Instead of traveling the Muggle way, we opted for the Floo Network this time—mostly for convenience, partially because Arthur was still suspended from work and Molly didn't trust him not to crash into a chimney.
One by one, we stepped up to the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, tossed in a pinch of green powder, and shouted, "The Burrow!"
When it was my turn, I grabbed the Floo powder, stepped into the grate with all the confidence of a man who had never done this before, and sneezed.
"Th-B-Brook--BURROOO!" I hacked.
The green flames flared, and the world spun sideways. I landed face-first in a pile of dusty logs and soot. The air smelled like honey, ink, and cabbage.
I coughed, rolled over, and looked up into the blinking eyes of a girl about my age with long blonde hair, a radish-shaped earring, and the dreamiest expression I'd ever seen.
"Oh," she said serenely. "Are you joining us for dinner?"
Before I could reply, a man with wild white hair and a mustache that could have been used as a small broom appeared behind her. "I believe the Blibbering Humdingers were expecting you. They've been restless all week."
I blinked. Twice. Still coated in ash.
"Where... am I?" I croaked.
"The Rookery," the girl said happily. "I'm Luna. This is my father, Xenophilius."
"Right," I said slowly. "Definitely not the Burrow."
"Could be a Helio Empath scramble," her father said, already scribbling on a floating napkin.
"Or a Magipathic redirect," Luna added helpfully.
They started debating the nature of magical directional flux while I lay there, too emotionally bankrupt to process anything.
"Would you like soup?" Luna asked kindly.
I nodded, because I was too tired to say no.
Ten minutes later, I was seated at their table, sipping something vaguely beet-flavored, while wondering how in Merlin's name I was going to explain this to anyone.
Eventually, Luna pointed at the fireplace and said, "You can probably try again now. Just be careful not to sneeze."
She said it like it happened all the time.
I nodded, muttered my thanks, and stumbled back into the green flames.
This time, I enunciated clearly.
"The Burrow."
And vanished.
I hit the floor of the Burrow's kitchen in a dramatic tumble of soot and embarrassment.
"Where have you been?" Molly asked, hands on hips.
"I met the Lovegoods," I said. "Nice people. Strange soup."
Hermione let out a cry and hurled herself toward me in a tackle hug.
"Sky! Where were you?! Are you okay? You weren't answering and—oh my gosh, what is that on your robes?" she patted at my shoulder as if trying to clean me with sheer concern.
"Soup," I muttered. "Possibly beet. Possibly not."
She pulled back, frowning with worry and inspecting me like I might disintegrate.
"Seriously. What happened? You disappeared after stepping into the fireplace. Ron thought you'd exploded."
"Sneeze. Said the wrong place. Met the Lovegoods. Their fireplace was very unprepared for my entrance."
Molly, still holding a wooden spoon, peeked around Hermione. "Oh, you quite literally went one grate too far. The Lovegoods live just beyond the hill."
Hermione blinked. "You landed there?"
"Unintentionally. Though Luna did offer me soup."
Hermione looked halfway between horrified and amused. "And you took it?!"
"I was too tired to argue."
Molly laughed softly. "Well, better the Lovegoods than the Greengrasses. Come inside, dear, before your soup dries into the floorboards. Ronald! You better not have squashed the bread!"
"Wouldn't dream of it, Mum!" Ron called, already stuffing something suspiciously bread-shaped back into his pocket.
Hermione and I followed last, our arms laden with books and parcels. She looked back at me once the chaos subsided. "Sky, what are you going to do with that diary?"
"I'm going to bury it under a mountain of steel and run several tests. Later." I paused, then added lightly, "Don't worry, I'll be safe. Probably."
Inside, the Burrow was its usual whirlwind of cozy chaos.
Crocheted doilies warred with extendable ears on every surface. Percy glared at me like I was the cause of inflation. I gave him a thumbs up.
He still didn't like the fact that I was running a business in an educational institution.
After dinner—where Ron nearly swallowed a chicken bone whole trying to ask if Harry really posed for the bookstore photo—I made my way to the room the twins had cleared out for me.
And that's when I began. Quietly. Methodically. I pulled out parchment, notes, and everything I'd gathered so far for the Neverending Guide. I wasn't just cataloging magic. I was building a future-proof system.
Hermione joined me later, hair up and eyes burning with curiosity.
"I still can't believe we're doing this," she whispered.
"Neither can I," I said, looking around at the chaos and peace that defined the Burrow.
But the future was coming. And I needed to be ready.