A/N: I had to rework this and repost it under as a whole new story due to some technical problems. If you would like to read past reviews, please visit the other version of this which goes until Chapter 6. Thank you all.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story, of course!

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Harry Potter woke the day before his fifteenth birthday feeling extremely elated. This was quite a different feeling from the one he usually experienced while waking up during the summer holiday. Usually, he woke with thoughts of what he was going to do to pass the time in his aunt and uncle's house or with thoughts of what his uncle could possibly think of to chew him out about that day. For as long as he could remember his mornings had always been filled with these thoughts- that is to say the mornings he spent on Privet Drive with Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their wretched oaf of a son Dudley. The mornings he had spent away at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were, on the other hand, quite pleasant for the most part.

That's why he was feeling so chipper about waking up on that particular July morning. No, it wasn't the start of a new year at Hogwarts, but it was as close as you could get. In fact, it might even be better.

Harry was leaving that day to go to the Burrow where he would spend the rest of his summer holiday with his best friend Ron Weasley and Ron's family. The Weasleys were Harry's absolute favorite family in the world, and the prospect of spending a month and a half with them was almost enough to make up for the month he had spent on Privet Drive.

Harry glanced at his watch and smiled to himself. 6:36 AM. The Weasleys would be arriving in exactly three hours and twenty-four minutes- if they were on time for once, that is. Ron had sent him a letter by Owl Post three days before saying that they would arrive at 10:00 AM to collect him and to be ready because, as Ron wrote, "Dad reckons he's not too welcome there, and he doesn't want to impose on the Muggles." Well, Mr. Weasley was right, of course. He wasn't welcome in the Dursleys house, and the last time the Weasleys had arrived to pick Harry up, Uncle Vernon had made quite sure that was a well-known fact. Ron had also assured Harry that they would be arriving by car this time. They certainly didn't need anymore incidents with the fireplace, which the Dursleys had once again sealed to what Uncle Vernon said was "unbreakable."

Harry really didn't care one way or the other, though. He was just thankful that he was getting out of the Dursley's house quite a bit earlier than he had in the previous summers. To be quite honest, he didn't care if he left Privet Drive and never saw it again for as long as he lived. If he lived in an ideal world, he would stay with the Weasleys every day of summer holiday and every day of the Christmas holiday and even every day of the Easter holiday. Well, actually, in his ideal world, he would live with his parents. But that was impossible. His parents had died fourteen years ago when he had just been a baby. He didn't remember them at all, but he knew that they would definitely fancy the Weasleys looking after him much more than they would the Dursleys. But Harry had been told that it was for his own safety that he was sent to live with the Dursleys; they were Muggles, and apparently Harry would be kept much safer in their care. He didn't see why, though; the Dursleys

wouldn't even notice if his hair was on fire and he was choking to death on a piece of spinach at the same time. So, Harry often wondered exactly what it was about Privet Drive that was so much safer for him than a home in the Wizarding community.

Anyway, he didn't want to ponder that now. All he wanted to do was get his things packed so that when the Weasleys pulled up in their car (hopefully), he would be ready and waiting to jump in and head off to the Burrow. The sooner the better!

Harry reached for his glasses which rested on his nightstand and then sat up and stretched. The sun was pouring through his window already, and he could barely stand the anticipation of what was coming for later that morning. He could hear his aunt in the kitchen bustling around with pans and skillets. He really wasn't anxious for breakfast, but he knew that he would have a long ride ahead of him on the way to the Burrow. The last time he had gone there by car it had taken half a night. And they had been flying then- he had no idea how long it would take traveling on normal Muggle roads. He thought perhaps that the Weasleys would know of a magical way to make the car arrive quicker without resorting to flying, but he pushed the thought out of his head when he realized that Mr. Weasley probably enjoyed long car trips; they gave him an excuse to spend hours in a Muggle vehicle. So, deciding that he did indeed wanted some breakfast before the trip, Harry pulled on the clothes

he had set out the night before and trudged down the stairs.

Aunt Petunia was indeed in the kitchen banging around with her pots and pans, but she didn't appear to actually be cooking. Harry slid over to the table, which was currently empty, and stared at her. When she didn't acknowledge his presence, he finally spoke. "Good morning." It was an attempt at being nice on his last morning with the Muggles for what would be at least another year.

She looked at him as though he had grown a second head. "Good morning? Good morning? Yeah, it'll be a good morning alright when those... those... things show up at our house in another outrageous fashion like they did last year!"

"Well, they better show up in a decent matter this year," barked Uncle Vernon who had appeared at the doorway. "Or I'll give that Winston fellow a piece of my mind!"

"Weasley." Harry rolled his eyes as his uncle and aunt stared at him.

"Come again?" Uncle Vernon sat down across the table and glared at his nephew.

"I said Weasley. His name's Weasley not Winston." Harry looked down at the table, suddenly pretending to be very interested in the design on the china.

"I don't care what his name is!" Uncle Vernon snarled his words about Mr. Weasley in the same fashion he always snarled his words when addressing Harry. "If he shows up here using any of his... unusual means... I'll have something to say about it!"

"Haven't you always got something to say about it?" Harry avoided his uncle's eye.

"What?! Don't get sassy with me, boy!" His words were violently toned, but Harry didn't give it a second thought. He was used to being addressed in such a fashion; he had lived with that sort of treatment his entire life.

"Well, you don't have to worry," Harry finally looked up and made eye contact. "Ron told me that they're definitely coming in a car this time."

"Who's coming in a car?" Dudley appeared at the table still looking rather tired. He was an extremely massive boy despite the fact that he had been on a strict diet for over a year now. It hadn't helped at all. He still managed to take up an entire side of the kitchen table.

"The Weasleys," Harry said flatly.

Dudley grinned. "Oh, yeah. Those freaks are coming to get you today, eh? I nearly forgot."

Harry glared across the table at his cousin. "They're not freaks," he said warningly.

"Yeah? The last time they were here, I ended up with a tongue that went past my bloody knees! Sounds pretty freakish to me!"

Harry snickered at the memory. "It was a joke. One you obviously couldn't see the humor in." He narrowed his eyes. "And it's your own fault for being so greedy."

Uncle Vernon looked up from his paper and shot Harry a warning look. "You'd do good to stop talking while you're ahead."

Harry rolled his eyes and looked down at his empty plate again. When he saw his uncle pick the paper up again, he leaned in closer to Dudley and whispered, "And if I've got any luck, they'll put a hex on you this time."

Dudley gasped loudly and over-dramatically. "Mum! Dad! Harry just threatened me with ma... well, you know! He said he was going to put a hex on me so that I'd die tonight!"

Harry laughed loudly at his cousin's story, but his aunt and uncle did not share his amusement.

Aunt Petunia rushed to Dudley's side and began smoothing his hair down in a great over-done fashion. And Uncle Vernon stood up from his chair and towered over Harry menacingly. "You can forget about breakfast! You get upstairs!"

Harry sighed loudly and rose from his chair. He slammed it up against the table and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I don't care. Mrs. Weasley is the most fabulous cook in the entire world, and I'm sure she'll have a magnificent meal planned for when we arrive." Harry snuck a look at Dudley who was hanging onto his every word. "We'll probably have all sorts of steak and pork and great casseroles. And, oh, her desserts," he licked his lips for effectiveness. "Her desserts are the best I've ever had in my life. She makes great trifles with all sorts of jam and cream... I can hardly wait!"

Dudley was nearly drooling.

Uncle Vernon ignored his son and growled at Harry. "You keep talking, and you won't be going at all."

Harry smiled at him. "Oh? Fancy me staying here for two more months, do you?"

Uncle Vernon sighed, defeated. "Get upstairs and pack your things!"

Harry smiled triumphantly and climbed the stairs to his tiny second floor bedroom. His clothes were already packed away in his trunk; he had done that the night before. All he had to do now was pack his school things and the few other items he had to take and he would be done. He pulled up the floorboard by his bed and pulled out the items he treasured most one by one. Inside the secret compartment was the photograph album Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper, had given him at the end of his first year. It was filled with pictures of his parents, and Harry took the chance to glance at it quickly before packing it into his trunk. His mum and dad were smiling and waving at him from the album below. He smiled back and then closed the book and placed it in his trunk. Then he pulled out his broomstick, the Firebolt, the top Quidditch broomstick so far invented, and placed it carefully in his trunk, along with the broomstick care package he had received for his thirteenth birthday.

He pulled out several more items, including the Marauder's Map he had received from Ron's older brothers and the invisibility cloak he had inherited from his father.

Once Harry was done packing up all his school items, he glanced at his watch again. His heart jumped. It was already 9:48. He hadn't realized it was getting so late! He couldn't wait for the Weasleys to show up. Twelve minutes, he told himself. Just twelve minutes!

The twelve minutes passed quickly, and Harry was surprised to hear a car pull into the drive at exactly ten o'clock. The Weasleys had a reputation for being late everywhere they went; it was a reputation Harry had picked up from Ron when it came to class.

He raced down the stairs just in time to hear the doorbell ring. Uncle Vernon stopped him, however, from opening the door. "Get back," he said as he, himself, opened the door.

Harry stood beside his aunt and peered around Uncle Vernon to make sure that it was the Weasleys. It was indeed. Mr. Weasley stood on the doorstep along with his two youngest children, Ron and Ginny.

"Well, come in then," said Uncle Vernon in a voice he didn't even force to be cordial.

Mr. Weasley smiled nonetheless and stepped inside followed by Ron and Ginny. He held out his hand but seemed unfazed when it was ignored. "We drove this time." He laughed slightly, trying to make light of the mess that had occurred last summer when they had burst through the Dursley's fireplace causing a huge mess.

Uncle Vernon shook his head. "It's a good thing, too."

Mr. Weasley chose not to ask why it was such a good thing. Instead he turned his attention to Harry. Patting him on the shoulder, he smiled warmly. "How ya' doing, Harry?"

"Good, sir. Thanks." Harry looked over at Ron and Ginny who were both grinning mischievously from behind their father. "Hey, Ron. Ginny." He eyed them suspiciously.

"Harry, I've never seen your house or met your family before," said Ginny, grinning sweetly at Aunt Petunia.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley. This is Ginny." Harry swung his head in the direction of each person he referred to.

"It's very nice to meet you all. You have a lovely house." Ginny smiled wildly at them. "Harry, would you like Ron and me to help you with your things?"

"Er.. Sure." Harry had never seen Ginny be so friendly with strangers before. She was usually painfully shy. Nevertheless, he left Mr. Weasley and the Dursleys downstairs and led Ron and Ginny to his room.

Once they were out of earshot, he looked at them pointedly. "What are you two up to?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "We're not up to anything. Who do we look like? Fred and George?"

Harry cocked his head to the side and peered at them. "Well... Maybe if you were a bit shorter, Ron. And maybe if Ginny's nose were a little wider..." He laughed as they glared at him. "Where are they anyway?" Fred and George were the next youngest children in the Weasley family- identical twins.

"Ah, Mum's blessing them out because she saw them trying to sneak some Canary Creams out this morning to bring on the trip. She got so upset and started bellowing on about what happened last time with the Ton Tongue Toffee, and she wouldn't let them go." Ron shrugged his shoulders as though it didn't faze him in the least. But Harry supposed that Fred and George got blessed out at least twice a day by someone somewhere, so it was just a normal occurrence in the Weasley house.

"Anyway, Harry, you weren't lying about your cousin!" Ginny giggled quietly. "How do they even fit him in a desk at school?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I've never cared to ask." He motioned for Ron. "Will you give me hand with this? Ginny, can you grab Hedwig and bring her down?"

She nodded, willing to do anything to help Harry. It was no secret that she was quite taken with him. It was to her own dismay, though, that he seemed to think of her as nothing more than an almost kid sister. She walked over and picked up the cage which held a beautiful snowy white owl by the name of Hedwig. Harry and Ron both groaned as they lifted the heavy trunk and moved toward his doorway. It was quite an accomplishment getting it down the stairs and to the car, but they managed. Once the car was packed, they returned back into the house to say their good-byes.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley." Mr. Weasley smiled at them in one last attempt to be friendly. Neither of them would have it, though, as they both simply nodded and tried their best not to make eye-contact with him.

"It was very nice meeting you all." Once again, Ginny had stepped forward and was talking to them as though she hadn't noticed they were ignoring her. She walked over to the corner where Dudley had been standing, obviously afraid of another mishap, and smiled innocently at him. "And you, Dudley." She held out her hand.

Dudley stole a glance at his mother and father and then turned back to Ginny. He couldn't get past the fact that she was a girl. And that she was speaking to him. So, he accepted her hand and returned the smile. Blushing furiously, he muttered. "Nice to meet you."

She gave him one last grin and removed her hand. Then she crossed the room to join the others as they were walking out the door.

"Well, bye," called Harry. The Dursleys glared at him in response. He shrugged it off and turned to walk out the door but not before noticing that Dudley's hand was slowly turning rather circular. He stifled a giggle as Dudley himself noticed and let out an extremely loud yell. His hand had now taken the shape of a tennis racket, and he was waving it around in what looked extremely close to the way he would look in a real match.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rushed to their son's side, and Harry heard Uncle Vernon let out a string of words he never would have normally said in the presence of company. Mr. Weasley closed his eyes f or a brief moment and then turned to glare warningly at Ron and Ginny. "In the car," he said flatly. "Now." He then rushed back into the house assuring the Dursleys that he could take care of it.

Harry burst into laughter as soon as the three of them had settled into the old car Mr. Weasley had recently bought second-hand. "What was that all about?"

Ginny bit her lower lip as she held up her hand which was covered in a greenish sort of gel. "It's Weasley's Own Special Sports Gel. Fred and George just invented it two weeks ago. Instead of healing a sports injury it turns the body part you spread it on into a piece of sports equipment. Doesn't work on me, of course. Fred and George are making each of their items with the family name in the title so that it won't affect anyone with Weasley blood."

"Or so they say," finished Ron. "I'm sure they'll come up with some Weasley product that we'll think we're immune to, and it'll nip us right in the bud. I don't trust those two any further than I can throw them."

Ginny laughed as she wiped her hand on a piece of cloth she pulled from under the seat. "Mum hasn't seen this invention yet. They've made a lot of new stuff this summer! Really planning on opening that shop next year, I suppose."

Harry had helped to fund the opening of that shop, but he didn't mention it. "You're really in for it, though. If your dad tells your mum that you..." He shook his head and couldn't help but laugh.

Ginny shrugged. "Oh, I don't mind. I can get out of most anything with Mum. She's too concerned with watching the twins to notice anything Ron or I do. And anyway, Dad probably won't tell. He'll just blabber the whole way home."

Almost as if on cue, Mr. Weasley came rushing from the front door of the Dursley house and slid into the front driver seat. He turned at once to Ginny who was in the front passenger seat. "You should be ashamed!"

"Ah, Dad. It's just a joke." Ginny smiled at her father. Harry noticed that Ginny had been doing a lot of smiling today. Maybe it was her way of trying to appear innocent.

Mr. Weasley threw the car into reverse and pulled out onto the road, driving as quickly as possible away from the Dursley house where Harry was sure he could still hear Uncle Vernon yelling and Dudley crying. "I can't believe that you, Ginny, would do this!"

Ron leaned over and whispered into Harry's ear. "Let's see her sweet talk her way out of this one."

Ginny sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I was just having a little fun. And anyway, I can't help it."

"Can't help what?" Mr. Weasley seemed very interested to hear exactly what it was that couldn't be helped.

"I can't help playing jokes. It's not as if I don't have the masters at home to learn from," she said pointedly. "It's in my blood."

Mr. Weasley rolled his eyes. "In your blood, eh? Well, if that's the case, why is it that Percy and Bill and Charlie don't have it in their blood?" Those were the three oldest Weasley children.

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it just kicked in for the younger half."

Ron let out a snicker from behind his father.

Mr. Weasley looked into the rearview mirror at his youngest son. "Funny, Ron? I suppose it's in your blood, too?"

Ron held up his hands. "Hey, don't go throwing me into everything that crazy twit says," he said, motioning at his little sister.

Ginny turned around and glared at him. "Daddy, he just called me a twit!"

"Don't call your sister names, you hear?" said Mr. Weasley angrily to Ron's reflection.

Ron's mouth dropped open as he turned to Harry. "Do you see how she manages to ALWAYS turn the blame away from herself?"

Harry wanted desperately to laugh, but he didn't dare. That's all he needed was Ron sulking up and accusing him of siding with Ginny. So, he simply nodded slightly and looked out the window, so he wouldn't burst into a fit of laughter at any moment.

"What would your mother think if I told her that our two youngest, most innocent children were causing mischief with the same Muggle two of our other children managed to turn into a ton tongued helpless creature only a year before?" Mr. Weasley was shaking his head.

Harry couldn't help himself from snorting at his words, though. First off, although Ginny may have stayed, for the most part, out of mischief up until now, Ron had never been anywhere close to innocent. And calling Dudley a helpless creature?! That was a year's worth of laughs in itself!

Ron snuck a glance at Harry, and he, too, couldn't help but give a little chortle. They both tried to quiet themselves quickly, but Mr. Weasley heard them and once again looked into the mirror. This time from Ron to Harry and back to Ron.

"What's so funny, you two? Things you haven't been telling us?"

Harry saw Ginny look quickly out the window, so she, too, wouldn't start to laugh. Harry and Ron had broken every school rule in the books at least once in their four years at Hogwarts. There was no way either of them should be given the title of innocent. But they both just shook their heads seriously and murmured, "No, Sir," quietly.

The trip to the Burrow didn't take as long as Harry had expected. Mr. Weasley had finally given up lecturing, telling them that he would spare them from Mrs. Weasley this one time, but that was it. So, the rest of the trip had been filled with talk of what was to come for the rest of the summer. Harry was delighted to know that the Weasleys were planning a trip to the coast for the weekend after next. He couldn't wait! He had never even been to the beach for a day, much less a week long vacation like the Weasleys had planned.

When they finally reached the Burrow, Mr. Weasley stopped the car and told them not to worry about the trunk right away. He said he would take care of it later, so Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and hurried up the drive after Ron and Ginny.

The house, though small as it was, was an extremely welcoming sight to Harry's eyes. The Weasleys lived in exactly the kind of home he had always dreamed of. A home built not by material things, as the Dursleys so loved to show off, but by family and love. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, and when Harry, Ron, and Ginny walked through the door, she came rushing into the foyer to greet them. She at once wrapped her arms around Harry and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Harry, dear! How are you?" She beamed as she led him into the kitchen and pushed him into a seat at the table. "Things better with the Muggles?"

Harry smiled at her, but shook his head. "No, they're the same people they've always been."

She looked angry for a moment and muttered, "You'd think with all you'd been through last year, they'd show an ounce of humanity."

Mr. Weasley kissed his wife on the cheek. "Molly, they probably don't even know about You Know Who and everything that happened. They choose to ignore the magical side of the world."

Mrs. Weasley still looked bitter. Her demeanor changed, however, when she noticed Harry hungrily eyeing the ham she had pulled out of the oven moments before their arrival. "Hungry, dear?" she asked gaily. "Of course, you are! It was quite a road trip, I'm sure. You're probably famished! Probably haven't eaten since breakfast."

"I didn't have any breakfast," he admitted.

Mrs. Weasley looked astonished. "Someone needs to teach those Muggles a thing or two! Why, if I'd seen that woman.."

"Molly, calm down," urged Mr. Weasley.

For a long while, Mrs. Weasley had never spoken ill of the Dursleys in front of Harry, but it seemed as if those days had passed. "Well, just imagine! Depriving a growing young man of his food! Why, I've never!"

Harry watched with a bit of hidden amusement as Mrs. Weasley raved on and on about Aunt Petunia not knowing how to properly care for a growing boy. He was even more amused when Ginny spoke up from her place beside him at the table.

"Mum, if you'd seen the other boy, you'd know why Harry can't eat! Probably all the food in their city goes into his afternoon snack!"

Harry couldn't hide the smile from his face, and Ron couldn't contain the laughter that erupted from deep inside him. But perhaps the funniest thing, was the voice that sounded from behind them.

"Oh, so you met Dudley, eh, Gin?" It was Fred Weasley. George entered behind him as they sat down at the table between their dad and Ron.

George gave a gruff laugh. "Pity his tongue hadn't stayed that big. It gave him more proportion. That ton tongue fit the rest of his body perfectly."

"Yeah, he probably could have had a world record for the largest Muggle to ever walk the earth."

Ginny giggled. "I don't think the loss of the tongue would take that title from him."

Ron, though he didn't speak, glanced over at Harry, and was greatly pleased to see that Harry was enjoying himself so much. To be quite honest, he had been worried about Harry ever since they had left Hogwarts the year before. A lot had happened then, and Ron had worried about how Harry was taking it. He wouldn't admit his concern verbally, of course, but still, it was nice to see for himself that Harry appeared to be quite fine.

"So, how ya' doing, mate?" George raised an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "I'm alright. Fine now; that's for sure."

Mrs. Weasley brought the ham over to the table and set it down. "Yes, that's for sure. Don't you worry, Harry. While you're here with us, we'll keep you well-fed if nothing else. Fred?" She gestured towards one of the twins.

They both laughed as the one she was speaking to said, "I'm George, Mum. But never mind." He picked up the knife on the plate and began to slice the ham. Had he been of legal wizard status, he would have simply waved his wand and let the ham be sliced by itself. The twins, however, still had one year to complete in Hogwarts, so they, along with Ron, Harry, and Ginny, were not permitted to use magic outside of the school grounds.

As everyone was helping themselves to the baked ham, Harry saw Fred lean across the table to Ginny. "So, did it work?"

Ginny grinned and whispered. "He looked like he was practicing for Wimbledon!" The Weasley children knew more about Muggle sports than most pureblooded children simply because they spent so much time with people raised in Muggle homes and the fact that their father was a bit obsessed with the Muggle way of life.

"Wicked," muttered Fred as he leaned back to sit properly in his seat and gave his identical twin brother a rather low high five under the table.

All of this went unnoticed by Mr. Weasley who was buried into a copy of The Daily Prophet, the nationally accepted newspaper for witches, wizards, and other magical creatures. He was frowning slightly; though, he didn't appear as wishing to be bothered. Still, he muttered, "Diagon Alley," under his breath.

"What about it, Dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she finally sat down at the table between her husband and Ginny.

Mr. Weasley looked up, slightly taken aback at the sudden question. "Huh? Oh! Well, there's been a new Dark Arts supply store opened right on Diagon Alley. It says here that they're claiming they've just as much right as anyone else to open a store there. Saying they dare anyone to try and stop them." He wrinkled the paper a bit by grasping it so hard in his now tightly clenched fists.

"Well, haven't they got just as much right, Dad?" Ginny looked up from her spinach questioningly.

"Well, yeah, I suppose. There's no law saying that only supporters of the good side are allowed to open shop on Diagon Alley... It's just... The blasted nerve of them!" His eyes were really beginning to spark with anger. "What's the ministry to do when this sort of stuff keeps happening everywhere?"

With the mention of the ministry, Harry noticed one face missing that usually graced the table along with everyone else. "Where's Percy?" Percy was a very recent Hogwarts graduate and was now working for the Ministry of Magic.

Mrs. Weasley gave a slight sniffle, and Harry felt Ron pinch him rather hardly under the table. He let out a squeak of pain as Mr. Weasley hastened to answer the question. "Well, the Ministry's sent him out to do a bit of top-secret work. They've come to trust him most completely over the past year. We're sure he's fine," he finished, glancing at his wife who was now teary eyed.

"But we haven't heard from him in over three weeks," sniffed Mrs. Weasley. "I just hope he's alright."

Harry, regretting that he'd ever brought up the subject, smiled sort of reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure he's just fine."

She gave him a half-smile as she glanced around the table to see what progress everyone had made on their plates. All the boys had eaten three full plates, and even Ginny had eaten more than her usual. Mrs. Weasley raised her own wand, and within moments, the table had been completely cleared of their dirty plates and replaced with a heaping helping of Mrs. Weasley's raspberry tart at each place sitting.

"Good job, Mum!" said Ron as he dug in enthusiastically. If there was one way in the world to shut Ron Weasley up completely, it was to put anything containing sugar in front of him. Give him enough sweets, and you'd never hear from him again.

Harry's mouth watered at the mere memory of what the delectable treat tasted like, and he quickly glanced around. All six of the Weasleys at the table were eating away in record speed, so Harry wasted no more time. He picked up his spoon and took a bite. It was absolutely splendid! Harry smiled knowing that Dudley would give his right arm for what he was enjoying at that moment; he smiled even wider as he pictured Dudley with the right arm of a tennis racket. What had gotten into Ginny Weasley since they had left Hogwarts a little over a month ago? She was definitely not acting her normal self, but Harry didn't have time to ponder it. Not with all this delicious cream tart in front of him and the prospect of seconds waving at him in the very near future.