Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Nine

Of Legal Age

The days spent on the island passed quickly, as summer days often do. After a few days of rest and relaxation, Harry began his training routine once again. Since his health hadn’t completely been restored, he’d had to begin slowly. He started by taking short runs along the beach. Aberforth was right – running in the sand was different, and Harry’s calf muscles protested vigorously. Still, he found he really enjoyed the solitude of the early morning runs and hearing the roar of the waves and calls of the birds while he ran. He rose with the sun in order to complete his run before anyone else awoke. In times to come, whenever Harry would look back on his time spent on the island, it was always with fondness and a sense of peace.

He and Abe fenced daily, and often Remus would join them, as well. Harry’s skills had far surpassed Remus’s, and Harry would beat him every time. He got a taste of what Ron must feel like when playing chess, and he enjoyed it. Tonks and he would spar in the martial arts, with Abe giving instructions as they did. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione also joined in on this part of Harry’s training. As the weeks went by, Harry regained most of his lost muscle and began to look fit and healthy once again. After screaming when she caught sight of his scorched skin that first day, Mrs. Weasley was very careful and vigilant about applying his Sunblock Charm, and his skin had browned darker than it had ever been. The tan made his eyes stand out even brighter, and Ginny was quite pleased with the result.

Despite all the physical training, he was frustrated by the inability to use his magic. He’d been studying a number of spells that he was anxious to try, and he kept a rather large notebook full of the ones that interested him. Cordelia, who was extremely adept at potion-making, gave him extra Strengthening Potions that tasted remarkably better than anything Snape or Madam Pomfrey had ever given him. She was a Healer by trade and kept a watch on his magical reserves. She confided in him that the sea air was doing its job, and he was healing at a much faster rate than she’d expected. She told him that after he turned seventeen, she’d allow him to practice some weaker spells. He had to promise not to tell Madam Pomfrey, however.

Harry appreciated the time he got to spend with Ginny most of all. At first, when he learned that they’d be at the beach with her entire family, he thought there would be no time or opportunity for snogging sessions. How wrong he’d been; Ginny made certain of that. They made it a point each evening after dinner to go for a long walk on the beach and watch the sunset. There was a hammock in some trees near the water’s edge, where they sat and listened for the hiss of the sun hitting the water’s edge on the horizon. Holding hands, they walked for miles, enjoying each other’s company; and snogging, of course. A lot of snogging. Harry had never seen Ginny wearing so little clothing. At school, she was always well covered in heavy robes, but at the beach, her main attire consisted of a swimsuit. Harry found he liked the beach very much.

Ginny taught him how to swim during the first few days they were there. He knew the basics; he just needed a little practice. She was very patient with him as he tried to hide his nervousness.

“You have to trust me, Harry. I promise I won’t let go. Learning to simply float is the most important part and the rest will follow. Just lie your head back and I’ll keep my hand on your lower back. Pretend like you’re going to take a nap in the water,” she said forcing his head back.

He found he greatly enjoyed the lessons, mostly because of how much time he got to spend in the water with her touching him. It was very difficult not to get distracted from what they were really supposed to be doing. In just a few days, he was swimming with the rest of them. Harry was very proud that they had accomplished that together.

Keeping his word, Abe taught Harry how to drive the boat. The first day they went out, both Ginny and Charlie decided to come along; they wanted to learn, as well. Harry felt like he knew Charlie the least of all the Weasleys, so he was glad to get some time to know him. Charlie was probably the most athletic of all his siblings and had a fierce competitive spirit to go along with it. Abe showed them the basics of driving the boat; it wasn’t difficult, really. He taught them how to read the buoys – right on red when returning to the harbor – and more importantly, how to maneuver in the waves. Harry loved the speed, and soon he and the two Weasleys were trying to outdo each other on who could give the most thrilling ride. Abe didn’t seem to mind; in fact, he encouraged it.

Harry loved being on the boat and tried several times to convince Ron to join them, but Ron kept coming up with feeble excuses. Ginny teased him unmercifully about feeling seasick.

“I’m not seasick, I just like my feet where I can see what’s under them,” Ron insisted.

Charlie reminded Harry of Ron; they were actually very similar in a lot of ways, although Charlie didn’t seem to have Ron’s temper. When it was Charlie’s turn at the wheel, Harry wasn’t above using his trump card. He’d pull Ginny to the back of the boat and begin kissing her, which always distracted Charlie. Charlie, of course, had caught on to what Harry was doing but still couldn’t seem to ignore it. Both Harry and Ginny knew this and used it to their complete advantage. Abe was amused by their antics and began giving Charlie play-by-plays of what was going on behind him, often with great exaggeration.

Harry was quite proud of himself for being able to tease Charlie this way. He was still fairly uncomfortable with physical displays, but he’d come a long way since he’d started dating Ginny. The fact that he was able to kiss Ginny in front of her brother – even if it was just to slip Charlie the mickey – was a huge milestone for him. He had Ginny to thank for that; snogging her had multiple benefits. By the end of July, all three could captain the boat with ease, but continued their lessons simply for the enjoyment of being on the water.

Harry had noticed Ron’s continued distemper and recklessness. His temper was so volatile that no one was ever certain whether to approach him or not. He joined them on the beach, but could never just sit still in the sand; he had to keep moving. Harry made certain to arrange times for him and Ron to slip away, so Ron could practice Apparating. Ron’s only condition on practicing was that they keep it secret from Hermione. Harry knew that Hermione would love to help, but he could also understand how her enthusiasm for learning could be daunting. Harry agreed, and hoped that Hermione would be so thrilled when Ron passed his test that she wouldn’t be too upset by their hiding it from her.

It wasn’t difficult to get time away from Hermione, anyway, since she had made it her mission to free Ricket and Talia, Cordelia’s two house-elves. The first day at the Bungalow, Hermione had told Cordelia all about S.P.E.W. and her feelings on liberating the house-elves. For her part, Cordelia listened patiently before pointing out the flaws in Hermione’s thinking. Neither Ricket nor Talia would go anywhere near Hermione and would flee whenever she entered a room. Their behavior didn’t faze Hermione at all, and she continued with her efforts to sway Cordelia on a daily basis.

“They simply need to be shown that the way they are living is oppressive. They need to be taught to stand up for themselves,” Hermione insisted.

Harry could see that Cordelia was fond of Hermione, but had no intention of freeing her house-elves. He decided to stay well out of that debate.

Harry couldn’t help but notice the continued and increasing tension between Ron and Hermione. Their bickering was harsher than it had ever been, and sometimes Ron’s words were more biting than could be called friendly. The previous day, Hermione had informed Ron and Harry, in her bossiest tone, that they were both suffering from some kind of stress disorder, and she began a long spiel about her plans for what to do about it. Harry got annoyed by her interference, but Ron had completely exploded. He had made Hermione cry, and Harry had to step in and tell his friend that he was out of line. It had created tension between Ron and Harry for the rest of the day, and they still hadn’t spoken.

Harry knew Ron was having difficulty accepting what he had done at Malfoy Manor. He was wondering what kind of person it made him and lashing out at everyone in his frustration. Harry knew this, because it mirrored how he’d been feeling and what he’d been thinking since he first learned about the prophecy. Ron had even apologized to Harry for never noticing that Harry couldn’t swim back in fourth year. It was old news to Harry, and he tried to wave it off, but Ron seemed to be questioning his own priorities for never noticing. Harry went against orders and used a brief bit of Legilimency to try to determine Ron’s feelings. The overriding thought he picked up from Ron was the question if he was really that shallow. Harry hated to see Ron doing this to himself, but knew from experience that Ron had to work through it himself.

The nights were still the worst for Harry. Nightmares continued to plague him relentlessly. Ron had agreed to cast a Silencing Charm on their room the night they first arrived, so at least he wasn’t waking the whole house, and, for that, he was thankful. Due to the active days, the sun, and the sea air, Ron was sleeping much better, and his insomnia seemed to be cured. In fact, he slept so soundly that he rarely woke up to Harry’s screams. Unfortunately, when they went to bed at the same time, Ron usually put the lights out. Harry had to struggle to control his panic and ragged breathing until Ron fell asleep, so he could re-light the candle. Since Harry was always up before Ron, he simply blew it out again before going on his run.

As promised, Remus had been keeping him updated on what was happening with the Order. Apparently, Voldemort was stronger again, since the attacks on Muggles were on the rise. The Daily Prophet only reported sanitized versions of attacks, indicating that Fudge was still very much in control of the paper. Professor Dumbledore still hadn’t come to an agreement with Fudge on how to handle the prophecy. Fudge had threatened full disclosure in the Prophet. Harry shuddered at the thought of every witch and wizard he met knowing what he was meant for, what he had to do.

One morning, when Harry finished his run, he walked around the beach in front of the Bungalow while his body cooled down. It seemed empty this morning, and he wondered where everyone had gone. Today was his seventeenth birthday; he was finally of age. He kept trying to concentrate and see if he felt any different. He thought he should – after all, he was a man now – but, honestly, he didn’t notice any difference from the way he felt yesterday.

He walked into the kitchen and found Mrs. Weasley placing a light breakfast on the table. “Good morning, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, sitting down and biting into an apple.

“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling warmly. She walked towards him and kissed him on the head. “Happy Birthday.”

Harry was pleased with the greeting, and a warm feeling filled his belly. “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Where is everyone?”

“Well, Cordelia and I need to go into the village to pick up some things for your special dinner tonight. Hermione and the twins want to come along, so they’re getting ready. Bill and Jacqueline had to take care of some Order business. I’m not certain about everyone else, but they’re around somewhere.”

“Okay. I’m going to put on my swimsuit and head down to the beach. Will you tell Ron and Ginny if you see them?”

“Of course, dear. Though, I don’t want you to go in that water if you’re down there alone. Wait until somebody else is with you,” Mrs. Weasley said, placing both hands on her hips.

Harry grimaced; she’d been frantic when she heard about Harry’s near drowning. He knew she meant well, but her hovering could be stifling. “I won’t, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, ducking out of the kitchen before she could continue her lecture.

He climbed the stairs to his room, took a quick shower, and changed into his swim trunks. He began heading out to the beach when he heard the sounds of an argument coming from behind Remus’s closed door.

“I can’t believe you’re still on about this,” Tonks’s angry voice hissed. “We’re old friends, we share a history, nothing more. You should know how it is with old friends and how well you know them.”

Harry supposed they were arguing about Charlie. Hermione had told him about the conversation she’d had with Tonks. Harry had picked up on the tight friendship between Tonks and Charlie, but hadn’t noticed it was bothering Remus.

“Yes, I know about old friends very well. Of course, I lit up my last one like a Weasley Whiz Bang.”

Harry gasped along with Tonks. Remus sounded so angry, and he was obviously still bothered about Wormtail, no matter what he had said to Harry. Suddenly, Harry really didn’t want to hear anymore of this conversation. He backed away from the door and hurried down the stairs, Remus’s angry words ringing in his ears. Harry liked Charlie, he’d had a lot of fun with him while learning to drive the boat, but he didn’t want to see Remus hurt, and he didn’t want to see Charlie come between Remus and Tonks. Tonks had been so good for Remus.

He went outside and made his way down to the water’s edge. During his time here, he’d got friendly with the two little boys from the next house, the ones who made sand castles. Harry sat with them one day and watched how they drizzled the wet sand on top of the dry to make peaks and turrets. He was fascinated and ended up sitting in the sand to work with them. Ron and the twins had teased him at first, but after a few days of Harry enjoying making the castles with the boys, all the Weasley brothers had got in on the act. They’d made enormous sand villages around castles with moats, and Charlie had, of course, added dragons.

The sun grew warmer on his back while he added designs to the walls of a fairly elaborate structure that he’d created in the sand. Harry noticed a shadow fall across his work. He looked up to find Ginny standing there with a wide grin spread across her face.

“Happy Birthday, luv,” she said, plopping down next to him and kissing him soundly on the lips.

“Was that my present?” he asked cheekily.

“Nope. Presents are for later. This one is nice,” she said, admiring his work. “Bit conservative for Weasley standards, though. If this is to be ours one day, it’ll definitely need more rooms.”

Harry spluttered and looked up sharply. Is she serious? Ginny never looked up, but continued to push the sand around absentmindedly. His face heated up, as his mind wandered with the thought of why they’d need more rooms. He sincerely hoped that his future would hold a home with her, but he also remembered the Muggle phrase about houses made of sand. Until Voldemort was defeated, he could make no real plans with Ginny, no matter how much he might like to do so. He couldn’t promise her anything for the future. He wouldn’t even joke about it with her, for her sake, because right now, he felt like his whole life was built on sand.

Harry and Ginny spent an enjoyable day together on the beach, just the two of them. He didn’t know if everyone else had left them alone as a birthday gift, but he was very grateful for it. They took a picnic to a secluded spot and let the food get cold while they snogged in the surf. Abe had given him the day off from training, and he decided it was the best birthday he’d ever had. When they finally packed up their stuff and went inside, the Bungalow was still empty.

“Where is everyone?” Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. “Maybe they’re in the drawing room; it’s tea time.” She waited for Harry to lead the way.

It was eerily quiet as Harry walked down the hall with Ginny behind him, and it unsettled him. He scolded himself for being so skittish, but couldn’t help the feeling. He thought it strange that Ginny wasn’t offering an opinion; she usually had an opinion on everything her family did.

When he pushed open the door to the drawing room, it was pitch black inside, much darker than it should have been in the middle of the afternoon. Harry still wasn’t allowed to use magic, and Ginny wasn’t of age, so she couldn’t cast an Illumination Charm, either. His palms began to sweat at the thought of entering the room, but he didn’t want Ginny to know about his new unreasonable fear of the dark. If he could just make it over to the window without panicking, he could pull the shade and let in some light.

Steeling his resolve, he bit his lip and shuffled his feet into the room. His legs felt like lead as he tried to drag them across the floor. It was as if they didn’t want to obey his commands. His heart was beating so loudly within his chest that he thought Ginny would certainly hear it and ask him what was wrong.

Without warning, the lights in the room flared, and someone jumped out towards Harry. He didn’t even hear what was said as his instincts took over. He pulled Ginny behind him, raised his other hand, and thought, ‘Stupefy’. He felt a burning heat inside him, and a bright, white light filled the room. Glass exploded everywhere as all the windows shattered. Furniture was overturned, and a harsh crackle filled the air. Harry shoved Ginny towards the door and took a step backwards. He felt a hand grasp his upper arm.

His mind flashed to another dark room – a white Death Eater mask, and curse after curse bringing unbearable pain. ‘You’ll be begging for the release of death when I’m through with you.’

“Don’t touch me,” he cried through clenched teeth, pulling into himself as he stumbled for the door. He had to escape; he had to get Ginny out of here. He wouldn’t let them touch her; she’d never have to feel that. He wasn’t going to let them near her, and he wasn’t going to go through that again.

“Harry!” Ginny yelled, shaking his arm forcefully. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She didn’t sound afraid; her voice sounded firm and demanding. His eyes darted around the room wildly, noticing the balloons and presents on the table for the first time. There was a ruined birthday cake, smashed beneath heavy panes of glass, set up on a table in the corner. As Harry’s breathing slowed, he took in the concerned faces of all the other houseguests, who were standing around him, watching him warily.

He’d just blown up his own birthday party. He felt humiliated that everyone had seen him like this, but couldn’t stop his body from trembling as it released the tension. He saw Mrs. Weasley hurry over to Fred and George, both of whom lay on the floor, unconscious from Harry’s wandless Stunning spell. He shut his eyes in embarrassment as his knees gave out, and he sank to the floor.

“Whose bright idea was it to jump out at him like that?” Ginny demanded. He could hear the fury in her voice, but he wished she wouldn’t make any more of a scene. She knelt beside him and gently caressed his face.

“I’m all right,” he whispered, his voice sounding shaky even to him. “Sorry about that.”

Ginny helped him to his feet and over to the couch. Remus sat down on his other side. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, Harry. Sirius would have been proud,” he said, smiling. Despite his joking words, Harry could see the concern shining in his eyes.

“I’m all right,” he whispered.

“No, you’re not,” Remus said, laying a gentle hand on Harry’s knee. “I should have thought of this, Harry, and I’m sorry. We are going to have to talk about some things later, though, okay?”

“Hey, mate,” Ron said, moving to stand behind Ginny. Ron hadn’t spoken to him since the argument with Hermione the day before, but looking up into his friends worried eyes, Harry knew all was forgiven.

“Hey. Thanks for the party.”

“Right. I warned the twins you didn’t like surprises, but I really never saw that coming. Blimey, Harry, you’ve got jumpy.” Ron said.

“Having someone constantly trying to kill you will do that to a person,” Ginny snapped.

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes wide and full of concern, “how do you feel after using so much magic? I realize it was unintentional, but that was a powerful spell.” Harry could tell she was caught between her concern for him and being impressed with the display.

Mrs. Weasley ennervated both Fred and George, and they sat down in chairs across from Harry while Mrs. Weasley fretted over them.

“Nice bit of wandless magic, mate,” Fred said.

“Yeah, remind me never to hack you off,” George said ruefully while rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry,” Harry said, blushing and looking down at the floor. “I overreacted.”

“Overreacted?” Ron burst out. “Is that what you call it? Bit of an understatement.”

“Lay off, Ron,” George said.

Noticing Harry’s distress, Mrs. Weasley came to his rescue and saved him from further explanation when she said, “Why don’t we move this party into the kitchen. The cake is ruined, but there’s plenty more food. I think we could all use a nice cup of tea.”

She began ushering everyone out, leaving just Harry and Ginny on the couch.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked, putting her fingers on his chin and forcing him to look at her.

“Yeah…a bit embarrassed.”

“It reminded you of Malfoy Manor, didn’t it?”

Harry tensed at her words, and he quickly darted his eyes away.

“Harry, I can feel you stiffen up at the mere mention of that place. I think you need to talk about it, luv,” she said gently.

He nodded. She was right; this had got out of control, and he needed to do something. Ignoring it wasn’t making it go away.

“Come on, let’s celebrate your birthday, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said, pulling him to his feet.

He smiled and pulled her in close. “How did I get so lucky to find you?”

“Find me? Harry, I was right under your nose for years and practically had to use a sledge hammer to get you to notice me.” Her eyes were open wide, staring at him incredulously.

He cringed at his own stupidity. “Sorry about that. I’ve always been a bit daft when it comes to girls.”

“It’s lucky you’re so sweet, luv; otherwise, I might have washed my hands of you long ago,” she said, giggling.

“You’d miss me, though,” he said with a smug smile, then couldn’t believe he’d actually said it.

She laughed and swatted his arm. “Prat.”

“I like when you call me ‘luv’,” he said suddenly. “I wish I could come up with a nickname for you.”

Still wrapped in his arms, she looked up at him. “You do have one for me, Harry. You always call me ‘Gin’; you were the first one who did that.”

“But… I’ve heard other people call you that,” he said in confusion.

“They do now, but not the way you say it. It sounds kind of…naughty when you say it.”

“Naughty?” he said, his eyes opening wide. A slow, feral grin spread across his face. “I can be naughty.”

“I know you can,” she said, laughing. “It’s part of your charm. Now, come on, everyone is waiting to celebrate your birthday.”

He held her back and leaned in for a passionate kiss. “It’s my birthday - let them wait,” he growled, claiming her lips once again.

After the initial shock, Harry had a wonderful time at his party. Everyone kept giving him concerned glances at first, but, gripping Ginny’s hand, he did his best to ignore them. Mrs. Weasley and Cordelia put out a huge spread of food, and they put a candle in a pumpkin pastie for him to blow out. Eventually, everyone relaxed, and the party went full-swing.

He opened his gifts – he’d never got so many presents in his life – while Abe blasted some music on his Muggle stereo. They all stayed up late into the night, talking, dancing and laughing. Before the party finally broke up, Cordelia pulled him aside and quickly checked him over. She said she couldn’t detect any setback from his use of magic, and that she thought he was ready to begin his training again. She gave him a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion for the night and also handed him a phial of a Calming Draught. She told him to keep it to use at his own discretion when he was feeling anxious or tense. She did it very matter-of-factly and without any pity or fuss, and, for that, Harry was grateful. He pocketed the Calming Draught and headed up to bed. Tomorrow, he would finally begin working on some of the spells he’d been learning.

The next morning, he found Abe in his study with a very grave look on his face. Harry instantly knew something was wrong. “What is it?” he asked without any preamble.

“Sit down, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said from the corner of the room. Harry hadn’t even noticed he was there until he spoke.

He sat in the offered chair, but remained tense and wary. “What happened?”

Mr. Weasley sighed deeply and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I wish I had better news, Harry, but there was a devastating Death Eater attack just outside London last night.”

Harry sat back in the chair, absently running his hand along his scar. He hadn’t felt anything; he wondered if that was because he was so far away. Mr. Weasley noticed the gesture and added, “According to all our reports, You-Know-Who wasn’t there, only his minions. The attack happened on a Muggle street…and it appears to be directed at you.”

Harry looked up sharply. “At me? How?”

“The name of the street was Potter Lane, seventeen houses were burned, seventeen Avada Kedavras were used, and there were seventeen Dementor attacks,” Mr. Weasley said, sighing. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. Seventeen…this was Voldemort’s way of acknowledging that Harry had reached adulthood. All those innocents suffered, because he’d had a birthday. That silent list of the names of all the victims that he kept in his head was growing by leaps and bounds.

“Don’t let him get to you, lad,” Abe said, roughly shaking Harry’s shoulder. “It’s exactly what he’s trying to do. You need to stay focused on the task at hand. Cordelia tells me your reserves are at full strength, so we begin your magical training today.”

Harry nodded, trying to ignore the sick feeling threatening to turn his stomach. “Okay.” This was it; he needed to get serious. He’d wounded Voldemort the last time; he had to prepare to ensure that the next time they met would be the last.

Abe nodded in approval and stood up; Mr. Weasley gave Harry’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “I honestly wish this wasn’t all laid upon you, Harry, but I truly believe you’re up to the task,” he said before leaving them to begin. Mr. Weasley’s confidence in him pleased Harry, and he felt a little of the coldness that had seeped into his soul warm up and dissolve.

He and Abe had spent most of the day practicing spells. Harry hadn’t used any magic in a long time, so he was rusty and needed to improve his concentration. Thoughts of the attack and what the Order was doing kept distracting him, and he found it difficult to focus. He could feel the tension in the whole house and assumed everyone was walking on eggshells.

When he and Abe finished for the day, Harry left the study and found Ron, Fred, George and Charlie waiting for him. “Come on, Harry. Grab a sweatshirt, and let’s go. We’re going out,” Charlie said.

Harry looked at them all in confusion. “Going out where?”

“Weasley family tradition when a brother becomes a man. We didn’t get to take Ron, because he was in school when he turned seventeen, so we’re taking you both tonight,” answered Fred.

“Taking us where?” Harry asked warily. He didn’t trust the twins, but he was both touched and honored to be included as a brother.

“Well, there is no place to get firewhiskey; the village is all Muggle,” George said. “But there are plenty of Muggle bars, and that’s where we’re going.”

“We’re going to complete the transformation,” Charlie said, grinning. “After tonight, you and Ron will be men.”

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes at his brother’s theatrics. Still, Harry couldn’t help grinning; a night out with the Weasley boys sounded like fun.

Abe refused to let them take the boat, stating that neither Harry nor Charlie was ready to drive it after a night out drinking, but he added that if they walked up the beach about a mile, there was a little shanty that would serve them. The five of them headed off towards the bar, scowling at Abe for his lack of faith.

The bar was a dodgy-looking place – just a shack set back off the beach in some trees. As the boys entered, they found several locals and tourists alike drinking colorful drinks with umbrellas in them. They sat down at a booth and examined their surroundings.

“Charlie,” Fred said. “Have you ever had a Muggle drink?”

Charlie smiled and crossed his arms behind his head. “Out on the dragon reserve, we can’t always get firewhiskey. Muggle alcohol is readily available, so, yes, I’ve had a fair bit of it. Just leave it to me.” He walked up to the bar and placed orders for all of them.

George watched him with apprehension. “I think we’re about to be had.”

“He thinks he can drink us all under the table,” Ron said, sounding like he was an expert at holding his alcohol. “It’s time someone put Charlie in his place.”

Fred snorted. “And you think you’re the one to do it?”

Ron shrugged. “One of us should be able to do it. You two talk enough about your exploits, and Harry and I can handle ourselves.”

Harry remained silent. He’d only had alcohol once before, and, as he recalled, he hadn’t handled it very well at all.

Charlie returned to the table with a tray full of shots and handed them to the others.

“Here’s to welcoming our brothers to manhood,” Fred declared solemnly.

“Here, here,” the others chorused before they all tipped back their glasses and emptied them.

Ron spluttered and coughed while he gasped for air. George patted him on the back in amusement. Harry felt his eyes watering as the burning sensation went down his chest, but he kept his composure and slammed his glass back on the table like the others. He was rather proud of himself for handling the liquor better than Ron. He was still much shorter and slighter than his friend, so being able to take the shot better pleased him.

Charlie handed out another round. “Let’s try this again, little brother,” he said, shoving Ron in the shoulder.

Ron’s ears colored, and he glared at Charlie. “Give me that,” he snapped, grabbing another glass.

“To island vacations – I only wish we could have brought more girls,” Fred said, raising his glass in a toast. He and Angelina had broken up a few months ago. She was touring with her band, and they’d drifted apart. Fred didn’t seem upset with the breakup, and the two were still very friendly. Fred had wasted no time before playing the field since the split, however.

Again, they all tipped their heads back and swallowed the amber liquid. Harry was filled with a pleasant warmth, and he finally felt some of the tension that he’d carried all day leave him. Ron handled the shot better this time; Harry saw his eyes watering, but he didn’t cough. Ron raised his eyes to meet Harry’s, and they grinned at each other.

“Where are Ginny and Hermione?” Harry asked. “How come they didn’t want to come?” He hadn’t seen Ginny all day, and he missed her, although he didn’t want to admit that to her brothers.

“We didn’t invite them,” said George. “This is a Weasley male tradition. Dad took Bill, Bill took Charlie, they both took Percy, and so on. It was our duty to initiate you.”

“So, what happens when Ginny turns seventeen?” Harry asked.

The twins knitted their eyebrows for a moment, then shrugged in unison. “I suppose Mum will take her out,” Fred said. “Knowing Ginny, she’ll handle her alcohol better than Ronniekins, here.”

“Hey!” Ron said, swatting Fred’s poking finger away. George went to get another round of drinks while they all continued to swipe and tease each other. As the time passed, Harry began to relax and take part in the ribbing. He suddenly found everything the Weasleys said extremely funny and couldn’t stop laughing at them. Ron had started to slur his words, and Charlie kept imitating him. Harry sniggered into his empty glass.

“I think Harry needs another drink,” Charlie said. “You still seem too sober.” Harry noticed that Charlie had trouble focusing on him while he talked.

“I’ve had practice; I’m not a virgin anymore,” Harry said, pleased with himself.

The Weasley brothers all choked and spit out their drinks. They looked at him in alarm, their eyes widening like saucers. Harry could see Ron’s expression darkening, and he couldn’t figure out why they were all looking at him that way. Confused, he scratched his head and tried to focus. Finally, it dawned on him what he had just said. He colored brilliantly, holding up his hands as if to ward them off.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” he pleaded, his eyes wide and round and darting wildly from brother to brother. “A firewhiskey virgin… you called me a firewhiskey virgin last time. I just meant…I haven’t…we didn’t…er, I mean… Snogging! All we do is snog. Ginny is a good at snogging…she does this thing to my ear, uh…er…I mean…Bloody Hell!” Harry knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t seem to stop the words from blurting out. “Just a little touching – nothing serious – I swear.”

Fred and George coughed behind their hands, laughing so hard they needed to hold each other in their chairs. Charlie's face looked like it was warring between amusement and anger. Ron, who knew Harry best of all and could read his panic a mile away, shook his head. “Harry, shut it, mate, you’re only digging yourself in deeper. I won’t let them beat you to a pulp, but it doesn’t mean I won’t do it myself.”

Harry gulped loudly and grabbed another drink. It seemed to have a calming effect on his nerves, and he felt his heart rate slowing. It wasn’t that he was scared of them, exactly, but there were four of them, and they were all bigger than he was.

“That was more information than I ever needed to know about my little sister,” George said.

“And more than I ever want to hear again. Do you understand that, Harry?” asked Fred, his lips twitching. “You may be a randy seventeen-year-old, but that’s our little sister, and we don’t want any details.”

“She’s as randy as I am,” Harry replied before slapping his hand over his mouth as if trying to pull back the words.

“Will you shut it, Harry,” Ron said, shoving another drink in Harry’s hand to keep him from talking. All of a sudden, his eyes took on a dreamy, faraway expression. “I like it when Hermione is the randy one.”

“All right, you two. Merlin, Harry, all anyone has to do is give you a drink, and you’ll spill everything,” George said.

Harry nodded mutely, afraid to open his mouth to speak. He felt like he had no control over the words that wanted to come spilling forth.

“It’s our duty as Harry’s guardians to build up his tolerance. We’re doing this for his own good,” Fred said.

“Right,” Charlie said, finally letting the anger leave his face. “It’s a tough job, but it needs to be done, and we’re up to the challenge.”

“To the end of our virginity,” George said, raising his glass in the air and causing the others to howl in glee.

“You’re not my minders,” Harry said grumpily, suddenly registering what Fred had said.

“Yeah, because you’re so capable of taking care of yourself,” Charlie said, ruffling Harry’s hair and causing him to pull back in a huff.

“I can take care of myself; it’s just this that gets me in trouble,” Harry said, jamming his finger towards his forehead. The others burst into laughter as he poked his finger repeatedly at what he thought was his scar, never realizing that he had his finger aimed at the wrong side of his forehead.

They spent several hours at the bar, sampling every kind of Muggle drink they served, until none of them could stand up straight. They held each other up as they walked along the beach towards the Bungalow, singing a song that had been on the radio in the bar. None of them had the words right and sang at different rates of tempo. Harry was happy and filled with joy; he’d had a wonderful night. Going out with the Weasley brothers was loads of fun and something he’d like to do again. He’d like it if Ginny came the next time. He really missed Ginny as they walked back along the beach. He wanted to kiss her and hoped she’d be awake when they got back. They were on the beach in front of the Bungalow when Charlie stopped walking suddenly, making the rest of them plough into him.

“What are you on about?” Ron asked angrily, barely holding himself upright. He and Harry had their arms around one another and kept getting their feet tangled as they walked unsteadily along.

“I wanna go swimmin’,” Charlie said, slurring his words.

“Great idea,” said Fred.

Both twins stripped off their clothes, threw them on the dock, and dived into the ocean; Charlie followed right behind them with a cannonball.

Ron and Harry looked at each other. “Your mum won’t be happy about this,” Harry said.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. “Then let’s get in quick so we at least get one good dunk before she tells us to stop.”

Tossing their own clothes into the pile and laughing loudly, they leapt into the ocean and promptly began a water fight while trying to dunk each other. They were all so caught up in their splashing that they didn’t notice Ginny and Hermione had come outside and were standing on the dock watching them.

“Ginny!” Ron yelled. “Go inside and take Hermione with you. We’re naked in here.”

Hermione grinned, although her cheeks were stained a bright pink. “It’s called skinny-dipping, Ron. If you didn’t want anyone to know you were out here, you should have kept the noise level down.”

The three older Weasley brothers had remained oddly silent, watching how their younger brother was going to handle this with amusement. Harry just stared at Ginny. She wore white shorts and a soft, green colored blouse that fluttered in the breeze. He thought she looked like an angel standing on the dock.

“All right, Harry?” she called to him.

“I told them we liked to snog,” he blurted out.

She started to laugh, a deep, rich, gleeful laugh that filled his senses. I made her laugh like that.

“I bet that was just what they wanted to hear. Harry, you’re pissed,” Ginny said.

“Yes, I am.”

“What do you think, Ginny?” Hermione asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I think these boys need to be taught a lesson about leaving their clothes lying around for their mother to pick up.”

Ginny giggled. “Excellent idea, Hermione. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it myself,” she said, as she helped Hermione scoop up all the boys clothing. They walked off the dock and began heading up the beach.

“Wait,” Charlie called. “Ginny, this isn’t funny. Abe and Cordelia are in there, never mind Mum.”

“Yes,” Ginny said, smiling with mischief. “And they’re all still awake. If you want your clothes, I’ll leave them right inside.”

It was only at this point that Harry realized that they’d taken his clothes, too. How am I supposed to get inside without my clothes? What’s she on about?

Fred took up Ginny’s challenge and proceeded to walk right out of the ocean completely starkers.

Ginny squealed and dropped the clothes, turning around quickly. Hermione stood frozen to the spot, appearing unable to move. Her mouth working furiously, while her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Fred calmly picked up his things and began dressing.

“Exactly what is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Weasley’s shrill voice echoed in the moonlight. “Ginny and Hermione, get yourselves inside this instant, young ladies. You, boys, get out of that water and put your clothes back on.” She turned her back while they all meekly complied.

Harry stepped out of the water and wandlessly summoned his clothing over to him. He buckled on his jeans, but struggled to get the shirt on right. Ron finally had to help him get his arm through the sleeve. Mrs. Weasley turned back around and began pacing before them. Her face was scarlet in fury.

“What were you thinking?” she shrieked. “I expect better from you. Coming back here at this hour, under the influence of entirely too much alcohol, all of you. At the home of Professor Dumbledore’s brother, no less. Do you have any idea how loud you were being? Anyone could have heard you. Using magic on the beach when you know...you know you've been expressly told not to use it where the Muggles might see. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Charlie! You’re the oldest here, how could you have allowed this? I’m certain this was your idea,” she said, pointing at the twins. She glared over at Ron and Harry, neither of whom could stand on their own and were holding each other up. “And you two should know better than to go along with them. Honestly, Ron, you’re a prefect in your headmaster’s family home. Where is your sense of responsibility?” Mrs. Weasley ranted. “Honestly, the lot of you! You weren’t brought up to drink like this. Ron, you can’t even stand up straight.”

“Harry’s pissed, too, Mum,” Ron said, earning a glare from Harry.

“I can see that,” Mrs. Weasley said, crossing her arms across her chest, “and you all ought to be ashamed of yourselves for corrupting him. He’s barely seventeen. I want you all inside and in your rooms this instant.”

All five of the boys lowered their heads and plodded inside. Harry elbowed Ron hard in the ribs. “Thanks a lot,” he hissed.

“I panicked,” Ron cried. “I knew she wouldn’t really yell at you.”

Harry stopped as the room began to swim. He had to grab onto both the wall and Ron to steady himself. “I don’t feel so good,” he mumbled.

He was never sure exactly how he got up the stairs and into his bed that night, but he did manage a full night’s sleep without the aid of a potion.

A/N: Special thanks to my good friend, Dianne for her inspiration with the sand castle scene.

I’d also like to thank my beta, Mistral, for all her efforts and advice.