Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 13- Initiation, Celebration, Locomotion

That night Kingsley drove him home in another Ministry car he managed to rent. He attempted to engage Harry in conversation several times, but Harry remained silent. Even when they walked the last few miles, Harry withheld a state of reticence. He had loosened his tie when he left the court room, and was carrying his jacket draped over his arm. He couldn't forget Mr. Weasley's expression or the haunting jibes Percy made; he could only imagine how Mr. Weasley felt. Percy- that jerk was the Minister of Magic, and it was a good thing he was, or else Harry would have pounded him so hard he wouldn't have been recognizable. Percy had managed to jump from number six to number three on Harry's hate list, and that wasn't a place anyone wanted to be.

As he walked, he kicked a stone, sending it flying through the air.

"What's bothering you so much Harry?" Kingsley asked sympathetically.

"Nothing," he replied moodily, lashing out at another stone.

"It's not your fault," Kingsley said softly, causing Harry to freeze mid-step. However, he recovered quickly, continuing on as if nothing happened.

It took them several hours of walking in stiff silence before they reached Grimmauld Place. Harry's feet ached and he had rolled up his shirt sleeves in an attempt to cool off. Therefore the blast of chilled air that hit him as soon as he stepped over the threshold came as a great relief. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the steps that led up to the upper levels, waiting for him. As soon as Harry came in, they both jumped up to greet him. Hermione looked incredibly nervous and squealed slightly when she saw him, and she scurried up to him quickly, giving him a brief hug. Ron was close behind.

"Oh, thank God," she sighed. "We were so worried. It took you so long to get back. What happened? Did Percy let you off?"

"Calm down for a second Hermione," he said, smiling at her sincerity. However, his smiled faded as soon as it appeared, as he saw Ron looking desperately over his shoulder.

"Glad to see Percy didn't kill you," Ron joked. "Um, where's dad?"

Hermione looked towards the door as well, but it didn't take her long to catch on. She cast her eyes down to the floor, leaving Harry to explain.

"Well, he and Lupin were convicted mate. I'm sorry."

Ron looked at Harry like he had suddenly grown an extra head or something.

"Oh," he said so weakly Harry barely caught it. "So they'll be coming later or something? Or do they have to spend the night at the Ministry or wherever they're staying."

Harry shook his head sadly. "They'll be gone for three months, in Azkaban."

Ron almost fell to the ground. He backed slowly away from Harry, groping the air behind him until his hands closed around the stair post and he stood their confined in his disbelief, eyes never leaving the door.

"Per-Percy didn't let them off then?" he stuttered thickly.

"No, he didn't." Harry did not know what else to say. He made to move closer to Ron, but Ron just backed up the stairs, away from him.

"I'm just going to go upstairs for a bit. I'll be fine," he added, as Harry stopped moving closer to him and let him leave. "Glad to see you back though." Ron's grin was so strained that Harry wished he hadn't smiled at all. Then Ron disappeared up the stairs without another word.

Harry groaned.

"Harry, I…" Hermione said cautiously.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said sternly, heading upstairs. However, he walked right past the room he knew Ron was in, respecting Ron's privacy, and didn't stop until he reached Buckbeak's room.

"Hello again, old friend," he said, lighting the lamps before sitting on the floor, leaning against Buckbeak's sturdy form.

* * *

He didn't spend too long upstairs in solitude. After a while he remembered what Lupin said, about enjoying himself this summer, and he decided that was the best thing to do. Then he remembered the box Lupin had given him. He dug it out of his pocket, lifting off the top curiously. What he found inside surprised him, but intrigued him at the same time. Within the box rested a dull Golden Snitch. He plucked it from its spot in the box and twirled it around in his hand, examining it. Then he saw it. Scratched into the side were the initials J.P. He looked at the tiny ball in amazement. This had been his father's. Perhaps it was even the same snitch he had seen him playing with in Snape's memory. He grinned and rotated the ball in his hands, as the two wings unfolded and began to quiver rapidly. Mimicking his dad, Harry released the snitch, allowing it to fly just a few feet away from him, and then snatched it out of the air. After a few minutes of playing around with it, he discovered that by pressing on a tiny bump on the side for a few seconds, the wings retracted again, leaving the snitch a simple golden ball.

Harry couldn't stop grinning and twirling the ball around in his hand as he headed back downstairs. However, he halted outside his and Ron's room, and placed the snitch back in his pocket. Ron didn't need Harry flaunting a new item of his dad's when Ron's dad was currently locked in some cold, damp cell in Azkaban. Ron had a pretty close relationship with his dad, and they loved each other deeply. Harry knew that if Lupin hadn't instructed him to keep up a light mood, he would be thoroughly depressed as well; there was a strong sense of guilt that was gnawing at him even as he tried to remain upbeat. Still, he managed to push everything aside in order to be there for Ron.

He knocked softly on the door before creaking it open timorously and poking his head through to make sure it was a good time to come in. He found Ron sitting on his bead, back turned to the door. Although he didn't look up, Harry knew Ron was aware of his presence. He shut the door behind him and went to his own bed, sitting on its edge, waiting for Ron to speak first. He didn't wait very long.

"Look, Harry. I'm sorry if I didn't seem all too happy when you came back, because I am you know, I really am. It's just… I wasn't expecting Percy to actually convict dad."

"I understand. You have every right to be upset; if it helps at all, I couldn't believe it either. You should have seen the row they had."

This caught Ron's interest. "What'd they say?"

"Well, basically your dad blamed Percy for allowing the officials to be sent in the first place, which really ticked Percy off."

Ron grinned wickedly. "Oh, I bet it did. Percy hates being insulted."

"And then Percy went on to say all of this rubbish about your dad- essentially the same stuff he said during their last argument- but your dad stood up to him, and he didn't back down. He even chastised Percy in front of everyone for not respecting him. And when Percy did insult your dad, I could tell that a lot of the Wizengamot members wanted to put him in his place, but of course they were afraid to because they're all stupid gits who were afraid Percy would lecture them on the issues with faulty cauldrons or something if they did."

Ron joined Harry in laughing. Then Harry took on a more serious tone again.

"I tried to argue, saying they were only defending me, but it didn't work. If it's any consolation, Percy was really upset at the end of it all."

"Good," Ron grunted.

"That's exactly what I thought."

Ron smiled and sat up on his knees. He seemed to have gotten over the initial shock of his dad's absence, and was back to his normal self.

"So, tell me more about what happened," he said enthusiastically.

"Well, there were several odd things-"

He was interrupted when Hermione came in.

"What are you two talking about?" she asked, joining Ron on his bed.

"Harry's just telling me about the trial. So, what was odd?"

"To start with, Lupin made up this whole story about how he attacked the one Ministry official with the Stupefy charm, even though I did, just to save my neck."

"Wow," Hermione said, deeply impressed.

"I know," Harry replied. "I couldn't believe it either, until he was finished. The story was pretty good too, considering the time limitations he had to come up with it. Basically, he told them that I had dropped my wand, and since his had been knocked away, he grabbed mine and shot the spell at the official while the official thought he was unconscious."

It was Hermione who noticed something was wrong first.

"Wait a minute," she said, her bookishness showing through again. "How could he have made that all up? I'm sure I've read all about their lie detectors; his story should have set alarm bells ringing or something."

"That's exactly what I thought," Harry said earnestly, hoping she'd have some explanation for it, as it had been bugging him all day long. "Do you have any idea how he got away with it?"

She got that distant look she obtained whenever she was thinking hard about something but said, "To tell you the truth, I have no idea. The only possible explanation I can think of is if he had somehow prepared in advance something that would prevent the lie detectors from discovering him."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he did. I guess we won't know until he gets out again."

"Did anything else happen?" Ron asked.

Harry went on to tell them about meeting Geoff, which reminded him that his initiation was that evening.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Hermione rolled up her shirt sleeve to check her watch. "It's almost 7:30. Why?"

"Because Geoff's initiation is tonight."

* * *

A little while later, Ginny popped in for a few minutes to tell them that they were all to dress nicely for the occasion, since they were going to be having a nice dinner in honor of the Order's new member. She told them how Fred and George figured whoever this guy was, he was lucky; the Order didn't just receive any applicants due to mistrust; that was the reason that the Order hadn't combined forces with the Ministry or come out into the open yet- it was hard to trust anyone these days. (That, and the fact that they didn't want the Order to fall apart in the disorganized chaos that the Ministry was currently in.) But then she mentioned that she supposed it was probably because he was a friend of Charlie's, and he was training to be an Auror; the two had met in Romania when Geoff was originally a dragon-tamer of sorts.

After she finished telling them everything she knew, she and Hermione scurried off to get dressed. Harry was surprised Geoff hadn't mentioned his affiliation with Charlie earlier, but then again, he probably didn't know Charlie was even in the Order yet. Since he was already dressed formally, he waited for Ron to change. Ron was hesitant to wear his suit, and when Harry saw it he understood why. Although it wasn't as bad as his formal robes he had worn to the Yule Ball, it consisted of khaki colored corduroy coat and pants, which had tiny moth-eaten holes in random places.

Ron stood in front of Harry glumly.

"See why I hate getting all dressed up?" Ron asked, holding out his arms to reveal fraying sleeves underneath.

"It's not that bad."

"Can I at least borrow a tie?"

Harry loaned him a brown tie of his and swapped the one he had been wearing all day for an emerald one.

"Shall we go then?" Harry asked, pulling his shirt cuffs up around his jacket's sleeves.

Ron held out his arm for Harry to take, and Harry pulled a fake curtsy before wrapping his arm around Ron's. They marched out of the room to a silent tune, chins facing the ceiling. However, this impaired their view of where they were going, and they walked right into Hermione and Ginny, who were just leaving their room as well.

"Would you two watch where you're going?" Hermione scorned, smoothing her dress front.

"Sorry Her..mi.." Harry began to say, but failed to finish, because he had just laid eyes on her. Ron released his arm and they both stood staring at her as if it was the first time they had ever seen her. She was wearing a slim, elegant plum dress that reached all the way to the floor. It was only the second time he had ever seen her in a dress, but this time was different than the last. He looked from her feet up to her hips and slim waist and up further where she curved back out again… He felt his face heat up, and darted his eyes back up to her face, praying she hadn't noticed what he was looking at. Her hair was pinned up behind her in a messy bun, two tendrils of curly hair framing her face. She had even gone to the limit of applying some light make-up. However, the thing he noticed the most was lying right against her chest; she was wearing the necklace he had given her. The emerald seemed to absorb all the light of the hallway, causing it to glow.

Ron cleared his throat next to him, as the hallway suddenly appeared in Harry's view again and he realized how long they had been staring. He swiftly nudged Ron in the ribs in order to stop Ron staring too.

Hermione watched them curiously with narrowed eyes, hands on her hips.

"Are you guys feeling alright?"

"Yeah, fine," they both said at once.

Hermione's look lingered on them both a few seconds longer, but then she shrugged and started downstairs.

Harry and Ron watched her for a few seconds, then turned and caught each other's eye. Harry could tell by the stunned look on Ron's face that Ron was thinking basically the same things he was. Ginny saw them and rolled her eyes, sighing. She then followed after Hermione. He and Ron walked behind Ginny, and he suddenly found the usually cool hallway unbearably hot. He loosened his tie as they headed downstairs, into the kitchen.

The table was set very nicely. A white lace table cloth was draped over its entirety, transforming its bulkiness into elegance. Lit candles were placed along the center of the table, surrounded by a flowering garland for decoration. The usual dishware was swapped for a formal set of white plates with gold trim that had belonged to the Blacks. The silverware had elegant designs carved into it, and it sparkled in the light. Each place setting had a large plate resting on the table, followed by a smaller salad plate then soup bowl stacked on top. There were even tea cups resting upside down on small crumpet plates in addition to the wine glasses. The napkins were all folded into swans, which actually flapped their wings periodically. Harry marveled at the effort Mrs. Weasley had put into preparing the room, despite the unfortunate circumstances regarding her husband's sentence.

The room was already full of bustling guests, so many, in fact, that Harry couldn't see to the opposite end of the room. He, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron all squeezed their way into the room, trying with difficulty to reach the table. Judging by the number of people present, Harry guessed that almost every Order member was in attendance. He watched all of the guests with interest. He had never attended an elegant dinner party before, apart from the Yule Ball; the Dursleys had forced him to wait up in his room every time they had company or went to someone else's party. That is, after he fixed the dinner or made the dessert gift for them, of course.

Neville was already there, and when he saw them he hurried over. "Have you seen all of the people here?" he asked excitedly. "I never realized half of these people were in the Order before. I'm actually shocked that the adults let us attend."

"I talked mum into it," Ginny said.

Ron looked impressed. "And how exactly did you manage to do that?"

She smiled mischievously. "Well, I didn't exactly talk her into it. I rather talked Bill and Charlie into it, and then they talked her into it."

They all laughed. Harry then busied himself in trying to figure out who was there. It did not take long to figure Hagrid wasn't there, and nor was McGonagall; they were probably busy. As he suspected, Snape was there. He looked extra ridiculous with his oily hair greased back in an attempt to look presentable. As Snape laughed lightly at a joke someone else was telling him, he scanned the room, unintentionally catching Harry's eye. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, as Snape's hard black eyes bore into his, holding Harry's stare, and then his gaze passed over him, falling back on the man he was talking to. Harry continued to watch Snape, his blood boiling. A deep hatred that resided in Harry stirred, like a dormant animal waking. Snape was one of the reasons Sirius was dead. No matter how hard Harry tried, he could not forget those snide remarks Snape taunted Sirius with. That, if nothing else, fueled an accumulating hatred of Snape in Harry. And now it was getting so bad that even the sight of him made Harry suddenly tense all over. As a result, Harry dreaded what potions class would be like this year.

Luckily, his mind was taken off of Snape as a skinny, towering figure approached him through the crowd. Still dressed in wizard robes, he stood out against everyone else, though it wasn't the robes that set him apart; it was the looming sense of power that seemed to encase him, and touch everyone who came near. His long white beard, with strands of silver in it, hung low in front of him. Although his skin was pale and wrinkled, his limbs frail, and his hair white, his eyes were still youthful and alive with unsettled energy and he never hunched. Dumbledore approached Harry, and his appearance made his blood calm as all hated thoughts of Snape abandoned him.

"Hello Harry," he said, his voice carrying a calm that penetrated deep into Harry's very soul.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, respectfully nodding his head.

"I've heard all about your dealings this summer, naturally," Dumbledore said. "I hope you understand my decision to remove you from your Aunt's home earlier than usual, as I know how much that must have upset you." Though his expression was impassive, his eyes twinkled mischievously.

Harry couldn't help smiling.

Dumbledore continued, "I would love to discuss your summer with you, but I hardly find this the time or place. So I will be sure to see you in my office at the beginning of term?"

"Sure, Professor," Harry said while fully aware that Dumbledore did not plan on discussing his summer pastimes, but rather his misfortunes.

"Good," Dumbledore replied, continuing on through the crowd.

The five of them spent much time allowing Ron and Ginny to point out various Ministry members and give them a quick blurb of background history on each. As it turned out, there were many influential people there, many in high positions within the Ministry. Then there were also a few elders who were loyal friends and allies of Dumbledore's, and a few people Harry recognized as part of the Wizengamot. Ron and Ginny were a wealth of knowledge in the form of Ministry people and politics. However, even they did not recognize a few of the stooped wizards and witches around the room; that's where Hermione got her word in. She explained that she recognized them as old Hogwarts professors, or other accomplished wizards about whom she had read about in one old book or another. She related their names to Harry and the others, as Harry struggled to keep up and memorize them. By the time they had covered the bulk of people in the room, Harry felt thoroughly ignorant and confused.

Then it was his turn to introduce the others to someone, as Geoff caught sight of him and made his way over, waving.

"Hello Harry," he said cheerily, shaking his hand energetically. "I heard all about the trial from Kingsley. I'm sorry to hear about Arthur and Remus. However, I'm glad you got off alright."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling at Geoff's high energy. Then he realized the others were standing around him, following the conversation curiously. "Oh, sorry," he said, turning to his friends. "This is Geoff. He's the reason we're all here." They all murmured polite greetings, before Harry said, "Geoff, this is Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger," gesturing at them all in turn.

Geoff beamed at them all and shook their hands as Harry introduced them.

"I thought you two looked like Weasleys," he said in reference to Ginny and Ron. "I know your brother, Charlie. He's told me a fair amount about you. Let's see," he said, observing them both in turn, apparently searching his memory for facts about them. "You're entering your fifth year, and you were a Gryffindor Seeker last year," he said, looking at Ginny. "Am I correct?"

"Yeah, you are," Ginny replied. She was apparently ecstatic that someone knew so much about her.

Geoff turned to Ron next, looking him over as if that would jog his memory.

"And you were made Gryffindor Keeper and Prefect last year, are entering your sixth year, love Honeydukes candy, and hate spiders. Right?"

Ron looked astounded. "Yeah. How'd you know so much?"

Geoff shrugged. "Charlie told me. And he also told me," he said, now looking at Hermione and Neville, "That you're arguably the brightest witch of your age and that you live with your Grandmother and have a strong suit in Herbology."

They both stared at him, amazed at his memory. Harry could tell they were all growing to like him as quickly as he did.

"So you're all Gryffindors?"

Everyone nodded yes in answer.

"Huh. I was too, back in the same year as Charlie. That's actually where we first met. I was never any good at Quidditch; it's more a Weasley gene. However, I was a Prefect and my best subject was undeniably Herbology, that is apart from Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts; I had always loved gardening in my parent's garden, though there were no gnomes there- just regular muggle vegetables- so when I learned that there were such things as magical plants- well, let's just say they held my interest for an entire seven years."

Harry noticed it right away; Geoff had something in common with every one of them, and by making them realize that, he was automatically gaining friends. It was a good tactic to keep in mind for future reference.

"Well, I have to go and meet a few more people; it's all very dull talk, really, with the elders. I'd much rather stay here." He sighed and smiled once more, before walking on, engaging himself in a conversation with an old stooped wizard Harry now recognized as an old friend of Dumbledore's, Edward Helingway. Since Helingway's sight was failing him, Geoff managed to sneak them a quick glance and yawn without the man noticing anything at all.

Harry laughed along with everyone else, though no one laughed as hard as Ron, who was practically teary-eyed.

"He's even nicer than you said he was," Ron said, after he had settled down.

Tired of standing, they decided to sit at the table, and as they approached it they discovered there were little name displays set along each place, assigning place settings. So they set off down along the edge, scanning the name tags for their places. Luckily, they weren't sitting at opposite ends of the table, but nonetheless were spread out a little ways. Ginny and Neville were placed across each other near the center of the table, and Ron was two seats down on Ginny's left. Harry and Hermione found they were sitting next to each other on the same side as Neville, though they were closer to the fireplace. This left Ron sitting kiddy-corner to Hermione, a place he apparently did not favor, judging by his scowl. After Harry sat for a few minutes trying to figure out why, he determined it was because Ron would rather be sitting next to her. He was about to offer to switch places with him, but then Mrs. Weasley announced it was time to take their seats, and before he knew it everyone else was already sitting. There was a buzz of conversation in the air as they all sat while wine was magically poured into their glasses. Glancing at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, Harry decided to voice what he had been thinking all evening.

He leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear, "You look really nice tonight."

She smiled warmly, rosy cheeks deepening, and replied, "Why thank you. And might I add you don't look too bad yourself."

Harry grinned, chuckling at her overly sophisticated tone of voice.

"I especially love that necklace. Wherever did you get it?" he said, playing along.

Now it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Do you like it? My best friend gave it to me. You might know him. His eyes reflect the color of this emerald perfectly."

"Hmm," he said, holding his chin in imitation of old professors in deep concentration. "Nope. Don't think I know him."

They laughed together as the clinking of a knife on glass rang through the room, drawing their attention. Dumbledore was standing at the head of the table, wine glass held in his hand. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled genially around at everyone sitting at the table, and his smile immediately set the tone of the room. Everyone waited respectfully for him to begin his speech.

"Welcome, welcome," he rang in his hushed calm voice that oozed power. "I'm glad to see you have all managed to attend. As I'm sure you know, initiations to the Order of the Phoenix are rare, and therefore when the scarcity does occur, it is reason enough for us all to gather in reception. As some of you know, and others do not, our newest member is about to become Geoff Everhurst."

When Dumbledore announced his name, Geoff rose from his seat, which was directly next to Dumbledore's. He was grinning from ear to ear, barely containing his excitement.

"Previously an aspiring dragon-tamer, Geoff is currently in training to become a fully-fledged Auror, after discovering his true interests lie in fighting dark forces, rather than taming them. He proves to be highly ambitious and committed, as he has already expressed his deep dedication to helping fight Lord Voldemort."

There were shudders and intakes of breath from all around the room at the mention of Voldemort's name, though it didn't faze Harry. Even Geoff had flinched, though the entire point of the speech was to display his bravery against Voldemort.

Dumbledore pressed onward with his speech, ignoring the disruption. He turned to Geoff, who was practically bouncing with either nerves or excitement; Harry wasn't quite sure anymore.

Dumbledore placed his hand on Geoff's head, declaring the Order's Oath for Geoff to swear to. It was short and simple, but Harry somehow got the feeling that it consisted of more than it appeared to; the way Dumbledore had his hand on Geoff as Geoff swore to the Oath made it seem as if Dumbledore was almost casting a spell on him, or that there was certainly some transfer of binding power passing out of his long fingers.

"Do you, Geoff Thomas Everhurst, swear to always follow the code of the Order of the Phoenix, and to never betray our secrets?"

"Yes," Geoff said.

Dumbledore smiled and lifted his hand off of Geoff's head. He then turned to address the other Order members.

"I am certain that you will all join me in toasting our official new constituent, Geoff Everhurst." He raised his glass into the air, and everyone followed suit, chiming "Here, here!"

The dinner party lasted late into the evening. The final guests to leave did not do so until nearly 3:00 in the morning, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed up to the very end. Harry had a light buzz from the wine by the time he, Ron, and Hermione stumbled back upstairs to their bedrooms.

"Goodnight guys," Hermione said, slipping back into her room.

Back in their room, as Harry sat on his bed, yanking off his dress shoes, Ron could not help but mention Hermione.

"Hermione looked really great tonight, didn't she?" he asked in an off-hand way, which failed to fool Harry.

"Yeah, she did," Harry agreed. "She should wear her hair up more often."

"Yeah," Ron said with a dazed and dreamy look on his face.

Harry laughed lightly, unbuttoning his shirt before rolling over onto his side. "Goodnight Ron."

"Yeah, g'night," Ron managed to utter, still staring dazedly at the wall across from him.

As soon as Harry rolled over he stopped laughing because he did not want to listen to Ron talking about Hermione. He did not want to hear anyone talk about Hermione with a less-than reserved attitude or a dreamy look on their face. And although he felt that, he refused to admit it to himself.

* * *

The next week passed by swiftly. Harry and Ron spent much of their time being pestered by Hermione, as she continuously urged them to read over their books. After listening to a few days of Hermione's nuisances, Harry and Ron both caved in and settled down to reading through their Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Practical Defensive Spells for the Advanced Wizard- N.E.W.T level. Actually, after he set his mind to reading it, Harry grew to enjoy reading the book; it contained countless spells he could tell would be useful that he hadn't learned before. Then, at the end of the week, each of them received letters that Harry had been silently dreading: their O.W.L results.

Harry and Ron were sitting in their room, engaged in a game of wizard's chess, which Harry was losing miserably, when Hermione came bursting into the room, three letters clutched to her chest.

"Our O.W.L. results have arrived!" she exclaimed breathlessly, cheeks flushed.

Harry and Ron both groaned in turn. Hermione swiftly handed them their letters before tearing hers open along the top, snatching the parchment from within and unfolding it quickly.

She scanned her letter with twinkling eyes, a slow smile stretching across her face. Harry and Ron watched her wordlessly, waiting patiently for her to tell them how she did. However, when she was done reading it she simply folded it back up and then looked at them.

"Well?" she said. "Aren't you going to open yours?"

Ron and Harry glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, before Ron said, "Let me guess. You received all 'Outstandings.'"

Hermione kept a straight face as she replied, "I'm not telling you what I got yet. I want to know what you got first."

"Fine," Harry said, ripping open his letter, as Ron grudgingly followed suit. Harry unfolded his letter wearily, wanting and yet not-wanting to see his results. Then when he looked at it, he found it was not as bad as he had anticipated.

Somehow, he had managed to receive 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, and in Transfiguration. He had just barely scraped by with an 'Acceptable' in Astronomy, despite the disruption during the practical exam, and in Herbology as well. Upon seeing his Defense Against the Dark Arts grade, he felt his spirits soar: he had actually received an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. Then his spirits lowered again, as he found he got a 'Dreadful' in Divination and History of Magic, but then again, he had been expecting that. However, the biggest blow came when he caught sight of his Potions grade: Acceptable. Well, there went his chances of becoming an Auror.

He lowered his sheet, crestfallen.

Across the table, Ron groaned. "Well, I wasn't really expecting anything better. Nothing higher than Exceeds Expectations, and that's in Defense Against the Dark Arts, because of the club. Did you get a 'D' in Divination as well Harry?"

But Harry didn't answer; he couldn't even bring himself to look at them; he was too disappointed.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked.

"I got an 'A' in Potions," Harry mumbled, eyes fixed on the table.

"Well, that isn't too bad!" Ron said. "I got a Poor on that one," he added bitterly.

"But you don't want to be an Auror," Harry said, looking up at him. "Snape won't accept anyone who didn't get 'Outstanding' into his N.E.W.T. class.

Ron and Hermione both cast him sympathetic looks. He felt Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said.

"It's not your fault," he grumbled. "I mean, I didn't really expect to get an 'Outstanding'. I just wanted to so badly, you know?"

Hermione and Ron sat there awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Harry decided to spare them the trouble.

"Ah, it's alright," he said. "I'll get over it. Besides, who wants three years of training after school anyways?"

"I know I wouldn't," Ron said. "I can't wait to get out of school. Too bad I'm not into starting a joke shop. Otherwise I would bail early like Fred and George."

Hermione cast him a stern look. "You know that was a bad idea."

"No it wasn't. Look how rich they are!"

"That doesn't mean they couldn't have stayed there for a couple more months and then started their joke shop. Why would anyone who hates school that badly stick around for so long, only to give up at the end? It just doesn't make sense to me."

Ron grunted. "Yeah, well that's because you love school. I'd probably like it a bit more too if I knew all the answers to everything."

Hermione frowned slightly, though continued just the same. "I don't know all of the answers, Ron. And don't make fun of me; if you would just actually try for once, instead of expecting me to give you all the answers, then-

"I do try!" Ron said indignantly. "And I don't always ask you to give me the answers! I do plenty of my own work, don't I Harry?"

Harry pushed his chair back from the table. "Oh no, you're not bringing me into this."

Ron raised his eyebrows at him, but Harry just shook his head.

"Well," he continued, taking a different approach. "Not everyone is a super-brain like you Hermione."

"I'm not a super-brain. I just work hard."

"Yeah- so hard, you hardly ever get out and have any fun. There's such a thing as too much work Hermione."

Hermione frowned deeply at Ron, and Harry could tell that comment stung her more than the others.

She huffed and turned on her heel, walking briskly to the door. Once she reached it she stopped and turned and said to Ron, "Just because I work hard in school, that doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun Ron. And because, unlike you, I know how to balance the two, I'm the one with all 'Outstandings' and you're the one who now only has a few class and career options left open for him." She then stormed through the door, shutting it roughly. Ron was left staring at the place where she had been standing with his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Now look what you've done," Harry said softly, regretting Ron's words as if they were his own.

Ron's ears turned red. "Yeah, well, she shouldn't have said I don't try, because I do. We both do."

"You still shouldn't have said that."

"I know," he moaned, sinking back in his chair. "But you have to admit, anyone who gets all 'Outstandings' is an over-achiever."

"Yeah, she does focus a little too much on school sometimes," Harry admitted, more to make Ron feel better than anything else. He turned back to the chess board, determining his next move and said, "Rook to C9."

Later that evening, after much convincing on Harry's part, Ron grudgingly apologized to Hermione. She let go of any resentment and let Ron off the hook easily, for once.

Once everything was patched up with them, the rest of July passed by smoothly. Neville joined their daily routine of reading their textbooks and occasional games of exploding snap, while Ginny stayed in the room with them, studying on her own. Harry and Ron found they were happy they read ahead of time after all; they figured it would come in handy later on, when everyone else had to read a bunch for homework and they didn't. Harry showed Hermione and Ron the snitch Lupin had given him, explaining to them with sparkling eyes that it had been his dad's. Sometimes various Order members would attend dinner; Moody stopped in several times, the Weasleys had their seats carved in stone, and Tonks came in at least 3 times a week. When the group wasn't studying, they were helping around the house a bit. There was dusting to be done and some of the carpeting had to be replaced; light fixtures had to be hung or swapped out for new ones as well, which really helped brighten the house.

Then came the final day in July. Harry awoke from a deep sleep, and it took him a few seconds to wake up fully enough to realize what day it was. He grinned as he sat up in his bed. Today was his birthday; his sixteenth birthday, in fact. Impatient for the day to begin, he slid out of bed and through on a favorite t-shirt of his and jeans. He fed Hedwig a treat, and she hooted gratefully. Then he retrieved his snitch from within his trunk and headed out of the room, careful not to disturb Ron as it was still early.

Since nobody else was awake yet, Harry crept upstairs to feed Buckbeak. The new lights they had installed throughout the house- in this hallway, sconces- only required a spell to light them all.

"Illuminare," he whispered, holding his wand out in front of him. All of the lights lit at once, allowing him to see all the way down the extensive hall. He padded down the hallway on light feet, wary of the creaky floor boards. Inside, Buckbeak ruffled his feathers restlessly, turning his fierce eyes on Harry. Harry bowed, asking permission to enter, and once it was granted he grabbed a dead mouse out of a bag hidden away in a cupboard and tossed it to Buckbeak, who snatched it out of the air gleefully.

It had grown so that every time Harry entered this room, he felt immensely distressed for the poor Hippogriff. There were no windows in this room- no natural air of any kind. He knew full well what it felt like to be cooped up in a tiny room, all freedom torn away. Whenever he was back at the Dursleys, even when he had permission to wander around outside, he always felt that they had might as well put chains on him, for all the freedom he felt. And the thing he longed for most, when he was stuck in his tiny bedroom at night, was to fly away. Now here this great beast sat, with no more freedom than Lupin or Mr. Weasley. Buckbeak was born to stretch his wings in flight, and Harry would have more than gladly set him free to do just that if the Ministry wouldn't have captured and executed him as soon as they saw him. Harry grew more and more sorry that nothing could be done with every visit to the stuffy, dead-aired room.

Almost as if Buckbeak sensed this, he stretched his wings and trotted over to Harry, nuzzling his shoulder. Harry stroked Buckbeak's sleek grey feathers, thankful for the kind gesture. Buckbeak then let out a small cooing cry and curled back down on the floor to rest. Harry left the room quietly and crept back downstairs again, dimming the lights behind him.

He decided to check if Ron was awake yet, so he poked his head through their bedroom door, only to find Ron snoring loudly into his pillow. Harry shrugged disappointedly; he was impatient for someone to be awake. He shut the door with a tiny 'click' and turned to find himself facing Hermione and Ginny's room. He hadn't even seen the inside of it since he had been here. Maybe one of them was awake, reading or something. It was worth a peek.

He twisted the handle slowly and creaked the door open inch by inch, until he could see inside. The light of the hallway cast a sliver of soft light over two beds, identical to his and Ron's four-posters. At the base of each, Snowy and Crookshanks lay, purring contentedly. In the bed nearest him, the light of the doorway fell across Ginny's face, just peeking up above her blankets; she was fast asleep. He couldn't tell whether Hermione was in her bed or not, so he opened the door a bit further, allowing more light into the room. She was sitting up in her bed, a small book resting against her bent legs and a pen in her hand. Harry squinted his eyes, attempting to read what the book was, while unconsciously leaning on the door. In a flash, the door swung open and Harry fell into the room flat on his face.

He heard Hermione let out a slight exclamation of surprise, and he pushed himself off the ground, to find her standing in her nightdress behind her bed. Ginny, a deep sleeper (it was a Weasley gene), only rolled over in her bed and remained asleep. Harry felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment, and he backed automatically towards the door.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in a rushed whisper. "What are you doing in here?"

Harry noticed the slight transparency of her nightdress, and he looked away humbly.

"I was just seeing if you were awake. I'm sorry."

She must have noticed how he didn't meet her eyes, for she snatched up her blanket and held in front of herself.

"It's alright. But you should knock first! You can't just go bursting into girls' rooms without an invitation!"

"I know," Harry said awkwardly, stepping back through the door. "I won't do it again, I promise."

As he closed the door Hermione whispered, "Just a minute. I'll be right out."

He closed the door as quickly as he could, sighing in relief. Man, he could be really thick. Of course he shouldn't have just let himself in. Stupid, stupid. He groaned and hit his head against the wall, but then regretted that as soon as he did it and jerked back, rubbing his sore forehead.

It didn't take Hermione long to get dressed. She appeared a few minutes later, and to Harry's immense relief she completely disregarded the whole event with the wave of her hand, when he tried to apologize again.

They weren't halfway down the hall when Hermione stopped him with an outstretched arm and said, "Oh, I almost forgot. Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks," Harry said grinning.

"I'm sorry that we aren't allowed outside the house," she said, as they continued down the hallway and then the stairs. "We could have gone to a park or restaurant."

"That's alright, I don't really mind," Harry said. "I'm just happy that I get to spend my birthday like most people this year: surrounded by friends."

Coming from anyone else, the phrase would have sounded sarcastic and cliché, but he managed to get away with it since in his case, it was the truth. Harry was looking more forward to this birthday than any of his birthdays in years past. Spending time outside that cramped house with the Dursleys, here surrounded by magic, was exactly Harry's idea of a perfect birthday. Even if they had to just stay inside- he didn't mind.

"So, what were you reading?" Harry ventured, though wary to bring up anything dealing with his stupid mishap when she had forgotten it. He was just too curious to not ask.

"Nothing," Hermione said a little too quickly to be inconspicuous.

Harry grinned sheepishly, as they entered the kitchen. "It was a diary, wasn't it?"

"So what if it was?" Hermione said, moving over to the pantry with her back to him. "I don't think it's any of your business whether I decide to keep a diary or not- that is, if it was one."

"Which it is," he said, lighting the lamps so they could see better. "I never thought you'd be the type to have a journal. I've never seen you writing in it before."

Hermione's head appeared back out of the pantry. "And what exactly do you mean by 'the type'?"

Harry felt like reaching out, grabbing his words, and shoving them right back down his throat again.

"How do you even know what type of people keep journals? All sorts of people do. There is no 'type'. Don't stereotype me."

"I wasn't stereotyping you!" Harry said indignantly, as her head disappeared back in the pantry again. "And there are 'types' when it comes to journals: those who keep them, and those who don't."

"Ha-ha, very funny," came in reply from deep within the pantry. "There's no good cereal left," she added.

Harry headed over into the pantry, and found himself surrounded by shelves that towered over him, laden with goods. There were loaves of bread, bags of flour, vegetable oil, sacks of potatoes, crackers, chips, a variety of jars full of sauces and preserves, some stale Honeydukes candy, and innumerable bottles of Butterbeer and jugs of Firewhisky. However, Hermione was right- there was only a battered box of 'Flakes and Flies', a wizarding cereal with bugs that actually moved around. And even though the bugs were fake, it was still completely unappetizing.

"Hmm, you're right," Harry said, moving on to the very back of the pantry where there was an old refrigerator and freezer. He pulled open the suctioned door and peered inside, taking inventory. There was a jug of milk, some butter, fruit and vegetables, a little bit of deli meat, some cheese, and- aha! - a carton of eggs.

Harry grabbed the eggs, milk, some mushrooms, ham, and cheese and kicked the refrigerator closed again, walking out of the pantry and dropping everything on the counter.

"Do omelettes sound good?" he asked, heading back in for some bread. "I make a mean omelette."

"It sounds great," she replied. "I didn't know you knew how to cook."

He came back out with a loaf of bread in his arms, shutting the pantry door behind him. "I learned at the Dursleys; they used to force me to make their meals for them. I guess once I got good at it I didn't mind. The only problem was that I didn't get to eat whatever I cooked."

"They were real jerks, weren't they?" she said, grabbing a frying pan out of a bottom cupboard.

Harry chortled. "They still are. No matter; let's not talk about them today."

The two worked together seamlessly, Hermione handing him ingredients and dicing the mushrooms and ham while he whisked the eggs and put everything together. They didn't use any magic; they just did it by hand, which was the only way Harry knew how to cook. Towards the end he went to make toast, only to find there was no toaster.

"We need toast," he said, popping a piece of ham into his mouth while he flipped one of the omelettes with his other hand.

Hermione searched around the kitchen and soon exclaimed, "We could use the oven!"

"Um, I'm not sure that will work, Mione."

"Oh, sure it will," she said stubbornly, tossing the toast slices straight into the oven where they could toast on the grate.

He watched her set the oven to 'bake' apprehensively, but was too distracted by the omelettes to worry long. A playful air suddenly came about him, and he grabbed a bit of diced ham and flicked it across the counter at Hermione. It hit her face before she noticed it coming. She brushed it off with a sly smirk, before snatching up some stray bits of shredded cheese and diced mushrooms and throwing them back at him. He ducked down below the stove, causing her glob of food to smash harmlessly into the wall, and popped back up grinning, just as another bunch of chopped food hit him square in the face. He laughed, wiping it off his face and throwing the same food back at her, as she squealed and dove behind a chair.

This went on for a couple minutes, until they were both laughing, covered in bits of food. Harry flipped the omelettes up into the air in a showy display before catching them on their plates, which ended with a burst of applause from Hermione. He bowed and put the plates on the table before he came back for some silverware while Hermione brought two glasses of milk for them.

They sat across from each other at the table, and as soon as Hermione tasted it she said, "Mmm…Harry this is delicious!"

"Thanks," he said, taking a bite out of his as well. Then he stopped dead, sniffing the air. There was a burning smell coming from somewhere, but that couldn't be right…. "Do you smell that?" he asked Hermione, and she nodded her head as they looked at each other.

It dawned on them at the same time and they both sprang from their chairs, crying, "The toast!"

They ran over to the oven, and Harry yanked it open. A puff of smoke came billowing out at his face, and he leaned back away from it coughing and waving it away. It didn't take long to see that the toast, now nothing more than two small burnt black crisps, was on fire. Harry looked around frantically for something to put it out with, and was about to run to the sink for water when Hermione whipped out her wand and said, "Glacius!" A blast of ice shot out of the end of her wand and doused the flames instantly. They were left breathing heavily and coughing in the smoking air. However, it only took a nervously tense look between them before they burst out laughing again in relief that their stupidity did not get too out of hand.

"I told you not to put the toast in there!" Harry sputtered.

"I'm sorry! I thought it was a good idea!" Hermione exclaimed, still laughing slightly. She shook her head vigorously, glancing apprehensively towards the smelly oven. "I am never doing that again."

"Yeah, neither am I."

There was no way to get the smoke out of the room except to just wait for it to disperse and thin-out. So they settled back down to their omelettes, eyes a little watery from the thick, murky smoke. Just as they were finishing and were cleaning up the dishes, Mrs. Weasley came into the room.

They were talking and they hadn't heard her come in, until she cried, "What on earth happened in here? Is that smoke I smell?"

Hermione nearly dropped the plate she was holding and they both jumped at the sound, and turned to meet Mrs. Weasley reluctantly.

"We just had a little accident. Nothing major," Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley looked at them incredulously, but they just stared back innocently. She put her hands on her hips, scrutinizing them. "And exactly what kind of accident was it?"

"We just burnt some toast," Hermione said. "Sorry about the smell Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was going to ask more questions, but then looked at Harry again and her expression brightened.

"Harry, dear! Happy Birthday!" she exclaimed, arms wide as she came up and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thanks," he croaked, glasses knocked askew on his face from where Mrs. Weasley bumped him. She released him and he gulped for air as indiscreetly as possible.

Mrs. Weasley then looked around them at the dirty dishes still out, with a slight frown. "You two already had breakfast then?"

"What? Oh yeah, we had some eggs," Harry said.

"Omelettes," Hermione corrected. "Harry made them."

"Did you now?" Mrs. Weasley said. "If I had known you could cook I would have been putting you to work. Now you two run along; go wake the others; I'll finish cleaning up here."

Harry and Hermione tried to argue, but she insisted, shooing them with the careless wave of her hand as she grabbed a dirty plate and began scrubbing it. So they headed upstairs, Hermione going to wake Ginny while Harry woke Ron. Ron put up a struggle, whipping around in his bed in fruitless attempts to shake Harry from him. In the end, Harry shoved him off his bed, leaving Ron to roll to the ground. He tried to curl up there, but Harry just poked his foot at him, yelling at him to wake up.

Once Harry was sure Ron was getting around, he headed up the hall to the room Neville was staying in. It didn't take long to wake him. Harry simply laid his hand delicately on Neville's shoulder and Neville sat up in a flash, looking around him with frantic wide eyes.

"Don't worry, Neville. It's just me," Harry calmed. "You're supposed to get around."

A few minutes later everyone was gathered downstairs in the kitchen, some groggy, some wide awake. As it turned out, Mrs. Weasley was preparing breakfast, and since Harry and Hermione had already eaten, they waited up in her room instead. The room was really neat and tidy, spare stray fluffs of cat hair coating almost every surface. This room had a green velvet couch against one wall with a modest end table beside it. They also had a small bathroom directly off the room, which was so tiny you could barely squeeze the door shut once you were inside. A soft rug lay underfoot and when Hermione slipped off her shoes before she came in, Harry did the same. He followed her over to the couch on which Crookshanks was lying, where she sat down with her legs crossed Indian-style. Harry glanced from where Crookshanks was lying to the empty spot in the middle, and tried to get the cat to scoot down a little ways. Crookshanks hissed and spat at him, not budging, and Harry pulled his hand back swiftly. Hermione scolded the cat and scooped him up onto her lap, leaving room for Harry. He sat down with his legs pulled up to his chin, facing Hermione, who was stroking her cat's thick orange fur.

"I'm sorry about him, Harry," she said. "He didn't mean it. Did you Crookshanks?" Crookshanks turned his flat face on Harry with what he swore was a gloating smugness.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the cat and Crookshanks turned his head back away.

"I hope Mrs. Weasley didn't need those eggs," Hermione said, "Or that she was planning on making you breakfast."

"Nah, I doubt it." There was a short silence that seemed to blow out his eardrums, and he found himself struggling to think of a conversation topic. "So, you told me you'd tell me about your parents and your home."

"There isn't really much to tell," Hermione said, still running her fingers through Crookshank's fur. "We live in a townhouse in Oxford, on Ryan Drive; my parents have their dental practice in the city, so we don't live far outside of it. There's a small garden in the back; my mother loves to plant flowers." She smiled and her eyes glazed over a bit as she began to reminisce.

Harry listened intently, imagining this perfect home she grew up in. It seemed to form in his mind as if someone was actually painting it there, and he found himself viewing a home with much more detail then Hermione was describing; it was almost as if he could really see it- like he was remembering it rather then imagining it.

"There are pink roses and white daisies and yellow buttercups. In the summer, when I return home, I sit out in the garden on this little bench tucked away in a corner of the patio with a fountain beside it and read. The birds chirp all day and the sun warms the entire space below. But my favorite part is running outside when I come home to see the spring lilies; I planted them with my mom when I was little, and she says that when they bloom, they remind her of me, and she wakes up every morning and looks out her bedroom window to see them.

"Then inside, let me think…" she said, furrowing her eyebrows slightly for a moment. "There are three bedrooms and two baths on the upper level. It's nice to come back from sharing a dormitory and bathroom and to have my own. I have a stereo in my room and some really plushy pillows on my bed. A couple of years ago I made my parents let me paint my room blue with clouds; that's great to look at on rainy days. And I have my desk and closet and hammock-swing-"

"Hammock swing?" Harry interrupted. "What's that?"

"You've never seen a hammock swing before?"

"No."

"Well, it's just like a hammock- you have seen those, haven't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes with irritation and nodded yes; of course he knew what a hammock was.

"It's basically a small canvas hammock hung from this one plate on the ceiling by rope coming from all four corners, which makes it bunch up like a bag almost. But then, they cut the front out so you can sit in it and they cut out half of the sides and insert little wooden poles to serve as armrests. When you sit in it, you sink down in it like a hammock with your legs hanging down like on a swing, only there's a little footrest hanging from the seat so you don't have to just hang there with your feet in the air. It's really comfortable."

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said, not sure he understood it exactly.

"I miss that swing so much while we're at Hogwarts. It's one of my favorite spots to read."

"So why don't you hang one in your dorm?"

Hermione laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, sure Harry."

"I bet you could if you wanted to," he persisted. "I don't remember reading any rules that said hammock swings aren't allowed."

"They don't tell us not to bring rifles either," she said, putting Crookshanks on the ground at her feet. He proceeded to creep up on Snowy, who was still sleeping on the edge of Ginny's bed. In a sudden movement Crookshanks leapt up onto the spot where Snowy was lying- or had been lying, since Snowy rolled out of the way before Crookshanks landed. They began to chase each other around the room playfully.

Harry watched Snowy and felt something strange tug at his mind. He swore that he had seen that cat before somewhere, but he could not figure out where. It was right on the edge of his knowledge, hovering there but never coming close enough for Harry to grasp, and it was beginning to drive him insane.

He must have had an odd look on his face, because Hermione said, "Is there any particular reason why you hate that cat?"

Harry shook his head, tearing his eyes from that snow white blur. "No. I don't hate it. But it looks so familiar, and I can't figure out why…like when you know the name of a song and it's on the tip of your tongue but you just can't quite remember even though you're trying so hard to…"

"Oh. I hate it when that happens; it's so frustrating."

Harry sighed. "Yeah."

Hermione looked around the room as if searching for something to say or do and then offered, "Want to play a game of exploding snap?"

He grabbed the deck from his room and they sat on the floor of her room playing. Every time one of the cards exploded they would both jump in surprise, falling backwards and Hermione would give a little shriek. Harry won the first game and they were just beginning a second when Ron wandered in, sitting down with them.

"Want to play a round?" Harry asked, gathering and shuffling the cards.

"Sure," Ron said. "I wasn't expecting you to be in here; I wondered where you went off to when I didn't find you in our room, so I went to check up in Buckbeak's room." Ron gulped, his face pale. "And I sort of forgot to bow and it was all dark so I didn't even see Buckbeak on the ground and I sort of tripped over him…"

Harry looked up from dealing the cards, saw Ron's expression, and burst out laughing.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He squawked and spread his wings out, knocking me back over again when I tried to stand up. So I…I backed away as fast as I could and then stood up and jumped over him before he could stand up fully. And he was going to chase me down the hall but I slammed the door closed before he could." He recalled it all with horrified wide eyes.

Harry and Hermione couldn't help laughing. Ron looked offended for a little but then calmed down and heaved a deep sigh before joining them in finding the amusement.

They spent a great deal of time playing exploding snap, and the round soon turned into a miniature tournament. Hermione was out after the first three games but she stayed next to them, cheering them on and putting out small fires on the rug, or on one occasion Ron.

Then, when noon rolled around, Mrs. Weasley came upstairs into their room, Ginny and Neville just visible behind her in the hall.

"Let's get around to go now dears," she said kindly.

Ron and Hermione got up immediately, but Harry sat on the ground looking up at them, completely confused.

"What's going on?" he asked, standing up slowly.

"You'll see soon enough," Mrs. Weasley said, face working hard to suppress a smile. "Just feed Hedwig and come down to the kitchen."

He looked at them all suspiciously, but was shoved out of the room by Ron before he could ask any more questions. Ron also refused to tell him anything, so he distractedly fed Hedwig and then followed Ron out of the room. They passed a table near the doorway with random objects on it, and Harry doubled back in order to snatch his snitch off of it, shoving it in his pocket.

Down in the kitchen, Harry and Ron found the others waiting for them, gathered around the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley had the bowl of floo powder down from the mantel and in her hands. Everyone was grinning with the knowledge of what was happening, but that only made Harry frown slightly.

"Why don't you go first, Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley said, as Ginny stepped into the fire and grabbed a handful of floo powder, some of it sifting through her fingers and falling to the fireplace floor.

"The Burrow!" she said, loudly and clearly, and in a flash of blinding green light she was gone.

"The Burrow?" Harry asked Ron. "Why are we going there?"

Ron disregarded Harry's question and pushed him towards the fire where Mrs. Weasley held out the bowl for him to grab some floo powder.

"I'll see you there," Ron said.

Harry grabbed a handful half-reluctantly, half-excitedly for his nerves were beginning to bounce around inside of him in anticipation of what was coming like fireworks in a jar. He didn't think about what could possibly be at Ron's house, but nonetheless, he felt his own inexplicable excitement and threw the powder down before him, shouting, "The Burrow!"

He spun around and around, willing himself to go faster while pulling his arms tight against his sides, and landed with his feet planted firmly on the ground. He brushed the fireplace ash off his shoulders and shook his head vigorously like a dog to remove the ash from his hair and then stepped out of the fireplace and took a look around.

The Burrow was undeniably one of Harry's favorite places in the world. Every sight, every scent was welcoming. The tiny magical details were abundant inside and out, and the vibrant colors and diverse gadgets came together to make Ron's humble home a cozy haven.

He took a deep breath through his nose, breathing in every aroma and smiled as he looked at the broom sweeping the floor on its own accord. There was a 'whoosh' behind him and Ron landed in the fireplace amidst a cloud of ash and dust. Harry walked over and offered his hand, helping Ron up.

"So are you going to tell me why we're here now?" Harry asked Ron.

"Just hold your horses," Ron said. "Let's wait for Hermione first."

Ginny spoke up from across the room, where she was leaning on the kitchen table. "And Neville."

"Yeah, him too," Ron said, rolling his eyes privately for Harry.

The other two arrived and were soon followed by Mrs. Weasley.

"Come on," Ron said, leading the way. "We'll go out back."

Harry followed him, becoming more and more excited every moment. However, he wasn't expecting what he found waiting for him outside. There was a large picnic table hidden under food and brightly colored packages of varying shapes and sizes. What was more, there was a large group of people gathered around the table, conversing with one another. Harry beamed. It was just like one of Dudley's parties, only this time, it wasn't for Dudley; it was for him.

Ron put his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply beside Harry. All of the conversations stopped at once, as everyone turned their heads in their direction. The air hung silent for a split second and then a loud noise erupted again.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday Harry!"

Harry began to feel light-headed, as he looked around at the group of people gathered in celebration of his birthday. He never would have dreamed that he'd see some of the people there until the beginning of school. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were both there, standing close together in the front of the crowd. Luna Lovegood stood solitarily off a little ways from the bulk of the group, staring vaguely at her surroundings as if she had stumbled to the party on accident. Katie Bell was also there, standing with two other girls and a boy Harry wasn't expecting to see ever again: Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood; Alicia and Angelina had graduated a couple months ago, and Harry was incredibly aware of how weak Gryffindor's Quidditch team was going to be without them and the twins; Oliver, on the other hand, had been gone for over three years now and Harry was amazed he would take the time out of his grueling Quidditch schedule to come at all. There was a large group of Order members present as well. Tonks; Kingsley; Moody; Dedalus Diggle; Bill, Charlie, and Fred and George Weasley; as well as Geoff were gathered around the table, smiling jovially at Harry. Bill was accompanied by a witch with shining light blonde hair and unblemished clear skin: Fleur Delacour. One person in particular stood out to Harry, as he towered over all of the others, casting them in shadow. Hagrid, the very person who fetched Harry first from the ruins of his home then from the Dursleys was there, sweating profusely with his thick hair and heavy pants in the summer sun. At least he had the sense to wear a short-sleeve shirt, no matter how scruffy it was. There were also two teachers there whose presence astounded Harry most of all: McGonagall and Dumbledore. He hadn't seen McGonagall at the initiation and was not expecting to see her again until the school year; after all, she never even showed up at Grimmauld Place for a quick word or meal, unlike most others. Seeing Dumbledore sent a tingling thrill down Harry's spine. Last year Dumbledore would hardly look at him, and now he was standing at his birthday party. The gesture nearly knocked Harry off his feet.

Ron nudged him from behind. "Go on; go say hello to everyone!"

Harry walked up to Dumbledore first, Hermione and Ron accompanying him. Scatterings of conversation started up again as people began helping themselves to chips and other snacks from bowls on the table.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said respectfully, shaking his hand.

"Pleasure to see you again Harry," Dumbledore said vibrantly.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry continued, shaking her bony yet firm hand.

"How are you fairing, Potter?" she asked politely.

"Fine-Great," Harry said.

"Miss Granger; Mr. Weasley," McGonagall acknowledged with the slightest nods of her head, which Ron and Hermione returned politely.

"I wasn't expecting to see either of you until next term," Harry said to Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Well, we weren't too busy today," McGonagall began.

"Not to mention the fact that we were not about to miss a party," Dumbledore finished, smiling.

McGonagall's severe expression lightened as a rare smile flickered on her face, though it was so swift that Harry barely caught it.

"We won't keep you here, Potter," McGonagall said. "It was nice to see you outside of school for a change."

"You as well," Harry said.

"I'll see you three at the start of term," she said. "Remember your Transfiguration papers, will you?"

They all said they would, though when they turned to walk away Ron groaned lightly beside him. "Ugh. I had forgotten about that."

Harry welcomed several of the guests, including the Weasleys and the various Order members, and then they made their way over to Hagrid. He was talking animatedly, large jug of what appeared to Harry to be ale in hand, with Bill Weasley and to Harry's pleasure, yet Ron's dismay, Fleur.

"So I says to him, I says 'If yeh got a problem with the brute, then I might jus' know someone to take him off yer hands fer yeh.' O' course he was in'trested in that, couldn't turn it down- Harry! Ron, Hermione!"

Hagrid looked down at them from where he towered above.

"Hello Hagrid," Harry said, craning his neck in order to see Hagrid's face.

"How're yeh doin'?"

"Fine," he said.

"Good to hear it!" Hagrid said. "Happy Birthday! Another year already, eh? Time flies, don't it? Time sure flies." He smiled down at Harry, patting him on his shoulder, and in turn driving him a couple inches into the dirt ground. "I mean look at yeh. Wasn't too long ago I was watchin' yeh get sorted- just a little moppet-head. Now you're gettin' to be almost as tall as I am! I jus' wanted to tell yeh, Harry: yer growing to be a fine man, a fine man. Lord knows I'm proud of yeh."

"Thanks Hagrid."

"Yeah, well…" Hagrid said, eyes glistening a little from something other than the sun. "And how're yeh two doin'?" he asked Ron and Hermione.

"We're doing great Hagrid," Hermione said. "It's so good to see you again; we missed you at the initiation."

"Oh, tha'. I was busy, yeh know? Had some business ter be taken care of. Mainly caring fer the family. You should see 'im! He's grown so he can speak entire sentences now, if he feels like it. And he's stopped tearing up the trees, and-"

"That's great Hagrid!" Hermione cut in abruptly.

Bill and Fleur were standing right beside them, and although they were talking quietly themselves, they were more than close enough to overhear.

"You'll have to tell us more later! We'd love to hear, wouldn't we?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron said.

"Of course we would," Harry said.

"Alright," Hagrid said. "We'll have a lot better time with him this next year. Dumbledore's lettin' me keep him in the forest. He's a great man, Dumbledore." He grinned a lopsided grin. "Now, if yeh'll 'scuse me, I'm gonna find somethin' more ter drink." He lumbered off towards the coolers where the drinks were being kept, near the house, and he caused a few people to scoot out of his way quickly with his loopy walk.

"Someone's going to need to escort him home, at the rate he's going," Bill said, watching as Hagrid fumbled to open the cooler. He then addressed Harry. "Happy Birthday. I hope you enjoy the party."

"It's brilliant," Harry said. "Hi, Fleur. It's good to see you again."

"Why, thank yoo," she said, tossing her shimmering hair back with a flick of her head. "I told Bill I was looking forward to seeing yoo again," she continued, the flow of sentence broken up with some unnecessary pauses as she struggled slightly to speak in English, though Harry could already tell there was an improvement. "Gabrielle tells me to say hello."

"Oh, that was nice of her. How's she doing?"

"She iz to be attending Beauxbatons this year, as did I."

She stopped and glanced at Harry, looking him up and down as if he was cattle she was checking over before purchasing. "I must say," she said, still sizing him up, "that if I had been told you were competing this year, I would have no protest that you were too young."

Harry heard Hermione make a faint sound of clear distaste behind him.

"Um, thanks…I guess," Harry said awkwardly.

"Ok then," Bill said abruptly. "So, I guess we'll be seeing you around," Bill said, tips of his ears glowing crimson. "Let's go, dear," he said to Fleur. "I'd like you to meet someone else…" He led her off, keeping his arm around her shoulders as if he was afraid she would get lost or he had a mission to make sure everyone knew they were dating.

"Buh-bye, Harry!" she said, with a feeble wave over her shoulder. "Bill, I wasn't done talking to heem…"

"What was that all about?" Ron said, as they continued on towards Wood and the others.

"Beats me," Harry said.

"That girl drives me insane," Hermione said. She quickened her pace, and as she passed Harry was sure he heard her muttering, "The nerve…stupid vein phony…"

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched as he watched Hermione storm off.

"Potter! It's been a while." Wood stood before him with a glass of pop in his hand. He offered his free hand and Harry took it.

"I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again!" Harry said. "How're you doing?"

"I'm doing great, as a matter of fact. Quidditch is going well; they finally offered me a raise just recently, and the team's doing really well up against the competition. We're currently ranked 6^th in the league."

"That's excellent!" Harry said.

"So, how's Quidditch doing for you and Gryffindor? I heard Gryffindor won the cup last year?"

"Yeah, we did. I didn't really help much though."

Wood raised an eyebrow. "And why would you say that?"

"Well, I'm sure you've heard all about Umbridge…"

"Yeah, Angelina was just telling me when you came over."

"She gave me a life-long ban after I went after Malfoy at the end of a game."

Wood's eyes shot wide open. "I don't believe it!" he said in his thick Irish accent. "That little ball of slime, eh? I'm glad he finally got a bit of what he deserved."

"She banned Fred and George too," Angelina said, joining in the conversation. "Happy Birthday Harry."

He just managed to say a quick 'thanks' when Oliver spat out his drink, spraying it all over.

"Fred and George too?" he said disbelievingly.

"You heard me right," Angelina said. "And Fred didn't even do anything! I tell you what, that Umbridge woman was a real hag. I'm just glad you'll be rid of her this year."

Wood stood there with a stupid look on his face, as if he had just been hit with something and he still couldn't figure out what had happened.

"So, how'd Gryffindor win then?"

"Practice," Angelina said briskly, "And a miracle."

"Ginny Weasley became the new seeker and my friend Ron was made Keeper in your state," Harry explained.

"And Kirke and Sloper were made beaters. You probably don't know them. A couple of clumsy morons, quite frankly," Angelina said, arms crossed in front of her. "But I managed to whip them into shape after a bit."

Wood downed the rest of his drink. "Wow. Depressing, yet impressive at the same time. You'll be allowed back though now that Umbridge is gone, won't you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said bleakly.

"Don't kid yourself, Harry," Angelina said. "I'm sure they'll let you back. Ginny was good, but she doesn't come close to you; we all know it, including Ginny."

"I'm just not getting my hopes up," Harry replied.

Someone suddenly shouted his name from across the yard. "Harry! Come on over!"

He looked around to find Ron waving him over, standing with Dean and Seamus. Turning back to Angelina and Wood he said, pointing over his shoulder, "Uh, they're calling…"

"Go ahead," Angelina said.

"Good to see you again," Wood said, offering a smile, before he and Angelina turned back to Alicia and Katie.

Harry strode across the yard to where the guys were gathered, waiting impatiently for him.

"Hey Seamus, Dean," he said as he stopped near them.

"Harry you've got to get a load of this!" Ron said fervently, pointing to something Dean held in his cupped hand. Upon closer examination, Harry saw that it was a tiny remote of some kind.

"What's that for?" Harry asked him.

"Fart machine," Seamus said, grinning impishly in boyish amusement.

"I bought it in a joke shop in London this summer," Dean explained. "Great gag."

"So who are we going to plant it on?" Seamus asked quickly in an undertone. They were all standing in a close cluster near some bushes growing wildly along the Weasley house. They scanned the crowd through the corners of their eyes, being careful not to draw attention to themselves in case their joke was discovered, not that anyone was paying them any attention as it was.

Dean suddenly jerked his head to the left, indicating a possible victim a ways away. "How about Luna?"

"Nah, too mean," Ron said. This caused everyone to swivel their heads in his direction. Ron squirmed under their glance and added, "Plus, she's never exactly the center of a group, is she? How much good would it do? The point is for other people to hear it go off."

"Weasley's got a point," Seamus said, nodding his head. "I know. We could plant it on Hermione."

"Again, too mean," Harry said at once, dismissing the idea. "She wouldn't really appreciate the humor."

"Aw, come on…" Seamus urged.

"Fine," Ron said. "So long as you're willing to get her mad at you before school even starts. You can sit under her cold glare every time you're in the same room, or get points deducted for stupid little things like un-tucked shirts-"

"Alright, alright already," Seamus said. "I get your point. So, we'll just pick someone else. Ginny?"

"Nope," Dean said firmly. "She'd figure it out in a second. She did grow up with Fred and George, after all."

Seamus groaned, frustrated. "Well you choose who then!" he said, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I know," Harry offered. "We could do it to Hagrid. He's drunk so he wouldn't even notice. Probably would be asking who else did it while everyone knows it's coming from him. And he won't really mind when the joke's up."

"Nice," Dean agreed. "Who's going to plant it?"

"I will," Ron offered. "I'll just slip it into his pant pocket; he won't even be able to feel it through all of that fabric." He shook his head slowly back and forth. "I don't know how he survives the heat in those things."

Dean handed the actual device over: a little black box with a speaker built in that could be activated from 20 feet away with the remote. They sat back and watched as Ron strolled up to Hagrid casually with the box shoved in his pocket. Hagrid was sitting on a big log stump at one end of the picnic table with Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Fred, George, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, McGonagall and Neville. Ron stood right next to Hagrid, and although they couldn't hear what he was saying they could tell he was talking to him. Then, with a darting glance in their direction, he leaned across Hagrid to reach the chip bowl and deftly slipped the box into Hagrid's pocket in the process. He then said goodbye to Hagrid and came back towards them across the yard, shoving the handful of chips into his mouth and giving them a greasy thumbs-up sign.

"Let's go sit at the other end of the table," Ron said. "That way we can hear everything going on."

They took up seats on the two benches of the picnic table at the opposite end from everyone else, leaving some space in between. Harry grabbed a plate and helped himself to a brownie and some pretzels, as well as some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.

"We'll set it off when he's laughing or something," Dean whispered across the table. "It always works better that way. I've already tried it at a family reunion. Let me tell you, there's nothing funnier than a few drunken cousins who can't figure out what's going on for at least 15 minutes. They kept saying sorry and laughing like they truly believed they were doing it."

They all laughed when Luna suddenly plopped down right next to Ron, causing him to scoot over a little and knock Dean right off the end.

"Hey!" Dean said, getting off the ground. "What was that for?"

"Shh…keep it down," Harry cautioned. "We don't want anyone to pay us too much attention, remember?"

Dean brushed the dirt off his pants and came around to sit next to Seamus instead, as Harry and Seamus made room for him.

"Whatcha doing?" Luna asked airily, directing the question at Ron.

"Nothing," he said.

"Oh. You know, it's impossible to do nothing. Even when you're dead then you're lying there, or you're decaying or you simply exist in the state of death."

"Right," Ron said, shooting a glance at Harry and the others. "Umm, Luna," he continued, scooting down the bench a little ways from her. "Don't you have anything else you'd rather be doing? We're kinda having a private conversation."

"Nope, not really," she replied, picking at a loose splinter of wood in the table with her nail.

Ron shot another glance at them, this one even more desperate. Harry shrugged.

"Just go ahead with it," Harry told Dean.

Dean pulled out the remote from his pocket and kept it hidden in his hand, which he laid on the table casually. They watched and waited for Hagrid to laugh, and they didn't have to wait long. As soon as Hagrid threw his head back in a wild drunken hoot, Dean jabbed at the button in his hand with his thumb, and soon a loud farting noise erupted and resonated throughout the thick summer air and drowned out every other sound around. Every person sitting near him at the table simultaneously flicked their eyes on him in both questioning and aversion. Hagrid leaned forward and Dean pressed the button again. This time people began to catch each other's eye, and some waited for Hagrid to excuse himself.

"What's that you got?" Their attention was averted from Hagrid by Luna's sudden question. They found her indicating the remote in Dean's hand.

Dean hastily wrapped his hand tighter around it and pulled his hand in against his chest. "It's nothing," he told her. "Just a toy of mine."

"It looks like a remote to me," Luna persisted.

Dean looked around nervously, unsure of what to say, but Ron spared him the trouble. "Okay. If I tell you, will you promise to just keep quiet about it?"

Luna put her hand on her chest and said seriously, "Cross my heart."

"Fine. It's a remote. Alright? We're in the middle of a little gag on Hagrid. It controls a little fart machine we planted on him. Are you happy now?"

"Mhmm," she said contentedly. "But don't you think that's a little mean?"

Ron's patience was used up. "No. I don't, because it isn't." He looked at Dean. "Let's just carry on with it."

Dean smiled and pressed the button again, and again a loud offensive noise rang through the air. This time, everyone stopped talking and looked directly at Hagrid, awaiting an explanation. But Hagrid had noticed it too, and his brow furrowed a bit as he said, "Now, who did that? Yeh oughta fess up an' apologize."

Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Ron all stifled laughs, clamping their mouths shut or burying their face in their arm. Everyone was frowning at Hagrid, except Ginny and Neville who had caught each other's eye and were working hard not to burst out laughing like Harry and the others. A second later another one rang out, and this time Hagrid exclaimed, "Alright! Who keeps doin' that? It's mighty rude."

Clearly, nobody knew what to say, and they were all shifting in their chairs uncomfortably. Ron choked on his drink at Hagrid's confused and disapproving expression.

"Do really think that's funny Ronald?" Luna asked him, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, I do," Ron said, catching his breath again.

What happened next took them all by surprise. Luna looked at Ron for a few seconds and then burst out laughing, smacking her hand down on the table and throwing her head back. Ron nearly jumped off his seat and he looked slightly frightened by her. Seamus caught Harry's eye and he shrugged, not sure what was going on.

"Ha..heh…do it again!" Luna exclaimed it between laughing fits.

Dean pressed the button hesitantly, and this time Hagrid looked all around him, twisting in his chair, trying to identify the source and several people stood up and walked away.

"It's not funny Hagrid," Mrs. Weasley said sternly.

"Darn right, it ain't!" Hagrid exclaimed.

Luna's laugh escalated to a piercing volume and she clutched her sides and fell off the bench onto the ground, where she rolled around in a fit. This began to draw attention as Bill, Charlie and Mrs. Weasley all looked at her, questioning what was so funny.

"Stop it, will you?!" Ron muttered fervently, bending down and grabbing her arm to pull her back up to the table. "You're drawing too much bloody attention."

But it was already too late. Bill had noticed there was something suspicious and came up to them, questioning what was going on.

"What's so funny?" he asked, as Luna continued to giggle lightly. Ron nudged her in the ribs and she finally stopped. "You wouldn't happen to think Hagrid's little issue is, would you?"

"Nah, of course not," Seamus said.

"Ah. What's that you've got?" Bill asked Dean, as Dean covered his balled up fist containing the remote with his other hand spastically.

"Just some chips," Dean said, refusing to meet Bill's eyes.

"Oh, really? I love chips. Mind if I have one?" Bill reached out and pried open Dean's fist easily, snatching up the remote victoriously and examining it. "What do we have here?" he said, rotating it in his hand. Then what he did surprised Harry a little. He tossed it back onto the table and grinned. "Good gag. I've heard about these but never seen one. But the joke's over now. I'll retrieve your little machine for you and return it to you at the end of the day." He then walked back to the others and sat back down again, and when Harry heard Mrs. Weasley ask what was going on, Bill just shrugged and told her Seamus had just cracked a funny joke.

They were all thoroughly relieved, though none so much as Dean.

"Phew," Dean said, leaning back and using his legs to keep him from falling off the bench. "I thought we were in trouble."

"Nah," Ron dismissed with a careless wave of his hand. "Bill's not one to overlook the sense of humor in a situation, luckily."

Hermione, Neville, and Ginny soon came and joined them at the picnic table and were closely followed by their ex-classmates and any other stragglers for dinner. Mrs. Weasley had prepared a scrumptious meal for them all and at the end of the miniature feast Fred and Charlie suddenly appeared out of the kitchen carrying an enormous sheet cake between them. It was coated in vanilla icing and had the phrase 'Happy Birthday Harry' written on it and sixteen candles all around the edges. Everyone took time to sing 'Happy Birthday' to him in loud, raucous and joyous tones and Fred and George made up a little rap about him to go along with it. Then Dumbledore lit the candles with a wave of his hand and Harry was told to make a wish. He squinted his eyes tight and decided what to wish for right away: for a safe year with his friends. Taking a deep breath, filling his lungs to maximum capacity, he held it for a split second, said the wish in his head, opened his eyes and blew out every single last one of the candles with the single breath. He grinned as a cheer erupted and he was asked to slice the cake while everyone crowded around, picking their pieces.

After everyone had their fill and their pants felt considerably tighter, Charlie proposed to have a game of Quidditch. Someone went back to Grimmauld Place and collected Harry's broom from his room, along with Ron's new Flash. When people caught sight of Ron's broom, they clustered around in awe. Ron smiled proudly and gladly showed it to anyone who would look, then hopped on it for the first time.

"Ready to give our brooms a go, Harry?" he asked, straddling his broom.

"You have no idea how ready I am," Harry responded, as Ron and he both kicked off the ground at the same time, and he felt the whoosh through his hair and his spirits soar. A sense of exhilaration that overwhelmed him every time he took flight hit him now, and he grinned and took off as fast as he could, soaring up above the house, scraping the chimney with his toe, before zooming back around again and landing next to Ron, who had completed the lap before him with his advanced speed.

It was then Harry noticed how fast Ron had gone. It had only taken him about 5 seconds to circle the entire house and then touch back down again. He had been so busy enjoying the rush himself that he had failed to notice Ron zooming right past him.

"That was incredible!" Ron exclaimed, as more people began to goggle at his broom now that they had seen its capabilities. "I've never flown so fast before!"

"I want Ron on my team," Fred said, taking a step closer to Ron, claiming him.

"No, I believe he would rather be on my team," George said, grabbing Ron's arm and pulling him over to him. They began pulling back and forth on Ron's arms until Bill stepped forward, raising his hands in the air.

"Alright, alright- cut it out!" he yelled at Fred and George. They dropped Ron's arms in an instant and Ron stood there looking slightly breathless, but happy just the same. "I'll divide the teams. Let's see….Harry, you team up with Fred, Angelina, Charlie and Wood. Ginny, Ron, Katie, Alicia, George and I will be on the other team."

Harry was going to argue that Bill's team had more players, but when he realized who he had on his own team, he decided not to dispute it.

Geoff went to fetch the balls from the shed and then came center 'field' to referee (they were going to use Harry's snitch since the Weasleys didn't have a real one). The Weasleys had three round rings that appeared to be hula-hoops on either end of the yard. They weren't as tall as in real Quidditch but they served their purpose fairly well. The people who weren't playing decided to spilt up and cheer for different teams; Mrs. Weasley divided the group down the middle and they sat on the grass on either side of the yard. Harry noticed that Hermione was on the side cheering for him, sitting next to Seamus, and he smiled to himself as he mounted his broom and prepared to kick off.

Ginny was to be the opposing seeker, and he looked forward to seeing how her skills compared with his; she had, after all, managed to catch the snitch every game she played in last year- and that was as a rookie. Wood was their Keeper against Ron on the other team, Fred and George were the natural Beaters, and the others were to be Chasers.

Geoff tossed the very beaten and patched-up Quaffle high into the air, and the game began. Harry kicked off the parched dirt ground as hard as he could, zooming up into the air and searching for the snitch with beady eyes. Ginny was also sitting rather stationary on her broom on the other side of the field as Harry, eyes scanning the air around them for any sign of the tiny golden ball. Down below them, Angelina and Charlie were making straight for the hoops Ron was defending, deftly passing the Quaffle back and forth between each other. As they neared it, Angelina faked a pass to Charlie on her left and tossed it into the right goal hoop before Ron could turn himself back around. Soon after, a cheer erupted from their supporters.

Since there was no announcer, Harry was finding it difficult to keep track of the score while he was busy searching for the snitch. It grew so that whenever a cheer erupted, he would look down to see which side it was cheering, so he could determine who had scored. He flew up and around the house, still looking for the snitch with keen eyes, finding joy in playing his favorite game in the world after what had felt like such a long banishment. Looping back around the house to the field, he found George smash a bludger right at Charlie as he went to shoot, but Angelina swooped under him and snatched up the Quaffle. From where he was positioned behind the hoops Ron was defending, Harry could visibly see Ron tense up and Angelina swarmed towards him, and he suddenly lunged to the right and a second later had the Quaffle held up in his hand, and was chucking it downfield to Alicia.

Harry felt the urge to cheer but restrained himself since it was bad news for his team. Instead, he flew upwards again, high over the game, glancing around impatiently for the snitch. The sun was beginning to set below, casting a blood-red and purple glow over the ground, and the moon rose and began to shimmer all the more brightly, taking up the sun's place.

Ginny flew closer to him, shouting, "Have you seen it yet? You don't think it would have flown away, do you?"

"Nope, I…" Harry began, but then his attention was drawn to something else, as out of the corner of his eye he caught a glint of gold in a patch of trees. Without a second thought, he instinctively took off for the trees at full speed. He could hear Ginny behind him, gaining on the trees faster than him from her favored position. The crowd below noticed them taking off and Harry heard Hermione yell, "Go Harry!" at the top of her voice. He gripped his broom handle tighter and laid himself flat against the handle as he shot forward even faster into the thicket of branches, leaving Ginny straggling right behind him. The pokey braches cut at his arms and face, scratching him up, but he didn't take notice; now that he was in the race, nothing mattered other than grabbing the snitch. The little golden ball fluttered ahead and darted around through the thick cluster of trees, escaping his grasp. It then disappeared down through the canopy and Harry gritted his teeth and plunged down after it, covering his face with an arm as a myriad of thin branches smacked against him, stinging his exposed skin like an army of angry bees. He kept his eyes squinted for protection but open enough to see that he was gaining on the ball. It got caught on a branch, giving Harry the advantage that he needed, and he extended his arm out as far as it would go and snatched up the snitch, ending the game in seclusion.

Looking up through the branches, he saw Ginny abandon her pursuit and find a way out of the grove, and Harry tried to find the easiest way out too. At the bottom a shaft of soft light poked through the branches, gathering in a little pool. However, there was no room to fly so he planted his feet on a thick branch and lowered his broom to the ground as far as he could before allowing it to drop a few feet in the end. He then climbed down the tree as swiftly as he could by using the hand the snitch wasn't held in to balance. His shirt got snagged on some tiny protruding braches several times, tearing tiny holes in it before he was low enough to swing himself down to the ground. He then crawled out below the branches where there was a little opening and stood up as soon as he had cleared the overhang. He found himself on the other side of the large cluster of trees from the group, facing the sunset, which was now a brilliant combination of splashes of red, pink, gold, and purple. Smiling at the beautiful sight, he walked back around the trees to the other side, raising the snitch in his hand to signal the end of the game. Geoff saw him first and whistled for the game to end, just as Alicia was going to shoot. The players all looked around to see who had caught it, and soon his team was cheering loudly as were their supporters off to the side.

Ginny approached him from the spot nearby where she had just landed and held out her hand for him to shake. "Good game," she said, as they customarily shook hands.

"You too," Harry said. "You're a great flyer, you know."

"Thanks," she replied, "But I'm nothing compared to you."

Harry smiled uncomfortably while his team came over to thump him on the back in celebration.

As the crowd began to disperse, Harry found Ron dangling off to the side a little ways patiently.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, "great game. You had some excellent saves there."

"You think so?" Ron asked. "Thanks. Did you see when I caught Angelina's shot? She tried to feint but I remembered that she liked doing that a lot so I swerved over and found I was right about her plans."

"Yeah, I was right behind you that time, looking for the snitch."

"I saw how scraped up your arms were- ouch."

"I'm just glad my snitch didn't get its wings caught up on some branches and torn."

"Yeah. It's too bad that Alicia and Angelina aren't going to be on the team again this year. Any idea about who will fill the open positions?"

"Dunno. Hopefully there's some good new talent in the younger years though, or else we're doomed. Of course, we do have a Flash on our side now…even Malfoy won't have one of those."

"Yeah…yeah, we do. That's bound to count for something. I've already improved from it, honestly I have. Let them try to get past me now." Ron pounded his chest with his fist proudly. Then Bill called out his name from across the yard, and Ron set off toward him obediently.

Unable to resist, Harry hopped back on his broom for a quick ride around the tree cluster. He hugged the trees tight as he skimmed along the edges of the branches. When he touched back down again, he found Hermione standing there waiting for him to land. He hoisted his broom up onto his shoulder and headed over to her, smiling from the lasting effects of exhilaration.

"I watched you dive into the trees, but after that I couldn't see anything," Hermione said after congratulating him. "After about a minute or two, Ginny emerged, but it was impossible to tell what had happened to you." Her eyes scanned his scraped arms and face and she winced. "Here, let me heal these…"

He stood still as she ran her hands gently over the cuts on his cheeks, and he cringed slightly when her hand brushed one. Then she pulled her wand out of her jean pocket and said, "Amenden ," as she pointed it at his face, then his arms and legs. A minute later there was no trace of any blemish left on his skin.

"Wow. Thanks Hermione. I didn't know you could do that."

She smiled but kept her modest composure. "I just learned this summer, really. After everything that happened last year, I realized how unprepared we were to deal with injuries. But it isn't that powerful," she continued, looking slightly more downcast. "It can only mend minor cuts and the like- no internal injuries. A truly effective spell would be much harder to come by; only a few wizards have ever accomplished much when it comes to immediate, on-site treatment of injuries."

Harry scoffed. "It's still better than I can do, and it's still useful."

Hermione's slight frown vanished from her brow and her lit up again. "Shall we join the others for the bonfire?"

"There's a bonfire?" Harry said, heading across the yard with his Firebolt in hand.

"Well, there will be within the next few minutes. The Weasleys have a pit around to the back of the house."

Upon approaching the pit, they found a fire already roaring, its color corresponding perfectly with the last remaining tendrils of orange and red still vaguely visible on the rim of the horizon. People were already gathering around on stumps and backless wooden benches that encircled the fire. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley, Dedalus, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley all sat in chintz armchairs back a little ways from the fire which Harry suspected were produced by Dumbledore.

He and Hermione found a space open on the end of a bench and listened to Bill tell a creepy ghost story that was actually true, though at one time Harry would have believed it to be a simple scary fabrication. As Bill's voice rang out through the air and everyone listened and enjoyed the story silently, darkness enveloped them until the only source of light left was the crackling fire.

"And nobody has heard any word of the prince since, though some say that there still remains a ghost deep in the woods of Romania who knows exactly what happened to him: the ghost of the prince himself."

A shiver ran through every person as Bill's story came to an end, and it was soon pushed aside by applause. Bill stood and took a bow. Then Mrs. Weasley stood and said, "Time to roast some marshmallows. Who's up for one?"

Sixteen hands shot into the air at once. Harry had never roasted a marshmallow before in his life, but Dudley had tried to roast one over the living room fire once out of desperation for some after seeing some people on the television doing it (after being kicked out the living room for making a sticky mess all over the fireplace and floor, he resorted to cooking some in the microwave- an act not well thought over.)

The next few minutes were spent hunting for sticks to use as skewers and distributing marshmallows to everyone who wanted one. After brushing off the sticks to the best of their capabilities and shoving the marshmallows on, everyone took turns holding their sticks over the fire. Hermione, who had been camping before, patiently demonstrated how to rotate the stick like a rotisserie and avoid allowing the sweet white puffs to get too close to the flames. After one failed attempt, during which the marshmallow slid off the stick and burnt to a crisp in the fire, Harry got the hang of it and soon had a close-to-perfect golden brown morsel to eat. Ron, on the other hand, was not doing so well. After spending five precious minutes tenderly allowing his marshmallow to toast, an unexpected flame leaped up at it and in a matter of a second wrapped itself around it; Ron swore and blew on it hard until the fire went out, but by that point, the previously white marshmallow was charred black. He stared at it with slumped shoulders and a defeated creased brow.

"You can still eat it," Hermione said and Ron replied by tearing his gaze away from his ruined masterpiece and frowning at her instead. "Never mind then," she corrected, turning back to her own over the fire in order to avoid the same thing happening to it.

Ron made to dump it into the fire, but at the last second Seamus snatched it up, exclaiming, "I'll take it!" and popped it into his mouth. Ron watched, dismayed, as Seamus wolfed it down and then proceeded to burn his own and repeat the process. He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye but Harry just laughed and shrugged.

After everyone had their fill of marshmallows (apparently Seamus' fill was 14), they all sat back calmly and watched the fire flicker. The flames of the fire licked at the sky like an assemblage of serpents shooting into the air with daring tongues stabbing out above themselves before shrinking back into the glowing embers in a retreat of a soft orange glow. They danced around the logs in brilliant flashes and streaks, throwing bursts of heat outwards into the warm summer air with every movement. Just one glance at the gleaming red underside of the logs, and Harry felt a trace of their heat in his fingertips as if he had actually reached his hand into the flames and touched them.

Presently, a log shifted, sending burning sparks soaring out at them. A couple of the ablaze ashes landed on Hermione's lap, and Harry and Ron were both on it at once, brushing the burning remnants off her legs before she even had time to react herself.

"Did they burn you?" Harry asked, searching her jeans for scorched holes.

"No, I'm fine," she said with a nervous laugh that seemed to release some of the tension she felt. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"Well, as long as you're alright then…" Ron said. He shot an apprehensive glance at the fire. "But perhaps we should scoot back a bit, just to be on the safe side in case it happens again."

Towards the end of the night, Dumbledore rose and cast a spell on the fire, causing it to glow in colors unimaginable. It was like a mini fireworks display contained within the fire. There were many appreciative 'ooos' and 'ahs' that broke the otherwise silence of the calm night. At the end, as the dancing colors died down and everyone began to feel a bit tired, Fred and George lit one of their Catherine Wheels and allowed it to soar all over the sky.

At 2:00 a.m. people began to arrive by floo powder to pick the younger kids up, and the others all disapparated back home with a quick hug or a wave goodbye and a final wish of 'Happy Birthday.' Harry was sorry to see many of them go, as he was aware it would be a long time until he saw them again. At least he knew he was going back to Hogwarts with some of them, and knowing that helped a bit. The Weasleys, Hermione, Neville and he all worked for a while to help clean up the yard and the kitchen, then a few of them grabbed some of the gifts off the table and he, Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Neville, and Ginny each traveled back to Grimmauld Place through the floo.

As everyone arrived and headed groggily upstairs to drop the packages in Harry's room, Harry held back in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he said.

"Yes dear?" she replied, turning from the sink and facing him.

He walked right up to her and wrapped his arms around her as far as they could reach and said faintly, "Thank you."

She hugged him back and said, "It was nothing Harry. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." They released each other and Mrs. Weasley brought a dishrag up to the corners of her eyes. "Run along now, before you get me all teary-eyed."

Harry grinned and followed her orders, heading back up to his room where he found a small pile of gifts and Ron and Hermione all awaiting him on the floor.

"Where's Neville and Ginny?" Harry asked.

"They went to bed," Ron said. He yawned. "Which I'm about to do as well. Hurry up."

"Hey, I just wanted to thank you guys for any part you played in organizing the party. It was the best time of my life, my best birthday ever."

Hermione and Ron smiled sleepily with droopy eyes. "We didn't do much," Ron told him, "basically made the guest list. It was mostly my mum's doing."

"Well, I thanked her already, but if you could mention to her how much I appreciate it, that'd be good."
Ron nodded his head and then allowed himself to lie down on the blanket thrown hastily on the ground for them to sit on.

"Open mine first," he yawned, "before I fall asleep. It's the one with the newspaper wrapping."

Harry searched through the pile and sure enough, one box was covered in random pages of the Daily Prophet. Tearing the moving pictures apart, Harry found a large bag of Fizzing Whizbees inside, accompanied by an entire bag of Nosebleed Nougats, Puking Pastilles, and Fainting Fancies from Fred and George's shop.

"Thanks Ron; a whole new supply for the school year- excellent."

"Don't mention it," Ron said, finally allowing himself to close his eyes. He was out cold in a matter of seconds, before Harry opened any of his other gifts.

"Open mine next Harry," Hermione said, handing him a relatively small, narrow box. He took it, trying to guess what was inside but failing dismally; he would have never been able to guess. In the box lied a brand new, shiny quill. He looked at its handsome mahogany finish and dark, fluffy feather in a curious amazement and puzzlement.

"A quill..." he said, taking it out. He liked it a lot, but to be honest he had no need for another quill, as nice as this one was.

"It's not just any quill," Hermione said enthusiastically. "It's an Automated Script Quill."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"Here, let me show you," she said, taking it and setting it down on the underside of the green wrapping paper that she had wrapped it in. Instead of writing with it, she set it down directly upright on the paper and then removed her hand, and the quill remained poised upright on the paper without any visible support.

Harry's jaw slowly began to drop, and then fell open completely as he witnessed what happened next. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the quill, and it suddenly began moving, all seemingly of its own accord. But then Harry realized that Hermione was controlling it with only her mind- telling it what to write. She stopped concentrating on the quill and allowed it to fall, and there on the paper was the neatly written phrase, "See- it's not just any quill."

"That's amazing!" Harry exclaimed, taking the quill back in his hands.

Hermione smiled at his approval. "And that's not all…" she continued, pointing at the script. "It writes in the handwriting of whoever is controlling it, so the professors will never know you're using one."

"Incredible! Wait a minute- are these against the rules then?"

Hermione shifted slightly where she sat. "Well…not technically. They only ban certain Quick Quills and things like that- not Automated Script Quills. So, you can't really get in trouble; but I sill wouldn't allow the teachers to see it if I was you, because they'd probably confiscate it."

"I can still use it on all of my homework though," Harry said, more to himself than to her.

Then her enthusiasm mounted again, as she said, "Well, not necessarily only on homework. You see, since I knew that would be a problem, and you'd probably not want too many people knowing you have one in the first place- they're quite rare, you know; it took me forever to even find this one and it was the only one left available- so I added a little feature of my own. Just hold the quill tightly in your hand, really focus on what you're going to do, and say, "concēlāre."

As soon as she said the spell, the quill suddenly disappeared altogether, though Harry noticed her hand was still positioned oddly as if she held it. He watched, awestruck, as she said, "expōnere," and the quill appeared again in her hand.

"You thought of that?" Harry said, still admiring it.

"Mhmm," she replied, handing the quill back over.

"But, what if I lose it when it becomes invisible?" he asked, beginning to worry that he'd do just that out of clumsiness.

"Oh, it's not a problem; if you cast the spell, then you can still see it. I thought of that too, knowing that you were bound to lose something invisible after a while."

"It's brilliant, Hermione," Harry said, carefully placing the quill back in its leather carrying case. He then leaned over and gave her a huge, warm hug. As soon as their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, Harry found he didn't really want to let go. However, the hug didn't last long as Hermione pulled back and then curled up on the floor with her head near Ron's.

"I'll try to stay awake," she said, stifling a yawn, "but I'm not promising anything."
He set to opening the rest of the packages, though his eyes kept traveling over his quill and Hermione, with her eyes closed peacefully on the ground beside him. Before long she had fallen asleep, and Harry allowed himself to watch her chest rise and fall with her calm breathing. A few minutes later, a Quidditch Players Collection Card Set with a lot of autographs scribbled on the trading cards, including Krum's, Troy's and Wood's; a bag of special owl treats for Hedwig; some rock-hard handheld cakes; a bag of Dungbombs; two of Fred and George's latest inventions: two miniature vials with blue liquid and green liquid that would, when a few drops were poured into someone's drink, cause them to lose their voice for an hour or yell out an insult at the first teacher they approached; a new set of potion vials; a t-shirt with a lion emblem sewn on; a wrist watch that could tell the time anywhere in the world on command; a few new Defense Against the Dark Arts spell books; a grey knit cap sewn by Dobby; and-to his surprise- a spell book on Advanced Charms from Professor Dumbledore, all lay at his feet. He barely had time to register what he had received before he lied down with his head near Ron and Hermione's and fell fast asleep.

August passed by too quickly for Harry's liking, but it was enjoyable just the same. They finished reading through all of their text books; many days were spent taking turns reading aloud to one another. However, as the school year neared, Harry found himself looking forward to returning to Hogwarts; being stuck in Grimmauld Place was beginning to nag at him.

They all awoke early on the morning of September 1^st, wolfed down a quick breakfast, grabbed their trunks and other various belongings, and headed out to a Ministry Car with an Expanding charm placed on the interior. Harry had read about how to cast that spell in his new Charms book, which he had enjoyed skimming through. As soon as Hermione had seen it, she had gone nuts over it, reading every page religiously with sharp eyes. After a smooth car ride through the city, with Kingsley driving, they reached Kings Cross and shoved their way out of the car and grabbed their trunks from the back. Kingsley, who had to return to work, said a quick goodbye and then hopped back into the car again and zoomed off. They had half an hour before the train departed, so they dawdled for a little while in the station, posing as a group for a picture for Mrs. Weasley and purchasing drinks from a concession stand. Then they took turns passing through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, cautious not to draw attention to themselves.

Harry and Ron went through together, and the sight of the scarlet steam engine billowing steam and whistling impatiently was enough to bring a smile to Harry's face. They all said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley and thanked her for her hospitality, though she insisted that it was Harry's house, not hers, so no thanks were necessary. Then they walked down the length of the train, searching for an empty compartment, and found one near the middle of the train. After hauling their trunks up the steps and shoving them under their seats, Ron and Hermione announced they had to start their rounds for prefect duty.

"Who knows how long we'll be," Hermione said, dragging her robes and Prefect badge out of her trunk. "But if I was you, I wouldn't hold my breath. I heard that, being 6^th years, we have a long shift."

"Ugh, I hate prefect duties," Ron said, scowling as he attached his badge to his robe front. "It takes up so much bloody time. I mean, we aren't even at school yet and we're already being sent to work."

"Stop complaining, Ron. It's a responsibility that you were absolutely brimming about last year- they're not going to say 'oh, now that you're 6^th years, you don't have any duties- but keep the badge and the title'. Besides, it's also an honor to some degree."

"Yeah- an honorable pain-in-the-rear."

Hermione turned a stern look on him but he simply smirked and she turned away again, ignoring him.

"Alright, see you lot later. Maybe I'll run into Goyle and find an excuse to deduct points. Or Crabbe…or Nott…Anyway, grab something off the trolley for me, will you?" he asked Harry.

"Sure…I'll c'ya later."

Ron and Hermione both left the compartment and slid the door closed behind them. However, before they got very far, they bumped into someone walking straight ahead without caring to look where she was going. Harry heard the faint "Ronald" Luna muttered and watched as Ron flattened himself against the wall and sidled past her with a quick "hello." A few seconds later the compartment door slid open once again and Luna came bobbing in, dragging her trunk behind her. She had abandoned her radish earrings, and opted for a pickle necklace instead. Her bright blonde hair was pinned up in a messy lopsided bun behind her, crazy hairs sticking out from every angle. She had her wand behind her ear like a pencil, and carried a copy of the Quibbler in one hand.

"Great weather we're having today isn't it?" she said brightly, before even saying a simple 'hello.'

Harry looked through the window and out at the grey sky with dark clouds rolling in.

"There's room for your trunk over here, Luna," Ginny said, shoving Harry's trunk over with her foot and leaving room for Luna to sit next to him. Wanting to get a window seat, Harry scooted over towards the window with his trunk.

"So, did you hear about Fudge?" Luna said, after they were all situated.

"No. What about him?" Ginny asked.

"They found him hiding on the Galapagos Islands, with the Komodo Dragons."

"Did they really?" Ginny responded.

Neville spoke up, arguing against it. "No, they didn't. My Gran says that rumor is rubbish. I don't think they're ever going to find him, unfortunately."

"They have pictures!" Luna exclaimed, waving her copy of the Quibbler upside down in Neville's face.

Ginny snatched it out of Luna's hands and flipped through to the article on Fudge impatiently.

"There's nothing in here but some man's backside in a tropical forest!"

"No, that's Fudge. He likes living with the lizards, because he can talk to them."

Ginny raised an eyebrow and handed the magazine back to Luna.

"Is there such a thing? Talking to lizards, I mean," Harry said.

"Of course," Luna said, looking at him as if he was the stupidest person on the face of the earth. "I just said Fudge can talk to them, didn't I?"

With that Luna buried her face in the magazine and Ginny shook her head 'no' fervently.

The train lurched to a start, wheels churning and the whistle blowing as it started out of the station. Harry watched the platform pass by with growing excitement, eager to be back at Hogwarts again, despite the school work that accompanied his residency. Nine hours passed by with random discussions and a stop of the food trolley. Since Ron had neglected to return, he purchased a bag of Bertie Bott's Beans and a couple Chocolate Frogs for him. As time passed, he began to feel a little more groggy, and spent all of his time wondering what classes he would be assigned to, what the new first years would be like, if he would be allowed to play Quidditch again, and how much time Ron and Hermione would have to spend without him on their Prefect duties this year. He hoped it wasn't much.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far. As you've probably already seen, I'm responding to them individually on the review page, so you won't see any personalized 'thanks' in the story. Yeah, I realize this one was really long. Did you like it? Please be as specific as you possibly can be.