An intense crack of lightning bolted past Harry's window. The startling hit didn't faze him, however; the sixteen-year-old boy was unwrapping a package messily wrapped in brown paper. He tore at the twine, which was wound around the package like an anaconda surrounds its' prey. After he slipped off the string, he held the end of it and let the other end of it dangle, noticing the string was about five feet in length. He shook his head, dropped the twine, and tore off another layer of brown paper, only to find, to his dismay, yet another layer of paper underneath. This one, however, had a messy scrawl on top of it.
Dear Harry,
Happy sixteenth birthday! You're really growing up nicely, there, I hope them Dursley's are treating you well. I wrapped you a bit of a present, sorry about all the paper, but really a terrible storm's brewing down here at the grounds, and I'd like to keep your gift in good condition. I can't believe you're sixteen. Seems like just yesterday I was delivering you to them Dursleys on Sirius's motorbike after... well you know. Well, I best be sending along this letter now. I'll see you soon! Bye!
Hagrid
Harry grinned and tried not to think about the mention of his parents' death and his defeat of Lord Voldemort when he was just a baby. He concentrated more on the rectangular present sitting on his lap right in front of him, just waiting to be opened. Frankly, he was surprised the gift was from Hagrid; normally Hagrid's presents were alive, moving, and monstrous. Nonetheless Harry carefully but quickly unfolded the paper.
Harry's eyes widened as he overlooked the box in front of him. Inside were four enormous slabs of Honeydukes chocolate and two butterscotch, a large carton of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a sack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, a package of Fizzing Wizzibees, and about a dozen Chocolate Frogs. This was the most candy he'd ever received, apart from a large load he'd bought on his first train ride to Hogwarts. He had to resist the growing temptation to stuff himself that very moment (Aunt Petunia had made a putrid stew for dinner, Harry had taken full advantage of his usual meager portion size). He quickly pushed the box under his bed and promised himself a chocolate frog the next night.
His eyes roamed to the next gift, a tiny box wrapped in gold foil Harry presumably thought was from Hermoine. He picked up the tiny cube and in one swift movement pulled off the gold foil, revealing a maroon velvet box tightly clasped by a bronze latch. He opened the box from the latch's clutches, and found a familiar, tiny, golden ball springing around the interior of the box and realized, to his delight, that it was a golden snitch- his very own golden snitch! And, between the wings was an engraved monogram: Harry, it read, in spidery calligraphy. Harry amused himself for a moment or two by tossing the snitch in the air and catching it.
After Harry finished playing, he turned his attention to a large, burlap sack stamped with large, blue letters: Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Harry fished open the sack and peered inside. It held three scrolls, and about a dozen large boxes of products of Fred and George's joke shop, including a bag of blue candies Harry remembered the twins using on his cousin, Dudley, two years ago. Harry unrolled the scrolls and read each one, the third particularly catching his interest.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday, Harry! We can't say how much we owe you for your loan for our establishment. Business is booming! We are the best Wizarding Joke Shop in all of London! You wouldn't believe how many people stop in here daily- we caught Ludo Bagman trying to buy some fake wands in here last week. A pair of sunglasses and an oversized trench coat masked him, but one of our handy products caught him red-handed. He still refuses to pay us back after the World Cup...
Anyway, the real reason we're writing- apart from the fact it's your birthday, of course! – is that we would like to induct you into our Wall of Honors because of your generous donation. Not only will you have one of our future products named after you, you also receive the royal honor of working with our dear brother Ronald in our shop, FREE OF CHARGE! This is a limited offer, so please respond immediately. Well, we must be going Harry, it's back to work! I hope you enjoy some of our presents. You're free to use them on that chubby muggle cousin of yours!
Yours, Fred and George
Harry-
Happy sixteenth mate! I can't wait to see you this summer. Mum's trying to get a hold of Dumbledore, making sure you can come back soon, maybe in a week. I've been working in Fred and George's shop, as I'm sure they've told you. Malfoy- the dirty rotten little scumbag- came in here a few days ago, with his little girlfriend Pansy Parkinson. The little bastard purposely made a mess of the place and, in the middle of the daytime shopping rush, with a boatload of people inside the store, made a point of telling everybody within earshot about what muggle lovers we were. Get this- I actually spotted him and Pansy KISSING behind a bookcase in Flourish and Blotts. As if anyone would want to kiss Malfoy. Pansy's gone mental, she has. But I suppose she always was.
O.W.L. results should be here any day now. That means any day now an owl should be arriving and Hermoine will be going on about her phenomenal scores, about how they could have been better and about how tough next term will be.
Better get your dress robes out again, mate. Apparently there's some big event honoring the Head Boy and Girl, and sixth and seventh years have to attend. Even worse is that it's like the Yule Ball- you have to ask A GIRL to it... I think I may fake sick that day.
Happy Birthday Harry, and I'll send you an owl as soon as my mum gets word from Dumbledore!
-Ron
Dear Harry,
I would like to take this opportunity to send my apologies. I am deeply sorry that I did not believe you and turned against you during the past year. I now see the error of my ways, and feel like a fool for not trusting you. I was so happy to have the position I had that I completely forgot about all loyalty to my family, to you, and to Dumbledore. Even worse were my efforts to help the Ministry discourage the very true fact that Voldemort had returned and that you were a liar. I see now you are nothing but a very brave, courageous, honest, clever boy under the prowl of prey from Lord Voldemort. I feel like a coward for refusing to believe Dumbledore about Lord Voldemort's return simply because I did not want to believe it. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me and we can rekindle ties.
You will be happy to hear I have joined the Order with my parents. I wish to send my deepest regrets toward the death of your godfather. Regretfully, I never knew the innocence of Sirius Black until after his death, which saddens me, it would have been most pleasant to meet the godfather of the boy I know almost as my brother. I have also gotten word from Professor McGonagall that you wish to become an Auror. I think it would be quite a suitable position for you, and I support you one hundred percent.
Other good news I would like to share with you is that there will be a vote in early fall for a new Minister of Magic. This voting practice was taken from the muggle system, and the candidates include Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ludo Bagman, Delores Umbridge, a man I don't believe you know, Christian Smites, and, of course, Cornelius Fudge. This is relatively new news, not scheduled to hit the prophet until tomorrow. I highly encourage you to vote, I believe sixteen is the legal voting age.
This summer I am most pleased to announce that I have gotten engaged to Penelope Clearwater. You may remember her from your early years at Hogwarts; she was in Hufflepuff and we dated throughout our sixth and seventh years. She and I never really broke ties, even romantically, even though my family was completely oblivious to this. She now has joined the Order and works in Muggle Liaisons. She lives with her parents in a muggle flat in London. I invite you to our wedding, which we are planning to have over the Christmas Holidays. I would appreciate it if you do not mention anything to anyone, especially Ron; he briefly encountered her this summer, and they did not get along very well. No one knows except for Penny's parents and my parents.
Harry, again, I extend my deepest regrets for not trusting you. I hope we can become as close as we once were and can put our previous dispute far behind us.
Sincerely,
Percy Weasley
Harry rolled up the scrolls and yawned. So much had gone on without him, he thought, as he reclined onto his bed. Fred and George's business was bustling, and even though he was partly responsible for financing their project, he had yet to even see the property. Percy was getting married, a new Minister of Magic was being elected, Malfoy was dating, O.W.L. results were coming, and to cap it all off, an event similar to the Yule Ball was coming. Harry thought of this last item and began to panic. Who would he ask this time to the ball? Parvati Patil wouldn't go with him after how he treated her at the Yule Ball, and she surely told Lavender Brown and her twin sister, Padma Patil. Cho Chang was dating Michael Corner now, Ginny Weasley was dating Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott would surely go with Ernie MacMillan, Luna Lovegood... well he wasn't going with her, Marietta Edgecombe was out of the question, and Hermoine... well, Ron wouldn't be too happy if he took Hermoine. "If only I could ask Sirius," Harry said, thinking out loud, his voice barely audible over the raging storm outside. He coiled up at the thought of Sirius, and consumed himself with self-pity before finally drifting himself to sleep.
Several hours later, Harry awoke from the scream of the tiny alarm clock on his nightstand. His hand fuddled around past his wand and over his glasses, before finally slapping the snooze button. After several minutes of heavenly rest, the alarm screamed again, and Harry groaned, switched it to off, and hurtled out of bed.
Looking at his large feet, the only part of him that actually fit into Dudley's clothes, he trudged over to his wardrobe and yanked it open, deciding on what to wear for the day. Not that there was much choice.
He looked at himself at the long mirror hanging on the inside of the wardrobe door. He wore a baggy, heather gray t-shirt with the entire roster of the Smelting's School for Boys Wrestling Team, and a pair of plaid boxer pants. Harry pulled off his shirt and looked at his skinny figure. He didn't have muscles, but he certainly didn't have fat.
He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs, finding Aunt Petunia slicing a peach at the kitchen counter.
"Here," she snapped, handing Harry half of the peach. As Harry took a seat at the kitchen table, he noticed a particularly grumpy Uncle Vernon frowning from behind the muggle newspaper. Dudley, on the other hand, was stuffing his peach into his mouth all at once, squeezing it to make it fit. Harry remembered all of his candy upstairs hidden away in his room and smiled to himself. For a little bit of birthday kindness, he plopped his peach onto Dudley's plate. Dudley acted as if it had been there the entire time.
"God damn police force..." muttered Uncle Vernon. Harry knew it was the beginning of an early morning rant. "People disappearing like flies off the street and our police- which my tax dollars go to- can't even seem to find one of 'em! Four men gone today, yesterday two, the day before one. Who's next? Me? My son? My wife? Our police force can't track down any of them! Obviously they're being kidnapped by the same bastard... how hard is it to find seven people kidnapped by the same bloody person?" He slammed his fist on the table. "If I had things my way, the police force would be beat silly until they work hard enough to protect us! I'D BEAT 'EM SILLY!"
His face had turned a dark shade of purple. He took a breath and glanced at his watch, a gold watch he wore every waking- and sleeping- moment of every single day. He made a particular point of taking significant glances at it whenever he was around someone important. "I'm off," he gruffed, his pigment beginning to turn red- the normal color of Uncle Vernon.
After breakfast and the departure of Uncle Vernon, Harry found himself upstairs in his bedroom, reading the front page of the Daily Prophet.
NEW VOTING SYSTEM TO BE USED TO DETERMINE NEW MINISTER OF MAGIC London- Yesterday it was decided that a new system of election would be added to the traditional ministry ways to decide who the new Minister of Magic will be. Traditionally, the old Minister would appoint a new Minister after he or she becomes incompetent to fulfill his or her duties any longer. However, after Cornelius Fudge's unruly decisions, an amendment was made and on October 17th the first ever democratic election will be held. The Wizengamot and Ministry decided it would be the fairest way and would modernize the Wizarding World. Candidates have been nominated; either by a Ministry official or by a petition. Those candidates include: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror, Ludo Bagman, Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports, Christian Smites, International Department of Wizards, Delores Umbridge, Former Hogwarts Headmistress, and, of course, Cornelius Fudge. The Daily Prophet is proud to report that it will be following the election right up to the 17th.
Harry looked below the article and saw that it showed the five candidates, each one grinning and waving at him, except for Fudge, who was scowling. Harry wondered whom he would vote for; Percy said the voting age was sixteen. He certainly wouldn't be voting for Fudge or Umbridge. Ludo Bagman was a good man, but not exactly a suitable Minister of Magic. Christian Smites looked like a nice man in his mid-fifties, and Harry hoped to learn more about him. But he was pretty sure he would vote for Shacklebolt, he was in the Order and he was an Auror.
Harry pulled Hagrid's present out from under his bed. After eating two chocolate frogs and a jelly slug, a large barn owl fluttered outside his window clutching a scroll. A nervous bubble crept up inside him as he realized it was his O.W.L. results. Slowly, he walked over to the window and opened it. The owl fluttered about, dropped the scroll into Harry's palm and was off. Harry's gripped tightened over the scroll as he took a deep breath and sat in his desk. Slowly he tore the red wax apart from the paper and unrolled the parchment.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to announce the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels you sat last term. Each grade over a Poor is considered to be one OWL.
Transfiguration- Exceeds Expectations Charms- Exceeds Expectations Potions- Acceptable Herbology- Acceptable Defense Against the Dark Arts- Outstanding Astronomy- Poor Divination- Poor Care of Magical Creatures- Exceeds Expectations History of Magic- Poor
You achieved six OWLs and have qualified for the following Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test classes. You must qualify for one of these classes in order to sit that subject's NEWT test.
Transfiguration Charms Herbology Defense Against the Dark Arts Care of Magical Creatures
Sincerely,
Madame Marchbanks
Harry folded up the scroll and stuffed it into a desk drawer. He let out a groan. If only he had made NEWT Potions. His hopes of being an Auror had been flushed. McGonagall had told him last April that he would need an OWL in Potions to become an Auror, but he hadn't achieved it. What would he do? Who would he become? Fear and uncertainty bubbled up inside of him, and he remembered his fate: What would it matter if he didn't defeat Voldemort? He was to die to him or Voldemort would die to Harry. Harry hadn't paid much attention to his fate since it was delivered to him at the beginning of the summer. But now as he looked toward the future, what if there was no future for him?
Harry amused himself for the next few days organizing candy, reading his old schoolbooks, and clearing out his room. Dudley stormed around the house with his friends, and Harry often watched them having fistfights with each other in the backyard when his aunt and uncle were out.
Ron's letter came three long days after Harry's birthday.
Harry- Dumbledore says you can come to the Burrow for the rest of the holidays. Hermione will be here soon. -Ron
Harry pulled a quill out of his inkpot and quickly began writing a short note right underneath Ron's.
Thanks. I'll come tonight. I can't wait to see you. Harry
Pigwidgeon, who had delivered the letter, was now deep in a fight with Hedwig. They were pecking each other ferociously, and Harry had to pull Pig away. He tied the scroll back to Pig's leg, and gave him a shove out the window.
Harry's nosed sensed that it was dinnertime. An unusually tasty aroma of soup rose to Harry's bedroom as he smiled to himself and realized it would be his last meal this summer. His head happy with this thought, he hopped down the stairs and entered the kitchen, watching Aunt Petunia ladle split pea soup into four tiny bowls. The evening news blared, and Dudley sat at the table tinkering with his new mobile phone. According to Uncle Vernon it was the best phone money could buy, complete with a camera and a color screen. Harry thought it was useless, seeing how it was about the size of Dudley's fat forefinger.
"Phone away now, Duddums," Aunt Petunia cooed, putting a tiny bowl of soup in front of him.
Dudley looked at the soup in despair. "Mum, a little more, please?" he grunted.
Uncle Vernon looked equally depressed. "Petunia, I sell drills that are bigger than this. Dudley's a growing boy, and I am a hungry man! I could drink this in one sip."
Aunt Petunia shook her head. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's all I made."
"Well, we'll take the boy's then," Vernon reasoned. Dudley's face lighted with glee.
"What?" cried Harry. "That's not-"
But he was interrupted by the TV. "This just in. Another five people have just been reported missing. Five people were seen entering an elevator in a London skyscraper. However, they were never seen stepping off. The incident is most likely linked to the twelve other mysterious disappearances that have happened this past week. The Scotland Yard has stepped into the matter, and is researching every scene of disappearance. The Yard advises everyone to make sure that they never travel alone, and always look for a second exit in every place they enter," the blonde anchorwoman said.
Uncle Vernon slammed his fist down on the table and everyone's soup dripped over the side of the bowls. "I will not have this! Crazy disappearances... so they're saying that to avoid danger we should travel in pairs? Well that didn't work for the five people on the elevator! Probably something of your kind, Potter..."
It was silent for a few more moments as Uncle Vernon finished venting his rage. Harry quickly finished his soup before Uncle Vernon's fist caused all of it to leak over the side. "I'm leaving now," Harry said as he carried an empty bowl up to the sink. "I'll be back next summer I guess." There were no goodbyes as Harry ventured upstairs to gather his things and downstairs as he walked out the door.
He dragged his trunk, broomstick, and Hedwig down past Mrs. Figg's house, and up toward Magnolia Crescent. He sat down on the bench near the park for a moment, catching his breath before he flagged down the Knight Bus. As he looked into the bushes he realized that three years earlier, at this very spot, he had his first encounter with the only family member (besides the Dursley's) he'd ever really known. Here he had seen Sirius for the first time, and he'd thought he was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. It was ironic how he'd turned out to be just the opposite. But Harry supposed the pain his death had caused him had been the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
He was sick of thinking about Sirius. He was gone forever, and Harry's basking in his absence wouldn't bring him back to life. Determinedly, Harry stood up and waved his hands. He quickly stepped back on to the curb, and within seconds he found the violently violet Knight Bus flying down the street.
"'Arry!" shouted the pimply faced Stan Shunpike as the bus doors opened. "Long time no see. Read 'boutcha in da paper of course. Caught 'bout ten of You-Know-'Oohs followers!" Stan lifted Harry's things and tossed them in the bus. Harry handed him eleven sickles and jumped into the bus behind Stan.
"Look, Ern!" Stan shouted to the driver, Ernie. "It's 'Arry, 'Arry Potter!" Harry quickly walked to the back of the bus and took a seat on a big green armchair. The last thing he wanted was a survey of last month's events from Stan. He looked out the window as the bus flew forward. He couldn't see a thing outside except for a blur of colors and sounds. He gripped the sides of the armchair as the bus took a hairpin turn. The chair tipped slightly but quickly became upright as the bus finished its turn.
The bus finally reached the Burrow; just as well considering Harry's stomach was now on end. He made his way to the front of the bus and gathered his things. "Bye Stan, bye Ernie," he called as he jumped out of the bus. The doors closed and the bus flew off.
Harry turned and looked toward the Burrow. It was old, tall, and crooked; Harry thought it looked somewhat like a worn top hat. Still, it was his favorite house in the entire world.
A/N: I hope you like my story so far! This chapter was kind of like an introduction... It's slow, I know, but I have a lot of stuff planned to start happening too. Some romance will start soon, too, for those who are interested in that, and some general mystery is coming and of course, Quidditch. A lot of things are going on in Harry's sixth year; and next chapter will start introducing some new events! PLEASE read and review! I really appreciate it, even if it's just a short: I like it, or I hate it. If you've written some fan fiction, please tell me your story in the review board, and I promise I'll check it out, because I LOVE reading fan fiction. Thanks guys, and see you in Chapter 2, when Harry returns to Grimmauld Place!
