Harry had a problem. It was simple to state, but he'd be dropped back into a Dursley hell if he could figure out how to solve it. The question was this: How do you find something that is generally regarded as hidden? Namely, how did Harry, the last Potter, actually find the Potter lands?
People need a purpose that they select for themselves. No one ever told you that, Harry knew, but it was true. All the truer for how people didn't talk about it.
His purpose, for now, was to find his family's lands even through whatever kept them hidden. He could take himself to Godric's Hollow and stumble around looking for them. Or he could get clever.
But how...
Harry wished he'd run into the Flamels again. Maybe they'd suggest something.
Hogwarts in the summer was much better than Privet Drive, but Harry decided he wasn't staying at Hogwarts the next summer. He decided to find a tent or something the next time he was in Hogsmeade. For when he figured out how to get onto his family's lands.
He was outside with his plate of lunch when the rather old, rather weathered owl found him. Errol, the Weasley owl.
He read the messy letter quickly. Ron's handwriting was getting better, as was Harry's. Quills were still a bit of a mystery to him.
They had invited him to spend the last ten days before school restarted at their home, The Burrow. Ron's letters offered to pick Harry up from Surrey.
Well, Harry wasn't returning to Surrey and he wasn't admitting to where he'd been for the summer. So he'd have to take the Knight Bus. That was more plausible for him to use than flooing from Hogsmeade.
The Knight Bus, the ghastly things wizards created...
Harry wanted to see Ron's house. He now wanted to see if he could get a little further along on his project. How could Harry ask one of them about finding hidden lands? Without admitting what he'd done this summer...
So he wrote to Ron and took the letter to Hedwig in the owlery. Errol took up residence and made it clear he wasn't returning to the Burrow anytime soon.
Harry increased the tempo of his remaining projects. He doubted he would be able to use magic once he was outside Hogwarts or its grounds. Best not to tempt things.
One week later, Harry decided that Ron's home was very cozy and amusing, if loud. The twins made noises which made Percy grumble which made Ron's mother yell. And she could yell.
Ron was happier at the Burrow than he usually was at Hogwarts. Here he could laze if he wanted. He could climb a tree or fly when he wanted. He could be ordered by his mother to fling garden gnomes. If the twins were chaos, and Percy was order, then Ron was family. He didn't see it, not yet, but Harry had a sense of it. Ron wouldn't be happy with that particular gift, perhaps not for a long time when he became a father. Harry wondered if Ron's father, Arthur, also had a similar gift while his other brothers had different ones.
Harry ate well. What the house elves cooked was different from what Mrs. Weasley cooked. (Which was also different from what Harry had learned to cook for his aunt and uncle.) Harry couldn't rank them, he just liked food with healthy portions.
It was nearing their return to Hogwarts. Ginny was an awkward little thing who didn't seem able to string together more than four words. Ron was getting surly about going back to school. The twins had turned up the heat on their forty flavors of madness. Percy looked like he would actually be the first Weasley to go bald, especially because he was pulling out his own hair in frustration. (Not fair for him that he was one person representing order when there were two, well attuned to each other, representing chaos.)
Harry just smiled. This is what he had never had, a family that was imperfect and pushy and volatile. If Harry had his mother or a younger brother or a sister or a father, what would life have been like? Something like this, with a little less chaos?
.....
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