A/N: Sorry about the time this is taking (and to you laughalot, really sorry :D) but I've got other things to do, like upcoming end of semester schoolwork. (As if I really cared) Anyway, I'm on live journal now, though mine is probably not as cool as anyone else, but you can help with that if you like. I'm open to suggestions at http://princesstopaz.livejournal.com/ and also a bit of advice on how to join that Harry/Hermione community, if you know.
About this chapter, well, all I can say is enjoy and next chapter we finally get to Godric's Hollow. Whoopie!
Oh, one more thing, I see that someone figured out one of the clues in the letter. Congrats, you know who you are.
Disclaimer: My profile and livejournal cannot say it clearer, this ain't mine.
*****
Another Farewell
As it turned out, cleaning up after the wedding was much easier than preparing for it had been. As a matter of fact, by the time Harry awoke the next day, a little before noon, the Weasley backyard had returned to its former arrangement, complete with broom shed and disgruntled garden gnomes. It was as if the wedding the day before had not happened at all.
Well, until he realised he was still dressed in his dress robes from the night before and Bill was gone. Immediately a flood of memories came surging back.
The ceremony had actually not taken that long. The bride appeared half an hour after Mrs Weasley came out, but she looked so beautiful, so much more so than Harry had imagined, that it was easy to forgive her for it. She, like her golden bridesmaids before her, glided down the aisle to Bill seemingly unable to stop smiling. Harry took to looking at her to avoid looking at her bridesmaids, but could not before Hermione had whispered, "Don't they look beautiful?"
He had agreed, and so earnestly that Hermione smirked annoyingly. She stopped though, when he continued, "Just because Ginny and I broke up doesn't mean that I can't compliment her."
That was unintentional, and probably not the best of places to finally relay that little piece of information, but he couldn't help himself.
Hermione's reacted accordingly, much to his irritation, "Oh… um… I didn't know, how…?"
The first deafening notes of the bridal march had begun though, and the rest of her sentence was drowned. And since the guests had all started to rise, and were turning to look for the approaching bride, he didn't have the chance to ask her to repeat it, not that he wanted to anyway. By the time Fleur had made it up the aisle he had forgotten it completely, and sat down again with the others to the ceremony.
It was then though, and for the rest of it too, that Harry had his mind repeatedly invaded by horrifying images of a blood-stained backyard, where Death Eaters cackled wickedly above the bodies of the fallen and amidst the screams of those soon to join them. He saw Bill fall trying to protect his bride, and then Fleur after crying over his limp body. He saw Mr and Mrs Weasley die together, and then the rest of their children, including Ginny, and most terribly, Ron. He saw Hermione trying her best to hide beneath a tangle of overturned chairs, before being dragged out by her hair while Voldemort stood over him and declared happily that he would "watch her die like his filthy Mudblood mother"….
At that Harry nearly started from his chair, but was thankfully stopped altogether by Hermione, and she looked none too pleased. He tried his best to look nonchalant, apologising nervously to a guest before him into whose chair he had knocked in his movement, but he could not ignore her when she angrily hissed, "What time did you all get back last night? I know you left, you were just sleeping!"
He did not answer her, he was much too pleased at the moment at learning it was all just a dream.
But now that he was alert, it was only just in time to hear the line "I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your bride!"
Bill happily obliged, and then stopped somewhat unwillingly when his brothers began a chanting that produced stern disapproving looks from Mrs Weasley and Mrs Delacour. As he and Fleur blushed (a strange sight for Bill now that he had the scars), the official announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I now present Mr and Mrs William Weasley!"
At once the couple were up and walking down again past their congratulating guests, family and friends, and Harry rose to greet them too. Fleur actually stopped though, to kiss him firmly on the cheeks, and Bill to shake his hand, and then they were off again.
The ceremony over, it was now time for the reception that led to Harry waking the next morning in his room still dressed as the day before. It had been quite a party in fact, and especially with the Weird Sisters there. He vaguely remembered a time when he had been sitting at all after the late lunch, for he had kept his promise to dance with Gabrielle, and then ended up doing so with quite a few other people, including Luna, Ginny and Hermione. But his dance with Hermione was interrupted shortly after it began when she was taken away by Fred and somehow ended with Ron. Ron though, had quite a number of dances with Luna, much to the others' surprise, and even got one with his new sister-in-law.
And then he sampled the firewhiskey, and that was the last Harry saw of him for the night.
Curiously, Hermione disappeared from the reception before he did, and Ginny as well, but Harry barely noticed. He was trying not to look at Ginny, which had made their only dance rather awkward, and especially when she danced with others including Neville. They were back again when Fleur and Bill left anyway, gone off to a three week-long French honeymoon with the blessings of their parents and Harry's hope that nothing would ruin it. And then after that it was not until the wee hours of the morning that he himself finally went to bed.
Despite their concerns, none of the guests left until late and if they weren't concerned, he saw no reason not to enjoy himself as well.
Now though, now that the couple were married and their guests gone home, now that it was all done and gone, relinquished to memories and photographs, now he found himself thinking of the sunset and Ron's mood before it began.
Ron and Charlie were still, as usual, fast asleep in the room with him, snoring so loudly it was a wonder the walls still stood around them. They were both thankfully oblivious to his musings of course, but he was sure that when they were awake it would be on their minds too.
Well, the party at least, why did he have to be the one with whom these kinds of thoughts stuck?
He sat up and slipped off the bed, and his stomach noisily alerted him that it was time for breakfast. He opted to have a shower and change first instead; it would not do to have Mrs Weasley come down to find him dressed as he was.
Down in the kitchen though, he was to be greeted by a surprise. Molly Weasley hadn't come down to prepare breakfast, and as matter of fact, it seemed very much as if every one else was still asleep. If he wanted to eat, and he surely did, he would have to do it on his own.
No problem there, there was still quite a lot of now charm-less food and he had his pick… not that he was becoming Ron or anything. He was just hungry, a growing boy and all that.
Apparently though, going about it quietly was not.
First, when he drew off the cloth covering he dropped the cover of a dish. Then, when he went to pick that up he collided with the counter and a spoon fell to the floor. The noise startled Crookshanks from his hiding place in a cupboard and went he bent over to retrieve the spoon his wand fell out with a clatter. As he turned instead to retrieve this, a whisper came from the doorway, "Accio wand!" and it rolled over and slipped from his grasp and up into the Hermione's outstretched hand.
"Are you trying to wake up the house?" she asked, with that annoying smirk again. "Or are you always this clumsy?"
"Do you always have to be so nosey?" he shot back.
She said nothing, walked into the kitchen to the table, sat down and without returning his wand, asked, "What's for breakfast?"
"Can I have that back please?" he asked, ignoring her question.
"It's not like it's any use to you here-ooh, turkey sandwich-hey, what's that by your foot?" she continued, ignoring him until her eyes fell to his feet.
"I'll have my wand back now," he repeated, walking over to her and deciding that he was not going to play this game.
"No seriously, what's that… wait, that isn't Dumbledore's letter is it?" she asked.
At that Harry finally allowed her to distract him and looked down at the floor behind him. Sure enough the letter Lupin had handed him in this very kitchen in what seemed a lifetime ago lay on the floor near the still fallen spoon. He snatched it up, "Give me the wand and I'll let you read it."
She dropped the wand at once and snatched it from his grasp. Harry found himself slightly hurt that she seemed more interested in Dumbledore's words than concern for his things and protested childishly, "What if you broke it?"
"Broke what?" asked someone from the stairs, and they both turned to find Ron standing there eyeing them curiously.
Hermione spoke before Harry could, but not to Ron, "You had this in your pocket all this time, what if you lost it?"
Harry had to ignore Ron too, to reply, "I wouldn't have… I just, well, I just wanted us to focus on enjoying our time here that's all."
"But this is important-oh my goodness, he's giving you Gryffindor's sword!" she gasped.
She had been reading and scolding at the same time, a talent she had perfected after years of practice. Apparently though, she had also added analysing riddles to the act, for Harry was sure he hadn't seen that there, just something about "Gryffindor's gift to a deserving-"… oh…. Heh-heh.
"What?" Ron asked, hurrying over to look and taking a seat beside her.
Harry sat too, breakfast abandoned, and listened while she began to explain, "Oh Harry, you should have told us earlier. He's left you a few things, and knowing Professor Dumbledore they're important, enjoying ourselves is nothing compared to this."
He wasn't sure he agreed here, but he allowed her to continue, "For the first of these you must ask permission, though I doubt Minerva would not give it to you. Gryffindor's gift to a deserving student, use it well-though I doubt gifts given should ever be useless. It may not look like it now but it should not be underestimated, remember what happened the last time it was. This has to be the sword, 'the last time it was underestimated', don't you remember what you told us, Voldemort certainly did that in the chamber and you killed the basilisk."
"Oh, right…" Harry replied, stupidly. He had long forgotten that little incident, though there were some points of it he remembered on occasion.
"I was in the chamber too…" Ron pointed out feebly, but Hermione was speaking again and apparently didn't hear him.
"The second and third of these are mine to give and freely so, they should be with the first and more than one eye wouldn't hurt. Well, this is just a rough guess, but I would estimate that they're memories. If they are then they certainly were his to give."
"How do you figure that?" asked Ron, drawing the letter over to him for a look.
She snatched it back, "See this part here, about 'more than one eye wouldn't hurt'? That could mean that you might have to use his Pensieve, Harry, just like you went with him… oh goodness, to go with you!"
Harry couldn't help the smile that formed at the sight of her-eyes wide in excitement, face flushed brilliantly and radiant smile-as she hit on the implication. The sunlight now pouring gently into the kitchen seemed to pool in the corners of her eyes.
Ron was still puzzling over how she had figured that one out, and interrupted then, to ask, "Okay then, so what's this last part? 'You will find a fifth item in the keep of the bartender of the Hog's Head Inn. I should not expect its retrieval to be difficult, and you may find that it will be most useful in the days ahead.' What does that mean?"
Hermione took the letter back and read it over, but after a moment shrugged, "I have no idea, but I'm almost convinced of what the other things are. (She lowered her voice here.) The sword and the memories are certainly very useful enough as they are; I can barely imagine anything else that we might want."
"Voldemort dropping dead?" asked Harry.
"Well, yes, but then we might want the others to do that too," she replied, casually. "So now comes the hard part, we have to get these things, and before that we have to leave here undetected. We still have no idea who RAB is, or what he may have done to the real… Horcrux… and where the others are."
"Which is why we're going to Godric's Hollow," said Harry, "and I have a feeling I know just who to ask about that."
Hermione and Ron were both about to ask "Who?" but they were interrupted by the arrival of a small girl yawning loudly while scratching her long tousled hair and bidding "Good morning" in rather sleepy French. It was Gabrielle, and the moment she had finally managed to pry open an eye, it was to rush forward and trap Harry in a tight embrace before hurrying back up the stairs again.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione for explanation, and they both promptly laughed.
Gabrielle and her mother would leave early the next day, immediately taking with them not only a number of items of luggage brought over for the wedding, but the last remnants of an invisible but very present buffer between Harry, the Weasleys and the Order. With the wedding between them, they had an excuse to avoid and ignore the war and the world around them. By the last week before it in fact, newspapers had virtually vanished from the house altogether. But now that that was done, as Ron had recognised and Harry had discovered the day after, there was nothing now.
The Daily Prophet reintroduced them to Voldemort's latest atrocity in large bold: "Four Muggle Law Enforcement Officers Feared Taken by Death Eaters!"
They had only just settled to breakfast, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Mrs Weasley, when the delivery owl arrived with the paper. At first it had been a welcome distraction, the house was quiet and felt rather empty now that it was just them once more, and the fluttering at the window interrupted Mrs Weasley as she began with an encouraging smile, "So… how are things with you two?
Ginny went to retrieve it, and hurriedly so that Harry irritably felt that she didn't have to be so relieved. Then again, considering that apart from her, only Hermione knew that they had broken up, (he was still a bit concerned about Ron's reaction) maybe it was best she not answer that.
When she returned, Ron asked mindlessly, "Who died?"
Mrs Weasley shot him a sharp look while Ginny read the headline, which made her turn to her instead and take it away. It took her a moment to quietly read it over herself before she suddenly began anxiously, "You know what; after all you've done you four should go outside for a little bit… I don't think it would be too bad if you had some sun, it's so bright out there now." And before they could alert her to the fact that they had just sat down in the first place, she was up and ushering them out of the house to the backyard with Crookshanks at their heels.
The door shut solidly behind them too, but not before Harry noticed two things: One, the special Weasley clock still had all hands pointing to "Mortal Peril" but now had two more, one for Fleur, and another for himself; and two, as Mrs Weasley rushed them out he managed to glance at the paper, the front page having blown over as Ron opened the door, and read, "Attack in London Claims One, Family Searching for Krishna Patil!"
He could only hope that he wasn't who he thought he was.
But back to the matter at hand with them out of the house, and Ron looked about them for a moment, as if carefully surveying their surroundings for the first hints of trouble, and declared, "Quidditch it is then."
"Can we do nothing else?" asked Hermione, though with noticeably feigned exasperation. Harry had to admit that she had improved somewhat in her game, by no means was she up to Ginny's level, but she certainly had improved.
"You want to de-gnome the garden?" asked Ron, as he headed over to the shed to gather some brooms.
She did not reply, and Harry was suddenly struck by something, and then at the same time had to wonder how he had not thought of it before. With the wedding past them, sooner or later they would have to announce to the family that they were going to have to leave. Somehow, with him not yet old enough to do magic without a Ministry hearing and Hermione still not the owner of a broom. But the solution to one of those problems had been standing in front of him all along; Hermione could borrow a broom from the Weasleys.
It was the perfect solution really. Hermione never owned a broom before and to go looking for one now with all the suspicious eyes and high prices would probably be a bad idea. But if she borrowed one from the Weasleys, no one would be the wiser. Who would know one was missing, or for that matter, who would care to look?
Two down, he thought, as he looked at her mounting one of the brooms and taking to the air to start the game.
Mrs Weasley firmly kept them out of the house until lunch and they were well and properly starved when she finally opened the backdoor and brought out their food.
Or was that just Ron? He barely waited until she had set down the first plate to start removing their covers, and Harry was sure he caught a hint of drool as the first whiff of the baked chicken filled the air around them. He couldn't help himself, he had to say, "Easy there, easy boy, give her a minute to get it all out…."
Behind Mrs Weasley's back Ron shot him a rude hand gesture.
But this time when they sat down, there was nothing to distract the silence that fell.
For the next two days though, silence was the last thing that filled their mealtimes. Though Mrs Weasley routinely kept them out of the house, or somewhere within washing up or merely playing a game or two of chess or Exploding Snap, she could not stop them discussing some of the reports they received from Mr Weasley, or Charlie or the twins: There was another Snape sighting, the body of one of the missing Aurors had finally been retrieved and there was still no sign of Draco Malfoy whom rumours swirled might be dead.
Harry doubted that last one, Professor Dumbledore was dead just like Voldemort wanted caused by Draco.
Then again, he probably would have been killed just because he hadn't actually done it, like Voldemort wanted.
Fred and George sent word that they "wouldn't mind" Harry paying them a visit, which garnered Hermione's interest more than his for the possibility of some "research". When she made the mistake of blurting this at dinner one evening, she quickly covered with the excuse of "NEWTS," to divert Mrs Weasley attention. Harry was sure that she may not have been believed and Mrs Weasley point blank refused to let them go anyway, her excuse simply, "It's too dangerous now to go out for no reason, we'll see them when we go shopping for your school things."
That was weeks away, and that simply would not do.
Once again that weekend, they were visited by members of the Order. Lupin and Tonks were back, but this time, and surprisingly, Mad Eye Moody had come as well, taking up a post near the door with a clear view at all windows. This was what Harry had been waiting for, and then still, more than he had expected or could have possibly asked. It by no means made what he planned to do easier, but it certainly helped.
The day before, he had announced to Ron and Hermione that it was time for them to leave. He had meant it as a last chance for them to back out, but as before their response was firm, they were coming with him as soon as he was ready. In fact, they were going to stand with him tonight as he spoke to Lupin and the others. Their reinforcement would certainly strengthen his resolve, but he couldn't help hoping that it would also show the others that they were serious and had thought this through.
He hoped.
They walked into the kitchen in the midst of a discussion, that, as usual, came to an abrupt halt as they did though Lupin completed his sentence: "… we know he's going to use the Malfoy boy openly now, but at this point the best we can hope for is that he'll just be Snape's apprentice."
"Some kind of hope," said Harry.
He looked up at them, finally noticing their arrival and the others abrupt silence, and replied, "If what you told us is accurate, then he is much safer out of Voldemort's sight. It would be much worse if he sent him out on one of these raids I'm sure you've read about."
Moody came away from the window adding, "His father was no fool, but I can't say the same for the son. You should be more vigilant, even if he's with Snape he'll be a problem, he knows you and your friends, and he hates you. There's no telling how much the both of them could have told their little master already."
Hermione paled slightly, but stood her ground as Harry said, "Well, actually we've come to talk to you about that, I-"
Lupin cut him off before he began, "You want to go out there, on your own."
Harry refused to register surprise, but corrected him, "No, I have to go out there. I'm supposed to be the key to Voldemort's downfall and I can't do it if I'm here… or at Hogwarts."
"Absolutely not!" declared Mrs Weasley, cutting in. "You're safe at the school, out of his way while we try to find a way to stop him! You'll stay here, and go to school as usual at the end of the summer, you have your NEWTS!"
"Professor Dumbledore may have already given me a way-" Harry began to protest.
"Your secret excursions… do you honestly expect us to let you go about it on your own?" asked Lupin, and in his eyes Harry could read his concern.
"No, I don't," he replied honestly. "But you can't expect me to tell you what I'm doing, or let you know what it is either. It's not that I don't trust you, but it's safer the less you actually know."
"And you two are going with him?" asked Mrs Weasley, turning her attention now to Ron and Hermione standing behind him, her voice going shrill.
They didn't have to speak.
Ron's resolve showed in that he didn't once break eye contact with his mother, while Hermione just nodded firmly. Mrs Weasley kept staring at them though, as if trying to find the slightest trace of weakness before turning to her husband and commanding, "They're going out there to be killed, say something!"
He looked at her, and then at the three, then over to Lupin and Moody, and then back again before replying, "They seemed to have already made up their minds."
It was not the answer she was looking for.
"You can't do this, it's not safe out of the school…" she insisted.
"It's not safe in there either, Voldemort got to Dumbledore didn't he, who knows who's next. I have to stop him if I can, and since I currently have a way to do that I'm going to take it," Harry insisted in turn.
"Harry, you really cannot expect us to just let you go out there-" Lupin began, again.
"He doesn't," said Hermione, taking over. "And you're right that we shouldn't, but you could help us still. We can't let anyone know that we're not going to be here, or at school, it's important that they don't suspect a thing, and especially the Ministry."
"You want a cover?" asked Moody, almost cutting in before she finished having already picked up on the plan.
She nodded, "It has to look as if we've never left and you can do that, we can't on our own when there are other things to do…."
Mrs Weasley cut in again, determined to be heard, "You're not old enough to use magic yet, nor do you have your Apparation licence, you can't just go out there. You worry about the Ministry but if you leave they'll find you."
"My birthday's next week, after that I'm gone," Harry told her, calmly. "I'm sorry Mrs Weasley, I am grateful for everything you've done for me, you all were the first real family I've ever had that I can remember, but I can't stay here anymore. It's dangerous for us to be out there, I know, but it's far too dangerous for me to remain here too."
"Nothing has happened so far. Do you even know where you're going to stay, if it's not here? Do you have a plan for what you're doing? Even if you're old enough you can't just expect to walk out of this house with nothing-" she continued, refusing to hear him.
He cut her off, but as gently and as respectfully as he could, "I do have a plan, but like I said I can't tell you what it is. I don't like that it came to this either, but it has…. So please, don't fight us, help us."
"At least tell us something then," said Lupin, "we can't prevent your birthday or you getting your licence, you're James' son, you won't be stopped… so we won't fight you. But help us help you, we can arrange the cover but we at least deserve some idea of where you're going."
"To Godric's Hollow," Harry replied, simply.
"There is nothing there to find," said Moody, "nothing but trouble."
"I think there is," insisted Harry. "We just need to know where it is, and after that we'll try our best to keep you updated."
"You will keep us updated," corrected Mrs Weasley, firmly.
"We will," repeated Harry, and turned to Lupin.
Lupin though, had gone slightly pale, and his eyes showed distance. He was physically there but Harry knew that his mind was elsewhere, gone back to the night where it had all begun…. It was clearly something painful, but it had to be done and Harry stifled another bout of rising guilt as he waited.
Finally, Lupin replied, "I was not James and Lily's Secret Keeper, as you know they did not trust me at the time… and unfortunately they could not trust their eventual choice either…. But after the house was destroyed, everyone knew… the Muggles around came flocking to the scene of destruction: a young couple, their child…. There is no number marking the house, not anymore… it is on the outskirts of the village near a thicket… Pettigrew must have escaped through it then… Stagge Lane, James' idea of a joke. The house no longer stands, of course, but strangely the ruin is there, the lower floor left by the Muggles to vine. Anyone there will tell you where they are buried, but that may not be safe… you will find their graves at the local cemetery simply marked in the earth nearest the road, I advise caution and I expect you will remember it."
Harry nodded immediately, earnestly, while Mrs Weasley suddenly burst into tears. But before he completely fell into his shame, he heard a rumble of footsteps on the stairs and then a door slam above them.
Ginny had heard too.
He had to be grateful then that no one said a thing.
*****
When finally it arrived, Harry's seventeenth birthday turned out to be not much of the big deal everyone around him had made it out to be. As a matter of fact, he spent much of it trapped at the Ministry of Magic with Mrs Weasley trying to get his Apparation licence. Even so, as he sat in the Weasley kitchen at the end of it, savouring a slice of treacle fudge cake, he could not deny that it was much better than it could have been.
The rest of the night after his announcement to the Order and the Weasleys had been uncomfortably quiet. Mrs Weasley would not stop crying, and though she did manage to silence open sobbing, she could apparently do nothing for the tears that constantly ran down her cheeks. When he could take it no more he went up to bed and tried to will the night to pass.
It did not help that he had to pass Ginny's room on the way there and overhear Hermione trying to appease her either. The words of their conversation echoing into his dreams:
"He doesn't expect you to just sit around and do nothing, waiting for him, none of us can-"
"Oh what do you know of it? You're going with him; you're going to help-"
"Ron too, the three of us, if anyone else comes along, there's too many people-"
"You think I'll let someone know your little secret?"
"What? No, but…."
"Oh just let it go Hermione…."
The next morning though, was considerably, as he had hoped, better. Mrs Weasley was still somewhat upset at breakfast, but she betrayed no other emotion or voiced any more concerns as she set breakfast before them and spoke with Mr Weasley about a third and somewhat surprising reported sighting of Snape. He tried not to grit his teeth at the sound of the name; there would be plenty of time for that later.
Ginny was better too, actually smiling as she came down for breakfast and animatedly chatted with Hermione as if the night before had never happened. Unfortunately this must have reminded Ron of something for when he caught a hint of Harry's faintly relieved expression after she sat down, he narrowed his brow as if in deep thought. He said nothing as he did this, but Harry knew better than to hope he would let it go entirely.
They should have told the others a long time ago, and forgetting was no excuse. Before it got anymore awkward they would have to.
At the end of breakfast though, still no one had said a thing, and once more as in the week before, Harry and the others were left to their own devices.
Quidditch, as it had the year before, once again became the mainstay entertainment choice of the rest of their days. But the atmosphere had definitely changed around the Burrow. Harry continued to refuse to tell anyone where he and the others were to go or even what they were up to beyond the little he had revealed that night. Mrs Weasley sank into a silence that was only broken when necessary and if asked declared sternly, "Nothing's wrong, I'm fine, you all are grown now, I knew this day would come sooner or later."
Of course, this was the answer no matter the question.
The twins, as per usual, took the news rather lightly, but again hinted that Harry visit them as soon as he got the chance. Bill, Fleur and Charlie took it more seriously, but gave words of encouragement in their letters and offers of assistance whenever he needed it. The members of the Order they chose to inform gave mixed reviews on the idea, and Harry was grateful that he didn't have to be there to hear the protests. It was probably difficult enough for those who knew him to understand that a mere sixteen year old boy was their only hope.
In the news though, and away from the Burrow and the safety and secrecy, Voldemort's war covered almost every page of the Daily and Evening Prophets and The Quibbler. It was clear now that Voldemort seemed to be systematically attacking the Muggle police force, and more so with the intention to create trouble. Harry allowed a small passing thought for the Dursleys in Little Whinging where there had been three break-ins in the past few days, and then turned the page to read the latest nonsense the Ministry had to spew.
Late in the week though, they had a jovial distraction: they finally received the wedding pictures, professionally sorted into a fancy white album.
Of course, jovial for whom soon became Harry's question after they got to the pictures of the reception. That strange, out-of-place, curious little twinge of… something… was back again. More than that, whenever they came across one of Ron and Hermione dancing, ice blue and dark gold robes fluttering, fairy lights encircling their heads… and would not go away if he looked away. Looking away actually led to photographs of Ginny and Neville dancing, and they seemed far happier than he and Ginny had in the single one they had thankfully captured of them.
Mrs Weasley and the others though, seemingly noticed nothing amiss as they pored over the photographs and Harry let it go. He was just being silly really. Seeing them happy without him was just not something he wanted to accept yet, that was all.
His birthday at last began early in the morning of the day. He had gone to bed just some three hours prior, determined to be at the Ministry and back again before too much of the day was gone. Promptly at midnight though, he was roused by a loud, and somewhat frightening "crack" that nearly sent him off unto the floor only to hear someone declare loudly, unnecessarily cheerily, "Happy Birthday Harry!"
Blinking open sleepy eyes and muttering curses under his breath, Harry tried to peer into the darkness at his unwelcome rousers. They seemed oblivious to his displeasure though, and a member of the chorus began again, "This is no time to be sleeping, you're wasting perfectly good hours!"
"I'm tired…" he tried to protest, but again was to be ignored.
"Unless you haven't noticed, we're trying to help you. You almost missed the chance to use your magic without the Ministry on your back for the first time. You should be thanking us," continued another.
"I'm really grateful, really… but there's always tomorrow," said Harry as he tried to get back unto the bed again while absently searching about for his glasses.
"Too long," said the first, he now promptly recognised as Fred.
"Too late," continued his brother, George.
They both suddenly descended on him by the arms and hoisted him upright between them.
"Forget the glasses-" said Fred.
"Yeah, all you need is your wand," finished George, and then it was hurriedly thrust into his hands while the rest of him was enveloped in the awful, squeezing sensation of Apparation.
With three sharp "pops" it was over though, and Harry, still unable to see but quite capable of feeling, shivered slightly at the realisation that they were now in the Weasley backyard. He was quickly warmed though, by the sound of a sharp, disapproving hiss, "Did you wake him? We told you don't bother if he was sleeping… and where are his glasses, he can't see without them! Oh for goodness sake, at least you could have brought him with a blanket-"
"Oh hush, Hermione, you worry too much," snapped Ginny.
"Yeah, loosen up, live a little," conceded Ron, and then turning to Harry, "Hey mate, Happy Birthday… you know you almost slept through the big event."
"I don't remember you being rudely awakened or being wide awake for yours," said Harry, distinctly unhappy and feeling rather self-conscious of the fact that he was without his glasses. For some reason it made him rather naked, vulnerable, and knowing that otherwise he had to depend on twins made him feel worse.
And then he remembered the incident of Ron's birthday and stuttered, "Sorry… Ron… that was… sorry…."
Ron shrugged off his embarrassment, "Don't worry about it, I should probably be thanking you really…."
Suddenly, and thankfully, warm, soothing hands gently took possession of his own from the twins and Hermione said, "You can summon them in a minute, (she lowered her voice to a whisper) are you okay?"
He nodded, and then not sure that she had seen it, said, "Yeah, sure, just… you all do know that I have
someplace to be tomorrow right, the Ministry of Magic?"
"You've got some hours… hey, look at the time, thirty-no-twenty-nine-no-okay, twenty-five seconds to midnight,
here it comes…" began Fred again.
Almost unconsciously, Hermione's hands slipped into his and she led him over to the others asking, "Is the window open, Harry can't see and I don't think we want any accidents…."
"I can hear perfectly!" he snapped. "But… um… could someone please get me my glasses, I… can't see…."
"Fifteen… fourteen…" continued Fred, and no one else answered him.
Hermione suddenly released his hand as if burned and he had a moment of confusion before guessing that she must have had something else to do than being his guide. As if to confirm this, a moment later someone else turned him round, presumably to face the house, and another said, "Hey, that's the first thing you should do, get your glasses."
"It would be much easier if one of you just went back and got them you know…" Harry protested.
"Ten… nine… eight…" counted George, taking over from his twin.
"Can you find nothing better to do at this hour of the night? Would someone please just get my glasses, I can't see!" he tried again, daring to raise his voice and not caring if Mrs Weasley heard.
"Five… oh bloody hell, fine!" said a rather exasperated Fred, breaking the count and then grabbing Harry's hand, thrust it to the air and said, "Get your glasses, you big baby!"
"Hey, who're you calling a baby? I can't see!" declared Harry, becoming even more irritated.
"Hush! You're going to wake Mum!" hissed Ron.
"Uh Harry…?" began Ginny, quietly.
"I don't care, I was sleeping pretty fine until you all got this brilliant idea!" he snapped at him, ignoring Ginny.
"Harry…" said Hermione, just as quietly as Ginny but tugging on his arm.
He rounded on her and nearly shouted, "What?"
"Um… it's your birthday now… you can… um… get them yourself…" she replied, meekly.
He paused with his mouth open and then lamely raised his wand arm and muttered, "Accio glasses."
But nothing happened, and one of the twins started, "Louder, I don't think they heard you."
"Fred," warned Hermione, though Harry could hear the smile in her voice.
He said it again, louder this time, but still not daring to raise his voice to the level it had been in the argument, "Accio glasses!"
"What's wrong? Harry, are you okay?" asked Ginny, her voice filling with alarm.
"Nothing's wrong, maybe his wand is just broken or something, you know, from lack of use," said Fred, and Harry could hear him smirk.
"You do want them right?" asked George, stepping closer and lifting his arm a bit higher.
"Of course he does!" snapped Hermione, unnecessarily. "Come on, Harry, get your glasses."
He shook off George, raised his arm in the approximate direction of the house and said as clearly, as boldly as he could, "Accio glasses!"
With a sharp zipping sound he heard them swooping down from the open bedroom window and swiftly rose his other hand to catch them in one deft movement. As he secured them on his face his vision cleared to reveal Hermione standing directly before him with a smile on her face. She whispered then, "Happy Birthday."
Some two hours later he was back in his room and drifting off to a sleep that was to be interrupted in what felt like ten minutes by a very sleepy Ron who grumbled, "Get up, Mum's been calling you for half an hour now, we have to get to the Ministry…."
Groaning as well, he sat up quickly and asked, "Mr Weasley gone already?"
Ron opened his eyes to look at him then, "Are you serious? No, but you're making him late."
As if to support this, Mrs Weasley suddenly called from below, "Ron! Wake up Harry; you're all going to be late!"
"I'm up!" Harry called down, shoving off the bed sheets and standing up.
"Your eyes are still closed. Open them up and get dressed, you don't want to be there all day!" snapped Hermione from the doorway, before turning and heading down to breakfast.
Harry nearly fell over again as he realised she had been standing there the whole time, but he did as he was told. He took the time though, to call after her first, "I hope you weren't planning to watch us change!"
He turned around, and something soft collided with the back of his head but with such force that it nearly knocked him out. She had knocked him with his own pillow, and clearly was abusing her ability to use magic.
A long while later, he and Ron went down to breakfast together and rather childishly too, poking each other in the side as they did so. When one of them stumbled and both nearly fell, the others finally looked up but only to look away again shortly after, deciding to ignore them. They then continued to the table without further incident, and once seated, Mr Weasley began, "I don't expect us to be at the Ministry long, the Minister's in Wales this morning, and there are only eleven others taking their tests including Ron here."
Harry sharply looked up at that. Didn't Ron supposedly Apparate to the Dursleys to get him without his licence already?
As if expecting his question, he whispered in reply, "I got Dad to give me permission, practice you know?"
Harry nodded; he had had practice too….
Ron broke through his thoughts when he asked his father, "The Ministry's sent a car?"
"It'll be around by the time you're dressed, and it will take us directly to the Ministry and back… unless you two will be travelling alone?" he asked, smiling unabashedly.
They both smiled back.
Breakfast was toast, orange juice and jam with a croissant as remnant of Fleur's presence. His shower was warm and his clothes neatly pressed and spread out on the bed by Mrs Weasley. As they stepped out of the house, the air was cool, but the day bright under the golden glare of the mid-morning sun and the cloudless cerulean sky.
As Mr Weasley had said the Ministry car was awaiting them in the driveway, but the driver was not alone. So concerned were they about his safety that someone had sent an Auror, and it wasn't even a member of the Order. They didn't know what he was up to, but they were rather suspicious.
The ride to the Ministry in London was brief and mostly uninterrupted. Through unspoken agreement they had all decided against speaking on the way, and Harry was amused to find that this strangely seemed to unsettle their Auror guard. He shifted constantly, or fidgeted with the car's radio, or stole glances at them in the back while they stared absently out the window, and on one occasion held a gaze until Harry stared right back. It very much appeared as if he were there solely to spy on them, and by all rights he probably was… for all the good it did him.
Today was Harry's birthday, if he didn't know, and nothing he could do was going to change that.
The Apparation Test Centre was on Level Six of the Ministry of Magic, two floors up (or five down depending on how you looked at it) and past the repaired golden fountain of magical creatures that made Harry's stomach lurch uncomfortably. Strolling past it had summoned the memory of two men, the one he had gone bursting in here to save, and the other who used it to save him. Of course, he wasn't the only one who hadn't forgotten. The Ministry security official who had met them at the phone box entrance at the back alley that led to this building had joked as he saw them, "Not planning on destroying anything in here while you're at it, are you?"
Harry refrained from reply or smile, but Mr Weasley said stiffly, "Just getting these boys their licences, Ulric, nothing else."
The man seemed incapable of stopping himself though, as they entered the old box and declared their destinations, ("Level Six, Apparation Test Centre, Arthur Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and Ulric Stovepipe,") saying, "Had to ask, we need the building in one piece this year."
Harry was never happier to be setting off on a floor of the Ministry, and seriously doubted he would be again. And one look around the floor confirmed that too.
The entire floor of Level Six was one long corridor with two doors on the far end, separated into sections like a travel office with each booth representing a particular destination. All along the walls above them were lined hundreds of brilliant moving posters and photographs of various destinations, some exotic, some tranquil, where witch and wizard tourists waved to the viewer or feigned ignorance as they took in the sights. He had to wonder how those seated in the booths beneath them could work undisturbed. There was a Bulgarian one that particularly caught his eye, and especially since the witch seated in the desk beneath it was reading a copy of Witch Weekly with the bold headline: "Viktor Krum Headed To England: Reports of Seeker in Talks with Team Officials!"
Worthless rag really, but he took care to keep it out of Ron's line of sight. They were heading past this though, to the doors on the end: One that was poster-free and official looking, the administrative section no doubt, and the other, with a line of people going in for their Apparation licences.
With the office as easy to find as it was a wonder their licences were so difficult after.
It actually took the twelve gathered students, one of who was Neville Longbottom, smiling brightly and eagerly waving them over as soon as they entered, no more than half an hour to complete their tests each, and the wait between them was murder. Going in alphabetical order the applicants were required to Apparate and Disapparate three times to three separate locations. The first time was across the room, the second just outside, and the third a clear distance away into Diagon Alley, where the officials were waiting.
Everyone did it reasonably well, though Neville failed his last two attempts and was sternly advised to "try again later". Harry cleared his rather admirably, he felt, but unlike those who before him, who had passed, he was not immediately told if he had. And as a matter of fact, the last student to receive his licence would leave before they came back and informed him that there was a problem.
At once Mr Weasley took over, "What kind of problem?"
The wizard who brought the news, apparently the same Mr Stovepipe, began gravely, "Well, though Mr Potter clearly achieved his last Apparation, there was an overshot, of about… say fifty centimetres, a serious error you understand."
Harry felt his heart sink, he couldn't believe it. Fifty centimetres? He knew they were serious but this was ridiculous.
Apparently, Mr Weasley agreed with him, "Fifty centimetres? You don't want to give him his licence for fifty centimetres? How are you so sure he didn't step off as he landed? First time off everyone stumbles, and especially under stress."
"Well, yes of course Arthur, but this is an important matter, we do not wish Mr Potter to accidentally end up in the English Channel-" Ulric continued, as if trying to reason.
"Nonsense! This is absolute nonsense and you know it! I demand that he have a review, fifty centimetres?" declared Mr Weasley and with anger that Harry had never known he possessed. Even Ron looked scared.
Ulric though, didn't look that perturbed, and after studying Mr Weasley's furious countenance for a moment more, said, "Give me a moment," and went away.
Harry turned to Mr Weasley as soon as he was out of earshot, "You didn't have to do that, sir."
He meant it too; if he got this licence he was free to leave with their son to their possible deaths after all.
Mr Weasley shook his head curtly, still furious, but said kindly, "They're playing games, you know it. This is all just a silly game…."
It would take three hours more for them to finally return with their result ("Mr Potter has passed, congratulations,") and at that Mr Weasley hurriedly ushered Ron and Harry away, without waiting for further comment. It had taken them the entire day in fact, and as he sent them to the elevators he said with a conspiratorial wink, "I have some more work to do, but feel free to give the girls the good news before I get there."
They took his advice, and soon as they were up (again, or down) and out of the building they Apparated into the backyard of the Burrow where Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Hermione were just beginning to set up for a feast. And for some reason they had decided to have blue and white balloons, including one marked, "It's a BOY!" and hats, paper plates, cups and forks and all the trappings of some Muggle child's, a very young Muggle child's. Fred and George would pay as soon as he found them, there was no other explanation.
The moment they were seen though, the preparations were abandoned for the clearly delighted squeal from Mrs Weasley as she rushed to hug them both. An overreaction by far, but Harry couldn't complain, they had taken forever to get back.
And as a matter of fact, after a moment's thought while the others came over to inspect the licences and laugh at the photographs (Harry banished his with a flick of his wand before Hermione could reach him), he decided he wouldn't. She deserved to have this day as much as he did.
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