Chapter 8: Code(X)

"I think you need to work harder in class, Harry," Hermione argued as his mother was driving them back to Little Whinging. Despite the Grangers' misgivings, they didn't yet have enough observations to report. "You said your charms and transfiguration were at three, but your potions were at two?"

Harry checked his character sheet and agreed, "Yep."

Hermione continued, "If we take as a given that those max out at twenty, and given your grades in those classes, until we get more data I think we can assume that we're meant to get about four points in each per year so we could be at twenty in time for the exams. So if you only earn two or three each year, you'll be way behind for OWLs."

"Especially for DADA," Harry complained. "We didn't learn any Combat Magic last year. It's still at naught."

Hermione pursed her lips, worried that she would also be behind. "I did well on the written exams… maybe for that class the practical portion comes in later and then increases faster? It's difficult to come up with a complete theory because so many of our classes don't map to a skill."

"Yeah, stuff where I just know things is hard. It's weird there's not a spot for that." Harry had very quickly grown accustomed to the game overlay encompassing his whole life.

"Maybe there is," she mused. "Like a journal or something."

"I tried that when I found the quest log," Harry disagreed. "What's another word for a diary of information?"

"Notebook. Record. Handbook," Hermione listed off some options.

"Codex?" Helen suggested.

"That's done it!" Harry agreed. A new pane of information had popped up. "Brill! Here's the rest of the classes. I have fantastic beasts, magical plants, events in history by date, constellations… oh, and that's just the Mage tab. Looks like facts about the regular world are under the General tab."

"Yay!" Hermione pumped her fist, and then frowned, "Wait! Does that mean that all your exams on facts are basically going to be open book? That's so unfair!"

"Dear, you can change reality by waving a stick, and may well be one of the smartest people on the planet because you said 'level up: genius' twice," Helen corrected her. "Fair is relative. Be grateful for the advantages you have."

"Yes, mum," she said, contritely. They still weren't sure whether she was at maximum intelligence. The take-home tests they'd been able to obtain were rather more for fun than for exact scoring. She thought they seemed easier, but she'd already been extremely smart. She'd need to find a proctored exam to be told how much of a genius she was.

While they'd been arguing, Harry had been flipping through the codex and admitted, "Most of these are just a sentence or two. It may not be much of a help on tests unless I actually learn more information. But at least now I know what I don't know?"

"I am figuring out how to get this for myself," Hermione promised, quietly.

A new name and arrow appeared underneath Hermione's to the left and Harry said, "Oh! Wicked! That worked. Ron joined the party." He didn't see Ron's hit point and other bars, though, so maybe he could only see those when his party members were close.

"How?" she checked.

"I sent him a letter with Hedwig last night and asked him if he wanted to be in my party. Guess he just wrote back to say yes," he explained.

"Huh," Hermione nodded. "Can you see where he is?"

Harry pointed in the direction of the arrow on the map, which was the same color as Hermione's circle. "Off that way."

"I think that is toward Devon," Hermione agreed. "It will be very convenient to find people around school at this rate. We'll just ask you."

"Reckon I should invite the whole dorm into the party?" Harry mused. "I wonder if we share XP."

She figured, "Maybe Neville. And it could be helpful to know where Fred and George are. The rest of the quidditch team?"

"I can invite Fred and George if I wind up going to Ron's. I asked him in the letter whether the invitation to come stay the last couple of weeks was still open, so I'll hear back soon, I imagine."

Helen nodded. What little Hermione had told her about Ron's family made it sound like the house might be a little full, but likely a lot better environment for Harry. "Will you have to ask your aunt and uncle?" she checked.

Harry shook his head and grinned conspiratorially, "I reckon I'll just tell them on the way out the door again, like yesterday. They'll be glad enough that they don't have to take me to King's Cross."

"Don't forget your camouflage," Hermione reminded him, as they were pulling into Privet Drive.

"What? Oh! Right, thanks Hermione," he said, quickly switching his clothes back to Dudley's castoffs. The way the world seemed to briefly stutter and then he was instantly in a new article of clothing was still baffling to both Granger women. It was one thing for him to describe what he was seeing, and another to watch reality bend in a way that wasn't even magic. When they pulled up to Number Four, Harry quickly said, "Thanks so much!" and piled out of the car, and was surprised that Helen got out and followed him to the door.

Aunt Petunia, eyes ever peeled for happenings in the neighborhood, had the front door open instantly. She looked like she was trying to work herself into a snit, so Helen quickly said, "Mrs. Dursley. Thank you so much for letting Harry come visit. It was an absolute treat." She leaned in, as if sharing a secret, and said, "We noticed that he's not actually very well socialized for London, and were thinking it might help to have him come over again before he returns to school. I'm sure Hermione will be calling to check in on him."

The urge to tell the woman to mind her own business warred in Petunia's mind with her desire to be seen by her neighbors associating with such a put-together woman driving such a nice car, and the latter barely won out, "Of course. I do hope that we'll have more warning next time."

"You know children and remembering to tell adults things," Helen shrugged and smiled, notably not promising that. "Well, we have to motor. Pleasure to see you again. Goodbye, Harry!"

"I suppose if you must associate with others of your ilk," Petunia declared, as she hustled Harry inside, "they're at least more acceptable than people showing up in robes. Now go get your chores done!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry agreed, not pleased to have to do the low-XP tasks but at least happy to get out of it without a scolding.

Hedwig showed up with the return letter from Ron while he was working in the garden, and he quickly retrieved it from her and put both it and the owl into storage before Uncle Vernon could see. Once he finished up his chores, he was able to read it in his room, where Ron had agreed that his family would be by to pick Harry up the next weekend.

Harry wondered if they'd show up in robes.

Cognizant of Hermione's worry that he was way behind where he needed to be to get 20s in his practical magical skills by the end of fifth year, Harry spent less of the week grinding quests and more doing his homework. He knew he probably wouldn't get much done at Ron's house. It helped with his motivation that he could see his codex filling out, and he'd occasionally get a notification that he'd gotten XP toward his skills. He wasn't sure he wanted to kill himself to get all Outstandings like Hermione, but having getting the numbers up as quantifiable objectives was a profound incentive.

His aunt was also letting him take calls from Hermione, however briefly. She hovered and looked cross about it, so he couldn't talk long or about anything secret. He at least could let her talk on her end, and reply with yes or no answers, so he was able to get some help on a problem that had been stumping him in his homework, and let her know surreptitiously that he'd be at Ron's starting that weekend.

After the second call, Dudley tried to taunt him. "Harry's got a girrrrlllfriend," he sang.

Harry was pretty pleased with himself that his response was simply, "Do you have a girlfriend, Dud?" His cousin's mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened, but he couldn't figure out how to go run to Aunt Petunia to tell on Harry. After all, it's not like Dudley wouldn't also have liked a girlfriend, if only for the bragging rights to his mates.

The night before Ron's family was supposed to show up, Harry unlocked the cupboard under the stairs again, and retrieved his trunk. He initially couldn't get it into his inventory with the few spaces he had left, and had to load basically everything he could do without instant access to into the trunk before he could load it in. Hopefully Uncle Vernon wouldn't notice the "theft" until he was long gone.

He also went ahead and shoved the Commodore into his storage, just in case there was something uniquely magical about it. He doubted he'd be able to plug it in at the Weasleys', but it was better to have it and be sure. He honestly probably should have brought it over to Hermione's to let her play it and try to unlock her own game interface.

The arrival of the Weasleys initially seemed to Aunt Petunia like some kind of strange traveling salesman. A tall man with thinning red hair showed up in her driveway in a turquoise Ford Anglia wearing too-large blue jeans and a too-small golfing sweater, and knocked at the door. Before she could yell at him about no soliciting (a bit hypocritically, since Vernon's business made a fair amount of its money selling power tools door-to-door), he was asking her the bizarre question of, "Very clever, all these houses. So similar! Do they build them in place, or is there a factory somewhere that stamps them out?"

"It was… built here," she boggled at the man, who was craning his head around to take in the entire living room viewable from the door in a way that somehow came off as curious rather than rude.

"So many photographs! And such a pristine household. Looks nearly untouched. Do you do all of this with a vacuum cleaner?"

"Ha! Yes. We already own an excellent vacuum, thank you!" she cut him off, thinking she'd pegged him as selling the things.

"May I see it? I've collected several, though I haven't been able to get any working," the man said, enthusiastically. "Well, I fib. I got one running, it nearly swallowed the carpet, and my wife banished it back to the shed, where it smashed. No more such things in our house, I'm afraid, unless I can prove they're safe and efficient!"

Adrift again, Petunia finally asked, "Excuse me. What do you want?"

"Oh, dreadfully sorry. I'm Arthur Weasley. We're here to pick up Harry," he explained, as if he'd thought that was obvious.

"BOY!" Petunia shouted, to the near-instantaneous clattering of trainers as Harry rushed downstairs, wincing that he'd missed them arriving. He should have noticed Ron's dot coming into his map, but had gotten distracted finishing his chores. Even without the nameplate, from the hair he'd assume that had to be Ron's dad.

[ARTHUR WEASLEY

Minister, Level 13

[MINISTRY OF MAGIC,

GRYFFINDOR]]

"Sorry Aunt Petunia. Bye Aunt Petunia," he said, managing to slip past her. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. Is Ron in the car? Brilliant," he said, shaking the man's hand as he spotted Ron waving from the car, right where his map said his friend should be.

[RON WEASLEY

Mage, Level 2

[GRYFFINDOR]]

"Do you have your luggage?" Arthur asked, ready to snoop around the muggle home while helping with the trunk.

"All sorted. See you next summer, Aunt Petunia," Harry announced, managing to chivvy the man to his car.

"Next… summer?" she cocked her head, trying to make sense of it.

"Bye!" Harry waved, having piled into the backseat as Mr. Weasley shrugged and got the car started, backing out of the driveway.

"Well… at least they weren't wearing robes," Petunia muttered to herself. She caught one of her neighbors staring and she lied, "St. Brutus' folk. You know how it is."

"Hmph," the man nodded, not totally buying it. With all the helping Harry had been doing around town the last couple of weeks, people were starting to doubt the Dursleys' story that he attended a school for criminals.

In the car, Harry was finally able to relax, the tension of living at Number Four leaving his body for another year as Ron rapidly tried to catch him up on everything that had happened to him over the summer, interspersed with Mr. Weasley asking questions about every muggle thing that caught his attention on the drive.

They'd driven for about twenty minutes and hit countryside when Mr. Weasley suggested, "Don't tell Molly about this, boys." He then checked both directions for anyone watching, pulled some levers, and the car started to float off the ground. "And never forget the invisibility," he cautioned, twiddling something else. "Not that you should ever drive the car without permission."

"Brilliant!" Harry said, peering out the window as the ground dropped away.

"Yeah, it's loads faster than taking the road," Ron agreed, thrilled that his friend was impressed by his car. "Mum always makes us stay on the ground to get to King's Cross. It's why we're always nearly late. I reckon we'd be early if we could just fly."

"Does this fit your whole family?" Harry asked, confused. It was a fairly small car, and could maybe fit two more people comfortably.

"Space expansion," Mr. Weasley supplied. "Though it's best that you look out a window when the whole family's aboard, or you'll go a little crosseyed."

A new quest popped up:

…[AND AUTOMOBILES

Experience all wizarding travel methods.

* Hogwarts Express

* Broom

O Floo Network

O Apparition

O Phoenix

O Knight Bus

O Portkey

* Arthur Weasley's Car

* Sirius Black's Motorcycle

O Flying Carpet]

"Is this like… Sirius Black's Motorcycle?" Harry checked, unsure of why it was giving him credit for that one.

"That's where I got the idea!" Arthur enthused, but then frowned. "Sad end, that man, but skilled at enchanting."

That just gave Harry more questions, but he could tell when an adult didn't want to talk about a subject, so he'd have to find out more later. Instead he asked, "And the Knight Bus?"

Mr. Weasley replied, "Not quite the same. The bus uses co-location rather than flight charms. Though I guess that's a similar principle to the space expansion. You know your stuff, Harry."

Harry shrugged and hid a small smile at the praise. He was cheating a little bit, but it was very surprising to have so many adults praise him. Before he'd met Ron and Hermione's parents, it had really only been Hagrid and Dumbledore. A kid could get used to that treatment.

For the rest of the flight to Devon, Harry fully participated in the discussion about the various travel methods wizards used, the back-and-forth between him, Ron, and Mr. Weasley both fun and informative (his codex filling out proved it).

Maybe this was what being in a family was supposed to be like?