Chapter 11:
Over the week, Harry had found his magic settling and he found it easy to perform magic non-verbally and sometimes wandlessly.
The letter, like Harry knew it would be, was asking for Harry to come round for lunch today. Setting it on fire without a thought after he had finished reading, Harry smirked and stood with a stretch.
Going upstairs, Harry put on a pair of black dragonhide trousers and a white shirt, over which he wore a dark emerald green robe. Wearing his robe open, Harry looked in the mirror; although simple enough, the outfit was a far cry away from what he used to wear. The clothes fit him like a glove and were obviously high quality without being overly fancy. Looking in the mirror, Harry decided to glamour his facial features to match the ones that Dumbledore's glamour gave him and changed his hair back to the bird's nest it used to be; there was no point in letting on that he knew anything about Dumbledore's manipulations too early.
"Kreacher," Harry summoned, waiting for the elf to appear. "I will be going to the Weasleys for lunch."
Kreacher nodded his head in understanding, withholding his comments like his master had asked; although, he did get the impression his master no longer liked the blood traitors.
Harry, finally ready, stepped into the floo and called out, "The Burrow."
~
The Burrow, 9th June 1998
Stepping out of the floo with as much grace as he was able, which was not much, Harry's arrival was met with immediate silence.