Ted's words made Hermione smile.
Ted pulled Hermione to sit down, served some snacks, and then enthusiastically shared how he and Jerry started their business in Diagon Alley.
Hermione listened intently, eyes full of curiosity and admiration.
"That sounds amazing," she said with a sigh.
She couldn't help but envy Ted's life.
She wished she could stay in Diagon Alley too, surrounded by magic every day.
Her summers were far less exciting.
A short trip with her parents, followed by long, uneventful days at home.
Amusement parks and libraries, once her favorite places, now felt dull.
Magic was what she truly longed for—she wanted it more than anything.
Before long, the time they had arranged with Neville and Ron arrived.
Ted led Hermione to the bar lobby, where they settled at a small round table, waiting.
A flash of green fire erupted in the fireplace, and out stumbled a boy with a shock of red hair.
"Hey, Ron, over here!" Ted called, raising his hand.
Ron grinned widely. "Ha! Ted! Hermione! It's so good to see you!"
He practically bounced over to them, clearly thrilled.
Partly because he had missed his friends, and partly because he had successfully navigated the Floo Network without ending up in the wrong place—a mistake he had made too many times before.
"I heard you started a business in Diagon Alley? Tell me everything!" Ron said eagerly, plopping into a seat.
"The twins made a fortune because of it, and I need to know how!"
Ted chuckled. "It's a long story, but let's just say, even the junk in the attic might have some worth."
Before he could continue, some eavesdropping wizards at the nearby tables chimed in, eager to discuss the wonders of fully automated magical trading.
Ted, sensing a storm of unsolicited opinions, quickly pulled Ron and Hermione toward the basement to escape the overenthusiastic crowd.
Soon after, Neville arrived via Floo at the Leaky Cauldron.
Being the Boy Who Lived meant he was immediately recognized.
A crowd of wizards swarmed him, eager to shake his hand and exchange words.
Ted, alerted by Anzu, wasted no time in rescuing him.
He led his friends out of the throng and into the backyard, where Neville finally let out a breath of relief.
"That was terrifying," he admitted.
"Maybe I should start wearing a disguise."
"Or just wave and enjoy the attention," Ron suggested, clearly envious.
He would have loved to be the center of such admiration.
Next, Ted and the group went to pick up Jerry, who was tending their stall.
A "Closed for Business" sign was placed on the counter, and outside the apothecary, a flashy banner caught their attention:
[Double the value! Real or fake, we'll tell you! First 20 customers each day get 20% off on appraisal fees!]
The friends exchanged glances.
"Merlin's floral underpants?!" Ron gasped.
"What kind of ad is this? I kind of want to check it out now!"
Laughing, they settled in at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, each ordering a generous portion.
As they enjoyed their treats, the conversation turned to their summer experiences.
Ron and Hermione groaned about their dull holidays, while Neville recounted the intense training his grandmother had forced upon him.
"And let me tell you," he said dramatically, "the training just gets harder every year."
Ted and Jerry were the only ones with exciting stories to tell.
Neville sighed.
"I really envy you guys. If only I could…" He hesitated before shaking his head.
"Nope, I couldn't. Too many people make me nervous. I'd mess it all up."
Ted and Hermione exchanged knowing looks before trying to reassure him.
"The more you experience, the easier it gets," Ted said.
Neville shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I've just accepted my fate."
Then, as if remembering something dreadful, his face paled.
"Speaking of my fate… something truly awful happened to me this holiday!"
Ron, in the middle of a bite, nearly dropped his spoon.
"What happened?" he asked, mouth still half-full of ice cream.
Neville groaned. "I barely had any free time as it was, and on top of that, some house-elf I've never seen before kept harassing and threatening me!"
When he heard about the strange house-elf, Ted's mind immediately jumped to a familiar plot from the original book.
Could it be that, despite all the changes, the butterfly effect hadn't even affected Dobby?
Neville continued, looking uneasy.
"Just yesterday, that house-elf appeared while I was heading to the bathroom. It told me I should drop out of school, that there was some big conspiracy waiting for me. Scared me half to death..."
He didn't go into detail—but the truth was, Neville had been practicing spells outside and had stepped into the bushes to relieve himself when, out of nowhere, a house-elf appeared behind him.
Imagine it: barely a meter tall, with eyes the size of tennis balls protruding from its face, a tiny, inverted-triangle-shaped head, a long nose, drooping ears, a tattered pillowcase for clothing, and bare feet.
Now add a high-pitched voice speaking of dark conspiracies—right behind you while you're trying to take a piss.
Neville had almost wet his robes instead!
"A house-elf? Doesn't everyone have those? Do you know who it was?" Ron asked, intrigued.
Neville shook his head frantically. "No idea! Never seen it before!"
At that moment, a voice called out from the distance:
"Hermione! Ted! Neville! Ron! Jerry!"
They turned to see Harley approaching, flanked by Sirius and Olivia Black.
After a few words with them, Harley strode toward the group, her usual confident grin in place.
"Ha! We meet again! How was your holiday?" she asked, plopping down into a chair before promptly stealing a large bite of Hermione's ice cream without the slightest hesitation.
"Hey!" Hermione protested.
Harley ignored her, raising a hand.
"Oi, boss! Get me a vanilla—make it a big one!"
Sirius, watching his daughter joke and laugh with her friends, felt a mix of pride and nostalgia.
It was bittersweet—Harley was growing up, spending less time at home, and more time with her friends.
Olivia gently squeezed his arm.
"She's getting older, Sirius. She needs her own space."
Meanwhile, the group quickly forgot about Neville's bathroom horror story and focused on their ice cream.
After finishing up, they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.
As planned in their letters, today was the day they would visit the Weasley house.
Molly Weasley had extended an invitation to Ted and Jerry back in their first year, and now, taking advantage of the summer break, she had invited the whole group.
The plan was to travel to the Burrow via Floo Powder.
Ron took the lead, stepping in front of the fireplace with a deep breath, grasping a handful of the shimmering powder.
"Remember, you have to speak clearly!"
He tossed the powder into the flames, which immediately turned emerald green.
"The Burrow!" he called out before vanishing into the fire.
Neville, standing behind him, nervously muttered, "The Burrow... The Burrow..." under his breath, as if afraid he'd mispronounce it and end up Merlin-knows-where.
One by one, the friends followed suit.
When it was just Ted and Hermione left, Ted noticed Hermione fidgeting slightly.
He smiled, offering his hand.
"Let's go together."
Hermione hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand, and they stepped into the fireplace together.
"The Burrow!"
The green flames engulfed them, and the sensation of being pulled through space took over.
The world spun violently for a few seconds before they were spat out into a completely different setting.
"Come on, out you go! The fireplace is covered in soot!" came Molly Weasley's familiar, motherly voice.
With a wave of what looked like a feather duster, she dusted them off, instantly removing the ash from their robes.
"Welcome! Welcome to the Burrow, Ted! And Hermione!" she greeted warmly, pulling them both into a brief hug.
The rest of the group was already there, chatting excitedly.
Aside from the usual friends, the Burrow was bustling with Weasley family members—Peggy, the twins, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley were all present.
Now, with 10 kids in the house, the Burrow hadn't been this lively in years!
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Word count: 1463
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