but Harry didn't care. The stump had become the focus of all his frustrations. He dug and chopped the day away late into the afternoon. It was hot, sweaty, dirty work. With only one root left directly underneath, holding it in, he was pulling and lifting for all he was worth. Harry pictured Voldemort's hideous face in his mind wanting to rip him apart with his bare hands and started thinking of all the things that had happened in his life because of him.

            When Harry was one year old Voldemort killed both his parents and then tried to kill Harry. Had it not been for his mother sacrificing her own life for Harry's, Voldemort would have succeeded. Voldemort tried three more times after Harry had gone to Hogwarts. In his first year at Hogwarts Harry was nearly done in as he prevented Voldemort from stealing the Philosophers' Stone. In his second year Voldemort's old diary nearly led to his own death as well as that of his best friend's sister. In his forth year Voldemort had managed to regain his old body and had almost killed him once more. And would have if not for the luck of their wands being 'brother wands'. On top of all this, he ordered Cedric, a fellow classmate, killed in front of him.

           All his pain, all his concentration, his strength of will, he was bearing down when with a loud snap, the stump shot several feet up and out of the hole. Harry was surprised, but happy, feeling a satisfaction he hadn't felt in awhile. Harry quickly filled the hole in and started dragging the stump from the back yard around to the front.

            Dudley had been watching Harry work on his project off and on all day with abject interest, but upon seeing Harry's success and dragging the stump. "Like a hand Harry?"

            "Er, sure", said Harry, thinking this was rather nice of Dudley.

            They both dragged the stump around by the front drive to be hauled off later, when Dudley said "Harry, look at your hands!"

            Harry looked down. His hands were bloodied and blistered.

            Vernon's voice could be heard in the back yard as he swore. He came around holding the axe and shovel like they were something nasty. "Get these tools cleaned up, boy" he said gruffly tossing them toward Harry. Vernon noticed Dudley was looking at Harry's hands. In a more even tone "When you get that done, get yourself cleaned up, and have your aunt Petunia look at those hands".

            As Harry was walking away he heard Dudley say, "Dad, I helped get the stump out."

            "So you did. So you did. Good work son. Here's a fiver," said Vernon.

            Harry kept on walking. 'Some things never change' he thought to himself.

            That had been his day and the only good thing that had happed to him in awhile was seeing that stump pop out of the ground. No, that wasn't right. The nicest thing that had happened since the Triwizard Tournament was Hermione kissing him on the cheek at the train station, before going home with uncle Vernon. 'Hermione'. The thought of her name made him feel better. He looked out the window again. It was a nice warm summer night with a slight breeze. He wasn't sure what to think about a small feeling that stirred within him. Hermione was as dear a friend to him as Ron or Hagrid, not to mention his Godfather Sirius, yet . . . he shook his head. Finally, the exhaustion of the day came over him and it was welcome. He figured he could get a good night's sleep for a change. He had after all, defeated that stump, wishing it had been Voldemort.

            Next morning Harry was awakened by Hedwig landing on his bed. Sleepily he put out a finger and Hedwig affectionately nipped back. "Ow! Hedwig!.... Oh, it's not your fault. I er, hurt my hands yesterday." Harry noticed something was tied to Hedwig's leg. Harry quickly reached for his glasses. Hedwig had two letters. He pulled off his bandages and his hands looked much better, but still sore, and gingerly opened Ron's letter first.

Harry,

Took the liberty of borrowing Hedwig she has been delivering mail between me and Hermione. That's why she's been gone several days. We've been working out a way to get you to the Burrow and spend a couple of weeks. That way you can spend your birthday here. Maybe you could spend the rest of the summer. Hermione says she can pick you up this Sunday if all works out. Hedwig should have Hermione's letter too, with the details.

Your Best Friend,

Ron

'Yeah, that sounded great!' He quickly opened Hermione's letter.

Harry,

Hope this letter finds you well. Ron has extended you an invitation to stay at the Burrow. He told me about the last time he and his family came to get you by Floo. Sounds like it was a disaster. My parents and I can pick you up Sunday, by car. You can then go to Ron's from our house. Let me know as soon as you can, by Hedwig or phone.

Love,

Hermione

'How am I going to get to Ron's house, from Hermione's?' It didn't matter. He was sure Hermione had it all worked out. He figured he would ask about going to Ron's at breakfast.

Before Harry got downstairs he could here his uncle Vernon blustering, "Got a large order from John Dashel two weeks ago and then he calls up yesterday and cancels. Now I've got stock laying around, all those drill bits are nothing but dead weight. It's cost me money, it has. I tell you, I don't think he ever intended to make good on that order. He as much as lied to me. Probably in cahoots with one of my competitors." Vernon swore, and said "I surely wish I could tell when someone was lying to me."

"Dear, I'm sorry it upsets you so much. You told me all about it last night before bed." As Harry came into the kitchen Petunia said in her usual sternness toward Harry, "It's about time you got up. Let's see those hands." Harry turned his hands up. "Better than yesterday. Now go pour Vernon some more coffee."

As Harry poured coffee, "I was wondering if I could spend the next two weeks at the Weasley's, starting Sunday?"

As Harry expected, this started things.

            Dudley suddenly put his hands over his mouth, and then over his large rear end. He went sporadically back and forth finally settling for one hand over his mouth and the other on his rear. He was undoubtedly remembering the Ton-Tongue Toffee candy the twins had baited him with that made his tongue grow over a foot long and the time Hagrid had given him a pig's tail.

            Vernon spouted, "Balderdash! Those people are not coming into this house!" Petunia chimed in, "After what happened to Dudley they are most certainly not welcome here." Talking almost at the same time and carrying on with a few other things and about how he would not be seen taking Harry anywhere near where such people lived before Vernon ended it with "So, just how do you expect to get to the Weasels?"

"Er, that's Weasley's. And, um, the Granger's would pick me up." Quickly adding, "By car."

"I'll not tolerate strange looking people coming up to this house" Vernon stated flatly. "Nor through the fireplace!"

"The Granger's are dentists. You know, regular dentists. Their daughter, Hermione is in the same House, er, class. And then I would go to the Weasley's from their house. So it wouldn't look strange or anything."

"Let me see that I understand this," said Vernon breathing heavily after his outburst. "The Granger's are dentists, and their daughter is a, uh, the strange one." Harry nodded, but didn't like Hermione being called strange. "Well, they've got my sympathy. Just two weeks? Aunt Marge is coming to stay a week in August. It would be a shame if you were around, especially after what happened the last time she was here."

Harry remembered. At the time it was quite grim. Aunt Marge — more correctly, was Dudley's aunt since Marge was Vernon's sister — Harry had some how blown her up like a big balloon floating over the dining room table. The things she had said about his parents had made him so angry. The ministry of magic had smoothed the whole thing over with the Dursley's. It was almost funny now. Well, almost. "Certainly, I could spend the rest of the summer at the Weasley's or the Granger's." The last thing he said, about staying at the Granger's, he wasn't sure how he felt that might work out. He knew he was most welcome at the Weasley's. Maybe it was just the desperation of staying away from aunt Marge. "I'll just call the Granger's, by phone, and let them know."

Harry called Hermione's number and a woman's voice answered, "Granger's, this is Katherine"

"Oh, ah, hello Mrs. Granger this is Harry, Harry Potter. And I was calling to say that it would be all right to pick me up on Sunday."

"Harry, so glad you called. David and Hermione can pick you up at ten o'clock on Sunday. If the time works?"

"Sure, that's fine"

"Good, I'm looking forward to meeting you. That's number four, Privet Drive, correct?"

"Yes, that's right"

"We'll see you Sunday then. Bye"

"Bye, Mrs. Granger."

            Harry went back to the dining room. "All set, ten o'clock Sunday"

            Vernon gave an affirmative grunt in response. "By the way we're taking Dudley to get some new clothes on Saturday. Reward for losing twenty pounds this summer." Harry was incredulous. If Dudley had lost twenty pounds, what did he look like before the summer? "If you would like to come along, Petunia thought we might buy you a shirt or something since you've done a little work around the house this summer."

            'What?' Harry always got Dudley's hand me downs, but Dudley had gotten so large that anything Harry got fit rather loose indeed. As for buying him something. Well, he probably saved Vernon over a hundred pounds getting that stump out, not to mention painting the house. But, they might want a say in what they got him, and he was well aware of the Dursley's tastes. "If it's all right, I could buy my own."

            They all looked at him in surprise. Vernon piped up, "Where would you get any money?"

            "It's what I've been buying my school supplies with for the past four years."

            "We thought your school had some sort of charity program, or that overgrown hairy excuse for a human being was giving you money. He thought so much of your parents and all," said Vernon sarcastically and laced with suspicion. All three of the Dursleys were looking a little unnerved.

            Hmmm, 'Hairy and overgrown' must be referring to Hagrid which was sort of true, but the 'excuse for a human being' was stretching thin. In Harry's mind Hagrid was more human than the Dursleys. He made a mental note to send Hagrid an owl, but he wasn't sure whether Hagrid could send one back. He and Madame Olympe had left on a secretive trip for Dumbledore over the summer and he wondered if Hagrid would make it back for the school year to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

            "All I would need is to be dropped off on the street in front of the Leaky . . ., I can show you where. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes."

            Saturday morning came and the Dursley's parked and let Harry disappear down the walk, quite literally to the Dursley's perspective. One second he was there and the next, he was gone. No one else on the sidewalk seemed to notice. Quickly through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. Tom, the bartender of the Leaky Cauldron barely had chance to say hello before he was gone. Straight to Gringotts, to his vault and back. He got part of his wizard money changed to muggle money. The Goblin changing his money seemed suspicious but Goblins were always suspicious. He knew twenty minutes didn't give him much time but didn't want to try his aunt and uncle's patience. Just before he was about to exit Diagon Alley he heard a raspy old voice on a side street.

            "Yes, it's a discerning pen, looks just like a muggle fountain pen. Can tell when someone 's lying, it can."

            Harry stopped and looked. Some wizard was selling charmed muggle items, probably illegal. The old codger looked as though he would rather feel how much was in your money bag as look at you. His potential customer shook his head no, and walked away. Harry didn't really have time, still.

            Walking up to the merchant, Harry asked, "How does it work?" The fella eyed Harry like a tasty morsel.

            "Here ya ar', m' young wizard. Take 'is 'ere piece of parchment an' ta pen. Na' say somethin' that ya know ta be true while ya write or scrawl.

            Harry spelled out the words as he said them, "I like to play Quidditch". Nice rich black ink came out, but nothing unusual.

            "Na' say somethin' ya know to be a lie," said the merchant.

            Harry stroked some lines as he said, "My name is Mary Poppins". The ink was turning red as it came out of the pen. "Interesting," said Harry.

            "A' two Galleons i' wo' b' robbery on yer part"

            "So, two Galleons is a fair price?" looking him in the eye but still moving the pen.

            "Withow a doubt" said the merchant with a slight grin.

            "Would fifteen Sickles be a fairer price?" asked Harry again looking down where he was scribbling.

            "Wha'!" losing his grin and suddenly realizing what Harry was doing.

            "Fifteen sickles it is," said Harry with a little triumph, and handed the wizard his money. The old codger quickly took the money with disgust.

            Now he was most certainly late and rushed through the Leaky Cauldron, " 'lo Tom," as he went by. Tom just waved.

            Back at the car, "You're late" grunted Vernon.

            "Sorry," said Harry.

            "Harry, do you have a lot of money?" asked Dudley. Evidently it was the question that was on all their minds because Petunia and Vernon were looking at him as well.

            "Only a little" said Harry grimacing. He didn't think it quite the thing to do. To tell them he had more wizarding money in his vault than he could count in several days. But his response seemed to satisfy his aunt and uncle who could hardly believe he had anything at all.

            Shopping went well. He got some decent clothes for a change. He was really looking forward to seeing Hermione and Ron on Sunday.

            That evening Harry waited until Petunia and Dudley had gone to bed and uncle Vernon was in the living room reading his business magazine. "Say uncle Vernon I bought you a pen," and handed the pen to him.

            "A fountain pen? A ballpoint or felt tip would be more useful and it looks a little used."

            Harry handed him a pad, "Give it a try, it writes better than it looks." Vernon started putting down some lines and circles. It did write rather well. "It's called a discerning pen. Now, if someone were to tell you a lie. For example, 'My name is Mary Poppins'. The color changes to red."

            Vernon looked at the ink coming out of the pen as it changed from black to red at Harry's lie. Then he froze, looked at the pen, then at Harry. The color drained from his face and looked at the pen as though it were a poisonous snake. He dropped it on the floor in front of him and tried to scoot his oversized body back into the normal sized chair. "Good God, boy! Get that thing away from me. And of all things, you handed it to me! You know I will not tolerate anything to do with that sort of stuff, your sort of stuff. What on earth do you think you're doing?"

            Harry ignored his uncle's outburst. It was what he expected. He knew his uncle detested anything to do with magic. He couldn't even bring himself to say the word magic. It was bad enough for him that Harry had to be under his roof for part of the summer, Harry being a wizard. Nonchalantly Harry walked over and picked up the pen off the floor. "Oh well, I thought maybe you'd like to know when someone was lying to you. Might've saved you from another bogus order, you know, all that money tied up in stock that isn't moving." Harry was walking away while saying all this.

            "Ah, Ah, Harry. Wait just a minute." Harry turned barely managing to keep a straight face as Vernon was having a struggle of monumental proportions going on in his head. His left eyebrow was twitching as his large mustache was puffed out more than usual. And with the look on his face you'd have thought he was trying to pass a kidney stone.

            "Is everything all right Vernon, dear?" Aunt Petunia and Dudley were on the stairs. They evidently heard uncle Vernon's outburst and were wondering what Harry had done now. In fact, Dudley was sitting on some steps, his plump and pudgy face was looking through a couple spindles of the banister hoping this was true.

            Vernon was regaining his composure, "Nothing, nothing, just stubbed my toe against the chair." He reached down and rubbed a foot.

            "Do be careful, and come to bed. It's getting late." Petunia and a disappointed Dudley went back upstairs.

            Vernon watched and listened. He waited until they were both upstairs and out of earshot before he continued. But looked at the curtain drawn windows and said in a voice as though he were afraid a neighbor might have their ear against the screen "You say it can tell if someone is lying?" Then, as though he were in great pain, he said through gritted teeth "Bring it here, let's have another look at it." Uncle Vernon reached out and took the pen as if it would certainly do him in at the slightest touch. He timidly started scratching on the pad again. "My name is Vernon Dursley. I hate to make money." He paused and then said with a little more confidence, "John Dashel is a scoundrel. I like losing money," Vernon gave a small chuckle. He looked up at Harry with a very grave look and spoke each word distinctly, "You won't tell anyone about this pen. That it's mm . . mm . .". He couldn't bring himself to say the word 'magic'. "That it's unusual. Right?"

            "No sir, I will not"

            "Wait a sec, say that again" as he started scribbling.

            "I swear I will not say there is anything unusual about that pen"

            Vernon looked down at the pad and grunted, satisfied, that the ink was black. Harry headed upstairs, back to his room, he could hear Vernon behind him stating something truthful followed by making up a lie and then chuckling as he scribbled on his pad. "Your welcome" Harry said softly.

            Early Sunday morning, Harry was packed and ready to go. "Hedwig, you can fly on ahead to Hermione's. I know you don't like being in a cage if you don't have to be. I'll see you there." Out the window she went. Now all he had to do was go down for breakfast and then, wait. Breakfast was the usual grapefruit, as Dudley was still on a diet. It was all Harry could do to keep from bursting out in laughter when Vernon asked Dudley if he was sticking to his diet while scribbling on a pad. The look of shock on Vernon's face when he realized that his perfect boy was outright lying to his face was worth the expense for the discerning pen.

            Ten minutes to ten a car pulls into the drive, a little nicer than uncle Vernon's. Vernon noticed this too as he held back the curtain to look. "Hmm, Mercedes-Benz, Limousine model. Thought of buying one meself." Vernon Dursley tended to judge people by the car they drove.

            Though not a good way to judge people, Harry was still glad the Grangers had made a good first impression on uncle Vernon. Like a shot Harry was out the door dragging his trunk and carrying Hedwig's empty cage. As Mr. Granger got out of the car and approached. Harry noticed he was tall, slim of build, wore glasses in front of brown eyes and had very curly brown hair tinged with a little gray. It was easy to see that Hermione got her eyes and hair from her dad. Harry stopped, putting his trunk on end, as Mr. Granger held out a hand and a smile to him.

            "Harry. There's no mistaking you from Hermione's description. Though I think we've almost met a couple of times in Diagon Alley. Good to meet you properly," as he shook Harry's hand, he briefly glanced at Harry's forehead before looking past him. "And I presume this is your uncle and aunt?"

            Harry turned around to see that uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia had actually come out the door. Part of the reason he had gone out the door so quickly was that he was afraid the Dursley's might be rude so he was trying to make a quick exit. But they were pleasant enough as even Dudley ventured out and stood behind his parents. Hermione stood beside her dad and smiled broadly when Harry saw her and he smiled back just as big. Harry made introductions as Mr. Granger shook hands with Vernon and Petunia, and nodded to Dudley, as Dudley refused to move out from behind his mom and dad. When Harry introduced Hermione the Dursley's only stared.

            Hermione seemed to be prepared for the reaction, "Dad, I'll help Harry put his trunk in the car."

            Vernon, Petunia and Mr. Granger exchanged, short, but civil pleasantries while Dudley was craning a look at Hermione. Hermione opened the back of the car and helped Harry load in his trunk. As they were ready to leave, Hermione motioned Harry to sit in the back seat with her. Pulling out of the drive Harry waved goodbye to his aunt and uncle, they half heartedly waved in return, while Dudley was still leaning around from behind, just looking.

            "Thanks for picking me up Mr. Granger, hope it wasn't much trouble."

            "No trouble at all Harry. And you can call me David" as he drove down the highway.

            "So that was your cousin behind your aunt and uncle?" asked Hermione. "Looked as though both of them were not quite enough to hide him. He is just a little on the large size isn't he?" They both snickered.

            Harry was looking at her now, lightly dressed for the warm weather and with a rich tan. "Why are you looking at me like that Harry?" she said smiling.

            "I was just thinking you look good with a tan."

            "You too — and you look sharp — new clothes?" and then she reached out and took his hands. "Harry, what have you done to your hands?" She had concern in her eyes looking him over. "You don't look like you've been eating well either."

            "They're a lot better now. I dug up a stump in the back yard. And the Dursley's are still on a diet plan for Dudley. Not very appetizing meals. Besides I haven't been very hungry since . . .," Harry let the rest trail off.

            Hermione's eyes watered slightly as the urge to embrace him welled up. She wanted so much to help take away the pain her friend must still be feeling. She remembered what Professor Dumbledore had told her and Ron shortly before leaving Hogwarts for the summer.

            "I would like you both to know Harry may need a friend, or friends," as he looked to each of them. "Harry has been through a horrific ordeal and is likely taking the death of Cedric rather hard. Be patient. It would be kind of you both, if you were there for him, when he's ready."

            Hermione gave Harry's hands a gentle but light squeeze and glanced at the rear view mirror, she took her hands away changing the subject for him. She talked of her summer, Crookshanks, her muggle friends, and that she was disappointed her summer homework was all done, but that she was working on a project of her own.

            Ohmygosh! Summer homework. Harry hadn't done any.

            The look of panic on Harry's face was not lost on Hermione. "Uh oh, looks like someone is behind again," she teased. "I have an idea. You can delay going to Ron's for a few days and I can help you get your homework done. Dad, could Harry stay with us a few days while I help him get caught up on summer homework?"

            "Sure, pumpkin. Harry can stay in the guest room."

            'Pumpkin? Must be her dad's pet name for Hermione. Kind of cute', Harry thought. "By the way, how am I getting to Ron's from your house?"

            "You'll see," she said grinning.

            The granger house had a Cotswold Cottage look with a stone front. It seemed as though almost every house on block had a tall old oak tree in their yard next to the sidewalk and street. It was all very green and welcoming.

            "Dad, I can help Harry take his trunk up to the guest bedroom. I want to show him the house."

            "Oh, okay pumpkin. Your mother and I will be in the kitchen," said her father as he winked at her and she grinned back.

            After helping Harry get his trunk up stairs and down the hallway to the guest bedroom Hermione started showing Harry the house. And seemed to be taking great delight in doing so. "We've got four bedrooms. Far more than we need with mum, dad and myself. Mum and dad's is the master bedroom and they have their own bathroom... The main bathroom is here at the top of the stairs. We'll share while you stay. I usually have it all to myself... This bedroom we use mainly for storage. Stuff we don't know what to do with. You know, things you don't want to throw away but don't know where to put."

            She took him back down to the end of the hall to the bedroom across from the guest bedroom. "This is my room."

            Somehow it struck Harry that it looked just like he thought a girl's room would look. Pastel colors on a fluffy bed cover and lace curtains, picture of her family on a dresser. There were books laying around here and there, all Muggle books. Harry remembered that Hermione liked to keep in step with Muggle studies. He wondered how on earth she managed. He had a hard enough time with wizarding studies. Harry noticed an open wicker basket with a small pillow at the foot of the bed, but Crookshanks was curled up comfortably on the bed.

            Upon seeing Hermione Crookshanks got up on all fours and stretched, the front legs and then the back. He looked up at Hermione and purred.

            "Hello Crookshanks," Hermione said with affection as she reached out and petted him, "look who's come to stay with us for a few days." Crookshanks lifted his head and looked at Harry with obvious recognition.

            "You remember me don't you?" as Harry scratched Crookshanks behind the ears.

            "Obviously," Hermione said with satisfaction dropping him back to the bed. "Oh, I've been looking forward to this." Hermione reached behind the mirror of her vanity and pulled out a key. "The only people who ever see my room are my muggle girlfriends. But you are the first to see this," as she put a key in a cabinet lock, "besides my parents."

            The cabinet door opened up showing pictures that moved, wizarding pictures. There were cards, like the kind you collect from chocolate frogs, a couple promo cards of the Chudley Canons, the omnioculars Harry got her at the World Cup, a promo picture of the Weird Sisters that played at the Yule Ball, a small picture of Viktor Krum (signed Viktor Krum), a slightly larger picture of Harry playing Quidditch, and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team with the School Quidditch Cup they won their third year.

            But in the middle of all this was a large picture of Hermione with her arms stretched out behind Harry and Ron on either side. Harry and Ron had an arm across Hermione's shoulders and were waving with their free one. All three, the best of friends and grinning mischievously.

            Harry remembered when it was taken. Collin Creevey had taken it in their second year. Harry couldn't resist, "Say, now there's a couple of fine fellows but who's the pretty one in the middle?" He surprised himself, he called Hermione pretty.

            She smiled and said mockingly, "Humph, as if you didn't know."

            They both laughed and Harry said, "We look young there. Maybe we should get Collin to take another one this year."

            "Yes, I think we should…I like that idea."

            "I noticed Viktor signed his."

            "Jealous are we?" Hermione shot back.

            "No, no. Just noticed, that's all."

            Hermione turned quickly and unlocked her trunk. "Well, we can fix that," as she pulled out a quill and some ink. "Here you go Mr. Potter, sign." But Harry hesitated. Reassuringly she said, "Go on...I want you to."

            Harry took the quill and underneath his waving image wrote 'Harry Potter'. The ink was flashing the Gryffindor colors, red and gold.

            Hermione held up the photograph surveying the signature. "Hmmm, you know, this could be worth something some day.

            Harry snorted and they both laughed.

            "Come on, I'll show you the rest of the house. There are still a few more surprises." Hermione seemed anxious as she locked up her cabinet and trunk and they headed downstairs. At the bottom of the steps she waved at a door, "This is the home office that mum and dad use. Directly across is the cloak room." She pointed to another door just down from the cloak room. "That's mum's room. She sews or paints, or whatever."

            They both walked just inside the dining area. The dining room table was a dark wood with glass top and matching chairs. Beyond that was a kitchen separated from the dining room by a half bar and stools. David Granger was sitting on one next to a woman with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes.

            "Harry this is my wife Katherine."

            Harry nodded and bowed slightly. "Pleased to meet you."

            "Hello, Harry. I must say you're every bit of the handsome young man that Hermione has described."

            Hermione stomped her foot, "Mother!"

            Katherine ignored her, "We've heard so much about you these past several years. It's a shame we haven't met you sooner."

            "Aggh! Mother!"

            David chuckled and intervened, "So pumpkin, did you show Harry your special cabinet?

            Hermione's eyes brightened, "Yes I did, and I even got an authentic Harry Potter signature."

            Harry's cheeks and tips of his ears turned slightly pink as David nodded approvingly with a grin and Katherine cooed, "How nice."

            Hermione cleared her throat, "Ahem."

           "Yes, yes, we've stalled you long enough," said David. "Show him pumpkin."

            Hermione turned to Harry beaming; she motioned with a sweep of her arm to Harry's right a large brick fireplace. Painted white, it was large enough to step into. He hadn't even noticed when he first stepped into the room; his attention had been on the Grangers across the room. Aside from it being brick and white it reminded him of the Weasley's fireplace. "Is this a . . ."

            Hermione cut him off excitedly, "Yes it is! Now you see how you can get to The Burrow."

            "Cool," was all Harry could say, his mind swirling with possibilities.

            David and Katherine had walked up beside Hermione, David with his arm around Katherine. Harry noticed that Katherine was only slightly taller than Hermione as David explained about the fireplace.

            "At the beginning of summer we had Hermione contact Arthur Weasley about installing this fireplace and the feasibility of putting it on the Floo Network. Katherine and I had toyed with the idea before because of Hermione's desire for wizarding books, and the constant trips to Diagon Alley helped make the decision. Arthur is really a nice fella though a little intimidating at first. He got it approved with the Ministry of Magic as an exception since our Hermione is a witch." He said 'witch' with pride.

            "And the top of her class," added Katherine with equal pride.

            "Yep, and a good friend as well" said Harry not wanting to be left out on praising Hermione.

            She looked at Harry and stammered a little, "Th-thanks." Turned to her parents, "Pleeease," and continued about the new fireplace to Harry. "Mr. Weasley said it would be best if we had a 'muggle' contractor build the fireplace to the necessary specifications so that it wouldn't attract too much attention. It wouldn't be wise to suddenly have a new chimney and fireplace appear overnight in a muggle house in a muggle neighborhood."

            David went on, "The contractor we got was abhorred at how we wanted it built, said it was positively medieval, large enough to step into."

            "Tried desperately to talk us out of it," interjected Katherine, "but we were quite firm."

            "Yes, we were quite firm and in the end he shrugged his shoulders and said, 'Eh, it's your money'. Arthur worked closely with the contractor and was simply fascinated with the tools they used and how they did it." David noticed the questioning look on Harry's face and guessed. "Oh yes, Arthur was dressed muggle style. I even gave him a few pointers. He was most pleased. What fascinated Arthur most was the natural gas starter for the fire. I believe the contractor thought he was a bit touched in the head."

            "Well daddy it didn't help that you were standing behind Mr. Weasley pointing at your head and rolling your eyes."

            The Grangers were chuckling, and Harry was laughing as well, imagining at how it must have looked.

            Still chuckling David said, "Well I had to do something when Arthur didn't have a clue what natural gas was and got all excited about it. Can't have everyone knowing magic really exists, ya know. I had to do my part. Besides the contractor already thought he was daft. I just helped him along."

            "After it was completed Arthur did the magic touches so to speak. He made the fireplace look like a regular fireplace. He added a couple of buttons for Katherine and myself plus put the counter spell on us so that we could still see it as it really is."

            Hermione went on, "The buttons are for mum and dad Harry, since they are unable to operate a wand. See Harry there are certain safeguards built into the Floo Network, in other words Floo etiquette. There are public and private Floos. The Leaky Cauldron has a public Floo and is accessible 24 hours, but a private Floo must be tapped or you make an appointment."

            "Um, what's tapped?"

            "You tap the right side of the fireplace with your wand and call out the name of the destination. On the other end there is an announcement of someone calling, like a door chime. An announcement, also called a 'knock', can be anything really, a sound, sparks, etcetera, some people get quite creative. What you see on the other end, after a knock, is a wavy image, but no voice, of who wants to come over. It's like a door viewer."

            "How come no voice?" asked Harry.

            "Well, as I understand from reading about the development of the Floo Network, it was too susceptible from those who have the power of persuasion. That's why we have this dry erase board and rag on the mantle. You can put a short message on it and the person on the other end can decide to let you come over or not. If they do, they will tap on the left side of the fireplace and you get a response called a 'Step in'."

            "So that's why there's a button on the left side of the fireplace and another on the right? For your mum and dad?"

            Hermione nodded.

            "Hermione, lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes," said Katherine.

            "Punkin, be sure and let Ron know Harry will be staying a few days. I think he was expecting Harry to show up twenty minutes ago," said David as he and Katherine went back to the dining room and kitchen.

            "But, I've still got one more thing to show Harry," pleaded Hermione just as a dong from an old bell seemed to come from the fireplace and echo through the house. A few seconds later a wavy image of Ron appeared in the fireplace. He was holding a chalkboard with the words, 'Where's Harry? Lunch is almost ready.' written on it. "Drat" was all she said reaching for the dry erase board. As Ron's image faded away Hermione wrote 'We need to talk. Come over. Harry staying.' and pushed the button on the right hand side as she held up the board to the fireplace opening and then pressed the button on the left.

            The fireplace suddenly burst into green flame and Ron stepped out with a mix of irritation and good tidings on his face as he looked at his two friends. "Oi, Harry, Hermione what's the problem? Mum's got lunch ready. C'mon Harry, where's your trunk, let's go!"

            "Ah, Ron I think I should stay here a couple of da…"

            Ron cut him off, "Whaaat? Haaarrrry."

            "Harry doesn't have his summer homework done Ron," she paused letting that sink in. "Do you think Harry will be more likely to get it done here or at the Burrow?" as she gave him the 'evil eye' look. "Besides I haven't shown him the library yet. And by the way, do you have all of yours done?"

            "Awww, Harry," he said dejectedly looking at Harry. Then he looked at Hermione a little sheepishly, "Ah, no, mine's not completely done either." Ron quickly added, "Almost, though."

            "Well Harry hasn't started his. Why don't you come back over after lunch and you can both work on it together."

            "Oh, alright," said Ron still looking dejected again, "I'll see you after lunch, eh, Harry?" Ron turned back to the fireplace muttering something about "bad as his mother…nose in a book all summer…library …nuts" Ron must have known the look Hermione was giving him as he stepped back into the green flames he turned around with a smirk on his face and said, "The Burrow" and disappeared in a last burst of flame.

            "Indeed!" said Hermione with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes looking into the fireplace where Ron had been, watching the flames die away to nothing. She then gave a sideways questioning look to Harry, "I'm not really that bad, am I?"

            "No," said Harry shaking his head. "We just like to tease you," they both laughed.

            "Lunch is ready," came Katherine's voice from the kitchen.

            After lunch Hermione asked her mother, "Need any help cleaning up?"

            "No, dear. Go ahead and show Harry the library. I know you've been dying to show him ever since he got here."

            "Finally," she said with relief. "Come on Harry," as she led him from the dining room past the new fireplace and into the living room toward the far wall. The far wall was covered with shelves of Muggle books with a single door on the right side. As Hermione went toward the door it occurred to Harry that the door couldn't possibly go anywhere, unless it went to the outside of the house.

            "Say, Hermione is your library a magicked room?"

            "How very astute of you Mr. Potter," she said grinning while opening the door. As they entered, bewitched floating candles lit up showing a room just as large as the living room. There were chairs with small tables next to them along with one large table in the middle of the room with more chairs around it. There were shelves over all the walls, but only about a third of them were filled with books, they were all wizarding books. Half of the large table in the middle of the room was covered with books and drawings. Hermione flicked a switch next to the door and the room was brighter yet but the light flickered.

            "Isn't it wonderful Harry? Someday I hope to have all these shelves filled with wizarding books. The electric light flickers because electricity doesn't work well in a magicked room, but it's not too noticeable with the flickering of the candles," she talked excitedly. "My own library….it used to be such a pain to try and keep all of my magic stuff picked up so that none of our muggle friends would see them."

            "I take it that Mr. Weasley magicked the room bigger?"

            "Yes, but dad had the contractor build a little narrow walkway behind the bookshelves on the living room side of the wall first. Dad told him that we were going to put in a home entertainment system and wanted the space for wiring. Mr. Weasley magicked the room bigger and put Anti-Muggle charms on the library door, the new fireplace, and my cabinet. I think we'll start studying about Anti-Muggle charms in sixth year and learning to cast them in seventh year." Hermione continued on about the differences and varying degrees of Anti-Muggle charms as Ron walked in with several books under his arm.

            "Hey, let's get started shall we?" Ron looked at Hermione, "Your mum let me step in." He looked around the room and then at Harry grinning broadly, "The sooner this is over, the sooner we get to the Burrow….and brooms….and Quidditch." Harry grinned back, glad that he was looking forward to something for a change.

            It seemed to Harry that they had just sat down to study in the Grangers wizarding library when he became aware of Ron and Hermione talking.

            "That about wraps it up for me, and thanks Hermione your help made it go a lot quicker."

            "Let's just say your work is sufficient, it could bear top marks if you wanted to put a little more effort into it."

            "What? And show you up? Couldn't bear the thought of it," Ron said as Hermione rolled her eyes.

            "Ron, how did you get done so fast? We just got started a few minutes ago."

            Ron and Hermione looked at Harry as each one had an opposite eyebrow raised. "It's almost six o'clock Harry," said Hermione. "Dad said he was starting dinner."

            "Yeah, Harry I don't know that I've ever seen you so zoned out before. Is Hermione rubbing off on you? Maybe we should send out for a Mediwizard. I'd hate to think it was contagious." Hermione punched Ron in the shoulder. "Ow! Sorry professor….suddenly I feel like Lee Jordan." They all laughed.

            Ron pushed the fire starter with his shoe as a flame came to life and he reached into a porcelain bowl on the mantle and took out a pinch of Floo powder. He tossed it in and green fire burst forth. Before he stepped into the flames he turned to his friends. "Harry, at the rate your going it shouldn't take you but a few days to finish up. Hermione, are you coming over with Harry?"

            "Ah, not right away, a few days later maybe. I've still got some shopping to do." Hermione looked up at the ceiling as she said this and then back to Ron. "Do you have your shopping done?"

            "As a matter of fact I do Miss Granger. Fancy me being one up on you."

            Harry looked perplexed like he ought to know what they're talking about but just shrugged it off.

            "Alright, see you in a few Harry, and I'll see you in a few after that, eh, Hermione?" Ron stepped into the green fire, "The Burrow" and disappeared.

            "Hermione, I noticed Ron didn't knock before he went home."

            "Oh, that's because he's imprinted, magically, with a key to the Burrow. He actually didn't have to say anything, after a couple of seconds he would have automatically gone home. It's just proper Floo etiquette to call out your destination. It's considered a safety feature for small children to automatically take them home."

            "This Floo Network is more complicated than I thought. Did you say your dad was cooking dinner?"

            "Since dad and mum both work they take turns cooking."

            "I think I'll see if your dad needs any help."

            Mr. Granger was surprised and grateful for the help as Hermione and her mother set the table. Dinner was pleasant as conversation touched on contrasts between the Muggle and the wizarding world. After dinner Hermione was about to wash the dishes.

            "Would you like some help?"

            "Ah, sure Harry, but you don't have to."

            "What else am I going to do, study? Besides it won't take very long if I help," he said giving her a smile that could make her melt. "Would you like me to wash or dry?"

            "I..I can dry and put dishes away since I know where they go."

            David and Katherine were still sipping coffee at the dining room table talking about their up coming day at work while watching the two teenagers washing dishes.

            "David, our little girl is growing up."

            "Yes she is luv. And if some day she were to find a fella like Harry there I don't think she would be doing so bad."

            "They're still a bit young dear."

            David paused before answering. "Another three years and she will be graduating. It will be here before we know it." He paused again as if something was on his mind, but turned and smiled to his wife and she smiled back.

            Harry was ready to turn in for the night and said goodnight to the Grangers, thanking them again for letting him stay. Hermione followed him up to make sure that he knew where the towels were for a shower or bath in the morning and that he had everything that he needed. Harry said goodnight to Hermione and checked on Hedwig before she flew out for the night. He fell asleep rather quickly, but not all creatures in the Granger house sleep so easily at night.