Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Key of Serendipity

Chapter Two- A Bittersweet Sixteen

Harry pounded his bloody fists into the punching bag that was being stabilized by his cousin.

It had been a month since the two boys shook hands on their deal, and so far things were going good. Dudley's grades had improved from Harry's' tutoring and Aunt Petunia was rather impressed by both boys.

There was a noticeable change in Harry's form. He was actually starting to look like a boy who was nearing his sixteenth birthday. He was nearly six feet tall (probably still shorter than the ever sprouting Ron), but instead of being the bony and scrawny 'boy-who-lived', he was the tall, well toned 'boy-who-lived'.

Harry had even noticed a six-pack forming while studying his (shirtless) figure in the mirror the other day.

Harry staggered over to the corner of the basement and slumped his body down the wall.

Dudley shook his head and took a seat next to his cousin, "you sure have a lot of anger, Potter."

"Yeah---well the world has screwed me over a few times. You would to if you were destined to be the boy…" Harry stopped mid-sentence, realizing he was about to reveal the prophecy made about him, and to none other than Dudley!

"The boy who what? Does this have to do with that guy you were yelling one night in your sleep…Sirius?"

"He is--was my godfather, he died because of me, just like Cedric and my mum...they all died because of me." Harry slowly told the events of his years at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, including the Prophecy, something he had yet to tell Hermione or Ron.

Dudley eyed his cousin. The boy he had come to fear was…well was just a boy. A boy who had lost so much, and stood to lose so much more if he didn't kill. "But you didn't kill them, that Lord Voldawart, or whatever his name is, did."

"Voldemort, killed them because of me! Why can't anybody see that!"

Dudley shook his head, not at all phased up Harry's outburst. "And I thought you were the smart one. He killed them for power, Potter. Anybody can see that. If he kills you, the one that he marked as his 'equal' there will be nobody else that will be considered a threat to him. It's up to you, Potter. Let that bloody bastard get what he deserves."

"But I have to become a murderer."

"He killed your mum and dad! When you kill him, you won't be a murderer, you'll be a hero…well at least to all those people of your…kind. I mean, come on, you did that thing to those thingies last summer…"

Harry let out a small chuckle; killing Voldemort was going to be a lot harder than performing a simple Patronus Charm. He was already a hero to wizards and witches around the world, he was the 'boy who lived'.

Oddly enough, though, Dudley's words seemed to help Harry deal with the prophecy that was marked for him. It came from someone who knew him as a boy and not a young, powerful, famous wizard.

And even though, Harry was already a so-called hero, it was up to him. Not Dumbledore, and not anybody from the Order of Phoenix, and no matter how much it scared Harry, he knew for once, Dudley was right.

He had to do this, or otherwise in Dudley (and Ron's words), the world was doomed.

Feeling a new since of…not exactly pride, but something like it, Harry wrote to his two best friends for the first time all summer. He started with Ron's knowing it would be easier.

Ron,

I'm sorry I haven't replied back to your letters. I just needed time to be left alone and sift through my thoughts. Sirius' death was hard on me, and I know it was hard on several other people, but that wasn't the only thing on my mind.

The events from the night of the department of mysteries keep on replaying in my mind. I could've gotten you and Ginny killed, I'm sure your mum isn't too happy with me, which is completely understandable.

I haven't forgiven myself yet, so how can I expect other people to?

Again, Ron, I'm really sorry.

Harry

Setting the piece of parchment to the side, he began Hermione's.

Hermione,

I'm sorry.

Harry had so much to say, but couldn't find the words to write it out in a letter, it would be easier to tell her in person.

Thank you, for always being a good friend.

After sending Hedwig off with the two letters, Harry went to sleep, and for the first time in months, it was a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Harry had been woken up bright and early by several different owls zooming over his head and dropping parcels on his bed. Once releasing his body from the tangled form of his sheet, Harry rushed to the window and opened it before the owls woke up Aunt Petunia. At least Uncle Vernon wasn't home to yell at him.

The only ones that stayed behind were Pig and a brown owl that he suspected to be the one that Hermione borrowed (she had yet to get an owl of her own).

Hedwig must have not made it to his friends before they sent out his gifts.

One by one, Harry sifted through his presents. He wasn't at all surprised to see a package from Neville Longbottom. (Harry had found a book that once belonged to his parents, which focused heavily on herbology, and knowing it to be Neville's specialty, he sent it to Neville for his birthday). Although, he was a little stunned to see packages and letters from Oliver Wood (former keeper and captain of Gryffindor's quidditch team), Dean Thomas, and several other of Harry's acquaintances from Hogwarts, that although they were on good terms, weren't necessarily friends.

Harry, not remembering having so many presents in his life, savored the moment (unlike Ron, who, no matter the amount would have them all open in sixty seconds or less). From, Oliver, he had received a years subscription to the popular quidditch magazine, 'sweeping the air' and several tickets to Puddlemore United games (one which happened to be against the Chudley Cannons). Dean Thomas, sent Harry a t-shirt with the West Ham logo ('your clothes look to be at least two times your size') and Neville sent him a wand holder, which was charmed so only the owner could pull out the wand (Neville's gran had bought him one along with a new wand).

Harry moved on to the stack of presents from several members of the Weasley family. Ron, with the usual, several dozen chocolate frogs (ever since their first meeting on the Hogwarts express Harry had taken up his own collection of chocolate frog cards and always seemed to find one he needed from a frog that was given to him by Ron). Fred and George had sent him a variety pack of several joke items (some yet to be sold to the public, sighting safety reasons). Mr. Weasley sent Harry a muggle product, which was a case to hold his glasses in; Mrs. Weasley sent him a basket of cauldron cakes and from Ginny, Harry received the revised edition of Quidditch Through the Ages.

Harry had piled all the unopened letters into a small stack on his desk, he would get to them later.

Noticeably absent from his pile of gifts however, was one from Hermione. At this, Harry's heart sunk. Knowing Hermione though, she probably had a good reason. And indeed she did. Harry had untied the letter that was addressed to him from Hermione.

Happy Birthday, Harry!

I'm hoping you will at least respond to this letter. I would've been over there by now, but according to Miss. Figg you're still alive and Professor Dumbledore insists you will talk when you are ready.

So how does it feel to be sixteen?

You're probably wondering where your present is. Well, it's just too big to send with an owl, but I promise it will be well worth the wait (I hope). Hopefully I will be able to give it to you soon. Professor Dumbledore has yet to say when you will be returning to Headquarters. I know you were planning on returning to the Burrow, but he insists that headquarters is much safer.

Well, I can't wait to see(and talk) to you, Harry!

Happy Birthday!

Love, forever and always,

Hermione

Harry's mind was running with gifts that would be too big to send by owl post. Usually Hermione just stuck with books. Then a sudden thought struck him; maybe the book was too big to be sent by owl!

Harry shook the thought from his mind and took a quick shower before changing into a pair of new pants and his West Ham t-shirt. He decided to get breakfast started and began his trek downstairs.

Although he didn't get very far, not even out of the threshold of his door.

Opening his bedroom door, Harry came face to face with Dudley. "morning, Dud."

"Hey, potter." He shoved what looked like a card collecting binder into Harry's hands, "sorry I didn't have time to wrap it. but those cards you collect, you can have something to put them in."

Harry smiled genuinely, "thanks."

This summer had certainly been the summer of change. He and Dudley had become…well had become to actually acting like what they were: Cousins. And Aunt Petunia, well Harry was still somewhat confused by Aunt Petunia's behavior. One minute she was treating him like her nephew, the next, as if he was still the scrawny little boy who lived beneath the stairs. It was like she was fighting with her own demons and couldn't find a common ground on what to do with him.

And then, later on in the day, Harry understood.

It was almost noon, and Dudley was still off at summer school, so it was just Harry and his aunt. He was starting down the steps to make himself some lunch, but came to a sudden halt when he heard voices, one of them was clearly Aunt Petunia, she sounded upset, and angry.

The other, well Harry couldn't quite figure it out. The deep, calm voice sound very familiar, but Harry couldn't seem to place it with a face.

"Petunia, you must come to terms that he's not Lily."

"But he's her son! How am I supposed to look into the those eyes everyday and not see my sister? Or not feel angry at her for winning the love of our parents?"

"Petunia, you have every right to be angry. But you've taken it out on Harry way too long. He doesn't deserve to be treated the way you were treated as a young girl. It's not his fault."

"I know."

Aunt Petunia moved back from the fireplace and Harry had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from letting a gasp escape. Dumbledore was talking to Aunt Petunia through the fire?

"Now let's get on with the reason you wished to talk to me. You say Harry is coming to terms?"

Aunt Petunia nodded, "yes. He and Dudley have started to accept each other and Dudley, in some way or another is helping Harry come to terms with…everything."

"And I suppose you are starting to do the same? You did give him his parents' belongings, am I correct?" Aunt Petunia once again, nodded, but stayed quiet. "well then, make sure Harry is ready by eight o'clock this evening." And with that said, Albus Dumbledore pulled his head from the green flames.

Harry didn't give his aunt a chance to tell him to pack; he was already up the stairs and shoving his belongings into his trunk when Aunt Petunia entered.

Petunia let herself in and glared at Harry, "I suppose you were listening in on my conversation with your Professor?"

Harry thought carefully about how to respond to her question, "I came down to get some lunch when I saw Professor Dumbledore's head in the fire telling you I needed to be ready by eight."

She watched Harry suspiciously, "is that all you heard?"

"Yeah. Is there something else I should know?"

"No. Nothing at all."

Harry nodded and his aunt left him alone to finish packing up his belongings. As the minutes went on, Harry continued on packing but soon discovered not everything would fit into his trunk (something Harry never thought would happen).

But once again, Dudley came to his rescue.

After coming home from what Dudley said was a rather easy day at summer school, he learned from Petunia that Harry would be leaving after dinner. Immediately, noticing Harry's troubles, Dudley handed Harry a rather new looking duffle bag to stuff the rest of his belongings in (mainly clothes).

So for the now sixteen-year-old Harry Potter, the next several hours dragged on rather slowly. By the time seven o'clock rolled around, Harry had just finish taking a shower and dressing into some of his new clothes. He chose a new green t-shirt (for which he could hear Mrs. Weasley commenting how it brought out his emerald eyes) and a clean pair of jeans. He even tried to comb his hair flat, but to no avail, it stuck up the same as always.

Harry came down to the kitchen to find Aunt Petunia dressed in some of her finest clothes, and to his surprise, so was Dudley. Aunt Petunia had made a seemingly large dinner and the two Dursleys' were sitting at the table (food untouched), waiting for his arrival.

"You didn't have to wait on me."

"Well you're here now, so take a seat and dig in." Right after the words left Petunia's mouth, Dudley had gone straight for the chicken. Harry shook his head, Dudley may have turned some of his fat into muscle, as a result of boxing; but he still liked to eat.

The next sixty minutes ticked on and Harry, along with his aunt and cousin sat in the living room, anxiously waiting. No one knew for sure how Harry was being picked up. But they were about to find out as the clock stroked eight.

For a brief second, the house was dead quiet, and then they heard it; the doorbell.

Petunia nearly jumped out of her skin, but quickly recomposed herself and went to answer the door, with Harry just a few steps behind her.

"Harry!" the door had been pulled open and before he could comprehend what was happening, a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight, yet warm embrace. "Oh Harry! You don't know how happy I am to see you!"

By now, Hermione had pulled back enough to look Harry in the face. Tears were threatening to stream down her flushed cheeks. "I was so worried about you! And then when I got your last letter, oh I was so happy! And then when Professor Dumbledore told us that today was the day you were being picked up, eight o'clock just didn't come soon enough! And Hedwig, I was so happy to see her; she's at the burrow at the moment and should be arriving with the Weasleys'. And--"

"Hermione?" Harry stifled a laugh at his best friend; sometimes she could just go on and on. "I'm really glad to see you, too."

Her cinnamon orbs watered once again, as her face turned crimson. "I was rambling, wasn't I?"

Harry nodded, "but it's ok. We have a lot of catching up to do." Harry released himself from Hermione's arms and turned at the four other occupants in the room, "this is my cousin, Dudley and my Aunt Petunia."

At the sound of his name, Dudley snapped out of his reverie to find his mouth hanging open. Shutting it, he gave Hermione a smile. "Hi."

The awkward silence continued on until Mr. Granger, cleared his throat, "well, we're on a tight schedule, so we really must be going." he pointed to the trunk, "this yours, Harry?" Harry nodded, and Hermione's father took it to the car.

Mrs. Granger smiled warmly at Harry, "why don't you say your good-byes, dear."

Harry nodded and turned to his aunt, it was quite an uncomfortable moment, "er-uh, I guess I'll see you next summer. Good-bye."

"Yes, I suppose we will see you then, stay out of trouble."

Hermione raised a brow at this, but Harry didn't seem phased. "I'll try, but we both know how trouble seems to find me."

He turned to his cousin, "thanks again for…everything, Dud."

Dudley nodded, "Just make sure you give that Voldy-git what he deserves."

Harry's trademark, crooked smile invaded his features, "I definitely will, Dudley. Who knows, I might even try out the triple pounder on him."

After several lingering seconds, Harry grabbed his duffle bag and followed the Grangers' to their car parked out front. The ride had been silent for several minutes, until Hermione finally huffed and turned to him, "so are you going to explain to me what that was about?"

Harry shrugged, "we just…came to an understanding."

"I'll say! They were actually treating you human!"

"That's quite and understatement, Hermione…" Harry filled her in on the events of his summer. Everything from being 'Harry hunted,' to getting new clothes and working out with Dudley.

"I thought your hair looked shorter. It looks good, not too short, but yet not too long." She smiled, and tugged slightly at the short sleeve of his t-shirt, "the green matches your eyes."

"Er-thanks." Harry felt the red creep into his cheeks at Hermione's words and turned to look out the window. "So umm…we're going to Headquarters, right?"

Hermione nodded, "yes. But just you and me." She picked up a pair of old sunglasses that were sitting between the two. "Professor Dumbledore gave us this portkey, it's set for eight thirty-six. We'll be transported to Headquarters, where Tonks and Professor Lupin are waiting for us. My parents will return home with your luggage and they will meet professor Dumbledore through Floo Powder and they will hand him your luggage."

Harry nodded, taking in the plan, "can muggles go through Floo?"

"Only if it's set up by the ministry…and Mr. Weasley, pulled a few strings, so to speak." It was then that Hermione took the first good look at Harry's face, she gasped, "Harry! What on earth happened to your eye?"

"What?" he touched his left eye, having forgotten all about the bruise, "I just got into a little fight."

"And why didn't you tell me this before?"

He shrugged, "it's not a big deal, Hermione. You and I both know I've been in several fights before."

Mr. Granger turned into an abandoned alley and put the car in park, halting (to Harry's relief) the conversation from going any farther. "Well, it's almost time." He turned to face Harry, "I don't think we've been formally introduced, Harry. I'm Simon Granger, and this is Helen Granger."

Harry shook both of their hands, "it's nice to meet you. Hermione talks about you guys' all the time."

"Likewise, Harry. She's always rambling on about her best friend, Harry Potter." Simon winked at Harry, causing Hermione to once again, blush.

"Look at the time, we've got two minutes, best be saying good-bye."

After the quick (and tearful, for the two Granger girls) good-byes to Hermione's parents, the two each grasped an end of the glasses and held on for dear life. Once eight-thirty six came, Harry felt the familiar pull around his naval and within seconds, he soon found himself in the kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, being toppled down by Hermione.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry!" Hermione pulled herself off of Harry.

"It's ok, I'm not hurt." Harry stood and took a look around the place that once belonged to his godfather, and more than likely, was no his. The last time he had been here, was at Christmas, his last Christmas with Sirius. He snapped out of his thoughts, when he felt her hand softly touch his arm.

"You ok, Harry?" Hermione's eyes were warm and cautious.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The place just brings back memories."

"Good memories, I hope."

Harry nodded somberly, and soon found himself smiling, "yeah, definitely good memories."

"There you two are! I wasn't sure where you guys' would arrive. You'd be surprised at how big this house is." Tonks waltzed into the kitchen, nearly tripping over one of the wooden chairs in the process, "wotcher, Harry."

"Hey, Tonks."

"Professor Dumbledore is waiting in the drawing room, he wishes to speak with the two of you." Harry and Hermione turned, and gave each other the same questionable look, before Tonks practically shoved them out of the kitchen basement. "Go on you two, he doesn't have all day, he's a very busy wizard, you know."

"That's an understatement," muttered Harry to Hermione as they started on the their way up the stairs to meet with Professor Dumbledore.

"What do you think he wants to talk to us about?" Hermione questioned.

"I don't know," he lied. Harry feared it had something to do with the Prophecy that was revealed to him at the end of last term.

The rest of the walk was silent, until the two teens stopped outside the double doors that led into the drawing room. Both seeming to have the same question in mind: do they knock?

But before the thought could be contemplated very long, the doors swung open, revealing Professor Snape. His black eyes bore into Harry, "Potter," he sneered.

"Professor Snape." Harry returned, with just as much hate.

"I suppose you're quite impressed with yourself for finding a way to cheat on your O.W.L.s? You better be ready to show your abilities come September, you certainly won't be able to cheat off Miss. Granger anymore." With one last glare in Harry's direction, Snape stalked off, his black cloak sweeping the floor behind him.

Hermione gasped, "Harry! You're going to have N.E.W.T level potions, you know what this means?"

"Yeah, two more years of Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry. And it means Professor Dumbledore must have our O.W.L.s! And you got an O in Potions, but oh no!"

"What?"

"Harry! I didn't get an O in Potions! I won't be able to take N.E.W.T level potions! I've failed, Harry! My whole future, it's over!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. If I got an 'O', you most definitely did too."

Before anything else could be said between them, Professor Dumbledore spoke, "ah, Miss Granger, Harry, it's good to see you again. I hope you've had a well deserved break?"

"Yes, Pro-Professor." Hermione's voice cracked at the fear of getting anything but an 'O' in potions.

"And you, Harry?"

"Just fine, sir." He refused to look the older man directly in eyes.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled over his half-mooned spectacles, "please come in, come in." Harry and Hermione obliged and followed Professor Dumbledore into the much cleaner (Dark Magic free) drawing room. The two exchanged another questionable look before taking seats next to each other, across from the desk Professor Dumbledore now resided in. "I suppose you're wondering why I asked to speak with the two of you." The two nodded, "well, first I must start off by saying, Miss. Granger, you received an O in potions."

Hermione gasped, "but Professor Snape said--"

"Never doubt your abilities, Hermione."

"You called me, Hermione…you've never done that."

"Would you prefer I associate with you by Miss. Granger?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. Not at all, I'd much rather prefer Hermione."

"Hermione it is, then." Dumbledore turned his attention, partially to Harry, "I suppose you two would like to see the rest of your O.W.L.S?"

Hermione nodded feverishly, but Harry didn't quite reach his friend's enthusiasm. The only one he was really confident in, was Defense of the Dark Arts (no thanks to Umbridge), and even though he seemed to have lucked out in Potions, there was still Divination, History of Magic and Astronomy (to name a few). What if he didn't get O.W.L.s in all the right classes? His dream of becoming an Auror would be ruined.

"Harry?"

Harry had been so absorbed in his own worries, he didn't realize Professor Dumbledore had handed Hermione her letter and was trying to do the same to him. "Oh, sorry, Professor." Slowly, he retrieved his letter. He fingers lingered on the seal, as if trying to delay the inevitable. Pulling out the rather long piece of parchment, Harry eye's wandered to the total box.

"Well, what'd you get, Harry?"

"I got ten!" he couldn't believe it, "Hermione, I got ten O.W.L.s!"

"That's terrific, Harry!" Hermione was genuinely pleased for her friend's achievement, "I knew you could do it."

"How many did you get?"

And that's when Hermione's smile grew, "I got an O.W.L. in every class, twelve."

"That's fantastic, Hermione! Seems Snape got you worked up for no reason."

"Professor Snape, Harry. But yes, I suppose I was indeed, wrong."

"Yes, indeed, I am very proud of the two of you. As you will notice, some of your classes have already been arranged and the others are your choice," spoke Dumbledore. "You will of course need to fill them out and return them by the seventh. And now onto other things in need of discussion. This year their will be several changes and such going on at Hogwarts, I can't go into details, for that you will of course have to pay attention to my speech during the beginning of year feast. But I will say this, Harry and Hermione: In the words of Moody, 'constant vigilance!' but in the words of muggles, 'keep an open head!'"

Hermione stifled a laugh, "sir, I think you mean, 'keep and open mind'?"

"Ah yes, I think you're right, Hermione. Keep an open mind." He turned his attention to Harry, but still speaking to the young witch. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a word with Harry."

Hermione caught Harry's gaze, and gave him a soft, worried, smile. He returned her smile, letting her know he was ok. "Of course not, I'll just be unpacking my belongings."

Professor Dumbledore waited until he was sure Hermione was down at the other end of the long hallway, entering and closing the door she shared with Ginny. "So how have you really been, Harry?"

"I'm sure you know all about my summer." The animosity Harry had felt towards his Professor at the end of last term was once again resurfacing.

"Ah yes, I suppose you found out about my meetings with your Aunt?" Harry nodded, his gaze now fixated on his O.W.L. results the he clutched in his hand. "She said you had started to get along with your cousin, what's his name, Dudley?"

"I told him the prophecy. I told him I had to kill Voldemort. He's been training me in boxing. I know it can't just physically beat Voldemort to death, but he knows absolutely nothing about muggle fighting, I could indeed use it to my advantage."

Dumbledore nodded, a little surprised, but pleased with Harry's words. "You seem to be coming to terms with the prophecy. I'm certainly pleased with you, Harry." Leaning in closer, Dumbledore bored his eyes into Harry's, forcing the boy to return his gaze. "And Sirius?"

Harry shrugged, "he's gone. Nothing I can do about it." after a long silence, Harry spoke once more; his voice was hoarse with emotion. "It still hurts, but I have to be strong, for everyone."

"It's ok to grieve, Harry."

"I have grieved, but I need to think of the future. It's just like what Dudley said, I'm the only wizard he considers a threat. Everybody learns from their mistakes. I made a mistake of letting Voldemort manipulate me, and look how I learned: my godfather was killed. Now it's time for Voldemort to learn from his mistakes."

After his talk with Professor Dumbledore, Harry went straight up to the room he had shared with Ron several times before. He found himself wanting to be alone for a while and was thankful to find Tonks had already placed his trunk and the small duffle bag Dudley had let him use, there.

Going for his trunk, he pulled out his thick stack of chocolate frog cards and the binder he had received from Dudley. Knocking his pillows carelessly onto the floor, he took a seat at the front of his bed and began to sort through the many cards; placing them alphabetically into the card sleeves.

Harry had been at work for only a few short minutes until he heard a soft knock at his door, "Harry?"

Hermione.

She opened the door cautiously, and peeked her head around it, "can I come in?" Harry nodded, returning back to his cards. "Is everything ok?"

"No. But it will be." He sighed and looked up, "I'm really sorry, Hermione. I acted as though I was the only one who lost someone."

"He was your godfather, Harry. You had every right to be upset, angry and bitter. I was afraid for you, though. When you didn't return my letters. I knew the Dursleys' hadn't done anything to you, but that didn't ease my fear. You can do more harm to yourself than anybody else can." Hermione was trying her best to hold back the tears that were on the verge of freeing themselves.

Harry noticed this, and felt even worse, "I'm sorry, Hermione. Please don't cry."

She shook her head, "I'm just so happy that you're talking to me again. Please, please, don't shut me out again, no matter what."

Harry nodded and showed his trademark, crooked smile, "I won't, I promise."

Hermione returned his smile with one of her own, "Good." Her eyes narrowed, and she grew serious, "because if you ever stop talking to me like that again, I'll hex you all the way into next year."

Harry sat up straighter and saluted her, "yes, Ma'am."

"Harry, stop!" a light blush creeped into her cheeks. "Birthday present?" she asked, pointing at the binder halfway full of cards.

"Yeah, Dudley gave me the binder and Ron gave me the two dozen chocolate frogs." Harry shut the binder and scooped up the cards he had yet to add to it, deciding on finishing it later. "Speaking of presents, I believe you owe me one."

"Oh, yes I do! But uh, I can't exactly give it to you yet, Harry."

Harry thought better of himself before asking questions, "oh, Ok. I still have more to open anyway."

"Well what are you waiting for, Harry?"

So for the next thirty minutes, Hermione sat next to Harry on the carpet worn floor as he opened the rest of his gifts. From Hagrid, he received Quidditch gloves made out of dragon hide; they were charmed to fit perfectly and comfortably on the hands of the first person to where them. He had received two very worn, books on defense against the dark arts from Lupin (which Hermione seemed more excited about, than Harry). And last but not least, Professor Dumbledore, it was just a simple letter, and he had told Hermione he would open it later along with the rest of his letters, but Hermione insisted on opening it now.

"It could be important, Harry."

So as always, Harry gave into Hermione's persistence and opened the letter:

Harry,

First off, I must wish you a Happy Birthday!

And second, I must apologize, once again.

I can't go back and change things, but I can try to make them better. What you're about to read is something you should have been reading this time last year.

Harry pulled out the second piece of parchment that was enclosed in the envelope and read it a loud to Hermione.

I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby invite you, Harry James Potter, to make your presence known at the next Order of Phoenix meeting. You are one of several people to be asked to join the Order. Please make your presence known on the night of August 3 at Headquarters of the Order.

Sincerely,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Founder and Secret Keeper of the Order of Phoenix

Hermione gasped once finishing the letter, "Harry! You've been invited to join the Order of Phoenix!"

"Looks like it. Hey, check your stuff, he wrote 'several people', maybe you're one of them!"

"Oh, Harry, I don't think Professor Dumbledore would allow me to join the Order."

"Well we should at least check!" and the next thing Hermione knew, Harry had grasped onto her right hand and pulled her out of his room and down a flight of steps, not slowing down a bit until they were inside Hermione's room. "Where are your O.W.L. results?"

Hermione went to her bed and picked up the opened envelope, "Honestly, Harry, I would have noticed it before…" she stopped mid-sentence, pulling out a small piece of parchment that she hadn't noticed before. Her cinnamon brown eyes seemed to enlarged with each word as she scanned the letter, "Professor Dumbledore wants me to join, too!"

Harry felt a sudden sense of relief wash over him, "that's fantastic! I wonder if Ron got one, too?" At his words, Hermione's smile faltered, "what?"

"Well it's just…well we both know how Mrs. Weasley can be."

"Yeah, you've got a point there." Harry sighed heavily, "Ron's going to be really jealous, again. Maybe I can convince Mrs. Weasley to let him become a member, I mean…it's not like he hasn't faced any danger before."

~

By the time Harry had made it to bed, it was well into the wee hours of the morning, nearly two. After Harry had learned that he and Hermione were both becoming members of the Order, he had bade goodnight to Hermione and left her room, all intentions of going to bed himself.

But those intentions were immediately tossed to the back of his mind as he heard the familiar voice of his best friend. "Harry!"

Ron came bounding up the steps, several at a time. "Ron!" not caring of the fact that they were both sixteen-year-old boys, the two met in a hug. "Ron! I thought you weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow!"

"Excuse me." The two turned to the equally red headed girl standing behind Ron. Her arms were crossed in a reserved manner, and she was scowling pointedly at Harry, "where's my greeting."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Harry embraced Ginny into a welcoming hug. Over the years he had come to think of her as his little sister, "It's good to see you again, Ginny."

"Likewise, Harry." Ginny smirked, eyeing the closed door behind him, "so what was it you were doing in Hermione's room?" Harry's face flourished into the color of Ron's hair, "you guys were alone, am I right?"

"We-well yeah, but we were just talking, nothing was going on."

"Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out. Now if you boys will excuse me, Hermione and I have a lot to catch up on." Ginny disappeared through the door, leaving the two boys alone.

Harry turned back to Ron, who was eyeing him suspiciously, "so, what were you and Hermione doing in there, alone?"

Harry held back the urge to roll his eyes; he expected it from Ginny, but Ron? "We were just talking."

"About what?"

"O.W.Ls." Harry smiled inside, pleased with his answer.

Ron's demeanor faltered, he did not want to talk about O.W.L. results. "Oh."

"So what'd you get?"

"Seven." Mumbled Ron.

Harry nodded sympathetically; Ron could no longer become an auror. "That's not too bad. Look on the bright side, you're finished with Snape."

"Yeah, but mum was hoping I would do better. So what'd you get?"

"Ten."

The boys had found themselves continuing on their conversation, while making their way to their room on the second floor; right below the room shared by the girls. Harry pushed open the door and Ron followed him in.

"You get good presents?" Ron knew Harry received better gifts than his oh-so predictable pack of Chocolate Frogs.

And Harry knew this. "Yeah! I finally got Xavier Quigley's card!"

"Aw, mate! I've been trying to get my hands on that bloody card for ages!"

Harry grabbed his binder full of cards, eager to show Ron. "Did you know they're coming out with five new cards?"

"Yeah. Professor McGonagall is one of them, but as for the other four; no idea."

"Well, I don't care who they are, as long as I'm not one of them."

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

I know the thought of Dudley and Aunt Petunia being nice to Harry is a little out there, but it is all part of a bigger plot. I personally have always thought the way Petunia treated her nephew in the books was for the way she was treated as a child because of her sister being a witch. If she can't get back at Lily, the next best thing would be her only child: Harry. I hope that explains it, a little.