The walls of Number 12 Grimauld Place-dark and dreary reflected how Harry felt on the inside. Being in Grimauld Place did not feel right. Not when his godfather couldn't be here. Every corner he took every room he entered a part of him thought that Sirius would be there. But he never was, and it broke Harry's heart every time. Sirius's presence hung in the air turning it stale. Everybody treated him differently, and he hated it. They treated him like he was delicate and that at any moment he would break. The worst though were the smiles. Everybody smiled at him assuring him everything would be alright, except in their eyes. The eyes always shed pity and pain. He knew they were only trying to help his grieving process but he didn't want to be treated differently. He just wanted to be…normal. He hated that house because Sirius used to hate this house.
Harry Potter sat alone on his bed engulfed by darkness of his bedroom. It was the eve if his sixteenth birthday. There was a party in the kitchen for him but he didn't feel much like going. Turning sixteen meant he was one year nearer to having to fight Voldemort, one year closer to fulfilling the destiny the prophecy chosen for him.
He groaned at the thought of the prophecy. He didn't want to think about, he had been thinking about it all summer. He had a headache now because of it.
He heard a heavy familiar creak from the hallway. It was Ron coming up the stairs.
Ron pushed open the bedroom door allowing a steam of light to surge in, illuminating the features on Harry's face.
"Are you coming down stairs, mate?" Ron moved into the room a little more. "Everybody is wondering where you are."
"Tell them I'm sick."
"Are you?"
"No…Yes," Harry muttered. "…I don't know."
Another creak echoed in from the hallway, and Hermione appeared at Ron's shoulder.
She pushed past him abrasively and flicked on the light. "Harry, what are you doing?" she asked hotly. "Everybody's wondering where you are."
"Nothing," he answered, shielding his eyes from the light.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "…Oh honestly… there is a party down stairs for you, you know."
"I don't feel like going."
"What?"
"I don't feel like going," he repeated louder.
Hermione took three brisk strides before plopping down on his bed to next him and looking into his eyes. "Harry, I know you're hurting. You're my best friend, and I would do anything for you, you know that!" She shifted slightly her voice turning hoarse. "But I refuse to let you sit here and dwell on all the negativity in your life. So you're going to that party!"
"Hermione, I don't want to go."
"C'mon mate, there's butterbeer and cake down there," Ron added.
She bolted up and glared at him. "Harry get up! You are going to this party whether you like it or not. I am forcing you to go!" she began tugging at his arm. "A lot of people took time out of their busy schedules, and took time off of work to be here for you! HARRY POTTER YOU ARE GOING!"
Harry exhaled deeply, slightly annoyed knowing Hermione was right. He hated when she was right. Harry used all his weight to make himself heavy in spite of Hermione always being right. He was amused by the look of determination to make him attend this party gleaming in her eyes.
"Ron help me!" she grunted.
Ron rolled his eyes, and made an attempt move from his spot by the door, but stopped when Harry bolted up out of his bed.
"Alright!" Harry cried, feeling slightly annoyed. "I'll go!"
A small smile materialized on Hermione's face. "Good. I'll see you in the kitchen."
Hermione exited the room with a flick of her hair, catching Harry's eye.
"Bloody mental she is!" Ron muttered a few moments later trotting down the old creaky stairs with Harry at his side. "Mum made the best cake…got Fire Whiskey in it! Mum reckons we're old enough for it. She made Fred and George wait `til they were seventeen but they're idiots though. Ginny's mad, mum says she can't try it `til next year."
"Oh," Harry mumbled, not really listening to his best friend.
They reached the kitchen door and Harry pushed it open. He was greeted by shrieks and yells of excitement from the Weasley twins followed by a loud CLANG!
"FRED! GEORGE!"
Harry's eyes fell onto the middle of the floor where he a broken bowl and Bertie Botts Flavored Beans scattered about. He looked over to Fred and George who were standing in the opposite corner looking at there mother with guiltless expressions.
"What do you two think you we're doing?" snapped Mrs. Weasley, standing over the broken bowl.
"We were trying to bewitch the green ones to taste like Dragon Dung!" Fred replied.
Mrs. Weasley groaned and began muttering under her breath. With a swish of her wand, the bowl was fixed and the Bertie Botts Bean had disappeared. She looked up and saw Harry watching her. "Hello Harry dear!"
"Hi." he replied.
"Harry's here," Mrs. Weasley announced to the room.
"Hello Harry!" Mr. Lupin said. "Happy Birthday."
"Er - thanks."
"Happy Birthday eve, Harry" Tonks and Ginny giggled in unison.
"Harry, come blow out your candles," Hermione insisted, placing the cake on the table.
Harry made his way through the crowd of people who came for his birthday. Among them were the Weasley family, and many of the members from the Order. Some of them wishing Harry a Happy Birthday as he passed. Harry made is way over to the spot where Hermione stood.
"Make a wish," Hermione grinned
Harry thought for a moment. What was it that he wanted wished for? He wished he didn't have to be at this party - but that wasn't it. He wished the Dursley's would be transformed into some grotesque species of insect and leave him alone. He had to admit to himself that one was good but he didn't want to waste a birthday wish on it. He knew what he wanted to wish for. He wished that Voldemort didn't exist. He wished the prophecy had never been made. He wished his mum and dad were still alive. He wished he could for once in his life he could be…normal. That was it, he wanted to be normal. He leaned forward and blew out the candles. Cheers and applause from everybody filled the room. Harry looked up and met Dumbledore's eyes. He bowed and winked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles with a mystical smile.
Several hours and several pieces of Mrs. Weasley Double Chocolate Fire Whisky cake later Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed for the stairs feeling a little tipsy. Harry was glad the party was over. He had spent the evening receiving the standard `pity and pain' look from members of the Order. The party got better near the end when Fred and George started talking about the up coming Quidditch World Cup.
This year it was Russia against America. Harry would have loved to see an American team play Quidditch. Mr. Weasley had broke the bad news to him early on in summer when he informed Harry that he sadly couldn't get them tickets this year. This was the worst summer of Harry's life.
"Harry?"
The tipsy trio was already half way up the first flight of stairs when they turned to see Professor Dumbledore smiling up at them.
"Yes?"
"Treasure the memories," Dumbledore said softly. "Happy Birthday."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at each wearing the same puzzled expression. With a loud pop they looked down the stairs to see Professor Dumbledore had apparated away.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked, waiting for Hermione to answer.
"I have no idea!" Hermione answered, still wearing her puzzled face.
"I really think he lost it this time, Harry," Ron said, still watching where Dumbledore stood moments ago. "He's definitely a nutter!"
"…Yeah," Harry replied.
"There's too much Fire Whiskey in my system at the moment to think, and I am tired. See you in the morning," Hermione announced, bouncing up the stairs towards her bedroom.
Harry liked Hermione's thinking. He was also very tired. Too tired to try to figure out what Dumbledore said, but he couldn't help it. Why would Dumbledore unexpectedly say something like that for no reason? Maybe Ron was right, maybe Dumbledore had really lost it.
Harry dragged his feet up the stairs and into his bedroom he shared with Ron and collapsed on his bed, and within minutes heard Ron's forceful snoring. Soon Harry was drifting away from reality. Seconds before he spun away into a peaceful slumber, a small whisper crept into his head.
"Treasure the memories."
***
Harry felt a rush, as if he was being pulled at high-speed through a tunnel. His eyes surged open, and bright sun light filtered the room. He did not see the dark dreary walls of Number Twelve Grimauld Place, instead he saw a bright taupe colored room, with blue trim. The room was cheerful compared to Grimauld Place.
Startled, Harry sat up instantaneously. He looked around the room; he didn't know where he was. Where was he? How did he get here? Was he dreaming?
"Harry?"
Harry twisted in the bed, and saw Ron sitting up on a cot behind him. A small amount of relief came over him; at least he had a friend there with him.
"Ron!" Harry said. "Where are we?"
"I dunno," Ron answered, in a fearful tone. "I was gunna ask you the same thing!"
Harry's thoughts shifted to Hermione. Was she somewhere here too? Was she alone and scared? "Would Hermione be here?"
The two boys eyed each other, knowing what each other was thinking. Harry whipped the covers off his legs, and shoved his hand in his pocket in search for his wand to find it missing. "My wand?"
"It's on the table…I think," Ron said, spotting Harry's wand plunging his hand into his own pocket to find his wand right where it was supposed to be.
Harry spun around and found his wand sitting on what appeared to be some kind of wand holder. He reached forward to pick up his wand and found something odd scribed on the wooden wand holder.
`Harry's Wand'.
"This is weird…this is REALLY weird!" exclaimed Harry.
"Very!" Ron agreed.
Harry took a moment to take everything in, the room seemed very well decorated. Quidditch posters plastered the walls which seekers zoomed in and out of. A large collection of Gryffindor memorabilia littered the room. Clothes were thrown about the floor.
He shook his head and turned to Ron. "Come on, we have to see if Hermione is here somewhere!" he said urgently.
Harry kicked a few articles of clothing out of his path as he reached for the doorknob. They came face to face with an empty hallway with pearly white walls and royal blue carpeting. Several white closed doors with silver knobs lined the walls. Everything still appeared to be still and cheerful.
Not knowing what to do Ron whispered, `Hermione?"
Harry turned and whacked Ron with his wand. "Shhh! You don't know where we are. This could be a trap, don't do that."
"Sorry," Ron replied. "But have any other ideas?"
Harry didn't answer but continued to slowly pace around. He was looking for something to let him know what was going on or what to do next.
A door at the end of the hallway opened and closed again with a firm clap. Footsteps rushed down the hall and before Harry knew it a pair arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a few steps before realizing it was Hermione.
He exhaled with relief, and hugged her back. "Hermione!"
"Oh, god, I have been scared out of my wits. I have been awake for an hour not knowing where I am. Thank god you're here. I heard you two murmuring." Hermione gasped, as she turned to throw her arms around Ron. "Where are we? What's going on?"
"I don't know," Harry answered.
"This couldn't be a trap from Voldemort could it?" Hermione whispered, her mind in deep thought.
"Oh don't say th-"
Ron was interrupted when a soft voice traveled in from the other end of the hall. All three of them glared at each other nervously, unsure of what to do next. They heard the soft voice again, and the three of began to creep towards a white banister. Together they crouched down peered down into a kitchen through the banister posts and saw the source of the soft voice. A woman with flaming red hair was sorting through a bowl of chocolate chips humming the tune to `Happy Birthday'.
Together the trio watched more closely and intently. The woman flicked her wand and a stack of pancakes floated across the room and landed beside her. She picked up the bowl of chocolate chips and began sprinkling them on the pancakes…she was spelling something. Within moments, she moved the stack of pancakes aside and the message written upon them was clearly visible from where the trio was placed.
`HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY'
Harry gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Harry turned to Hermione, and she turned to him. She saw perplexity, and alarm written on his face. She could feel it for him.
"W-what?" he struggled with a dry throat.
Hermione looked from the woman back to Harry. She licked her lips and gripped the posts. She felt very apprehensive; it was clearly inscribed on her face. "Harry, I don't know what's going here…" She glanced back down at the fiery haired woman and back up at Harry. "But, I think that's your mother down there!"
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