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Chapter title credited to John Glenn: "There is no cure for the common birthday." Sorry if the title made you think that I gave one of the characters Cancer or something.
Chapter 3: A Disease With No Cure
"Open this one next Harry!" Harry smiled wanly as a large, heavy, clumsily wrapped package was thrust into his hands. It was his birthday, which he had forgotten completely until nearly strangling Hermione when she woke him up at the crack of dawn. His nightmares had returned with increased vigour, especially now that they were fuelled by an incredibly ancient man with a long white beard being flung from the top of a tower, so his reactions when woken were always unpredictable and dangerous more often than not. He was still nursing the bump from when he had accidentally head-butted Tonks on his first morning, the cord of his neck where she had hit him reflexively, and the last vestiges of the stomach ache induced by the enormous meal she had cooked by way of apology.
The typical exasperated snort and breathed reprimand of "Honestly Ronald" from the bushy-haired girl to his right jerked him back to the Grimmauld Place sitting room where his impromptu, and unexpected, party was being held. He was sitting on a sofa between his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, the former glaring at the latter who had 'presented' Harry with the aforementioned package. Ginny was lying on her stomach on the floor at his feet, looking for all the world like a ginger sheepdog. Mr and Mrs Weasley were curled up on a nearby loveseat. The twins were on another sofa across the room from their parents, whose casual public displays of affection they were doing their utmost to ignore, while Bill and Charlie stood guard behind them, the latter sporting several new burns and sutured scratches on his face. Tonks stood by the door, periodically looking out for some sign of her husband who had vanished a few minutes prior.
Harry gingerly felt the package in his hands before starting to open it. He soon discovered that it was a rather weighty tome. "What's this? A book from Ron Weasley? What is the world coming too?" He asked in an obviously falsely cheerful voice, earning few chuckles around the room but a short outburst of roaring laughter from Ginny.
Ron's face turned an impressive shade of red, most likely from a combination of his friend's half-hearted teasing and his sister's totally inappropriate outburst. "Yeah, well take a look at it before you make fun of me." He requested indignantly. Never one to deny a friend, even in the nearly perpetually depressed mood he had recently found himself in, Harry obliged.
"1001 Curses, Hexes, Jinxes, Rituals and Enchantments You'll Wish You'd Never Have Asked About? Thanks Ron, this should really come in handy." He, Ron, and Hermione shared a knowing look, oblivious to the confused stares directed their way from every occupant of the room. Naturally Hermione was first to become aware of the situation. Nonchalant as ever, she cleared her throat and handed Harry a similar-looking package to Ron's, albeit considerably more neatly wrapped.
It may have been his imagination, but it seemed that Hermione's finger lingered a moment longer than necessary as it brushed against his. As though he had entered one of those moments between moments, where time slows to an unrecognizable crawl, their eyes met and Harry saw a profound sadness buried in their usually mild depths. As soon as it had come, the deep brown pools returned to their normal glimmer, and the moment that Harry had almost allowed passed them by. In his haste to return to a normal reaction and divert attention from the fraction of time, however, he missed the scathing look Ginny directed at Hermione as he turned his interest to the object in his hands.
Unsurprisingly it was another book, though a slightly more dangerous one, and one that attracted more than a few stares. A Dark & Despicable Guide to the Darkest of Arts was its title. He turned to his friend to thank her, but couldn't find the words. None were necessary. After so many years they had become so attuned to one another that expressing such things took place on an almost purely instinctual level. All the same he added some, strictly for appearances. "Thank you Hermione." She smiled softly at him. One might have mistaken the expression as one that was happy and carefree, which was indeed how it was intended, but at close range there was sadness behind it; the sadness they all felt. Ginny was obviously not close enough to notice this, and apparently interpreted it as a smile of wistful longing. In the mind of Ginny Weasley, anyone else smiling in such a way at Harry was unacceptable.
"Open mine next Harry." She requested in a breathy voice, pushing a small box towards him. Inside was a boutonniere of lilies and a note reading 'for the wedding.' Harry was grateful that the symbolism afforded him some time to think things over without arousing suspicion. He had once thought he loved Ginny, though he couldn't for the life of him remember why. All the same, a part of him admired her tenacity. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love her. If she truly loved him. One look into her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He could forget what happened between him and Hermione, pretend to love Ginny, and one day marry her, but he would be not be making himself happy; he would be fulfilling a young girl's childhood fantasy of marrying Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He could not, and would not love someone who only loved the idea of him. He thanked Ginny quietly, averting his gaze from the hurt, confusion, and anger he saw in her eyes.
"Heads up Potter." His head snapped up the moment Bill called, after he tossed over a ring box. It was wide to the outside, but not even near outside the reach of the greatest seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. Opening it revealed a thin, carved ring made of white gold and encrusted with a single diamond.
"What's this Bill? I thought you were already getting married." One of the twins joked, to sparse laughter.
"Shut up you, it's not an engagement ring. It's a curse detection ring. The diamond turns red when there's dark magic nearby." Bill explained.
Harry put it on his right middle finger and examined it. It was very good quality. "Thanks a lot Bill, this should be useful for fighting Voldemort." He ignored the shudder that passed through the room, as he was now so used to doing.
Tonks walked over from her position at the door, and handed him what looked like a wand box. "Looks like this is the last one, until Remus shows up." She told him, a little sad that her lover wasn't there yet.
Harry opened Tonks' gift and was faced with the most useful gift he had received yet, or so at least Mad-Eye would think. It was a wand holster, designed to be strapped to the forearm. "Thanks Tonks!" He thanked enthusiastically; this was actually something he was excited about. His other gifts had also been practical, but this one would give him a distinct edge in combat.
Tonks smiled. "No problem Harry; one of these days I'll teach you how to work it." Harry looked at her with puzzlement. How would he need to work it? He was to put it on his left forearm, and draw his wand with his right hand. He was about to ask Tonks what she meant, but the sudden appearance of Remus put an end to that train of thought.
The werewolf struggled through the narrow door, clutching a giant gift-wrapped box. He set it down at Harry's feet and collapsed in an armchair. "Happy birthday Harry." He panted, gesturing for him to open it. Harry removed the paper with trepidation, especially when his hand closed on something cold and wet. When he had finally removed all the paper, he was looking at a large box with holes in it. A hairy nose was poking through one of the holes.
Harry looked at Remus. "A dog?" He asked incredulously. Remus only smiled his thin smile.
"Not just any dog Harry, let him out. He's very playful." Eyebrows raised, Harry reached over to the top of the box and opened the flaps. A very familiar shaggy black dog bounded out and shook himself. He looked around the room, sniffing, and found his way to Harry. Tail wagging, he ran over and started licking Harry's hand.
Harry grasped the dog gently by the snout, and manoeuvred the head so he was looking into the dog's eyes. "Sirius?" He asked, shocked. The dog shook his muzzle free, barked happily, and transformed into the crouching form of Harry's godfather.
Sirius stood up and stretched his back. "Honestly Moony, couldn't you have found a more comfortable box?" He complained in the direction of his old friend. He turned to the four children, all of who were staring at him in slack-jawed amazement. "What? Did he turn my robes invisible again?" He asked, checking that he was in fact fully clothed (which, fortunately for all concerned, he was).
Ginny's jaw opened and closed repeatedly with no sound coming out, and Ron kept stammering "Wha…but…" over and over. Meanwhile Harry had found himself incapable of any sound at all, so only Hermione was in any position to point out the glaringly obvious point that was slapping everyone in the face.
"Uh, Sirius? You're kind of dead." She pointed out. Sirius looked at her like she had dropped in from Mars, and poked himself firmly in the stomach.
"I seem pretty alive to me." He noted jovially.
By this time Harry had regained full use of his vocal cords, so he was able to ask the question that had been running through his mind since he first saw the dog. "How did you come back? You fell through the veil and you were gone." A small frown creased Sirius' face as he thought about it.
"I don't really know. Last thing I remember I was fighting my dear cousin Bella," He stressed the 'dear' sarcastically, "She shoots a stunner at me, and next thing I know I'm being prodded and poked by Unspeakables. Managed to escape about a week ago, and got here only the day before you did."
Harry turned to Remus angrily. "He was here this whole week and you didn't tell me?"
Remus shrugged. "I thought it would be a good birthday present for you. Plus I couldn't wait to see the look on your face when Sirius leapt out of the box." He chuckled. Harry looked as though he would protest the matter further, but Sirius cut him off.
"Hey, there's more stuff in here!" He called out, drawing the room's collective attention back to him and his box, and tossed Harry a silver pocket watch. "From James. Since he can't give it to you in person, I get the job." Harry turned the watch over. On the front was an engraved coat of arms. The shield was quartered with a stag's head, dog, werewolf, and rat (counter clockwise from top left). At the centre, between all four animals, was the intricate letter 'M' superimposed over a blossomed flower. "The Marauder's crest." Sirius explained. "Lily designed it shortly after we graduated. It's symbolic of Prongs, me, Moony, and Wormtail." He pointed at each animal, "And Lily." He pointed to the flower. Harry opened the case. On the inside cover, opposite the watch face, was a small photograph on a younger Remus, Sirius, James and Lily with Hogwarts in the background. They looked so happy. "Last time I saw this Wormtail was in it. He must have walked out after selling out his friends." Sirius noted bitterly. Harry closed the watch and looked up at his godfather.
"Thank you Sirius." Harry said simply, emotion overflowing in his voice. Beside him, he felt Hermione put her hand on his shoulder in a comforting way. It was the happiest he had been in two months. Deep within his body, he felt a glimmer of his old self.
Sirius held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Don't get all weepy eyed on me yet kiddo, I have one more for you." He handed Harry a small rectangular package wrapped in simple brown paper. Harry looked at him, a question written in his eyes. Sirius nodded, and Harry tore open the package. "Tonks found the remains in your room a few days ago, so I fixed it up." He told his godson, who was admiring the two-way mirror. "Just remember to use it this time before you go running off to fight Death Eaters, okay?" he joked.
Harry looked up at him. "That's not funny. Try and be serious about at least this, I thought you'd died."
"Serious?" Sirius asked, sounding affronted. "Of course I'll be serious. Serious is my middle name. Well, technically it's my first name." He trailed off as a collective groan passed around the room.
"Padfoot." Remus called out from his chair.
"Yes Moony old buddy, old pal?"
"Remember that time in third year when Prongs, Wormtail and I threatened to prank you into the next decade unless you stopped those stupid Sirius/serious jokes?" the werewolf asked tiredly.
Sirius looked confused. "Yeah? So?"
"So, the offer still stands. And I'll be doing the work of three." Remus reminded his oldest friend.
Sirius paled. "Right, I'll remember that." He turned to his godson. "Sorry Harry, I'd love to chat but I'd better hide before Remus changes his mind." With that he changed into a dog and bounded out of the room.
From the loveseat Molly cleared her throat. "Well I'd best get dinner started. Ginny, come and help me." She ordered. Ginny turned to her from where she had been glaring at Hermione and, more specifically, Hermione's hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Fine Mum." She sighed, and followed her mother into the kitchen.
Hermione slid her hand down Harry's arm, apparently unaware of the unwanted tingling feelings she was leaving behind, and grasped his hand. "Come on Harry, we need to talk." She informed him, dragging the young man to his feet. As he was being pulled out of the room he turned to look at Ron. His best friend was glowering at him from his place on the sofa surrounded by Harry's gifts; a box of candy from Mrs Weasley, an enchanted wallet from Hagrid, a Dragonhide combat suit from Charlie, and the keys to Sirius' old motorcycle from Mr Weasley. Harry shrugged helplessly, and shook his head indicating it wasn't what Ron thought. This, however, did nothing to improve Ron's mood.
***
"Alright Harry, what the hell's gotten into you this time?" Hermione had finally pulled him into the room she and Ginny had shared two years previously. Harry had advised her against discussing anything in his room, reasoning that Phineas Nigellus could be listening. Harry gave her a confused look, and she rolled her eyes angrily.
"I...I don't know what you're talking about Hermione." He informed her jerkily. She did not look impressed.
"Yes Harry, you know exactly what I'm talking about." She let out a heavy breath when he just shook his head vigorously. "I'm talking about how you've been moping around for two weeks, barely eating, barely talking to anyone, and not sending a single letter to me, Ron, or anyone else. And before you try to deny it," She interrupted him at the very moment he was about to do just that, "I've been owling Tonks daily; she told me everything."
Harry sighed. He had been afraid of this. How to begin explaining it? He knew better than to lie, of course; nobody in the world could see through him better than Hermione, including Professor Dumbledore. How could he possibly explain to anyone, even her, how he felt? How to impress upon her that there were hundreds of Death Eaters at large, every one of them baying for his blood and the blood of anyone associated with him? That he could feel down to his very bones that the final confrontation with Voldemort would be soon, and his fears that he would be destroyed and the Wizarding world would fall? His fear that more people he cared about would die, and that it was a miracle that even one other had returned? That his own best hopes for ultimate victory had fallen hundreds of metres from the highest balcony of the Astronomy tower, and now lay in a marble tomb?
And yet, somehow, he had managed to communicate all of these things without conscious knowledge of it. By the time he had collected his thoughts again, Hermione's eyes glistened with rare tears. She grasped him around the middle and, burying her face into his shirt, wept openly for the first time in living memory. She wept for Harry, for herself, for her friends and family, for what had passed and what was still to come. And as she wept, Harry could have sworn he heard her murmur that she would stay with him, no matter what, until the end.
After what could have been as long as an eternity, or as short as ten minutes, Hermione pulled back from him. Her eyes and face were red, but a quick wave of her wand restored her flawless complexion and composure, and simultaneously dried the wet spot on his shirt. She muttered her thanks, and he told her not to mention it. "Don't tell Ron." She pleaded.
He understood her feelings entirely, and informed her that he wouldn't dream of it.
She smiled thinly at him, and then started on another tangent. "I also wanted to talk about what happened two weeks ago." Harry personally didn't think there was anything to discuss, and his face must have betrayed that feeling. "Harry, I know you. I know you very well. You have an almost paranoid fear of intimacy, so you've got another thing coming if you expect me to believe that you kissed me for no reason." She had adopted her typical stance for telling him off, hands on hips and glaring. It was actually kind of cute.
Nevertheless, Harry sighed. Once more he didn't even consider lying, so he just came out and said it. "Hermione, I'm a seventeen year old male, and I had a very attractive female right in front of me; I acted totally on instinct."
Hermione coloured slightly, and he couldn't figure why until he realized what he had just said. "You…you think I'm attractive?" She asked, almost shyly.
He looked her up and down purposefully. Her hair was as untamed as ever, although it had mellowed out in the last few years. Her arms were thin and lithe, with slightly defined muscle, but Harry knew that she was stronger than she appeared. Her chest was nice; neither gargantuan nor invisible, but noticeable. Her stomach was a little bit rounder than she herself liked, but it wasn't much and he didn't mind it; it was a part of who she was. "Yes, Hermione. I do. I always have." He answered, finally, and totally honestly.
Her flush darkened, and she looked down at her shoes. "Is that all you like about me? My body?"
Harry instantly, without hesitation, responded in the negative. There were countless things he liked about her, and he listed many off the top of his head; her level-headed grace, her quiet dignity, her intelligence, her ability to reason, her subtle humour, her single-minded determination, and more. By the time he was finished, her face had gone from a light scarlet to a deep tomato red. "You're the most incredible person I've ever met." He told her frankly.
She continued looking down for a long while, before finally taking a deep, steeling breath and looked up at him again. "Harry, do you trust me?" He nodded. He trusted her more than anyone else in the world. She took another deep breath, got up on her toes so they were at about eye level, and kissed him.
This kiss felt, if possible, even more amazing than the last one. He could feel it tingling throughout his entire body, as though someone had hooked him up to a car battery. Lord Voldemort himself could have apparated into the room in tights and start performing ballet, and Harry wouldn't have spared a single glance. They finally pulled apart, and Hermione had a triumphant look on her face; he knew that she had just proven something to herself. "Harry, I want you to be my boyfriend." She told him matter-of-factly.
He grinned at her. "That's very fortunate, because I want you to be my girlfriend."
They shared a smile. "I guess that's decided then." Hermione moved to kiss him again, and he would have been more than happy to oblige her, except that Mrs. Weasley chose that very moment to announce to the entire house that someone wanted to see Harry and Hermione in the sitting room. The new couple reluctantly pulled apart and, after affirming that neither of them wanted to leave but both knew it was necessary, departed the bedroom together.
***
The two teenagers entered the sitting room, perhaps unconsciously standing closer to each other than they would have ten minutes ago, to be greeted by Mad-Eye leaning back in an armchair with his feet perched on the coffee table across from Professor McGonagall. Harry cocked an eyebrow and spoke to McGonagall with a sigh. "Professor, I have a good idea why you're here. I'm sorry to say that Hermione, Ron, and I won't be coming back to Hogwarts this year. Professor Dumbledore left us a job to do, and we need to see it through." Of course he knew that Hogwarts was re-opening. It had been front-page news in The Daily Prophet, which Remus still received due to his infallible optimism that they would eventually develop some semblance of a clue. McGonagall raised an eyebrow in Mad-Eye's direction.
"Aye Potter, we know. You were quite insistent with Scrimgeour on that front." Even Moody's gruff demeanour couldn't keep amusement from rising to his voice. His disgust for the new Minister of Magic wasn't concealed in the slightest. "We also know all about the horcruxes."
For a long moment, Harry was gobsmacked. Mad-Eye Moody, the unstable ex-Auror, had casually spouted a secret that had been imparted (to the best of his knowledge) to Harry alone. As usual, Hermione buried her confusion and made the level-headed inquiries. "I certainly hope you silenced this room before you said that." She chastised the old Auror.
McGonagall betrayed no emotion in her voice, but the corners of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "I would have hoped you would have more faith in us than that Ms Granger. Alastor may be many things, but he is not a fool." Hermione coloured slightly with the reprimand, and McGonagall continued. "And neither was Albus. He was quite aware that his time was coming to a close, and informed us of your mission shortly before leaving for the locket with Mr Potter."
"He also told us that you three would probably want to leave Hogwarts to pursue the remaining Horcruxes." Moody supplied.
"We believe, and Albus agreed, that it would actually serve your purposes better to conduct your search from Hogwarts." McGonagall finally concluded the two-pronged proposition.
Harry, aware that he had said rather little in this conversation, took the lead. "Why? What makes you think that you can help us more than we can help ourselves?" He challenged, more for the sake of argument than for any other reason.
Mad-Eye swung his legs off the table and fixed both eyes on him, the scar tissue pulling his face into what looked like a glare. He slammed one thick finger down on the table. "One: I have been personally overseeing the defences of the castle." He slammed a second finger. A long scar twisted up its length and disappeared under his cuff. "Two: there are a dozen highly trained witches and wizards on staff, as well as a half-giant and a centaur, all of whom are in the castle all day, every day." A third finger hit the table, missing the entire top section from the second joint up. "Three: 24/7 Order guard on the perimeter, and at the entrances and exits to the grounds." A fourth and final finger joined the others, this one sporting an angry burn scar. "And four: we have the largest magical library in the world, with the exception of the ICW Archives." Moody raised an eyebrow, challenging the duo to argue him.
"And I have taken enough liberties with staff appointments this year to ensure that there are two professors with very specialized skills who would be more than willing to train you in the more obscure magical arts." McGonagall finished. Moody regarded her curiously, and she nodded at him. He slumped back in his chair. Something about that news caused him a great amount of contemplation.
Similarly, Harry gave Hermione a questioning glance. He knew she had always been set against leaving Hogwarts, so he wasn't anticipating much difficulty. As expected, he could see the wheels turning, and sensed the answer long before it would have been voiced. He turned back to his professors. "Alright, we accept. I doubt Ron will be pleased though." He added as an afterthought to Hermione, who simply smiled.
Mad-Eye stirred to life. "Well Weasley's just going to have to get over himself, isn't he?" He asked rhetorically, rising from his seat. "Potter, Granger." He nodded at them both before stomping off in some random direction.
McGonagall reached for a portkey in her robes, but hesitated. Finally she withdrew an envelope from her cloak and presented it to the two of them. "Until September. Happy birthday Mr Potter." She bid her farewells, and vanished.
Harry looked suspiciously at the envelope. Not that he expected Professor McGonagall, but one could never be too careful when one was the prime target of a psychotic megalomaniac. Cautiously he opened it, releasing a folded piece of parchment and two silvery metal discs. Leaving Hermione with the discs, and ignoring her gasp of surprise, he read the letter.
Dear Mr Potter & Ms Granger;
I would like to formally congratulate the both of you on your appointment as Head Boy and Girl for the 1997-1998 Hogwarts school year. I also wish to assure you that you had been selected for this position some time ago, and it is not merely an incentive for you to return to school.
Your duties are as follows: You are to organize patrols for the prefects of the various years and houses. A complete list has been enclosed. You are both also normally required to take a shift at some point; however Professor McGonagall informs me that you are to be waived of this duty. In addition, you are expected to treat students of all houses fairly, regardless of their own house and any prejudices you may have. Beyond that, be good role models. You represent the cream of the crop of Hogwarts students, and your behaviour should reflect that. First years will be encouraged to seek you out if they have any minor concerns, and you are of course expected to aid them and all other students to the best of your ability.
Now, on to the good stuff. As Head Boy and Girl, you both have the ability to administer detentions like any prefect, and you are able to add or remove house points from any student. I trust you will not abuse this power. Finally, since your position absolves you of any house ties, you are given your own tower, complete with common room, separate dormitories, and separate bathrooms. I need hardly stress the importance of your dormitories being separate. The entrance is on the seventh floor, being behind the wooden door with no handle. The password is unus pro totus. You may, of course, change the entrance to whatever you wish upon your arrival.
Congratulations again
Transfiguration Professor, Hogwarts School Counsellor, Head of Administration
Curiously, the note was not signed. However the envelope was sealed with the Hogwarts crest, so Harry wasn't unduly concerned. He regarded the list of prefects with little interest, and swapped Hermione the letter for his new badge. It was very similar to his Quidditch Captain's badge, but instead of the Gryffindor crest it was engraved with the Hogwarts crest, and the letters 'HB' were inscribed on its surface. The idea of sharing a private tower with Hermione was very exciting, especially given their new relationship status, but he was mostly concerned with how Ron would react. For all his good qualities, their ginger friend could be very impulsive.
The two friends heard someone approaching, and they quickly hid the letter and their badges. Neither of them wanted to face Ron's accusations at the moment, though both knew they would eventually have to. It turned out to only be Mr Weasley. "Well Harry, What do you say we get you and Ron to take your apparition tests today? You are of age after all, and it's a useful skill to have." He asked, as jovial as he could manage.
Harry shared a glance with Hermione. Although he had missed spending time with his best friend, and would have been happy to spend even more time with her given recent events, he and she both knew that it was very important for him to learn how to move quickly over large distances. "Alright Mr Weasley, just let me put some stuff away first."
The balding man grinned at him, though it didn't quite make it all the way to his eyes. "Excellent. Alastor said he'd wait for us to stand guard." He rolled his eyes. "I don't think it's necessary, but you know what he's like." Mr Weasley grumbled slightly on his way out of the kitchen. Harry took a deep breath. He did indeed know what Mad-Eye was like.
Yes, I'm in denial. Sirius will always live, as far as I'm concerned. Just so you know, Padfoot is the only character I'm bringing back from the dead. As for saving others from JKR's killing sprees, we'll see.
Also some definative HHr for all my fellow shippers. As Hermsy already stated, I know it's a bit of a cliché. Hey, you can't avoid all of them.
Obviously the phantom Transfiguration teacher will come into play soon enough. He's my favourite OC ever, and will have a substantial part to play. As well the password for the Head's tower, totus pro unus, is latin for 'All for one.' I apologize if my Latin isn't very good, I just got it from an online translator.