Chapter 3 - Coming of Age
Thursday 31st July 1997
Harry awoke the next morning and promptly decided that it was a bad idea. He was lying face down in the bed and slowly became aware that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He made to move but was immediately struck by a pain in his head that felt like someone was trying to squeeze his eyeballs out of their sockets. He tried to focus on what had wakened him but his brain didn't seem to be working properly. It was as if it was lagging about twenty seconds behind the rest of his body.
Someone had come into the room, he realised. He had heard a knock at the door before the sound of it opening and someone entering the room had penetrated his sleep. He concentrated and summoned the energy to turn round and investigate. When he finally focussed on his surroundings however, he found the room to be empty; the only sound being the chainsaw that was Ron Weasley at that moment. I had forgotten how badly he snores, Harry thought to himself.
Deciding his imagination was playing tricks on him; he decided to turn over and tried to get back to sleep.
Five minutes later, he was wakened again by a much louder knock on the door. This time Ron was also roused from his stupor.
'Wotsgoinon? Wotthehellwozat?' he muttered, followed by a short pause before, 'Sweet Merlin! What's wrong with me? Why is everything so sore?'
'Everything is so sore because you two obviously had far too much to drink last night. What on earth were you both thinking? Stupid question really. You weren't thinking; either of you.'
It was a voice that was much too bright and happy for this time in the morning, thought Harry. Whatever time in the morning it was. No one should feel so full of the joys of the day when he was feeling like this.
'Hermione?' Ron tentatively asked. He winced, as if even the effort of uttering that solitary word had proven too much for his fragile condition.
'Yes, and I don't know why I even bother. I came up here five minutes ago expecting you to be awake, but the two of you were dead to the world. I hope you are both feeling thoroughly miserable,' she added.
'We are, believe me, we are,' replied Harry. He tentatively reached across to the bedside table and groped around for his glasses. Putting them on, he turned to face Hermione, but the sudden movement made his head swim, and he took a moment before speaking. 'What's that you've got?' he asked, noticing that she carried two goblets that were emitting a rather ominous green smoke.
'Something you don't deserve,' was the brusque reply. She seemed to relent though. 'When I came in earlier the room smelled like a distillery. It still does actually. It didn't take a genius to work out what you two have been up to. It also wasn't hard to work out that you both would be feeling lousy this morning and as it is Harry's birthday - happy birthday by the way - I took pity on you and managed to get a hold of some of Mr Weasley's hangover potion. He said you were welcome to it, but that if Molly finds out there will be hell to pay. He also says you owe him two bottles of Firewhisky.'
'Two!' exclaimed Ron, before immediately regretting his outburst. 'We only took one,' he added in a quieter tone.
'I know, but he said to tell you that two bottles will make sure Molly doesn't find out.'
'That's blackmail, that is,' said Ron.
'Who cares?' interjected Harry. 'Do you want your mum to find out? Oh and, Hermione? Thanks. You are a bloody life saver. We owe you for this. Big time.'
She smiled. 'No problem, Harry. Here, drink up,' she added, offering a cup to each of her friends.
Harry took the proffered goblet and examined it dubiously. Glancing across at Ron, he saw that his friend didn't waste any time and was already necking it down. He grimaced, but then a more relaxed expression could be seen on his face.
'That was absolutely disgusting,' he said. 'It worked though. I'm feeling better already. Thanks, Hermione. Really.'
'You're welcome, Ronald.'
Harry glanced down again at the goblet in his hand. Ah well, in for a penny…
He had to resist the sudden urge to retch as the potion slid down his throat. Merlin! This stuff was awful. It was like a cross between some Polyjuice potion and some raw egg. But it worked. Almost immediately the pressure in his skull was relieved and it no longer felt as if someone had scoured his mouth with sandpaper.
He sat back in bed. 'Thanks, Hermione, that's much better. What would we do without you?'
'Probably get into more trouble than you already do,' she replied waspishly, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone, and the glint in her eye let him know that she wasn't mad at them. She turned to face Ron.
'Ron, your mum says you have to get downstairs right now. Breakfast is ready and she says you have a lot of work to get through today to help set up for the wedding.' Turning to Harry, she added, 'she says you don't have to bother, Harry, as it's your birthday.'
'It's OK, I don't mind. I'll be glad to help. If you two are going to be doing chores all day then I should assist. It would be boring sitting around all day with no one to talk to.'
'Boring, but more relaxing,' said Ron. 'Well, I'd better get up then,' he added, before climbing out of bed, putting on his dressing gown and shuffling off downstairs.
Hermione watched him go with an affectionate smile before turning round to face Harry.
'Have you got a minute, Harry? I wanted a quick word with you. Alone. It may not be the best time, but I don't know if we will get another chance today.'
'No problem. What's up?'
Hermione sat down on Ron's bed before replying. She seemed to be ordering her thoughts and had a look on her face that was very familiar to him. She was chewing her bottom lip and her hazel eyes had a lost, faraway look about them.
'I'm not sure where to begin, to be honest, but I suppose the first thing I should do is to say sorry…'
'There's no need…' Harry began, but was cut off before he could finish.
'Please wait until I have finished, Harry.' There was a hint of asperity in her tone, so Harry decided that a bit of prudence was in order. He shut up.
'There is every need to apologise, Harry,' continued Hermione. She was avoiding having to look at him, instead sitting with her head down, her eyes fixed on her linked hands which were resting on her lap. 'I haven't been a very good friend to you recently. In fact, for most of last year I wasn't there for you at all. I was trying to do what was best for us but only ended up making things worse. If I had only listened to you about Malfoy and Snape then perhaps Dumbledore would still be alive and-:'
'Stop,' said Harry. Hermione went quiet. She seemed to be on the verge of tears. 'I will not have you blaming yourself for Dumbledore's death.'
'But, Harry…' she began, finally looking up at her friend.
'I said stop!' He realised that anger was creeping into his voice and it wasn't Hermione he was angry with. He seemed to be angry quite a lot these days, so with an effort, he calmed himself. 'You must not blame yourself, Hermione, it wasn't your fault. I spent most of the summer blaming myself before I realised two things. One; Dumbledore wouldn't blame anyone else for his death, so there is no point in beating yourself up about it; and two, the fault lies with those gits that murdered him. Snape, Malfoy and Voldemort. No one else is to blame.'
She smiled at him through her tears. 'Thanks for saying that, Harry, but it still doesn't excuse the way I treated you last year. There was the Potions book too; I was out of order for being so angry with you for that.'
'Why were you so angry?'
She paused before replying. 'I guess I was just trying to protect you - us. I was so worried about you after the Ministry last year, and I wanted to try and keep you out of trouble. But then you kept doing these things to get involved anyway. That Potions book was just the last straw I suppose. I just thought it would cause you more trouble.'
'Trouble already has a nasty habit of finding me - you know that.'
'I do know that, but I thought if I could just keep us from looking for trouble then it would all go away. Naïve, I know, but I was so scared after the Ministry that I was willing to try anything. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. I'm so sorry.' The tears that she had been fighting to control burst forth at this.
Harry did the only thing that seemed natural at that point. He slipped out of his bed and put his arms around her, hoping to offer her some comfort.
'It's OK, Hermione, really,' he whispered into her hair. 'I know exactly how you feel. There isn't a day that goes by without me worrying about you or Ron getting hurt because of me. Enough people have died saving me; I don't want to add you or Ron to the list. And don't worry about our friendship. I couldn't have asked for a better friend than you. I've lost count of the number of times you have saved me, so don't feel guilty about last year. I understand. I wasn't the best of friends to you either. If I was, then I would have listened to you more. You were right about the Potions book, weren't you?'
She nodded in his arms but didn't reply. After a moment, she stopped crying and looked up to meet his eyes. Harry was sorry about this. He had just become aware of how nice the scent of her hair was. It was also at this point that Hermione realised that that he was sitting holding her in only his boxer shorts. She stiffened and pulled out of his embrace.
'Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. You aren't even dressed. I'd better leave.' She made to stand, but Harry prevented her by grabbing her hand and pulling her down to sit next to him again. He laughed, wondering why he didn't feel more uncomfortable. It was strange, but he wasn't bothered about sitting half naked next to his friend.
'It's a bit late now, Hermione, don't worry about it. Listen,' he added, 'it's important that we clear this up because we have got a lot to do and we can't have any secrets between us. Not even the colour of my underwear,' he added with a smile.
She giggled at his remark and he was pleased to see that she did not attempt to leave.
'We have been through too much together to let something like this come between us,' he continued. 'I know I can rely on you and your friendship. I hope you feel the same way about me?' She nodded. 'So the best thing we can do is to put last year behind us and continue as we were before. If you insist on apologising I will accept, but only on the condition that you accept an apology from me. I behaved like an arse last year. I wasn't there for you, especially when you and Ron had your differences. So are we still friends? Like before?'
'Of course we are, Harry. Thank you for understanding. You have no idea what it means to me.' She embraced him again and did not seem too bothered about his current condition. In fact, she seemed to linger in his arms for longer than necessary. Finally they broke apart and she looked at him with a slightly thoughtful expression.
'About me and Ron, I think I should explain.'
'There really is no need, Hermione. It's personal and surely it's between the two of you?'
'No, it became more than just the two of us when it started to affect our friendship. You have the right to know what's going on.'
'Is there something going on?'
'Not anymore. Not that there was ever really anything happening between us anyway.' She paused. 'It's hard to explain, Harry. I don't even know myself what was going on. I wasn't acting myself anyway, that's for sure.'
'Do you like him?' He couldn't believe he had asked her that, especially after his talk with Ron last night.
'I thought I did, and I suppose that's what counts, isn't it?' she didn't wait for a reply. 'I think it was part of my whole attitude problem last year. I was striving for some normality in my life. I thought that if we just tried to act like normal teenagers then we could be normal teenagers. You know, only worrying about homework, exams and boys - well, in your case, girls. I was aware that Ron had liked me for a while and I guess I just thought that we would end up together. I suppose I thought it was inevitable and I have to admit that I found the idea quite appealing. It never occurred to me that he might end up going out with someone else. I think that's why I acted the way I did. My pride was hurt when he went off with Lavender. Here was me thinking that all I had to do was snap my fingers and Ron would come running like some little puppy dog. The thought that he didn't need me scared me. You were already proving that you didn't need me so when Ron found someone else I reacted badly. I know now that I don't feel that way about Ron, but I treated you both terribly last year,' she concluded.
'Have you spoken to Ron about this?'
'No, but I will. It needs to be resolved.'
'Don't feel bad about this, Hermione. There is nothing wrong with wanting to live a normal life. I have wanted that for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, with that madman after me, it will be some time before I can achieve that. And if you are going to remain my friend then that will be your fate too.'
'Oh, Harry, of course I am still going to be your friend. Don't you dare suggest otherwise. I don't know how you deal with this all the time, Harry, but we can deal with this. Together.' She paused before continuing. 'Is this what you and Ginny were about last year? Trying to lead a normal life too?'
Harry nodded.
'Do you still like her? Or are things finally over between you?'
'They are finally over. I know that now.' He thought he saw a flash of relief in her eyes before she responded.
'Have you spoken to her yet?'
'No, but I will. I had this conversation with Ron last night and he told me I had to tell her. He's right, of course.'
'That must have been fun. Talking about breaking up with Ginny to Ron, I mean.'
'Surprisingly, he was very grown up about it.' He saw her raise an eyebrow at this. 'No, really; he was. Of course, we had downed a few Firewhiskys, so that probably helped, but he was cool with it. He actually had a better handle on it than I did.'
'Maybe I should try to speak to him when he's in such an understanding mood. I'm not looking forward to this.'
'You will be fine. Ron will understand. Probably better than you realise.'
She sighed. 'I hope so.'
'So are we OK, Hermione? Last year forgotten about?'
'Yes, Harry. And I'm sorry. Truly sorry.' She hugged him again. He was beginning to enjoy this.
'It's OK. I'm just glad to have my friend back. My best friend. And one other thing,' he added, releasing the embrace and looking her directly in the eye. 'Don't ever think that I don't need you - I will always need you in my life, wherever it takes me.'
The smile she gave when he said this lit up her face. 'Thanks, Harry. I'm glad you think that because I don't intend going anywhere.' She hugged him again for a moment before finally letting go with some reluctance. 'I had better get downstairs now.' She gave him a conspirital wink, trying to establish more familiar ground between them. 'Molly asked me to keep you distracted while she prepared some birthday things in the kitchen. I think we have been long enough.'
'You mean all of this was just to keep me busy? I'm offended, Granger. How dare you play with my emotions like this. I was beginning to think you actually cared.'
He was smiling as he said this and she picked up on his mood.
'Now why would you think that, Potter? When have I ever said that I cared about you? What could possibly have given you that idea?' She was trying not to laugh. 'Now get dressed and get downstairs before I tell you what I really think.'
She stood up and made for the door. Just before she exited, she turned to face him.
'And, Potter?'
'Yes, Granger?'
'Thanks. For everything.'
And with that, she turned and headed down the stairs.
**********
Harry found himself in an excellent mood as he got himself ready to face the day. He was actually whistling some nameless tune in the shower for a few minutes before he realised he was doing it. He grinned as he caught himself. What a difference a day makes.
When he considered how he had felt when he was back in Privet Drive, he was astonished at how bleak everything had seemed then. He realised that straightening things out with Ron and Hermione had done wonders for his mood and he admonished himself for doubting the strength of their friendship. He could have saved himself a lot of grief over the summer if only he had put more faith in his two friends.
Ron's attitude had been the most surprising. Harry had expected him to hit the roof when he revealed that he was breaking things off with Ginny; but instead, his friend had displayed a degree of sympathy and understanding that Harry had never credited him with. There was also the fact that Ron's confession that he did not see Hermione in a romantic light had done wonders for his own sense of wellbeing. Ron's frankness had helped to lower the barriers that had built up between them last year.
As for Hermione? Harry still didn't know exactly what he was feeling for her. He had thought a great deal about her over the summer, and he was now beginning to suspect that it was not merely out of concern for a lost friendship. His talk with her this morning had been like balsam for his soul and he could not help grinning when he thought about how open and tender the two of them had been, or when he remembered that she was not interested in Ron. He knew he cared a great deal about her - probably more than anyone else he knew - but he had never considered her as more than a friend. Until now, anyway. He was aware that he was finding her image penetrate his thoughts more and more these days and it was not an unpleasant sensation, if he was honest with himself. He knew, however, that he still had unresolved matters with Ginny to deal with first.
The smile that had formed when thinking about his friend disappeared when he contemplated the conversation he knew he must have with Ginny. The prospect of hurting her was not a pleasant thought but he was aware that he would have to bite the bullet and be as frank with her as he had been with Ron and Hermione. With a sigh, he finished getting ready and headed downstairs.
When he arrived in the kitchen he was surprised by the reception he received, despite the warning from Hermione. It seemed that everyone whom he cared about had made the effort to be here for his birthday. All the Weasleys, including Bill and Charlie (but not Percy, obviously) were present, as was Remus and Tonks; Fleur, her parents and Gabrielle; Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Hagrid. The room had been decorated with banners and streamers and even some party balloons which would occasionally let the air out and whiz around the room before self inflating again. He had never, in all his life, seen such an effort put into celebrating his birthday. He was quite touched.
'Happy birthday, Harry,' chorused the group. He was suddenly swamped with handshakes and hugs and messages of congratulations. When he finally disentangled himself from the well wishers, he managed to compose himself enough to speak.
'Thank you, everyone. You didn't need to go to so much effort on my behalf.'
'Nonsense, Harry,' said Molly, 'it's your seventeenth birthday, and to wizards it is a very good reason to cause a fuss. You come of age today, Harry, so let's have no more silly talk about causing any bother. It was the least we could do. Here,' she said, handing him a little parcel.
He took it gratefully and after quickly unwrapping it, discovered a rather old fashioned, but very nice, gold watch.
'It's traditional to give a wizard a watch on his seventeenth birthday,' said Molly. 'I hope you don't mind receiving a second hand one. This one was my brother's.'
In reply, Harry smiled gratefully and hugged her. He was well aware that she was the closest thing to a mother figure he had in his life and he tried to impart this in the hug. She seemed to understand and for once Harry didn't mind her fussing over him. 'It's perfect, thank you.'
Harry could see Molly on the verge of tears so he released her, enabling her to go over to the kitchen sink to start peeling some potatoes. He watched her affectionately as she wiped her eyes.
For the next few minutes he was inundated with cards and gifts from his friends. A new Quidditch book from Ron; some items of dubious origin from Fred and George and an extremely useful pocket knife from Hagrid that claimed to cut through anything. Fleur and her family had bought him some very fashionable clothes from France that adjusted to fit him when he put them on, and Bill and Charlie had gotten him a case of Ogden's (Arthur would be happy - he could repay him now).
It was at this point that Ginny approached him. He had been hoping to avoid her for a bit, but he knew that he could not delay the inevitable.
'Hi, Harry. Happy birthday.' She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. 'Do you think we could have a word alone for a minute?'
'Sure, let's go next door,' he replied. He did not notice that Ron and Hermione had seen the exchange and shared a meaningful look with one another.
They walked in silence to the next room before Ginny closed the door behind them and turned to face him.
'I didn't know what to get you for your birthday, Harry, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure whether I would be buying a present for my boyfriend or for my friend, so I thought I would wait until I knew where I stood with you.' She paused for a second. 'So where do I stand, Harry? Can you tell me?'
Harry had been dreading this moment, but her frankness left him no room for manoeuvre. He decided that the best approach was to be equally as blunt.
'Yes, I can tell you. You are my friend, Ginny. A very dear friend to me, but no more than that. I am sorry if I have hurt you, that is the last thing I wanted to do. But I cannot give you what you want. What I said after the funeral was only a half truth. Part of the reason for breaking up with you is because I want to keep you safe from Voldemort. But since then I have come to realise that I can't offer you the love you want or deserve. I am truly sorry. I can only hope that we remain friends.'
'I'm sorry too, Harry - I thought we had something special.' Ginny seemed close to tears as she spoke. What was it with him today? First Hermione, then Mrs Weasley; and now Ginny. Birthday's were supposed to be happy occasions, were they not?
'It was great, Ginny, but it wasn't me. I can't pretend about this - it wouldn't be fair to either of us.'
'I know,' she sighed. 'We can still be friends, Harry, but I won't lie to you. Things might be difficult for a while.' She paused for a moment. 'Is there someone else?'
'No! There is no one else. How can you even ask me that?'
'I'm sorry, Harry. That was unfair. Please forgive me - I just need to get my head round this.'
He nodded. 'Take your time, Ginny, all the time you need.' They stood awkwardly for a moment looking at each other before Harry decided that there was nothing more he could do or say. He turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. When he reached the hallway he leaned back against the wall and let out a heartfelt sigh. He did not notice Ron and Hermione watching him.
'You ok, Harry?' asked Ron.
'Yeah, I'm fine. Don't know about Ginny though.'
Ron turned to Hermione.
'Maybe you could go in and see if she is alright?'
'I think she might want to be on her own for a while,' replied Hermione. 'I don't think she would want to see me at the moment. See anyone, for that matter.'
Ron looked as if he might ask her something, but decided against it. Instead, he looked at his two friends and said, 'Let's go then. Plenty to do for the wedding. Mum's got a list as long as your arm.'
The three friends headed back into the kitchen in silence, the only sound being the muffled sobs coming from behind the closed door.
***********
The rest of the day passed incident free for Harry. Most of his time was taken up with performing a number of chores relating to the wedding which was due to take place in two days. He had been most insistent to Molly about contributing as she had tried to stop him from doing any work on his birthday. He was glad for the work - it kept him busy and also kept his mind away from his earlier conversation with Ginny. He had been given the task of setting up the seating in the garden and he had found it to be relatively straightforward. The ability to use magic had helped of course, and soon Harry was assembling chairs in neat rows with successive flourishes of his wand. Molly no doubt thought she was working him too hard, but after performing chores for the Dursleys with nothing more than hard graft for years, Harry was finding this particular task to be a positive hoot. It took him a while to get it just right but, come lunchtime, he was able to survey his work with a degree of satisfaction.
After lunch, he and Ron were tasked with tidying up the garden. As this included the remit to de-gnome the property it was not done without humour. Successive lobs of the unfortunate pests resulted in greater and greater distances on the throws, and the two friends spent a pleasant few hours out in the fresh air. Bill and Charlie quickly joined them with a case of beer and soon the air was full of flying gnomes on trajectories that were becoming more and more erratic. It was the best birthday Harry could remember.
Hermione had been asked to help with the flower arrangements and garden decorations and soon the trees and bushes were covered with streamers and ribbons; golden baubles and brightly coloured flowers. The effect was remarkable but somehow the Burrow did not feel quite the same amidst all the splendour.
Ginny had joined Hermione mid-afternoon, and although the two girls worked well, Harry could sense a certain coldness between them, even from a distance. He hoped that his break up with Ginny would not cause any problems for the wedding.
After a spectacular birthday tea - that had included a cake large enough to feed an army - Harry found himself at something of a loose end. Molly had been adamant that he not help with the clearing up but not everyone was given such dispensation. As a result, he found himself out in the garden enjoying the evening sun with a feeling of contentment that he had not had for some time. He was sitting on the garden bench enjoying a glass of cold beer when he heard footsteps on the gravel behind him.
'Mind if I join you?'
Harry turned at the familiar voice. It was Hermione, now washed and changed into a flowing summer dress of pale blue that made him catch his breath in his throat. She was barefoot and was carrying a large glass of white wine in one hand. In the other was a small parcel.
She sat down next to him on the bench. 'It occurred to me that I haven't given you your present yet.'
'It occurred to me too,' said Harry, smiling. 'I thought you were serious when you said this morning that you didn't care about me.'
She pouted; feigning hurt, but then returned his smile.
'I hope you don't mind, but I didn't want to give you this with everyone there. It's a bit more personal than some of the other presents you got.'
Harry's curiosity was piqued now. What could she possibly have got him that she didn't want anyone to see? As if reading his mind, Hermione handed over the parcel.
Tearing the exquisitely wrapped paper carefully, he opened the parcel to find a small black velvet box. Raising an eyebrow at his friend as if seeking approval to continue, he saw her give a small nod, as if offering encouragement to a small child. Turning his attention back to the gift, Harry opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold pendant in the shape of a broomstick, attached to a solid gold belcher chain. It was simply stunning in its elegance.
'I don't know what to say. It's beautiful. It must have cost you a fortune. This is far too much, Hermione.'
'Don't be ridiculous, Harry. You are my friend and it's your seventeenth birthday. Money has nothing to do with it.' She had tried to sound severe, but instead it came out nervous.
'I didn't mean it like that, Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed. It's magnificent. Thank you.'
She smiled.
'You're welcome, Harry.' She gave him a quick hug. 'Do you understand now why I didn't want anyone to see? Considering you have just broken up with Ginny, I didn't think it would be particularly sensitive of me to give you jewellery as some people might think it was too personal a gift.'
He considered her for a moment. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction to receiving such an expensive gift.
He smiled.
'This is possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever bought for me. Thank you. You are a great friend to me, do you know that?'
Her face lit up at this and she gave him another quick hug. After releasing him she sat back and looked at him somewhat coyly.
'I spoke to Ron earlier. Or rather he spoke to me. We seemed to have cleared things up.'
'Was it bad?'
'No, he was the perfect gentleman. It was just as you said - he had a better understanding of things than I did. We both decided that we were much better off as friends. It's something of a relief that it was so easy. I was afraid that it would affect things between us.'
'I'm glad. Really. I just wish things had been as smooth between me and Ginny. I think she hates me.'
'She doesn't hate you, Harry. She has just suffered a severe disappointment. She will get over it - she just needs time.' It was said with apparent conviction, but Harry could see the doubt in her eyes.
'Is everything ok between you and Ginny?' he asked.
Hermione took her time before replying.
'I don't know. She has been a little cold towards me since you got here, but I don't know why. It's probably just how she is dealing with the break up.'
Harry nodded in agreement, but in his mind he considered Ginny's accusation that there might be someone else. He had not lied to her when he had denied such a thing, but he was slowly becoming aware of the possibility that he might want there to be someone else, and that someone was his friend sitting beside him now, looking beautiful in her simple dress and bare feet.
I can't go there. Not so soon after Ginny. Besides, she is your best friend. You can't risk that - not for anything. It occurred to him then that perhaps Ginny's coldness towards Hermione wasn't just as a result of the break up. Perhaps she sensed his growing feeling of attraction towards Hermione. Another reason to keep a lid on this.
'You're probably right. I hope she comes round soon.'
They both turned their heads as another footfall could be heard on the path. Ron was approaching, carrying a glass of beer in his hand.
'I was wondering where you two had got to, I've been trying to get the three of us together all day. I wanted to see if we had time to have a chat about…well, you know what.' He looked around for eavesdroppers as he said this.
Harry smiled at his friend. 'Not here, Ron. And not now. I'm enjoying myself too much today to think about it. How about we wait until after the wedding, and then we can go over everything?'
'Sounds reasonable,' Ron replied.
'Good,' answered Harry. 'I have a lot to tell you both and I would rather do it without distraction.' He laughed suddenly and raised his glass. 'Here's to a Voldemort free weekend!'
Ron and Hermione laughed and joined in his toast. Harry looked fondly at his two friends. It felt good to be sitting here sharing a drink with them as if he was just another ordinary person on his birthday. What would come would come and he couldn't do anything to stop it, so for the moment it was best if he enjoyed the peace while it lasted.
***********
Rufus Scrimgeour pulled on his robe and cast one last glance around his office. He was about to head home for the evening after a very unfulfilling day. A crumpled copy of that day's Daily Prophet lay on his desk, the headline announcing the seventeenth birthday of Harry Potter. The subsequent article was a re-hash of much of what had already been published over the years about the boy, and also speculation on what the 'Chosen One' would do now that he had come of age. Rufus thought that it must have been a slow news day for the story to have made the front page. He had been aware that Potter was turning seventeen today but had not expected the fanfare that was being made of the occasion. What the story had done, however, was confirm to Rufus that a decision was needed from him on what to do about Harry Potter.
He had been informed that Harry had left his relatives house and was now staying with Arthur Weasley and his family at their home. Whilst not having much contact with Weasley over the years, he actually knew quite a bit about him as a result of the man's close ties with Dumbledore. Rufus was aware that many within the Ministry did not hold a particularly high opinion of Arthur, but he himself was too canny to underestimate the man. Any person respected by Dumbledore was a person to take seriously; whatever the general consensus of his peers. Weasley had a reputation for simplicity and was considered something of a joke by many of the older families, despite the fact that the Weasleys were one of the oldest pure-blood families in existence. But there had to be more to him than that.
He had finally decided to offer to meet Harry and had confided his intention to only a few of his closest advisors. He wanted to keep this offer as secret as possible as he feared a public humiliation in the press if he was refused. Accordingly he had drafted a letter to Harry and only had to come up with a suitable method of delivery. He did not trust even the Ministry owls as he long suspected that there were areas of his Ministry that were infiltrated by the spies of Voldemort. He had considered asking his aide, Percy Weasley, to deliver the letter but had eventually decided against this. Percy was currently estranged from his family and if he suddenly showed up at the door of his former home, people would notice and talk. There was also the fact that Harry did not get on with Percy at the moment and this might prejudice him against a meeting before he had even read the letter. So no, Percy Weasley was not an option.
He had mulled over this little conundrum for a few hours before reaching a conclusion. Eventually he had discreetly called a close friend and former colleague from the Auror Division and had asked him to deliver the message. His friend had not been too perturbed by the strange request - he had become used to handling delicate assignments for the Minister over the years. Rufus had asked his friend to deliver the letter to Harry Potter at the Burrow first thing tomorrow morning. He had also instructed him to await a response from Harry and to make the necessary arrangements if he said yes. He had not even bothered to stress the clandestine nature of the mission - his friend was well aware that he was not to discuss Ministerial business with anyone.
So that was as far as he could go at the moment. He had made the overture to Potter and the matter was now out of his hands. He did not like ceding control of a situation to anyone, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He headed off home, tired after a stressful day, but aware that he would not enjoy the benefit of a good nights sleep when so much of importance was left unresolved
******
Almost 600 miles to the north of the Ministry building in London, Lord Voldemort stood in front of the bay window in the drawing room of the manor he was currently using as his headquarters, enjoying the spectacular sunset that was visible on the horizon. He was alone; save for his pet Nagini, who skulked in the corner.
The house was situated on the North West coast of Scotland and was an ideal location for his purposes owing to its remoteness and inaccessibility. He had purchased the property more than twenty five years before but had ensured that no trail could lead anyone to conclude that he was the owner. That this secrecy had required the deaths of one or two inconvenient agents was neither here nor there to the Dark Lord, and he often congratulated himself on securing such a fine base that no one outside of his immediate circle was aware of. Despite all these advantages however, what appealed most to him about the location was the view afforded from this very spot. As far as the eye could see were the towering cliffs that were a feature of this part of the world, and he enjoyed watching the sea crash against them in the never ending battle between two seemingly impenetrable forces of nature. Of course, intellectually he knew that the waves would win in the end; finally bringing down these cliffs after millennia of struggle. It was a slow process, but eventually the sea always won; its relentless force ensuring victory.
He smiled at the thought. He likened his own struggle to the battle being played out before his eyes. He knew he was also destined to be victorious. He too was a relentless force and eventually the cliffs and crags of magical Britain would finally succumb to his will. When that happened, nothing would stand in his way. He had taken steps to ensure that he would be alive to witness the final victory of the sea before him - however long it took.
He was somewhat perplexed at the moment, however, at the recent activity from the Ministry. He had always known that Scrimgeour was a tougher opponent than that old fool Fudge, but he had not fully appreciated just how formidable an enemy the old Auror was going to be. Anyone who could impose the emergency powers in the way he had - even to the extent of executing some of his very own Death Eaters - was someone worthy of his respect. This change in policy; allied to the surprise death of Albus Dumbledore, had caused him to review his strategy and as a result, there had not been much activity from either he or his Death Eaters for a while now. He knew that his followers were becoming impatient, but was well aware that a false move now could ruin everything.
Let them wait.
A noise behind him suddenly interrupted his reverie, much to his annoyance. He sighed.
'Yes, Wormtail? What is it that brings you here to disturb your master? I have warned you before of the consequences of disturbing my privacy.'
'My most humble apologies, my lord,' Wormtail replied, 'but Snape is here and requested an audience.' Wormtail looked askance at the snake in the corner; he had never felt comfortable around the Dark Lord's pet.
Voldemort finally turned at these words. He looked down at the weakling before him and did not attempt to conceal his contempt.
'I am well aware of his presence, fool! Do you so easily forget that Lord Voldemort knows all about his servants?'
Wormtail cowered before his master, his silver arm raised above his head as if to protect him.
'Please, master. I only seek to serve. I have your best interests at heart my lord. I would never do anything to cause offence.'
'Indeed? I shall remember that, Wormtail.' There was a hint of humour in his tone. 'Please lead him in - we cannot be seen to keep our guests waiting,' he added, mockingly.
Wormtail left the room, returning a few moments later in the company of Snape who was, as ever, dressed entirely in black. His normal cold exterior was betrayed by a barely concealed glint in his eyes. Wormtail backed out of the room, bowing low to his master.
'Ah, Severus. What is it that brings you to see me today?' asked the Dark Lord.
'Information, master,' replied Snape. 'Information of the highest importance. I have learned from a trusted source that Scrimgeour has requested a meeting with Harry Potter tomorrow night. If Potter agrees, we have the time and place of the rendezvous.'
Voldemort did not reply immediately. This indeed was news of importance and he could sense the excitement in his normally stern lieutenant. He regarded Snape for a moment. He had always found him the hardest of his supporters to read and as a result had always been wary of his motives. This of course was no longer an issue. After killing Dumbledore, there could be no doubt about the man's loyalties. He decided to indulge him for a moment.
'It is indeed momentous news, Severus. Have you any suggestions?'
'It is not my place to presume to know my master's designs,' replied Snape.
'I know that, Severus - it is one of the reasons I give you so much responsibility. But your master commands you to answer this time. Do not worry; you shall not be punished for giving your opinion, when asked.'
'Thank you, master. I would suggest that this information be handled carefully. If we decide to act upon it then we risk exposing our source. Of course, I have no personal interest in her fate, but we could lose a valuable asset if we act and are not successful. On the other hand, a source is of no use to us if we cannot use the information to our advantage. I believe that in this instance, the reward justifies the risk. If we can eliminate both Potter and Scrimgeour, we will strike a heavy blow against our enemies and the safety of the source will not be an issue.'
'A good answer, Severus, I see that you are a man to be watched!' Lord Voldemort laughed. 'That is exactly my own thoughts on the matter. A source is of no use if we cannot act upon the information received. This is too good an opportunity to miss - Potter and Scrimgeour together. If I can eliminate them then nothing will stand in my way. Prepare a plan, Severus, and brief me in when you are finished. You have three hours. Do not inform anyone of this.'
'Of course, my lord,' replied Snape. He bowed low and backed out of the room, never for an instant letting his guard down. He proceeded to his room and only when he was finally behind the locked door did he relax.
Now what the hell do I do? He thought to himself.