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Birthday Blues
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Harry Potter. The magic in the name. It meant so much to the millions of wizards scattered across the globe. And yet, Harry Potter was only a boy. A 15 year old boy. Well, a boy of 14 years, 11 months, 30 days, 23 hours, and 51 minutes. Only nine minutes until he turned 15. Yet Harry Potter was unaware of this. Tossing and turning, he was deep in a troubled sleep…
* * *
"Harry!" shouted a shadowy figure. "He got me!"
"Cedric?" Harry asked. "CEDRIC!"
The figure face came into view, it was a handsome boy, not much older then Harry. "You let him get me!" A silvery wisp of a hand snatched at him, and he was gone.
"He killed me, that one," an elderly man's voice echoed as his spectral body sped through Harry's dream.
And then, two living, breathing people strolled by, hand in hand, a black haired baby in the women's arm. Her red hair sparkled.
"Mom? Dad?" Harry said, running towards them. "It's me, Harry!"
They ignored him.
And then, a white faced being with smokey red eyes appeared, searching for the couple.
"Mum, Dad! Watch out! He's coming for you! It's Voldemort!" Harry cried hoarsely, but his parents didn't hear him. "It was Wormtail! It was Peter!"
The person that frightened Harry so much, Voldemort, turned, and there was a madness in his eyes when he began to laugh. High pitched and cold, the laugh seemed to freeze all time for Harry. Suddenly there was a flash of green light…
* * *
Harry woke up in a cold sweat. It was only a dream, he told himself. Fumbling for his glasses, he switched his bedside lamp on. It was 12:01. He was 15.
For a boy of 15 years, Harry had been through a lot. When he was only a baby, Harry had survived a deadly curse from one of the most powerful, and, arguably, the most evil wizards ever, and, at the same time, destroyed him. The curse had rebounded off Harry, leaving him unscathed, except for a jagged lightning bolt scar, while Voldemort had been reduced to next to nothing, a mere shadow of life.
Harry had lived the next ten years of his life without the knowledge that he was famous, that he was a wizard, and that he had defeated Voldemort, a wizard so feared that most still refer to him as You Know Who. With his Muggle (non wizard) relatives he had been treated poorly, and made to live in the cupboard under the stair. This all changed on his 11th birthday, when he found out his true history, and was accepted to Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards. He had attended there for the past four years, and had many adventures. He had faced Voldemort, and won, in his first and second years. In his third year, he and his good friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger helped a wrongfully convicted criminal, Sirius Black (Harry's godfather), escape from the soul snatching dementors.
Just last year Harry participated in the Triwizard Tournament, and, at the end, had to face Voldemort once more. Voldemort, formerly possessing only a ghost of a body, was born anew, and regained power, his followers returned to his side. And Harry was there, watched the ceremony that returned the Dark Lord to his body, and saw another student at his school, Cedric Diggory, killed by Voldemort's henchman, Wormtail. It was that freshly terrifying encounter that plagued Harry's nights.
The daytime wasn't much better, with the Dursleys doing the best they could to make his days a living hell. They still hadn't forgiven him for the ton tongue toffees Harry's friends, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, had given Dudley the previous summer. Dudley's tongue was nearly four feet long before the twins father, Arthur had performed a counter charm. Aunt Petunia made sure Harry weeded the garden every other day, and Uncle Vernon had Harry polishing his new car at least three times a week. With the installation of a swimming pool while Harry was at Hogwarts the previous term, cleaning the pool (without ever swimming in it) was added to Harry' repertoire. Still, these chores were a blessing to Harry when compared to massaging Dudley's odious feet.
Wishing for the summer holidays to end, quickly, Harry drifted off to sleep, a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * *
"Who!"
"Wha?" Harry sputtered, reaching for his glasses. "Oh Hedwig!" he cried, pushing the owl away from his face. Hedwig continued nipping Harry's ears affectionately. "You brought some friends, eh?" Harry said, looking around his room. There were two other owls, a tawny, and a silky gray one, each with a parcel tied around their leg.
Harry got Hedwig a dish of water and examined the message. It was a postcard from Hermione.
Happy Birthday Harry! How are your holidays? Hope the Muggles aren't treating you too badly. It still feels funny, calling them that. Anyways, mine have been good, I've been in France for the past two weeks and part of your present is a souvenir from the Eiffel Tower. It IS amazing how many new things you see when you're a witch. Oh, if Ron asks you whether I've been seeing Viktor, don't tell him, but the answer is no. I'm tired of him watching me like a hawk. Really! It's very annoying, and he won't even admit he's jealous. I'm old enough to take care of myself, and you can tell him I said so. I talked with my parents, and we agreed that Viktor IS a little bit to old for me. Hope to see you soon!
Much love,
Hermione
PS: I just got my Hogwarts letter, and I'm a prefect!
No surprises there, Harry thought. Hermione was the cleverest witch in his year! She had probably finished all her summer homework already, and he could just picture her doing the extra credit work she had asked for before last term ended. Hermione's present was a model of the Eiffel tower. When you held it up to your eye, you could look inside the windows, you could see people moving around inside. There was also a years subscription to the Daily Prophet. He wasn't sure how he was going to keep the Dursleys from catching on, but he was glad he'd be able to keep track of the news.
The tawny owl had a huge package, from Ron, Harry's best friend. He opened the letter first.
Dear Harry,
There's something funny going on at home, but Dad won't tell me what the deal is. I think it's something at the Ministry, but there doing a good job of keeping it quiet. Maybe you could ask Sirius about it. Anyway, happy birthday! Ginny wanted to make you a singing card, but I told her that those can get VERY annoying. Remember the one she gave you in the third year? Madame Pomfrey ended up burning it!
Harry did remember. It had been the first Quidditch match of the year, and there couldn't have been worse weather conditions. The rain had blinded him, making it nearly impossible to see the other players, let alone the snitch, the flying gold ball that, when caught, ended the game. Harry had finally caught sight of it, when the dementors guarding the school had come on the field. Dementors effected him badly, and the echos of his parents death had cause him to fall off his broom. He had spent the weekend in the hospital ward, and Ginny's musical creation had spent it under the fruit bowl.
Anyway, there's a note enclosed from Ginny, and everyone wanted to give you a present, so this package is pretty big. I had to send this package with a rented owl, because Pig couldn't carry it, and Mum didn't trust Errol with the job. I don't blame her, another long distance delivery looks like it would finish him off. Did you know he was Mum's when she was at school? No wonder he's so beat up!
Have you talked to Hermione? I'm trying to find out if she's spending any time with that good for nothing Bulgarian. Krum's four years older then her for Pete's sake! She says I'm jealous, but that is so not true. I just don't think she should holiday with him, he's too bloody old for her!
Harry didn't know much about this sort of thing, but even he could tell Ron fancied Hermione. It was rather strange too, after all these years. It had only become apparent when Hermione had gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum, a Bulgarian Quidditch star, and the Champion in the Triwizard Tournament for Durmstrang. Ron hadn't taken it too well.
Oh, Ginny wants me to tell you that the poem on the card wasn't from her. Fred and George wrote it there, and she can't get it to go away. She also wants to warn you not to eat the gumdrops from them either. Gassy Gumdrops, their latest creation. Have some very, er, interesting side effects. Maybe you can give them to Dudley. Is he still on a diet? Anyway, maybe we can meet in Diagon Alley, as usual. If not, see you at Hogwarts!
--Ron
Maybe he could give those gumdrops to Dudley. His cousin was already so bloated with gas, the gumdrop effects wouldn't seem too out of the ordinary, and he certainly needed a good laugh.
PS: My cousin Lauren is coming to Hogwarts this year. She's our age, but she's an exchange student. She lives in New York. I hope she'll be in Gryffindor like us! Apparently, she's going to be a prefect as well. Hermione has got some competition! So do you, actually, Lauren's a Seeker!
PPS: We've been rather worried about you Harry. You're okay, aren't you?
He hadn't known there was an exchange student program at Hogwarts. He wondered who Lauren was "exchanging" with. He hoped it was Malfoy, his archenemy. And as for Lauren being a Seeker, surely she couldn't rival him. Could she?
In addition to the Gassy Gumdrops, the twins had written a thank you note for the money Harry had given them. Fred and George were trying to start a joke shop after they graduated Hogwarts next year, and since Harry didn't need the money he won at the Triwizard Tournament, he gave it to them. The letter was stiff and formal, Harry was sure Mrs. Weasley had forced them to write it. She had made a new set of Quidditch robes for Harry, they were indigo, and fit him perfectly. Mr. Weasley sent Harry a plug (part of his collection) with a note explaining that he might want to use some eckeltricity. Ron had sent Harry a subscription to the Quidditch Weekly and a framed picture of the two of them and Hermione waving happily. Harry smiled. He missed Hogwarts so much. Percy had sent an extremely dry looking brochure on the importance of standardizing cauldron thickness (CONTINUE BARTY CROUCH'S LIFE'S WORK), which Harry used to line Hedwig's cage, and Ginny had drawn a picture of Harry flying around the Hugarian Horntail (a dragon Harry had fought in the Tournament) in his new robes. It was a very detailed and well drawn scene. The back however, nearly made Harry cry with laughter.
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord
It was smudged and a bit faded, but all too legible. Harry rolled onto his bed, hooting with glee. I better shut up, or the Dursleys will hear me. Surpressing laughter and a bout of the hiccups, Harry undid the first package from the grey owl's leg. It was from Sirius.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday! Your mom and dad would have been proud of you at the Tournament. Don't feel bad about Cedric, there was nothing you could have done. I'm so sorry you had to face all that by yourself. There's something big in the works at the Ministry, I think Fudge is finally going to take some action. I can't really give out any details, but this is REALLY big. I'm really busy here at Hogwarts, so I can't write much. Your Hogwarts owl should be arriving in a week or so (they've been sending them out alphabetically, and you're in the second group). I hope you like your birthday present.
Love,
Sirius
Harry smiled. Whatever the present was, he was sure he'd be happy with it. He opened the package quickly. A camera! Now he could take the moving pictures that were common place in the wizarding world.
The second package was a note from Hagrid.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! I figured you might be short of food, so I got the house elves to fix up a little something for you. They were all too happy to oblige, especially Dobby and Winky. Hope it keeps you full. I may not be at Hogwarts when term begins, I'm leaving on Ministry business any day now.
All the best,
Hagrid
Harry tore open the package ravenously. With Dudley on a diet, nobody ate. He hadn't had a decent meal since the end of the term feast, and since Harry was already skinny he had taken on a gaunt and strained look. If he lost any more weight, he'd practically be transparent! There was a platter of fried chicken- still warm!-, a gigantic platter of cream puffs and fruit tarts, two bottles full of butterbeer, treacle tart-his favorite!-, steak and kidney pie, bangers and mash, a cream cake bigger than his head, and some green jelly. Harry hurriedly cut a piece of the pie with the knife inside the package and ate up. The food was rich and delicious, hot and steamy, as though it had just come out of the oven. Harry couldn't get enough of it. He smacked his lips and leaned back on his bed contentedly.
It was 5:45. Uncle Vernon would want him up any minute now. Harry sighed, and removed the loose board from the floor. With all his school supplies inside, it was a bit full, but his presents just fit. God, how he wished for term to start.
* * *
A/N: Expect a title change soon, I was a little desperate when I came up with this one. : / This is kinda slow for a start, and the letters were probably a bit much, but expect a vacation to Majora for the Dursleys, and a week with Mrs. Figg for Harry in the next chapter! I know there are probably some errors in tenses, would you be so kind as to point them out? Thankies muchly. Also, I'm having a spot of trouble with British versus American English. Green jelly is supposed to be green jello, do you Brits call it jelly, or was that something I got confused about? In the part in Ron's letter where he talked about half a liter of Magical Mess Remover, was that the correct measurement? I'm not too good with the metric system.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, except for Lauren, and some aspects of the plot. Anything you recognize is not mine.