The last two weeks of August, the population of the Burrow always went up by two.

It had become tradition over their years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: the two best friends of the youngest Weasley son were welcome, and in fact expected, to come and stay as the first of September drew near.

Molly and Arthur Weasley loved having extra children around the house, even though at seventeen, these could hardly be counted as children anymore. Still, Molly had all but adopted Harry Potter as one of her own brood when he was just twelve. Harry was the orphaned son of a witch and a wizard who had been both powerful and well-liked. When they were killed by evil Lord Voldemort and the infant son had survived, Harry had become instantly famous; he had also been condemned to live his childhood as the unloved burden forced upon his Muggle aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. Molly had come to think of Harry as another son, and doted on him accordingly.

Molly took especial pleasure in doting on Harry because, despite being famous in the wizarding world, his Muggle upbringing had been so deprived of any sort of affection or special attention or treats. She also took especial pleasure in doting on Harry because, unlike her own offspring, Harry still let her.

As the hour of five o'clock approached on August the fifteenth, Molly could be found rushing back and forth through the downstairs of her home, directing her two youngest children in their contributions to the last-minute cleanup.

"Ginny!" she called out the back door into the garden. "Haven't you finished the de-gnoming yet?"

"Just two more, Mum!" came the reply from Molly's only daughter and youngest child.

"Ron!" she fussed as she turned back into the kitchen. "I thought you were going to finish putting the dishes away."

"Oh, Mum! You can do it magically, why do I have to do it by hand?"

"Ronald Weasley! You know perfectly well that I have a million other things to do in the next -" she let out a small shriek "- five minutes! Oh dear, oh dear..." Molly charged off, muttering to herself.

A grinning, freckled face appeared at the back doorway, framed by glowing red hair. This being the Burrow, most of the faces were freckled and framed by glowing red hair. This one, however, was also covered in garden soil. "The way she's carrying on, you'd think the Minister of Magic himself were coming to visit."

Ron returned his sister's smile. "Gin, this is more important than the Minister. It's Harry Potter," he replied, rolling his eyes ironically. Ron was sometimes jealous of his best friend's celebrity status at Hogwarts, but here in his own home, Ron couldn't begrudge Harry the special treatment he received from the older Weasleys. He'd seen the bars on Harry's window at the Dursleys' house five years earlier, and knew that he had it way over the famous young wizard in terms of family life. Truth be told, Ron was at least as excited about seeing his friend as Molly was.

As if reading his mind, Ginny gave her brother an impish smirk. "Ah yes, the famous Harry Potter is arriving. And you can just go on pretending that Harry is the one you're so impatient to see."

Before Ron had a chance to do anything beyond turning fuchsia in the ears, his mother's voice rang out from behind him. "Ginny! You're a mess! Go get cleaned up at once, before they arrive!"

"Garden's de-gnomed, Mum!" the youngest Weasley responded in a melodious singsong, tipping her brother a wink before running up the stairs to the bathroom.

Ron, if possible, turned an even deeper shade of magenta as he reached to place the last dish on its shelf. It had all been fair game teasing Ginny when she'd had a crush on Harry for so long, but now that the tables were turned...

His thoughts were interrupted by a small clatter and a quiet oomph from the living room.

"They're here!" cried Molly, and ran toward the sound, followed closely by her youngest son. As Ron rounded the corner behind his mother, he saw his best friend of six years being swooped up out of the fireplace into a crushing embrace. Arthur stood behind Harry, patting him on the shoulder and smiling. But Ron's attention was riveted on the young woman standing behind his father.

Hermione Granger, a bucktoothed and bushy-haired know-it-all when Ron had first seen her on the Hogwarts Express six years earlier, had somehow grown into the most beautiful woman he knew. And it wasn't as though she looked like the models on the cover of Witch Weekly. She didn't wear the latest fashions (even Ron knew her current Muggle clothes were pretty standard fare), and she didn't spend hours on her hair or makeup. She was simply lovely, from her face to the core of her being, and Ron knew this because she was one of his best friends, one of the best people he knew. And he was one of the two people who knew her best.

"All right, Ron?" came the voice of his famous mate, as if from miles away. By the time Ron registered that Harry had spoken and refocused his attention in the proper direction, he realised he had been standing there with his mouth open long enough for everyone in the room to be staring at him.

"All right, Harry," he answered his best friend with a grin, pretending at least to himself that he was acting perfectly normally.

Perfectly normally for a besotted teenager without the guts to tell his beautiful friend that he was desperately in love with her.

Hermione, still standing just in front of the mantle, smiled inwardly at the shock on her friend's face. She felt that she had grown up some this summer - not by any particular effort of her own, just in the due course of time - and she had come to be quite pleased with what greeted her in the mirror each morning. It satisfied her to see that Ron had noticed. Maybe there was hope for their relationship, after all. Not that they had one, yet, beyond a very strong friendship, but Hermione had known since fourth year that Ron had feelings for her. She had simply been waiting to make her move until he realised it for himself.

Hermione checked her thoughts. Here, at the Weasleys' home, was hardly the most appropriate place to begin her active pursuit of their son. No matter, there would be plenty of time once the students reached Hogwarts.

Arthur beamed at his son and his friends. He was so fond of both Harry and Hermione, and so happy that Ron had found such close bonds with his classmates. Few people were lucky enough at any time in their lives to have friends who stood by them as faithfully as this trio did for each other. And such friends to have! That Ron had managed to be the first student at Hogwarts to befriend the most famous member of his generation was truly a source of pride for Arthur. Harry was turning out to be a very fine young wizard. But Hermione Granger - and here Arthur turned to smile at the young woman who had elicited such a dumbfounded greeting from his youngest son -

Hermione was Muggleborn.

Arthur was fascinated by Muggles, the non-magic folk who dominated the human population of the planet. Somehow, through centuries of hardship, these people had managed not only to live but to thrive without any of the spells and enchantments taken for granted in any wizarding family's daily life. From the aeroplanes they had built to travel great distances to the electricity they had harnessed to provide light and power for household gadgets, Muggles had found truly extraordinary ways of coping with their lack of magical powers. And here, in his home, he was lucky enough to have two guests who were raised by Muggles!

Harry had been very helpful in showing Arthur how to use a fellytone - oops, that's telephone, he always had trouble remembering that - and was always patiently willing to do his best to answer whatever questions about Muggles that Arthur had. Still, Arthur couldn't help suspecting that his son's friend lacked a certain depth to his knowledge about many experiences in the Muggle world. Poor Harry had been so neglected as a child, it had really been a form of child abuse the way those awful Dursleys treated him. He had so often been left under the care of Arabella Figg while Vernon and Petunia took their spoilt boy, Dudley, to special places, that young Harry had never had the chance to see much for himself. Last winter, when Arthur had asked the boy detailed questions about something called skiing, Harry could only shake his head sadly and say he'd never been.

Hermione, meanwhile, had perfectly normal Muggle dentists for parents. Arthur had been lucky enough to meet the Doctors Granger in Diagon Alley five years earlier, and had seen them occasionally since. They were very kind people, with a great deal of affection for their remarkably bright daughter. Arthur was sure that Hermione would be the one who could help him learn more about his new acquisition.

Arthur smiled at both of the new arrivals, who had met him at the Ministry and traveled back to the Burrow with him by Floo. "So, are you two ready to see the surprise I just got?"

"Oh, Arthur, don't bother them with that thing yet!" his wife interrupted. "They've just arrived! How about some tea, dears? Ron, and oh, good, Ginny, you're here, too. Why don't you help Harry and Hermione with their luggage?"

Ginny gave both of her friends quick hugs, then took one end of Hermione's trunk and led the girl upstairs to her room. Harry and Ron followed with Harry's, climbing all the way to Ron's room in the attic. Molly bent to open the door of Hedwig's cage, allowing the elegant creature to stretch her wings and soar off to join Errol and Pigwidgeon, the Weasley owls.

"Arthur, really, I don't know what possessed you to bring home that contraption!"

"Molly, it's the most extraordinary thing! There's nothing like it in the wizarding world!"

"Of course there isn't! It's ridiculous! And you don't even know how to use it!"

"Not yet I don't, but naturally that's why I wanted to show it to Harry and Hermione. I'm sure they have seen one before."

"Oh, Arthur, the children are here to visit Ron and Ginny, they don't want to have to take time to help you with your silly -" The descent of thunderous footfalls broke her momentum as the four younger witches and wizards returned from upstairs. Arthur's face lit up to see them approaching, and Molly softened upon noticing it. "Oh, all right. But at least hold your pestering until after they've had their tea."

Molly, Arthur, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny sat at the table while a teapot and a series of trays circled the group, serving each in his or her turn. While they ate and drank, Harry and Hermione were updated on the lives of the elder five Weasley children. Bill, the eldest, was still enjoying his work as a curse-breaker for Gringotts in Egypt. His girlfriend, Fleur Delacour (Ron still tinged slightly pink at the ears at the mention of her name) had spent the summer visiting him. Apparently, Bill had been saving up to buy a beautiful ring he had already picked out, and hoped to be asking Fleur a certain question when they saw each other again at Christmas. Charlie continued his work with dragons in Romania, and sent greetings from Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback that Hagrid had hatched in his hut during Ron's first year. He also sent greetings to Hermione from his boyfriend, Viktor Krum. Harry was amused to note that Ron no longer fumed with jealousy at the mention of the Bulgarian Quidditch player's name, now that the Seeker was obviously not going to be competition for Hermione's affections. Percy's insufferable brown-nosing had earned him a position as a high-level secretary at the Ministry, and his young wife Penelope was expecting their first child in January. Fred and George were starting to see impressive profits from their entrepreneurial venture, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and frequently sent their parents a share of their earnings. They were expected to visit in a few days. Harry and Hermione both grinned at the prospect of seeing the twins: life was never dull with Fred and George nearby.

As the meal finished up and the dishes cleared themselves, Molly caught Arthur eyeing her as if for permission. She offered him a small, gentle smile. He truly did so much to make her happy, and she secretly thought his habit of collecting Muggle artifacts was rather cute.

Arthur beamed. "Now, Ron and Ginny, I hope you won't mind if I borrow your friends for a short time while the sun is still up?" Ron and Ginny smiled at each other; they knew what surprise their father had in store and were almost as excited about it as he was. Harry and Hermione had time to exchange an apprehensive glance before Arthur looked at them and continued, "I've made an exciting new addition to my Muggle artifacts, and I need you two to teach me how to use it. Will you help me?"

Harry looked distinctly nervous at this; his previous experience with one of Mr. Weasley's Muggle artifacts had been memorable to say the least.

Curiosity got the better of Hermione, though, and she asked, "What is it, Mr. Weasley?"

It was obvious that he had been hoping for just this question. "Last weekend, I went for a walk in Ottery St. Catchpole, and I saw it behind a shop. So I asked, and can you believe, they were going to throw it away. They let me have it for free! I couldn't believe it! My very own Sickelbick!" Arthur and his children beamed expectantly at the two visitors, whose eyes met in confusion.

Harry stammered, "I'm sorry, a what did you say?"

"Oh dear," murmured Arthur, "I must have got the name wrong. Well," he continued with spirits not at all dampened, "you'll have to come outside and see for yourselves!" He sprang from the table and dashed out the door, followed by all five of the remaining Weasleys and guests. Even Molly couldn't suppress her curiosity.

Hermione swallowed a giggle and Harry choked back a burst of laughter when they laid eyes on the source of their host's excitement: it was going to be fun teaching Mr. Weasley, but to imagine the fully grown wizard riding this, with its pink paint job (complete with white and lavender daisies), giant white banana seat, tasselled handle bars and flowered basket. The mental image was hilarious.

"Oh!"exclaimed Hermione. "A bicycle."

"Isn't that what he said?" replied a perplexed Ron, earning himself one of Hermione's more superior glances.

After his initial mirth, Harry's face fell. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I don't know how to ride a bicycle." Of course, he had had to learn all there was to know about maintaining and repairing Dudley's bikes, but had never been allowed to ride them himself. By the time Dudley was finished with one, it was usually too squashed to be of use.

"That's all right, Harry, I had thought maybe you didn't." Arthur gave the boy's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Hermione?"

"Yes, I know how. But you'll need to change into Muggle clothes before I can teach you. Your robes are likely to get caught in the chain."

Arthur's face brightened still more, nearly eclipsing the late-afternoon summer sun. "I'll be right back!" He ran back into the house.

Ron rolled his eyes and smiled at his friends, especially the one who was now walking around the new machine, pressing a thumb into its tires and kneeling to examine something that looked like a crank low in the center, between the wheels. He watched as Hermione grasped the seat and lifted the entire back end of the bike, then turned the crank with her other hand, causing the wheel to rotate. Her face was deep in thought, her lower lip gripped lightly between her teeth, in a way he recognised from hours watching her study at the library. She nodded, obviously satisfied with whatever she had discovered, then looked up, catching him staring.

Hermione chuckled inwardly at the obviousness of Ron's interest, but didn't let on that she'd noticed. "It seems to be in good shape." She looked down at her jeans, and decided the legs were a bit too flared for safety. Since she hadn't taken her licensing test yet, she knew she mustn't perform any magic herself, though. A quick explanation to Molly yielded what she needed: a binding charm on each ankle held the material in close enough not to get snagged. Then she swung a leg over the bike, flicked back the kickstand and placed a foot on one pedal. With a push from the other foot, she was rolling.

Even on this out-of-fashion throwback, Hermione loved the feel of riding a bike. The only thing better was flying on a broom. She pedaled faster, then tapped one foot lightly backward to apply the brakes, slowing at about twenty metres' distance from her waiting friends. Bringing the handlebars around, Hermione made a U-turn and raced back to the group, the wind pulling fingers through her hair. She stopped in front of the smiling faces, a light, rosy tinge to her cheeks.

"Mr. Weasley! Are you ready to give it a go?" The elder wizard had returned while she was riding away, and now looked to be barely containing his excitement.

Hermione dismounted and turned the bike around to be pointing down the path again. She stood straight and surveyed the garb of her host. His outfit perfectly fit what she privately termed 'bachelor Muggle professor': tweed jacket, striped brown tie, button-down shirt, dun-coloured dress pants and sensible shoes.

She spoke again to Mr. Weasley, careful to be respectful. Despite seeming a little silly in his zeal, he was her elder, and her host. "You might be more comfortable without your jacket and tie, and your trouser cuffs need - Mrs. Weasley, would you do that charm again, please?" Molly assisted happily, and Arthur jumped slightly as each of his cuffs bound itself tightly around its respective ankle. Hermione smiled. "Trust me, that will make it much easier. She did mine, too, see?" And she raised a leg to show him.

Arthur nodded, with a noticeable hint of bewilderment, and Hermione beckoned him over. "Here, stand next to the bicycle, like that, good. Now swing one leg over, so that you're sitting on the seat." Hermione stifled a giggle, realising that this bike that was a perfect fit for her was comically undersized for the taller wizard. She couldn't wait to see Ron have a go. "That's all right, standing over the seat is good, too, you can sort of sit down from there. Yes. Now the most important thing is how to stop." Hermione noticed her student's impatience increase, and quickly went over braking and steering, emphasising the importance of moving at a reasonable speed until he was comfortable enough with the balance that he wouldn't fall.

"Okay, now I'm going to hold on to one side of your handlebars and run next to you until you have got going. Remember to keep pedaling forward until you want to stop, then tap lightly backward. Okay?"

"He's got it already, Hermione, let him have a go!" Ron bellowed enthusiastically.

Hermione grinned at Arthur, who now faced with the moment, gave her a look of extreme trepidation. "Don't worry, you're a wizard. If you break any bones, we'll get you mended right up." She looked up at Molly, who nodded her assent.

"Not a problem, Hermione! Do you think my boys would have survived to see Hogwarts if I hadn't learnt quite a bit of Medical Magic?" called Molly from behind her children. She was laughing, despite herself. Hermione had made it look so easy to ride this bicycle contraption, she was sure Arthur was in good hands.

"Here I go! Wish me luck!" Arthur pushed off as Hermione had done, and began rolling down the path, his instructor running alongside.

After a few steps, Hermione gave a small yelp of glee - "You've got it!" - and let go.

Arthur's smile had grown so great he was surprised the top half of his head didn't fall off. He was almost flying, and without having done any "modifications" like he had with that Ford Anglia years earlier. "This is amazing!" he called back to his family, turning his head to make sure his voice reached them. "You've all got to have a -"

THUNK.

Time froze. For a moment, everything was flying limbs, wheels and gravel. Harry and the other Weasleys stood stock still in horror. Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears. Arthur was lying immobile on the ground, the bike flipped over on top of him.

Seconds later, though it felt like millennia, Arthur raised his grinning face to his shocked family. Molly rushed to his side, afraid of what she would find. "Oh, Arthur, I never should have let you - oh you're all scratched up, oh dear -" She set to healing his scratches immediately. There were surprisingly fewer than she had initially thought.

Arthur let out a great cackle of laughter. "That was brilliant!" He grabbed the bike and jumped back on, pushing off before anyone could reach to stop him. Harry, Ron and Ginny remained as immobile as if their father had hit them all with a Petrificus Totalus charm.

"I thought he was dead," stammered Ginny. Harry and Ron could only nod to concur.

Hermione came running back, distraught. "Oh Ron," she cried, "I'm so sorry, I never thought he would -"

"Sh, Hermione." Ron encircled her with a comforting arm, as if he had done so every day of his life. Trying to ignore the pounding of his heart at feeling her so close, he raised a gentle hand to her cheek and turned her face to look back down the path. "I think he's going to be just fine."

As all four friends watched, Arthur Weasley pedalled faster, lavender and pink streamers gliding out from the ends of his handlebars, knees pumping high above his waist on the too-small bike. He slowed into a shaky, wide but successful turn, and sped back toward his frowning wife, who waited breathlessly with her hands on her hips.

"Arthur! Of all the foolish things, you could have been killed -"

"Shush, Molly dear. Let me take you for a ride."

Hermione allowed herself to ease into the hesitant laughter of her friends. She felt a strange sense of pride as Molly tucked her robes carefully around her legs, Binding them there safely, and climbed precariously onto the back of the banana seat behind her husband. The cautious mother let out a joyous whoop! as the two rolled away down the path. Ron's arm tightened briefly around Hermione's shoulders in a light hug, bringing her attention back to where she was standing.

Ginny's voice sounded from behind them - "Ridiculous!" - but she was giggling. "The way they're carrying on, you'd think neither of them had ever ridden a broomstick."

"Yeah," Ron spoke close to Hermione's ear, making the skin on her neck prickle slightly. "How could one of those Muggle things compare to flying?"

Hermione nudged her elbow teasingly into his ribs. "You tell me, Weasley. It's your turn next."

Harry and Ginny joined Hermione's laughter as Ron turned white and stared in horror after his disappearing parents.