You land in the burrow, home of the Weasleys

So lost in your own thoughts that you actually stumble as your feet make contact with the ground again. Regaining your balance quickly; you look up to discover that Dumbledore hasn't returned you to Hogwarts as you'd expected. You can't stop the smile from spreading across your face as the soda can clatters uselessly to the ground; you're on the front lawn of the Burrow!

Dusk has already fallen but light is clearly visible coming from the windows so somebody is surely home. As surprised as you are to find yourself here; it's actually a larger surprise that you feel as relieved as you do. Aside from Hogwarts itself, the Borrow feels more like 'home' than Number 4, Privet Drive ever did. And frankly, you'd rather be here than at Hogwarts anyway. At least at the moment.

You hadn't been looking forward to trying to break your strange terminal illness to your two best friends. Come to think about it, a disease in which you will visibly shrink until you just blink out of existence isn't going to be an easy thing to hide. You're first few years at Hogwarts were marked by frequent encounters where witches or wizards of all ages would meet you as if you were some sort of celebrity. Oh, they were certainly cheerful enough about it; but they always asked the same questions and always were peering at the scar on your forehead. Just as that had finally started to pass; being the only person to actually see the return of Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament returned you to the lofty status of magical oddity. Joy.

And now, as your 'lucky' streak continued, you'd been struck with this strange and apparently deadly disease. You could almost hear Malfoy's snide remarks now. You sighed heavily as you trudged up the final few steps to the Burrow's front door. Lost in your own thoughts you reached automatically for the door handle only to find yourself groping blindly. Looking around in surprise, it's not were it should be. You actually look back and forth a few times before your eyes finally rise up and find the handle approximately level with your forehead.

"Oh, no," you breath as you fill dread. You take a step back and truly focus on the Burrow for the first time since your arrival. "Oh, no," you say again, with growing irritation now. It's already begun. Judging from the size of the door, not to mention your clothes; you guess you've got to be roughly half your normal height.

Well this is just perfect. Yes, it will definitely take Ron and Hermione a long time to realize that somethings different about you. Why couldn't you have gotten some slightly more livable disease; like one where your entire face became a huge giant zit! It would STILL be less noticeable than this! The first time Ron asks what it's like shrinking you're going to punch him right in the nose...er... stomach... er... shin... whatever you could reach.

Suddenly feeling much less happy about being here you decide to knock instead which you proceed to do. You hear a female voice moving towards the door. "Just a moment! Coming!" A moment later the door swings open and there stands Mrs. Weasley who looks rather confused as she stares directly over your head. "Uh... hello?" she says as she looks left and right.

"Um... hello Mrs. Weasley," you try casually. The sudden voice from almost directly beneath her nose causes her to jump with alarm.

"Oh!" she says as she finally set's eyes on you. Surprise quickly dominates her face as she looks you over but after a moment it passes and a huge smile replaces it. "Harry!" she says obviously pleased to see you and she rushes forward to give you a hug.

You smile back, knowing full well you're just going to have to grin and bare it. You soon find yourself enveloped in a hug as she pulls you close. You've been taller than Mrs. Weasley for some time so the sudden sensation of having her massive bosom resting heavily on the top of your head is strange at best. You find yourself having to reign your thoughts in before they move into more 'unusual' areas. Finally she breaks the hug and ushers you inside.

"I'm afraid Arthur's working late tonight so you probably won't see him," she says as she casually pulls out her wand and begins adjusting your robes so you don't look like a ten year old wearing his fathers clothes. "Dumbledore already sent Arthur and I a letter letting us know what's going on," she continues, "I'm sure that Dumbledore will figure it out Harry. There's really no reason to worry." She smiles warmly as she finishes with your robes but you still notice the concern behind her eyes. She's worried. She should be. You certainly are!

"I must admit thought, you do look pretty cute like this Harry,dear" she says as her thoughts seem to briefly drift elsewhere, "you know, if I were just a few years younger..." But you don't find out what as she suddenly shakes the thought away before laughing nervously at you. "Well anyway, supper's almost ready!"

Supper itself it delicious as usual. It's not uncommon for you to gain a few pounds during any extended visits to the borrow. And you have to admit, Mrs. Weasley does an excellent job of trying to keep your mind off of your... condition. As a bonus, you learn a number of embarrassing stories about Ron growing up that you mentally store away for a rainy day. A few times however you do catch Mrs. Weasley staring at you in a manner that you can only describe as unsettling. She's clearly thinking something about you but each time you catch her looking she shakes the thought away again before reentering the conversation. You're just glad that she doesn't say anything about your having to sit on a stack of old cookbooks to reach your normal height.

Finally you head up to bed. To your surprise you actually pass the twins Fred and George coming down the stairs and you head up.

"Sorry we can't talk now, Harry," Fred says without giving you or your diminished stature a second glance, "don't get SHORT with us, okay?"

"Yeah, Harry," George adds, " we'd stop to chat but we have a LITTLE business to attend to." And each smirking they disappear down around the bend and out of sight. You groan and and press the palm of your hand against your forehead as you envision how much 'fun' Hogwarts is going to be when you return.

Sleep doesn't come easily or well that night. When you do sleep you have the same dream again and again. You're only a few inches tall and standing encircled by your Malfoy, Snape, and Voldemort. They laugh down at you and taunt. Each making half-hearted attempts to step on you as you dive out of the way. Finally, they grow bored and, in unison, pull their wands from their robes. With a burst of green light you wake up again; bathed in sweat. Yup, your luck is in rare form today.

Finally, morning arrives and groggily you stomp your way down to breakfast.

"Good morning, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley says in an almost annoyingly cheerful voice, "I hope you slept well. I sure did; I had the most wonderful dream! You were in it actually. You were... uh... Well anyway, have some breakfast." She was giving you that look again but you're too tired to care this morning so you dig-in.

You're almost finished breakfast and actually starting to feel better about your day when an owl swoops in through the window carrying a letter. It drops the letter casually into the middle of the table (which is beyond your reach now, annoyingly) and flies out again. The letter is red in color, indicating a howler. Mrs. Weasley wastes no time in opening it and to Harry's surprise, it is Dumbledore's voice that fills the room.

"Harry Potter," he intones gravely, "I must inform you that the Ministry of Magic has become aware of your condition. They view it as necessary to place you under a keepers supervision while you continue to attend classes at Hogwarts. I am attempting to negate this unfortunate intrusion into your privacy; however I feel it only fair to advise you that you shouldn't FLEE for Hogwarts as soon as possible. Be careful Harry." With that the letter disappeared in a shower of sparks but the meaning is clear to both you and Mrs. Weasley. Dumbledore had stressed the 'flee' not 'shouldn't.' You can only assume that you're keeper is already on their way there and if your previous dealing with the Ministry are any indication; you aren't going to enjoy whoever they're sending.

Within moments you've grabbed what few items you had brought to the Burrow and were already headed for the door. With a quick, if slightly awkward goodbye, to Mrs. Weasley you tug on the large doorknob only to find yourself staring at..."