Harry's Summer Vacation

by TheRealGinnyPotter

Harry's Summer Vacation (UPDATED and EDITED - Sirius Black fans should like this!)

Harry's Summer Vacation

By: "TheRealGinnyPotter "

A golden hand was around Harry's throat and the owner of the hand lifted him into a large black cauldron full of snakes and a simmering dark green liquid. Mad-Eye Moody was holding him under the water trying to drown him. He struggled against all hope to get above the surface of the water - to breathe freely again. Cornelius Fudge looked on and laughed at his efforts. One of the snake's faces turned into Lucius Malfoy's face and then it wrapped itself around him and pulled him under. Harry continued to struggle. Death eaters appeared from everywhere and started laughing at him. Then Voldemort's laugh filled the air and Harry woke up, his heart racing.

It took Harry a minute to realize where he was. He was taking quick, great gasps of breath and felt cold and clammy. Harry sat up in his bed, and feeling very disoriented took a couple of slow deep calming breaths and then listened to the quiet around him. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, squinted and saw that it was 2:30 AM. Again. He settled his head back onto his pillows and stared into the darkness of his room. Harry had not been sleeping well since returning to Privet Drive. In fact, he had been having so many nightmares that he tried his best to give up sleep altogether. But his body seemed to have a different opinion on that subject and inevitably he would drift off to sleep each night, only to be awakened by nightmares. He sat there, recovering himself, thinking about tonight's nightmare. They were always the same. They always ended with Voldermort's torturing laughter.

Harry reached for his glasses, put them on and decided to write Sirius a letter. He sat down at his desk, turned the lamp on and started to write.

Dear Sirius:

Hope you're doing all right and that you're safe. I'm sorry I didn't get to spend more time with you when I was in the hospital. I really could have used someone like a father to talk to. I've been having a lot of nightmares about what happened in June. I'm not sure I'm safe here. The Dursleys are avoiding me more than ever now I guess because I'm not talking much and Uncle Vernon thinks that must mean I'm up to something. I don't want to bother Ron or Hermione with this stuff. They'd only worry and they can't do anything about it anyway. Hoping to see you soon,

Harry

He re-read the letter, frowned, and crumpled it up. "He doesn't need me to worry about right now and I don't want him thinking I can't take care of myself either", he thought. Meaning to toss the letter into the waste paper basket he missed and hit Hedwig's cage instead. She awoke with a start. "Sorry, Hedwig. I guess it's a good thing I'm not a chaser, huh?" She ruffled her feathers at him and blinked. "Not hunting tonight?" he said. "Well, at least one of us is sleeping". She tucked her head under her wing and went back to sleep. Harry picked up a yo-yo that Dudley had discarded in his favorite dumping ground, Harry's room, fixed the string and stood in the semi-darkness watching it go up and down for ten minutes or so. "What I need," he thought, "is something happy to think about". He put down the yo-yo, went over to his trunk, got out his charms book and hidden on page 397 was a picture of Cho Chang. More correctly, it was a picture of the four house Quidditch teams taken at the Quidditch Cup Presentation at the end of his third year. Everyone smiled and waved at Harry. The picture of himself gave a wink. He looked at Cho and smiled. She smiled back and gave him a delicate little wave. Then he remembered the last time he had spoken to her and he stopped smiling. "She must have thought I was a real idiot. 'Wangoballwime?' Honestly. I'm surprised she didn't laugh right in my face", he thought. Frowning, he reached out and touched the end of her long shiny black hair. She smiled at him again. "But she didn't laugh at me, did she?" he thought. "Hmmmmm", he said out loud and smiled. He looked at his own picture for a minute and then walked over to the mirror to survey his current self. He had definitely grown taller since that picture was taken. A lot taller he thought. But he frowned and thought, "still skinny though". Then he went back to looking at the picture. He had avoided looking at this particular player but now he looked into Cedric's face and his jaw tightened. Cedric smiled up at Harry with that warm, friendly smile Cedric had been famous for. It was hard to look at him. The memory of Cedric lying on the ground, lifeless was still very fresh in his memory and Harry felt very responsible for Cedric's death no matter how many times people told him it wasn't his fault. "After all," Harry reasoned, "if it hadn't been for me, he would have never been in danger. He would have never found himself facing Voldemort's wrath. He would have still been here, the Tri-Wizard champion and Hufflepuff Seeker, looking forward to his last year at Hogwarts and to his whole future".

He looked at Cho's picture again, and remembered how close she and Cedric had become after the Yule Ball and how sad Cho had looked at the leaving feast when Dumbledore toasted Cedric. He remembered the tears rolling down Cho's face and the feeling of helplessness he felt. "She must be feeling really awful too", he thought. He put the picture back on page 397, closed the book and put it back in his trunk. He yawned. "Maybe I should go back to sleep", he thought, but the nightmare was still pretty fresh so he sat back down at his desk and feeling brave, wrote a new letter:

Dear Cho:

I didn't get a chance to talk to you before we all left for the summer. I hope you're all right and you're having lots of fun doing whatever you're doing. I know you must have been really upset about Cedric and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to make things better for you.

Love, Harry Potter

P.S. I think you're really pretty.

This letter too, was crumpled up and joined Sirius' letter at the bottom of the waste paper basket. "She'd laugh at that, alright", he thought.

Harry drummed his fingers on the desk, yawned again, and looked at the clock. 3:25 AM. He took one of his favorite books, Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, last year's Christmas gift from Hermione, out of his trunk and got back into bed to read. He was half way through the chapter on Jared Knapp's use of the Wronski Feint against Edinburgh in 1968 when the book fell to the floor and Harry's head fell back on his pillow.

The rest of the night passed without nightmares and before he knew it, he was hearing noises downstairs and Aunt Petunia filling Uncle Vernon in on the usual happenings of the scandalous neighbors. Harry got up, looked at his dark circle-eyed face in the mirror and felt his stomach growl. He went downstairs to the kitchen, where as usual, he was ignored. Uncle Vernon was reading the paper as Aunt Petunia tried to tell him about the ridiculous outfit Mrs. Ebecure was wearing yesterday. Dudley was in his new favorite spot – in front of the television in the kitchen that now had one of his favorite birthday presents, a Sony Playstation 2, hooked up to it. This was his new favorite spot because Uncle Vernon had placed the television and game in such a position that Dudley could play the game and reach the refrigerator without even getting up. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had given up on Dudley's diet completely and Uncle Vernon had called the school and told them in a very firm tone, "if you want to continue to receive the generous donations that my family provides, I suggest that you have a uniform made for my son at once. I would think that you would be proud to have such a healthy, strong boy as an example of the type of men your institution turns out." And that was that. At least, Harry thought, he wouldn't starve to death this summer.

Harry tried to get to the refrigerator without crossing Dudley's path, but the cables to the controllers were everywhere and had Dudley been sitting any closer to the refrigerator he would have been sitting in it. Nope. He would have to actually speak to Dudley. No getting around it. "Excuse me", Harry started, "can I get to the fridge?" Dudley's eyes were glazed over and some odd-looking creature on the screen jumped up and bit the head off of another creature. Harry tried again, a little louder. "EXCUSE ME, can I get to the fridge?" Aunt Petunia wheeled around; "don't you yell at Dudley. Don't they teach you any manners at that school of yours?" "Sorry," Harry said. He had made up his mind that he was not going to give the Dursleys any reason to pick on him this summer. Not this summer. Not when he was already feeling so low. Dudley looked around at Harry and then looked him up and down. He stood up and stretched his tree trunk-like arms. Dudley had grown too. Up and out, and there was also something new about Dudley. He had a moustache. Granted it wasn't as big and bushy as Uncle Vernon's yet, but he had a mustache nonetheless. Harry had not gotten his mustache yet and this did not go unnoticed by Dudley who greeted Harry every morning with the same comment, "still no mustache, Potter? Well, maybe you'll be a man SOME day". Harry never responded to this and after hearing this for about the 20^th time now, Harry found it easier to ignore, so he opened the refrigerator and took out some orange juice, eggs, bacon and toast and made himself breakfast. He ate in silence, washed his dishes and put them away.

Harry started to leave the kitchen when Aunt Petunia put out a hand to stop him. Harry had grown almost as tall as Aunt Petunia, but she didn't seem to let this intimidate her and she poked him in the chest and said, "where do you think you're going? I have chores for you to do. You have been a non-contributing burden on us long enough. Here is the list of chores you will complete today and every day as long as you wish to have this roof over your head". She handed him the list. Uncle Vernon ruffled his paper and muttered, "too right". Harry looked over the list and then looked up at Aunt Petunia and said, "does the grass really need to be cut every day?" This was a mistake. Uncle Vernon was on his feet and in Harry's face. Harry was taller than Uncle Vernon now and clearly Uncle Vernon didn't like this at all. He puffed himself up, shook his fist at Harry and said, "you cut that grass boy, every day, or…" Harry desperately wanted to say "or what?" but Dumbledore had told him that he was safe as long as he was at the Dursleys and as much as Harry hated this idea, the nightmares had made him feel unsafe for really the first time ever and he thought maybe he should just trust Dumbledore on this one. "Yes, sir," Harry said in the best submissive tone he could muster. Dudley chuckled as Harry left the room reading the list:

Daily Chores

Make everyone's beds

Cook breakfast

Clean dishes

Wash, fold and put away laundry

Clean floorboards

Clean doorframes

Clean windows

Cook lunch

Clean dishes

Scrub kitchen floors

Scrub bathroom toilets

Scrub bathroom floors

Cut grass

Trim hedges

Water flowerbed

Rake leaves

Sweep walkways

Wash the car

Stay out of our way

"Huh. Well, at least I don't have to cook dinner," Harry thought, "and maybe this will help take my mind off all those nightmares". He went upstairs, tacked the list on his bulletin board next to the calendar that he used to mark off the days until he could return to Hogwarts and started to work on the list.

By some miracle, it started to pour down rain about 3:00 PM, and Uncle Vernon did not want Harry to get his new lawnmower and yard tools wet, so Harry found himself with some very welcome free time. He went up to his room, put on some clean clothes and lay down on his bed. "Not sleeping well was going to make completing his list every day very difficult indeed," he thought, "but what choice did he have? Run away? With Voldemort as angry as he'd ever been at him? No. He'd just have to make it through somehow." He decided to answer Ron's last letter and went over to his desk to write.

Dear Ron,

Hope everything's ok with you. Thanks for your last letter and the copy of The Daily Prophet. I can't believe that Ireland got squashed in the quarterfinals, can you? I wish I could practice my flying. You are still planning to try out for the Gryffindor House keeper position aren't you? I hope so. Well, everything's the same as always here at the Dursleys. Don't worry about me.

-Harry

This letter did not wind up in the waste paper basket but rather around Hedwig's leg and despite Hedwig's reluctance to go out into the pouring rain, she flew off to deliver her post.

He picked up the Quidditch Book that had fallen to the floor the night before, sat down in his reading chair in the corner and started to read. He'd only gotten about 5 pages into the chapter on Seeker techniques when Hedwig reappeared in the room, soaked to the bone and still carrying the letter to Ron. Harry jumped up and crossed to her. "What's wrong? What happened?" Then Harry realized with a start that this wasn't Hedwig. It was a snowy owl alright, but this one had a few more summer brown spots than Hedwig had and this one, after close inspection, was a male and Harry quickly found out, acted like one. The owl held his head very high, stuck out his leg efficiently and allowed Harry to take the letter. "Thank you," Harry said to the owl. The letter was addressed in lavender ink in an extremely delicate handwriting to:

Harry Potter

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry held the letter up to his nose. It was perfumed and smelled of rich strawberry ice cream and – Harry sniffed again – birthday cake. Amused and curious, he opened it. It was a birthday card and on the front was a beautiful watercolor rendering of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in action. He opened the card and his heart stopped and his stomach lurched.

Dear Harry:

Happy Birthday. I hope you like the card, I drew it myself. I'm afraid I'm not a very good artist, but I really enjoy painting so, I thought, why not? A friend told me that you usually spend your birthdays alone so I thought I would send you a birthday card. I enchanted the card to smell like birthday cake and strawberry ice cream. I hope you like it; strawberry ice cream's my favorite.

Love, Cho

P.S. If you'd like some company you could write to me. I could use a pen pal. My mum and dad have taken me to a country home for the summer and I'm afraid I'm rather bored. Just send a reply back with Orsino.

Harry's heart seemed to have stopped beating and his mouth was open. He pinched himself hard on the arm. "Yep, awake," he thought. He re-read the letter twice more and his smile broadened each time he did. What to respond to first. Wow. A thousand thoughts were racing through his head. He turned to look at Orsino who was standing in the owl equivalent of a military "attention" position waiting for instructions. "Well, you're a very well trained owl, Orsino," he said smiling. "Maybe you should stick around and meet Hedwig. You didn't mind flying in the rain, did you?" Harry stroked the owl and realized all of a sudden the reality of the situation. This was Cho Chang's owl. In his bedroom. And he had carried a letter from Cho Chang to him, Harry Potter. Wow.

He sat down at his desk, took out a quill and parchment and started writing:

Dear Cho:

Are you kidding? Of course I want to be your pen pal. I've been wanting to talk to you ever since I first saw you 2 years ago. I really like you.

Love, Harry

He re-read the letter and let out an "eek", tore the letter up and tossed it in the trash. He started again:

Dear Cho:

Thanks for the birthday card. It was great. What do you mean you're not a great artist? I think you're the best artist I've ever known. Oh, and it's not my birthday until July 31^st but I don't mind, you can send me a birthday card anytime you want. You're really pretty.

Love, Harry

"Ackh!" Harry cried, "that's right, make her think she's stupid for getting my birthday wrong". This one too made it into the waste paper basket.

He made three more attempts at the letter until finally, he settled on one that he felt he could send:

Dear Cho:

Thank you for the birthday card. I really liked your drawing. I like strawberry ice cream as well. Yes, I would like to be your pen pal. Bye for now.

Harry

P.S. My birthday isn't until July 31^st but it was very nice to get an early card.

He read it one more time just to make sure it didn't sound too desperate and then satisfied it didn't, he tied it to Orsino's leg, thanked him very much for being patient and sent him on his way.

Harry couldn't have felt any better if the Dursley's had suddenly sent him to live with Sirius. He sat for a long while looking at Cho's letter and the picture she'd drawn him and then suddenly thought that this would be a very bad thing for Dudley to find. Not that he ever came into his room, still Harry didn't want to take any chances. So he got out his charms book again and added Cho's card to the picture on page 397.

That night he thought surely as good as the day had been, that he wouldn't have any nightmares and he got into bed, confident of a good night's sleep. But as Harry soon found out, the subconscious mind is a complicated thing.

Prongs was being cornered by dementors. They had knives and were stabbing him repeatedly. The image faded. Harry tossed in his bed and groaned in his sleep. Voldemort was torturing his mother with the crucio curse. Harry tried to stop him but Voldemort took his wand from him and snapped it in two. The image faded. Harry tossed again. Harry was standing in a house. A house he didn't recognize. And then he realized what house he was in. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off---". Harry of course had been in this scene before but this time it was different. Voldemort was there and he approached his father. His father raised his wand but before the spell he was about to cast could leave his lips, Voldemort had shouted "Avada Kadavra" and the blaze of green light, even in his dreams was blinding. He watched as his father fell to the floor dead. Harry's conscious self awoke the sub-conscious and he sat up in his bed, yet again, heart racing, breathing fast and covered in a cold sweat. "Will this ever stop?" He swallowed hard. Something was fighting very hard to get out of him. He blinked. "I am not going to cry," he said. "I am not going to cry," he repeated more defiantly. He willed himself not to, recovered himself from the nightmares and looked at the clock. 2:30 AM. With a great sigh, he turned on the lamp on his bedside table, put on his glasses and reached inside the table and pulled out the photo album of his parents. He opened it slowly, knowing full well that this was going to be difficult to look at in his current state, but he needed to see his parents when they were happy and healthy and full of life. He looked at the pages. At first it gave him comfort to see them smiling and waving at him and then he turned to the picture of his parents on their wedding day, his favorite. He blinked hard and fast and swallowed. His breathing had increased. He looked at his dad so full of love for his mother. He looked at his mother who looked adoringly at his dad. And then Harry realized that he would never know those looks, never know their love. He shut the book and closed his eyes. He bowed his head and swallowed. And the tears came.

*******************************

Harry wiped his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears and then he covered his face with his hands and then pressed in on his temples forcing the emotions back inside. "Stop it!" he said to himself with gritted teeth. He took a couple of breaths, sniffed, and hurled the photo album of his parents across the room. Hedwig gave a great startled hoot and turned to stare at the now very angry Harry. She was still pretty upset at Harry for making her go out in the rain earlier and she glared at him and threatened to let out a loud screech. "Sorry," he said shortly to her. He was scowling and his apology lacked sincerity. He sat there staring at his only companion and then more softly said, "sorry". Hedwig seemed satisfied this time and after giving him a wary look, she went back to sleep. Harry threw back the covers and stomped out of bed. He didn't care if he woke Dudley or the Dursleys. He just simply didn't care tonight. He was angry at the world and angry with himself. "Stupid," he said as he pulled on his shoes. "Crying over my dead parents. It's stupid. It's not going to bring them back, is it? So why do it?" He put on a jacket, went downstairs, through the kitchen and out the door to the back garden. He wanted to hit something he was so angry. He walked in circles around the garden about 6 times, teeth gritted, jaw tight, brow furrowed. Then he sat down on a bench in a corner of the garden. He liked this bench. It was out of sight of the house and as close to the edge of the Dursley's property as you could get without actually leaving it. He had sat on this bench a lot when he was a child. He used to imagine that it was a flying bench that would take him away to where his parents were. Harry remembered this and shook his head. He sat there, in the dark, thinking of nothing in particular, until at last, his jaw relaxed a little, his face became less tense and he stopped being so angry with himself. He looked up and realized that it was a full moon. He lay down on the bench for a better view. It was really quite beautiful, he thought. Every now and again the moonlight would shine through a passing cloud and cast shadows on the grass around him. Harry lay there watching the moon and the clouds for a long time. It was so quiet and peaceful out here that he thought he could have sat there forever. He was getting very relaxed and very sleepy and thought he might just sleep right here tonight. But a rather loud cat's meow woke him from this daze and he squinted into the darkness looking for the source. Some of the insecurities he'd been feeling about his safety returned suddenly and he felt his stomach turn over as he got up darting looks into the nearby bushes. He started quickly walking toward the house. He jumped with a start as he almost fell headlong over a cat that had just stepped across his path. Giving a great sigh of relief, he said, "Gladys. You scared me". Gladys belonged to Mrs. Figg and one of Gladys' favorite napping places was the Dursley's garden. Harry was always shooing her away, as Aunt Petunia hated animals of any sort. Harry gave her the usual "go home, Gladys, before Aunt Petunia finds you," and then Harry took one last glance at the moon, went back up to his bedroom, got back into bed and fell asleep.

A beautiful day had dawned the next morning and sunlight was flooding through his open window. Harry stretched and yawned, put on his glasses and sat on the side of the bed for a moment trying to wake up. He suddenly remembered about his parent's photo album and he quickly got up and crossed to the spot near the desk where the album lay. He picked it up gently and carefully made sure that it hadn't been damaged in his anger. He spoke to the album; "I'm sorry mum. I'm sorry dad. It's just been kind of tough lately, ya know?" And quickly putting a stop to any emotions that might be trying to step out of check, he put the photo album back in it's place next to his bed.

He was running late. He better get started on his chore list or he'd never finish before dark. Undoubtedly, Uncle Vernon would want the grass cut twice today to make up for yesterday's rain out. So, sighing resignedly, he went downstairs, ate breakfast and started on his chores.

It was dusk and he was only halfway through cutting the grass in the front garden when he noticed an eagle owl fly overhead and straight into his bedroom window. He had a very bad feeling about the letter that owl was carrying so, head down, he finished cutting the yard, and like a prisoner headed toward the gallows, Harry walked up the stairs and into his room. The owl was sitting on the footboard of his bed, looking very proud and very serious. "Uh oh," Harry thought. He approached the owl who held out her leg for Harry to take the letter. He sat down on the bed to read it:

Harry,

You and I had an agreement that you would write to me every week. You have not written me in two weeks. Furthermore your last letter told me nothing about how you are feeling. I don't want to hear about the weather on Privet drive or Dudley's birthday presents again. I want to hear about how you are doing. Do you understand me? Send me an answer back with this owl immediately. She's been told to wait for a response.

Sirius

Harry was half angry, half overjoyed at Sirius' scolding. He desperately wanted to tell Sirius everything about the nightmares and his feeling scared but on the other hand he didn't want him to worry and possibly put himself in danger of being captured again over what really amounted to a few bad dreams. The eagle owl stared at him. Harry stared back. "Oh, all right". He sat down at his desk. He thought about what he could possibly say that was going to satisfy Sirius but at the same time not worry him. He thought for awhile. And then, he took out a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote:

Dear Sirius,

I'm fine.

Love, Harry

He tied the letter to the leg of the eagle owl and sent her on her way. He watched her fly away knowing he was going to be in serious trouble with Sirius for that one. But at least, he figured, he wouldn't have to worry about it for another week or so.

The heavy load of chores did have the effect of making Harry very tired and for three whole nights in a row he slept without a single nightmare. And although he was aching from head to foot from all the chores, he actually felt rested and in a better mood than he had been in all summer. It was on the fourth night, however, that he had a familiar yet unfamiliar nightmare. He was in his parent's house in Godrics Hollow. Everything looked just the same as the night his parents were murdered. Voldemort was there too as always but the voice saying, "go, run, it's him", was not his father's but Harry's own voice. And the woman he was trying to protect was not his mother but a pregnant woman Harry could only make out the ghostly shadow of. Voldemort pointed his wand at the woman and said "Avada Kadavra". He awoke with an audible gasp, sat bolt upright in the bed, and put his hand to his forehead. His scar hurt. Harry quickly snapped on the light and looked around. The panic was palpable in his whole body. Harry put on his glasses as he went quickly to the foot of his bed and threw open the lid. He took out his wand and his invisibility cloak. He went over to the corner of the room near the window and sat down cross-legged on the floor facing the door. He covered himself in his invisibility cloak and hid from the world.

Hedwig's hoot woke Harry who had a very stiff neck from having slept propped up against the wall. It was daylight and things seemed much less frightening this morning than last night and he took the cloak off, put it and his wand away, angry with himself again. He turned to feed Hedwig when he realized that Orsino was also here. This certainly cheered Harry up. He almost skipped over to Orsino and took the letter from his leg. Harry looked at Hedwig who seemed to be uncharacteristically friendly to this stranger owl. He put the letter to his nose. This letter was perfumed not with birthday cake and strawberry ice cream but with the sweet smell of magnolias. Heart racing, stomach tightening, he opened the letter.

Dear Harry,

I'm so awful with dates. Please forgive me for getting your birthday wrong. Well, it'll just give me an excuse to send you another card (ha ha). I'm glad you liked my art and I'm glad you want to be my "owl pal".

Like I said in my first letter, mum and dad have taken a cottage for the summer and they seem to be perfectly content to sit and watch the birds all day. The only other house around here is about a 15-minute walk from here and it's just an elderly couple – no kids. So, I'm pretty bored.

I've been practicing for a piano competition that takes place right before school starts. I really wish they had music lessons at Hogwarts. That's one of the only things I miss about muggle schools. I like the competitions – it can be as thrilling as catching the snitch!

Well, bye for now. I hope you're feeling alright and you haven't been thinking too much about what happened at the end of last year.

Love, Cho

P.S. Did you see that full moon a couple of nights ago? It was so beautiful. I went outside late that night and looked at it for a long time.

He smiled and read it again. And again. Each time he read it, he felt as if there were some very large creatures of some sort flying around in his stomach. He liked the feeling.

He wrote back:

Dear Cho:

I didn't know you played the piano. I really like music, but I don't know much about it I'm afraid. I would like to hear you play sometime. The Dursleys are keeping me pretty busy. You said there weren't any other kids our age nearby so I guess that means you don't have any brothers or sisters like me?

I did see the full moon the other night. It was beautiful. Well, bye. Write soon.

Love, Harry

He hesitated three or four times before writing "Love" Harry and he dearly wanted to say that the moon was beautiful and so are you, but he opted for just the "Love" and skipped the beautiful part and put the letter in an envelope and addressed it. Harry tied the letter to Orsino and sent him on his way. Hedwig watched Orsino fly away with what Harry thought was much more interest than usual.

Thoughts of Cho Chang seemed to completely consume him. He couldn't seem to think of anything else. He had such warm, unusual feelings about her that he went around with a permanent smile on his face. This had the effect of making the Dursleys sure he was up to something so they gave him quite a wide berth, which was always fine with Harry. Dudley still continued to tease Harry about his lack of a mustache though and while Harry didn't really care what Dudley thought, he remembered that Cedric certainly had been able to grow one and he rubbed his upper lip at this thought and wondered if Cho liked men with moustaches or not.

Night fell and as he finished putting away the last of the yard tools, he looked up at the waning moon. He especially liked the fact that like himself, Cho had been looking at the full moon that night. The same moon. Harry thought he'd never look at the moon in quite the same way again. It was their moon, a common connection between them, and somehow he felt closer to her just knowing that she might be looking at the moon tonight too.

********

With such pleasant thoughts of Cho in his head, Harry slept well that night and awoke ready to get an early start on his chores so that he could be in his room by dusk just in case Orsino came by. He was having a lot of trouble concentrating on things and seemed only to be able to think of getting Cho's next letter. He mistakenly used the furniture polish on the windows in the living room and after cleaning that up managed to put Aunt Petunia's red blouse in the laundry with Dudley's white underwear. But the real shock of the day came that afternoon, when he noticed the eagle owl that had come by the other day with Sirius' letter returning to his bedroom – with a red envelope in it's beak. "OH, NO!" Harry shouted and dropped the rake he was holding, sprinted to the front door and flew up the stairs to his bedroom. He snatched the Howler out of the bird's mouth and ran down the stairs and into the living room with it. He looked around frantically trying to figure out what to do with it. "The fire," he thought and the remembered, "no fire – it's summer you idiot, maybe I could start one – oh that's right – electric." He ran into the kitchen bumping into Uncle Vernon in the hallway. He stood there in the kitchen where Dudley and Petunia froze in shock at the crazed expression on Harry's face. "Sorry," he spat. But as he turned to leave the kitchen the howler burst open and Sirius's voice filled the whole house:

I don't think so, harry. You write me that letter that I told you to write or I will show up at your house tonight to discuss it with you and the Dursleys personally.

Waiting for a reply,

Sirius Black, your convicted murderer wizard Godfather

The howler burst into flames in Harry's hand and disappeared in a great puff of black smoke. The walls stopped reverberating and the room became deadly silent. Harry stood frozen on the spot, eyes wide, his voice as frozen as his body. Dudley was pasty white and had a look of complete terror on his face. Clearly remembering his last two encounters with wizards he lumbered from the room as quickly as his massive body would allow him, knocking over two chairs as he did, and a few seconds later the distinct slamming and locking of a door could be heard upstairs. Aunt Petunia seemed to have lost her voice as well and her lips seemed to be glued together and she stood blinking and blinking and blinking. Uncle Vernon, however, found his voice and was in Harry's face with 2 great steps forward. "What is he talking about, boy?" Harry was casting around for something to tell Uncle Vernon. "Well?!" Vernon said. "Um," Harry started, "um". Uncle Vernon raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Yes?" he said viciously. And then it occurred to Harry. This was the perfect opportunity to get out of some of those chores. "Well, I kind of told him that I had a lot of chores to do and well, he wanted me to send him a list of those chores so that he could decide whether you were being too hard on me or not". Aunt Petunia's lips became unstuck and she let out a squeak. "But I didn't want to send him the list because I didn't want to get in trouble with you and Aunt Petunia". Vernon was having a little trouble putting this all together in his mind but then the realization that an angry wizard murderer might show up on their doorstep overrode anything else he was thinking and he said to Harry, "you know, maybe your Godfather is right. You've done enough chores for one summer. You just go write your Godfather a letter and tell him that you won't be doing anymore chores this summer. Ok?" Harry, who was trying desperately to keep a straight face said, "yes, sir." And then he walked out of the kitchen and up to his room holding in a great burst of laughter that found it's way out as soon as he was in his room. Why this summer was going to work out just fine after all. He continued to laugh until he saw the eagle owl sitting on his footboard and remembered abruptly why the owl was here. "Oops," Harry said. He growled and sat down at his desk, realizing he had better come up with something to tell Sirius and fast.

**********************

Harry was torn between wanting to tell Sirius everything and telling him nothing. He drummed his fingers on the desk, fed Hedwig some owl treats, played with his Hungarian Horntail model, drummed his fingers some more and furrowed his brow. He let out a determined sigh, took out a quill and parchment and started to write:

Dear Sirius:

I'm glad you asked how I was feeling. Actually, I'm not doing so well. I'm having a lot of nightmares, I can't sleep and I don't feel safe. I keep thinking about Cedric and I feel responsible for his death. I don't know what to do.

Harry

He re-read it and thought, "I can't. I just can't." And he tore the letter up and threw it away. He closed his eyes and made a decision.

Dear Sirius:

I had a bad dream when I first got home but I'm fine now. Don't worry about me.

Love, Harry

He put the letter in an envelope, addressed it to Sirius and tied it to the leg of the Eagle owl who looked extremely reproachful. Harry glowered at her and told her to mind her own business before tossing her out the window.

Well, that was that, he thought, and decided to think about his good fortune in getting out of his chores. Yep, this was great. Sirius would be happy he wrote back, Dudley would be doing the chores instead of him and he could spend all his free time writing to Cho. He walked over to the mirror to check for any signs of a mustache, and habitually reached up to smooth his bangs over his scar. He traced the length of his scar with his fingertips and suddenly remembered the nightmare he had last night. He puzzled over it for a minute or two, smoothed his bangs, frowned at his lack of a mustache and then plopped himself on his bed for a nice nap.

He was awakened by something pinching his hand. "Ouch. Stop it." He woke up. He still had his glasses on and he quickly focused in on Orsino who had been nibbling on his hand to get his attention. Grinning instantly, Harry jumped up out of bed and said, "Orsino! Where have you been? You need to come by more often Orsino." He smiled, stroked his head and watched him fly over to Hedwig. Hedwig seemed quite delighted to see Orsino. It was getting dark and Harry flipped on his bedside lamp to read his letter from Cho. He smiled as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet smell of magnolias. He opened his eyes and drank in every word.

Dear Harry:

Thanks for your last letter. It was really nice to hear from you. No, I don't have any brothers or sisters. Mum and Dad adopted me when I was 2 years old and I'm their only child. They're muggles and boy were we all surprised when I got my letter from Hogwarts. I think they're really used to the idea now, but they still want me to continue with my piano lessons and art classes and such. Anyway, I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister, how about you? Oh, but then you grew up with your cousin so I guess that was a lot like having a brother, wasn't it? You'll have to tell me about him sometime. I'll bet you had a lot of fun growing up together.

My practicing for the piano competition is going quite well. I'm playing the Fantaisie-Impromptu by Chopin. Do you know it?

Listen, can I ask you something really personal? I was wondering how you were feeling about Cedric Diggory? I think it was a really sad thing that happened and I was pretty upset about it for awhile but I'm better now. I was thinking about you though, and wondering how you must have felt to see, well you know, see him, see it happen? And seeing Voldemort like that. Wow. You must have been so scared.

Anyway, I hope you don't blame yourself or anything like that. You're a really nice person and I'm sure it must have been very hard.

Well, I hope I didn't get too serious on you and make you want to stop writing. Send an owl soon.

Love, Cho

P.S. I remember – July 31^st.

How could she see right through him like that? Wow. How could she know how he was feeling like that? The swarm of flying creatures in his stomach was at an all time high. He smelled the letter again. He would never be able to smell magnolias again without thinking of her.

He took out parchment, a fresh quill, and a particularly nice shade of dark blue ink and began to write back. He had an oddly comfortable feeling about writing to her. He didn't quite know what to call it. He trusted her with his feelings in a way he had never trusted anyone with his feelings and he shared them with her openly:

Dear Cho:

Thank you for your last letter. I loved hearing from you. I'm glad your piano practice is going so well. I'm afraid I don't know anything about Chopin but I'd really like it if you would teach me about him sometime.

Growing up with Dudley (my cousin) wasn't exactly like growing up with the ideal brother – well unless your idea of a brother is someone that has his friends chase you around to beat up on you all the time. To tell you the truth, most of the time I wished I had been left in an orphanage instead of living here. The Dursleys didn't really want to raise me and only took me in I guess from some sort of obligation. I hate the fact that I never got to know my parents. It sounds like your adoptive parents really love you. You're lucky.

I'm glad you asked me about Cedric. I've been wanting to ask you how you felt ever since it happened but I never got a chance to. You looked so sad at the leaving feast. I feel like it's my fault that Cedric died. Voldemort was after me and if he hadn't been after me Cedric would still be alive. And you're right, it was really hard to see it happen. I've been having a lot of nightmares about the whole thing. I wish I knew how to make them stop.

Anyway, I'm really glad you wrote to me. I feel like I can tell you anything and it's making the summer go by a lot faster too.

Hope to hear from you again soon.

Love, Harry

P.S. I think Orsino and Hedwig like each other

He re-read the letter and without hesitation this time, put it in an envelope, addressed it and tied it to Orsino's leg. Orsino was taking a little encouragement to return to his duties but he did and flew out the window into the darkening sky. Harry watched him fly out of site, sat down next to Hedwig and with a rather childlike grin on his face, stroked her head for several long contented minutes.

That night, Harry did not have nightmares. Instead, he had the most wonderful dream. He and Cho were alone on the Quidditch field. They were flying together, laughing and taking turns trying to catch each other by the end of the broomsticks. She smiled at Harry in his dreams and Harry grinned in his sleep. When he awoke the next morning, he was still smiling and for the first time in weeks there was not a trace of fear in his heart.

Orsino began coming by every day with a letter and every day Harry would send Orsino home with a reply. Harry shared everything with Cho. His feelings about the Dursleys, his fear of feeling unsafe, his guilt over Cedric, and even some of the details of his nightmares. Cho was supportive and sensitive and had the amazing effect of making Harry feel completely safe and calm and though he was scared to say so, loved. Hedwig and Orsino would often fly off together and Harry smiled and thought of his dreams about Cho every time they did.

**********************

On the morning of July 31^st, Harry got up, stretched and crossed to the mirror to survey his now 15 year old self. He checked for a mustache, checked the notch on the wall next to the mirror where he kept track of his height, and lifted his shirt to check for an increase in poundage. "Huh", he said, "well, I guess I'm an ok looking guy." He cocked his head and then straightened himself up squaring his shoulders and raising his chin in an attempt at a debonair look. He rubbed his upper lip to encourage some growth. Then, instead of flattening his hair, he took both his hands and ruffled it quickly with all 10 of his fingertips. It stood up perfectly in every direction and Harry chuckled at it. "Much better," he said. "Well, another Happy Happy Birthday at the Dursleys for me," he proclaimed. But nothing was going to spoil the good mood he was in and he plopped down in his reading chair to read his Quidditch book before heading down to breakfast.

When he couldn't stand the growling in his stomach any longer, he went downstairs and into the kitchen where Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were going over some sort of guest list. Harry muttered under his breath in a mocking tone, "Happy Birthday Harry – can't believe it's been 15 years – we're so lucky to have a wizard in the family". He smiled at his own sarcasm and crossed to the fridge. Dudley was backed up against the refrigerator as usual and rather than speak to Dudley, Harry opened the refrigerator the small crack that it would open and thanking his lucky stars that he had skinny arms, managed to get 2 eggs and some bacon out before Dudley leaned back in his chair, closing the refrigerator door and almost shutting Harry's arm in it in the process.

After cooking his breakfast, Harry sat down at the table to eat. Uncle Vernon looked up at him and said, "we are hosting a summer cookout this evening for some friends, including some very influential members of the Drill Crafters Union and, as is customary when we have guests, you are to stay in your room and remain silent. Is that clear?" Harry looked somewhat stunned at Uncle Vernon, although he didn't know why he should be stunned, and said simply, "yes, sir".

Harry finished his breakfast, put away his dishes and decided to take a walk around the block. He went out the kitchen door and into the garden where Gladys the cat was in her favorite spot near Harry's bench surveying her kingdom. He reached down to pet her and said, "Hullo, Gladys. It's my birthday today you know." He hadn't really expected an answer but Gladys meowed and purred and weaved herself between Harry's legs. This made Harry smile and he patted her head once more and started on his walk. Gladys followed. He glanced back to notice her following and decided he was glad to have the company today.

By the time he got back to Privet Drive, the preparations for the cookout were in full swing. A truck with a sign that read "Toby's Tinted Tents" was parked in the driveway and Uncle Vernon was bossing the owners about as they carried what looked like red and white striped miniature circus tents into the back garden. Harry watched the proceedings for a while until a swoosh of wings made him snap his head back in excitement. It was Hedwig and Orsino and Orsino was carrying a package. Harry ran to the front door wanting desperately to get to his room, but he was stopped by one of Uncle Vernon's beefy hands that knocked Harry backwards onto the ground. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry and said, "Owls?! In the middle of the day? Where the neighbors can see? You keep those ruddy owls out of site today boy, or those owls might just find their way to the nearest taxidermist." Harry got up, dusted off his pants, gave a quick nod to Uncle Vernon and then taking two steps at a time, climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

"Hello," he said to the owls in a very happy tone. "Is that for me, Orsino?" Orsino held out his leg in his usual efficient manner and Harry removed the envelope and small square package tied there. The package was wrapped in paper that had hand painted golden snitches all over it. Cho's art. Harry smiled. As was now habit, he smelled the card and grinned. Birthday cake and strawberry ice cream again. He opened the card. More of Cho's art. A second birthday card just as she had promised. This time it was an oil rendering of the Gryffindor Lion. Wow. After admiring the art, he read the inside:

Dear Harry:

I got the date right this time! Happy Birthday to my favorite owl pal. I'll always remember this summer and the great letters we shared.

Love, Cho

P.S. I hope you like the CD I bought you. It's Horowitz. He was the best to ever play the instrument. I can only dream of playing the Fantaisie-Impromptu as well as he did. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I really love classical music.

Huh. For some reason her remark about always remembering the summer didn't feel right. Like it was something they had done and wouldn't do again. He frowned slightly at this and deciding he was worrying about nothing, ripped open the package to find a music CD of Vladimir Horowitz playing Chopin's Fantaisie-Impromptu. Harry raised an eyebrow and thought suspiciously, "ok, hmmm". Harry immediately went over to the closet which was bursting with Dudley's rejected items and dug through the broken Game Boys and remote control cars until he found what he was looking for – a CD player. The plastic cover was cracked and the speakers had been ripped open and the wires removed, but when he plugged it in, it seemed to be otherwise in working order. He dug some more in the closet until he came across an old broken Sony Walkman that luckily still had working headsets attached to it. He plugged them into the CD player and took Cho's CD out of it's case, put it in the CD player, and pushed play.

Harry listened. He tried to like it. "Well, it's different," he thought. "So this was classical piano music. Ok, well, if Cho liked it he guessed he did too. Sure is long and serious." Imagining himself having to have a conversation with Cho about it someday he finished listening to it. He looked at her card again while he listened and then at Orsino and Hedwig who seemed to be quite enjoying the music. He propped Cho's card up in a prominent place and let the music finish, lost in his thoughts of Cho.

His thoughts were interrupted by Uncle Vernon's voice shouting at someone in the front garden. He crossed to the window and stuck his head out to see what the fuss was about. The catering truck had arrived and upon its arrival had been driven right over Aunt Petunia's petunia plants and Uncle Vernon was frantically directing the driver to back up but when the driver did so, he managed to back right into the neighbor's trash bins spilling the trash all over Privet Drive. Harry amusedly watched the scene for awhile and then out of the corner of his eye he saw a very handsome tawny owl flying right toward him, carrying a package. As it approached the house, Uncle Vernon stopped, looked up at Harry and glared at him. Harry popped his head quickly back in the window and directed the owl to hurry up by waving his hands anxiously at it.

Harry recognized Hermione's handwriting on the envelope and removed it as well as a heavy package the shape and weight of which told Harry that it could only be a book. The owl joined Orsino and Hedwig on his desk and Hedwig reluctantly shared her water with the intruder. He opened the birthday card from Hermione and read:

Dear Harry:

Happy Birthday. You don't look a day over 15! Ha. Ha. I've become so silly lately. I have so much to tell you and I'm sorry I've been such a horrible friend and haven't written you this summer.

Well, when I got home from Hogwarts this summer, I had the nicest letter from Viktor Krum. His family was traveling to their summer beach home in Bulgaria on the Black Sea and he asked if I would like to join them for a few weeks. Well, I'd never been to that area of the world before, and the opportunity to study the country was just too wonderful to pass up so I begged mum and dad and they said it was ok as long as Viktor's parents would be there.

So, I met Viktor and his family at the airport and we drove to their home. It is so beautiful there. The mountains are lovely and the seaside village just wonderful. Viktor was the perfect gentlemen and we had a lot of fun together. He took me sailing and snorkeling and we built sandcastles and oh, lots of other things. Anyway, you'll be happy to know that I even have a better understanding of Quidditch now thanks to Viktor and he's promised to get us all box seats any time we'd like them. He even showed me his secret for the perfect Wronski Feint and if you're really really good, I might just tell you the secret.

He's really nice and we took some very special walks on the beach at night. A couple of weeks ago, when the moon was full, we took one of our walks together and I don't know, everything seemed so romantic and we kissed. But please don't tell Ron! Promise, me, ok?

I got back yesterday. I had a wonderful time in Bulgaria with Viktor, but it's good to be home. I missed you and Ron very much.

Well, I hope you have a very Happy Birthday. Let's plan on meeting in Diagon Alley like we always do on the 29^th or 30^th of August, ok?

Love, Hermione

xxoo

Harry smiled at the thought of what Ron would do if he knew that Viktor and Hermione had kissed. Harry knew that that was a secret he would have no trouble keeping, as he didn't want to be in the line of fire of Ron's wand when he found out.

He turned his attention to Hermione's package. He opened it, and it was a book entitled, Edward Potter's Explorations of the Bulgarian Mountains. There was a note attached from Hermione:

Dear Harry,

I couldn't believe it when I saw this book in a wizard bookshop in Bulgaria. Did you know they have their own version of Diagon Alley there? It's ever so interesting. Well, anyway, Viktor actually spotted the book and pointed it out to me. It was written in Bulgarian and of course I couldn't read a word, but the shopkeeper used this wonderful translation spell on the book and now it's all in English. It's such a handy little spell – it works on all books and it's going to really help me in school, don't you think? I'll teach it to you and Ron and then you can read foreign language books too, won't that be great? Anyway, this book is about a man named Edward Potter who explored the native wizarding tribes in the Bulgarian Mountains in the early 1900's. There is a family tree in the back of the book and it mentions several Potters including a Henry Potter, a Yale Potter, a Richard Potter and a James Potter! I thought it was just too much of a coincidence to be another Potter family so I think this book might be about your dad's family! You should check with Professor Dumbledore just to be sure though. Well, Happy Birthday Harry! Hope to see you in Diagon Alley in August. I miss you.

Love, Hermione

"Wow!" gasped Harry. He immediately sat down on the bed to look through the book. This Edward Potter might be his great-grandfather. He thumbed through it hoping to find a picture to see if any of the mysterious Potters had the same untidy black hair but before he could finish looking through it, Harry heard Uncle Vernon's voice booming up the stairs. "BOY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT". Harry shot to attention, tossed the book on the bed and dreading what might be awaiting him, started down the stairs. He didn't have long to think about it. Uncle Vernon was standing at the foot of the stairs, face red with fury and his arm outstretched, pointing to the front door. Harry walked carefully past Uncle Vernon, still not quite understanding what he was so upset about. He turned around to look at Uncle Vernon again, puzzled. Uncle Vernon raised an eyebrow and pointed toward the front door again. Harry opened the door and then, barely suppressing a laugh, saw what the problem was. Errol was stretched out on his back, unconscious on the front step, feet sticking straight up in the air; a parcel tied to his leg. Pigwigeon was sitting on top of Errol's stomach jumping up and down in what seemed to be some sort of effort to revive Errol. Pigwigeon held a single white envelope in his mouth. Harry felt Uncle Vernon come up behind him and before Uncle Vernon could say a word, Harry scooped up Errol, put on a mock apologetic face and turned to Uncle Vernon and said, "sorry, he's very old." Uncle Vernon's eyes widened and his face wore a somewhat crazed expression as if to say, "great, then he can be the first one at the taxidermist ". Harry scooted around Uncle Vernon with Errol in his arms. Pigwigeon, who was always excited when he completed a post, was especially so today, and not being the brightest owl in the forest, circled Uncle Vernon's head 3 times before flying up the stairs after Harry. Uncle Vernon wore an expression of mixed anger, shock and disbelief and Harry quickly encouraged Pigwigeon to come into the room. He shut the door behind them and laid poor Errol on the desk next to the other 3 owls as Pigwigeon hooted happily and buzzed around the room. Harry reminded Pigwigeon that he was supposed to be delivering a letter, and at this, the little owl stopped and let Harry take the letter out of his mouth. Harry got some more water and owl food and set it out for the now growing owl assemblage. Errol seemed to be coming around too and Harry took the package from him and he began to sip water weakly. Orsino and Hedwig didn't seem to notice anything but each other and the Tawny owl that had carried Hermione's present was napping, so Errol was able to recover in peace.

The parcel that Errol brought had a message written across it. "Open me First". While he had an urge to open the letter Pigwigeon brought first just to see what would happen, he didn't and he opened the parcel first to find a box full of gifts from the Weasleys. There was a brand new wizard chess set with the white pieces all shaped like lions and lionesses and the black pieces all shaped like varieties of snakes. There was a whole canister full of homemade fudge, and a fresh pack of exploding snap cards. There was also a box of Fred and George's latest inventions including a couple of ton tongue toffees with a note that said simply, "for Dudley". There was also a letter in a very frilly white envelope with pink writing on it. Harry opened this with much curiosity and his mouth dropped open in amazement at its contents:

Messier and Madame Phillipe dela Cour

Request your presence at the marriage of their daughter

Fleur Monique dela Cour

To

Master William Rand Weasley

August the 5^th

At the home of the Groom to Be

RSVP to Molly Weasley in the usual way

Harry was speechless. Recovering from his shock, he went to open the letter Pigwigeon had carried, hoping it was a letter from Ron. It was.

Dear Harry:

Happy Birthday. Hope the muggles aren't getting you down too much. Can you believe Bill's going to marry Fleur? After they met at the TriWizard Tournament Fleur started sending him owls and then Bill got a transfer from Gringotts so he could be near her and well I guess they really hit if off and now they're getting married. Mum was not happy at all. She and Bill had some major rows about him bringing a Veela into the family and he would say that she was only a quarter Veela and then they wouldn't speak to each other for days and days. But Bill's always been mum's favorite and she can never stay mad at him and in the end she even agreed to have the wedding at the Burrow. Will the muggles let you come? I hope so. We can come get you again if you like. It'll be loads of fun and you can stay the rest of the summer too.

Well, Happy Birthday. Oh! The chess set's from me. Practice up, will you? I'm getting tired of winning every game (ha! not really).

-Ron

P.S. Have you heard from Hermione? I've written her like 5 times and she's not written back. Has she written to you? I want to invite her to the wedding too.

"How about that," Harry said, "Bill and Fleur". And he would dearly love to spend the rest of the summer at the Burrow. But Dumbledore said he had to stay at Privet Drive for his own safety. Huh. Well, Dumbledore wouldn't know if he just went to the Burrow for a couple of weeks would he? I mean, there would be loads of fully qualified wizards at the wedding – he had to be safe there. He wrote back to Ron.

Dear Ron:

I can't believe it! Bill and Fluer. Wow. Well, if anyone's up to handling her it's Bill I guess. I would love to come to the wedding and stay the rest of the summer. Not sure Dumbledore's going to want me to but I say let's go for it. I'll figure out some way to get there and let you know, ok?

Thanks for the chess set! You can be the snakes next time we play, ok? That way the lions can smash the snakes just like always!

-Harry

P.S. Haven't heard from Hermione, no. But I did seem to remember her saying she might go out of town or something this summer. Why don't you try writing her again?

Harry went to Hedwig to tie the letter to Ron to her leg but she would have none of it. She and Orsino seemed to be quite involved in each other at the moment and when Harry tried to grab her leg to force the issue, she nipped at his hand. "Ouch! Hey," he said to her. But she was indignant. Harry and Hedwig were beginning what looked like a very long staring contest when a loud boom followed by a crash sounded in the front yard. Harry decided Ron's letter could wait and he crossed to the window to see what the latest excitement was about. Musicians. Wow. Uncle Vernon was really going all out on this one. The boom and crash turned out to be part of a drum set that an overzealous trumpeter had knocked into. The amusing scene between the trumpeter and the drummer was great entertainment but Harry's observation of this was interrupted by Aunt Petunia who opened his bedroom door, quickly placed a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the floor just inside the doorway, took one disgusted look at all the owls in his room, gave Harry a warning look and then slammed the door as she left. Harry wasn't sure now which scene was more entertaining, the musicians or Aunt Petunia's reaction to the owls. At any rate, Harry picked up the plate with the sandwich on it ("Chunky peanut butter. I hate chunky peanut butter"), put it on the desk for later and decided to enjoy some of Mrs. Weasley's fudge while he watched the party preparations continue out of his bedroom window.

The musicians all managed to finally make it to the back yard, followed by some very odd decorations carried by some very oddly decorated muggles, not to be outdone by an enormous ice sculpture of Grunnings' finest drill. It was getting dark and the activity in the front yard had now completely stopped and was replaced by the calm sounds of a now organized musical group whose sounds now drifted across Privet Drive in a way that Harry thought Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would normally not approve of.

Guests started arriving at 6 O'clock sharp. The smell of the barbecue grill made Harry very hungry and while Mrs. Weasley's fudge was delicious, it was starting to make him a bit sick, so he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, crunchy and all. After eating it rather quickly he realized that Aunt Petunia hadn't brought him anything to drink. "I could really go for a glass of milk," he thought. "I'll just sneak downstairs and get one before too many people show up." So Harry opened the door and went downstairs to the kitchen for some milk. He went quietly into the kitchen, poured himself a large glass of milk and just as quietly started back to his room. He was halfway down the hallway to the kitchen when he heard a very familiar little "hoot hoot". "Pigwidgeon!" He'd left the door to his room open and Pigwidgeon was now heading down the hallway in search of Harry, hooting happily. Uncle Vernon opened the front door to let another guest in and Harry, fortunately one of the best Seekers around, snatched Pigwidgeon from the air and pocketed him as just as Uncle Vernon shot him a warning look to get back to his room. Harry did so with one hand on his glass of milk and the other in his pocket holding firmly to Pigwidgeon who continued to let out hoots, though now very muffled hoots. Harry reached the door to his room, stepped inside and quickly shut the door. He let Pigwidgeon out of his pocket and then quickly turned to take an owl inventory. "One, two, three, four, five. Six?! Seven?!", Harry exclaimed. Two new owls had arrived. The two new owls were brown barn owls and between them they were carrying a large box which unmistakably was addressed by Hagrid. Harry went to take the package from the owls when a loud popping noise sounded behind him. He turned quickly around to see, standing in the middle of his bed, Dobby, holding an enormous, multi-tiered, big as him, birthday cake. "Harry Potter, sir", Dobby said excitedly, "It is an honor, sir, to wish you a very happy birthday, sir". Harry grinned. "Thanks, Dobby," but then quickly added, "but you have to be very quiet Dobby. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are having a party downstairs and Uncle Vernon's already after me about all these owls." Dobby put a long finger to his lips and said, "not a whisper, sir. Dobby not getting Harry Potter in trouble. Harry Potter is a great wizard, sir. Dobby is not wanting to offend Harry Potter by making noise, sir". Harry sighed slightly at him, "alright, alright." And then trying to change the subject a bit, he said, "That's some cake, Dobby. For me?" Dobby beamed and said "Dobby and Winky is making this specially for Harry Potter, sir, for Harry Potter's birthday, sir". Harry beamed back and said, "It looks delicious. Shall we eat some then?" Dobby climbed down from the bed, produced two forks, one from each of his mismatched socks and sat down with Harry on the floor to eat. Dobby and Harry chatted for awhile, eating cake until they both felt very sick at their stomachs. There was still quite a bit of cake left but neither of them felt very much like doing anything about it at the moment and Harry leaned back on his elbows and patted his stomach. Harry sat up suddenly and said, "Hagrid's present. I forgot. Let's open it, shall we Dobby?"

Harry crossed to the side table where the two owls sat with their package. He thanked them politely and sat back down with Dobby to open the box. Harry opened the card attached to the box and read:

Happy Birthday, Harry.

I won this present in a card game fer yeh. Knew yeh must be feelin' kinda low and I thought this might cheer yeh up a bit.

Love, Hagrid

With several years of experience with Hagrid's idea of fun behind him, Harry put a cautious ear to the box and listened for any signs of something living. Satisfied there was nothing alive in the box, and with a prudent look at Dobby, he began untying the string that bound the box. With one last half-uneasy glance at Dobby, he pried open the box lid.

Harry was knocked forcefully backwards as dozens of spectacular fireworks shot around the room, whooping and whistling and banging in every direction. The owls began flying in complete terror all over the room, hooting and screeching with all their might. Dobby covered his large ears and threw himself under the bed, his eyes as big as the plate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich had arrived on. Harry crawled underneath his desk and quickly covered his head as a purple and green whistling rocket grazed the top of his hair on the way out the front window, the explosion closing the window with a SLAM behind it. BANG! A second round of fireworks burst from the box, Hedwig and Orsino dodged them, one flying one way the other flying the other as Pigwidgeon, who was absolutely beside himself, was dashing himself against the bedroom door trying to escape. Dobby scrambled from underneath the bed and ran to the bedroom door and said, "Dobby will help the owls escape harm, Harry Potter". But as Harry crawled out from under his desk and said, "NO, DOBBY!" it was done. The bedroom door was open and the fireworks, all seven owls, Dobby and Harry were out the door and shooting through the house.

Needless to say, the noise had not gone unnoticed by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and as the entourage and the fireworks approached the door to the back garden, Uncle Vernon opened the door and was hit smack in the face by Errol, who fell backwards, unconscious, onto the kitchen floor. Uncle Vernon was then knocked down 3 steps onto the grass by Dobby who was trying his best to make amends for letting the owls loose and was trying to catch them by pointing his finger and using some sort of magic to catch the owls as silver sparks were now shooting from the end of Dobby's finger. Several ear-splitting gold shooting fireworks followed the owls into the tents full of the now stunned and staring guests who were scrambling to hide under the tables as owls swooped under the tables with them to avoid the fireworks, spilling food trays everywhere as they did. Screams could be heard for blocks but none quite as severe as the scream that was being uttered by Aunt Petunia, who was standing face to face with Dobby, who had climbed onto the table that Aunt Petunia was sitting at. She looked positively unable to move. Harry froze on the spot in amazement as he surveyed the scene, eyes wide, mouth open, not knowing exactly what to do first. Dobby, realizing that he had made a very large mistake in using magic in front of the muggles, gave a pitiful, deeply apologetic look at Harry and disapparated. At this, Aunt Petunia fainted. Uncle Vernon arrived just in time to catch her in his arms as she did, but not before giving Harry a look that he had never seen before and most certainly did not want to see again.

The fireworks had burned themselves out and the hope of calm was beginning to return. People began hurriedly crawling out from under the tables, gathering their things and heading panicked and shocked to the front yard where their cars were waiting. Occasionally, one of the owls would swoop by over the heads of the guests, causing a fresh wave of screams. As the scene became quieter, Harry was aware of an odd combination of sounds – a sort of hooting and whimpering that was coming from under a table just to Harry's right. Still frozen to the spot, Harry turned toward the noise, bent down and could not contain a laugh as there, cowering under the table, face to face with Hedwig, was Dudley, sweat dripping from his pudgy forehead. "Hedwig!" Harry said, "leave him alone. It's alright." Harry took a step toward them and Dudley scrambled backwards in absolute terror. Suppressing a smile, Harry coaxed Hedwig out from under the table and she hopped onto his arm. As he stood up and turned around, he was confronted with a very red faced, angry Uncle Vernon who was raising his hand to strike him. Hedwig flew back into the house and Harry flinched, but before Uncle Vernon had a chance to follow through on his physical threat, a very loud sound filled the air and he was forced to use his hands to cover his ears instead. VROOM! VROOM! It was defeaning and was coming from above their heads. Aunt Petunia was coming to and she too covered her ears from the sound. Dudley peeked out from under the table just as another blasting VROOM! VROOM! sounded above their heads. They all looked up and there, through the moonlit clouds was the unmistakable shape of a flying black motorcycle bearing a rider with long flowing black hair.

As the motorcycle came closer to the ground, Harry felt his knees go a bit weak as he realized who the driver was. It was Sirius Black, no doubt come to reprimand him for having dodged his letter writing duties. Of course, given the choice between Uncle Vernon's reprimand and Sirius' reprimand he had to think that Sirius was the better choice and he smiled as the motorcycle came to rest on the ground next to Uncle Vernon. Sirius was wearing a pair of rather tattered looking blue jeans, a dingy t-shirt and a black leather jacket and boots. His face was still thin, but it was a bit fuller and not nearly as pale as the last time Harry had seem him. His hair was long and unkempt, but clean. Sirius swung his leg over the motorcycle, pulled his wand out of his jacket pocket and with a wave of it, the motorcycle disappeared into thin air. Harry had forgotten just how tall Sirius was as he stepped forward to address them. "Hello, Harry," he said with a smile as he raised an eyebrow that told Harry that this was only the beginning of many conversations to come. He then turned to Uncle Vernon and said, "You must be Dursley." His voice was as deep and gruff as ever and Uncle Vernon went pale at hearing it but managed to puff himself up as he always did around people who were taller than himself and said, "yes, and you are?" Sirius smirked at Uncle Vernon knowing full well he knew he was and said, "I am Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. I am here to have a word with my godson. You'll excuse us, of course." Then without waiting for an answer, he put an arm around Harry and led him authoritatively into the house. As he did so he looked around at the chaotic scene with curiosity and remarked to Harry, "wild party, ey?" Harry smiled at him and said, "well, that's a very long story". Sirius returned the smile and said, "well, that's ok, I'm in the mood for some long stories, Harry".

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As they entered the kitchen, Harry saw that Errol was still lying unconscious on the floor. "Errol," Harry gasped. He picked him up and made sure he was still alive (he was) as Sirius gave Harry yet another quizzical look. "He's my friend Ron's family owl and he's had quite a day," Harry explained. Sirius shook his head and gave Harry a look that told Harry that he was about to have to come clean about a lot of things. Harry led him through the house and up the stairs to his bedroom, where they stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Harry took Errol over to Hedwig's cage and was glad to see that she was not awake to admonish him, but rather sound asleep, clearly exhausted from the day. He put Errol in the cage with Hedwig and Errol, after sleepily drinking some water, also tucked his head under his wing and fell asleep.

Harry then turned to Sirius and for the first time ever they both realized that they were physically alone together, free to talk openly and as long as they liked. The first moments of this realization were awkward and silent but after a few minutes, Sirius smiled at Harry and broke the silence saying, "Happy Birthday, Harry." And then looking around at the complete disarray in the room, they laughed out loud together. Then, noticing the somewhat trampled cake in the middle of the floor he continued, "how about some of that birthday cake? I'm starving." Harry, thankful for the break in the awkwardness, quickly picked up his and Dobby's forks, wiped them on his shirt and handed one to Sirius. They sat on the floor, Harry a little speechless at actually having his godfather in the same room with him, eating cake and staring at each other. Finally, Harry relaxed and said, "aren't you taking a huge risk coming here to see me? I'm fine, really." Sirius swallowed a bite of cake and said, "So you said in your last letter. Nice try. But I think not." Harry had played this scene out in his head before and had expected to feel rather angry when this moment finally arrived, but instead of feeling angry, Harry felt a very odd sense of complete relief. Harry sighed slightly and looked up at Sirius with a look that belied the composure of his faux mature exterior and allowed Sirius a true glimpse at his very young age. Sirius gave him a very comforting look and then stretching out on his side said, "tell me what's been going on, Harry." Harry swallowed hard, fighting off an awful feeling of sudden emotions, composed himself and began. "Um, I don't know where to begin, really. I've just kind of have had a lot of stuff to think about, ya know?" "Like feeling guilty about Cedric Diggory's death, for example?", Sirius said. "How did you know that?", asked Harry, surprised. "Harry, how could you feel otherwise? What else?", Sirius encouraged. Harry took a cleansing breath and continued, "well, seeing Voldemort come back to life." Sirius nodded supportively, "go on." Harry obliged, "and having my blood taken from me and the death eaters and the cruciatus curse, and Mad-Eye Moody." Harry looked up at Sirius. Sirius urged him to get it all out. Harry continued, "and seeing my parents," and then pausing added, "and losing them again." Harry closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again and suddenly feeling very self-conscious stopped talking and adopted a more stoic posture. Sensing this, Sirius stood up and began pacing. "Harry," he began, "your father was like a brother to me and I couldn't have loved your mother any more if she had been my own wife. They asked me to do one thing for them. Take care of you if anything should happen to them. It was an honor and a great responsibility. One which I took on gladly out of my love for them." He paused before continuing and looked at his godson, "Because of mistakes I made, your parents are both dead now. I have had to live with that for 14 years. I understand what you are feeling about Cedric. But I have to tell you that harboring that guilt will not bring him back nor allow you to move forward with your own life. There are things in this life that we can never change and it is the strongest among us that survive them to make a difference in the world. You, Harry, are a survivor." With this, Sirius shifted his eyes to Harry's forehead before dropping them again to look into Harry's bright green eyes. Harry stared at Sirius for a moment before blinking and averting his eyes to the floor. Sirius began pacing again and after a moment stopped to look at Harry again and continued, "you've already faced some very difficult times in your life, Harry, and while you may not think so now, these things have made you stronger. Believe me when I tell you that things will get better, and you will get through them." Sirius' face became less solemn and he looked at Harry affectionately and said, "I'm sure I'm not the first person to tell you how much like your father you are. I knew your father probably better than anyone and I loved him dearly, but if there was one great flaw that James had it was that he refused to allow those that loved him help him through difficult times. Most stubborn man I ever knew. He would tell me he was fine just like you when I knew perfectly well that he wasn't." Harry flushed slightly and smiled shyly at this comparison. Sirius continued, "It was a bad trait of his and I'm hoping that you won't follow in his footsteps in this regard." Sirius took a deep breath and looked sternly at Harry before stating, "It is a strength not a weakness to turn to those that love us when we are in need and don't you ever think otherwise, you understand me?" Harry swallowed hard and guiltily and said, "yes, sir". Harry was suddenly washed with the most unusual feeling he had ever had. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he had a father.

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The moment passed and Sirius, feeling the tension in the air, lightened it by encouraging Harry to show him his birthday presents, which Harry was glad to do. Sirius admired the chess set in particular and told Harry all about the many times that he beat James at chess. "James was somewhat famous for saying 'Life's too short for chess', but I personally just think he was just lousy at it," said Sirius. Harry smiled and thought to himself that this must run in the genes as well. He told Sirius all about Hagrid's fireworks and the owl assemblage and they both laughed heartily at it. But when they got to the card from Cho, Harry tried to make light of it, but Sirius knew immediately that there was more to it and probed Harry until he revealed that Cho was definitely not someone he was taking lightly. Harry showed him Cho's picture and then they laughed about the fact that neither he nor Harry cared for classical music and Sirius took the opportunity to hand out some additional fatherly advice on the subject of girls. "Harry, there will be many women in your life who will pull at your heart strings because of their outward beauty. But don't let the ones with the inner beauty pass you by. They're the ones who'll be with you through thick and thin. Of course, there's nothing wrong with trying to find one with both qualities." He winked and laughed and Harry was glad because he was thinking the same thing.

It was getting very late when Sirius became very quiet and sat down on the side of Harry's bed. Harry sat down at his desk chair opposite him and became very quiet himself at Sirius' sudden change of mood. After a moment, Sirius reached inside his jacket pocket and took out a brown envelope and spoke: "I have a birthday present for you, Harry." Harry smiled tentatively. "It has been in my vault at Gringotts for 14 years now. Your father knew that he and your mother were in imminent danger and he wanted to make sure that if anything happened to them that you would someday have this, so he gave it to me for safe keeping." Harry felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "It is the deed to your parent's property in Godrics Hollow. The house that stood there was built by Godric Gryffindor himself many years ago. Voldemort, the last remaining descendent of Salizar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor's mortal enemy, destroyed the house during his attempt to destroy the last remaining descendent of Godric Gryffindor." Sirius stared hard at Harry trying to gauge whether Harry had understood what he had just told him. Harry was repeating the words in his head and casting his eyes around trying to understand. He finally did and raised his eyes to look at Sirius. "Do you mean," Harry started, "that I am the last remaining descendent of Godric Gryffindor?" Sirius nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "And that's why he was trying to kill me?", Harry continued. Sirius nodded again. "And my dad as well?" Harry didn't need the nod this time, but Sirius affirmed what he had said anyway. Harry furrowed his brow in frustration and said, "why didn't anyone tell me this before?" Sirius answered him honestly, "Dumbledore didn't feel that you were ready to know before now, but given what you have been through this past year and what may be coming in the times ahead, we felt that it was time for you to know the truth." Harry pondered this for a moment before Sirius handed him the deed. He took it out of the envelope and examined it. It was very old and bore the seal of the Gryffindor Lion. He carefully folded it and put it back in the envelope and sat staring at it for a few moments. Sirius broke the silence and said, "are you alright?" But changing his father's shared personality trait was easier said than done and he responded by saying, "I'm fine". Sirius smiled, shook his head and said, "just like your father". Harry returned the smile, which was followed almost immediately by a very large yawn. "Time for some sleep, Harry. Mind if I bunk here? Oh! I almost forgot. I have permission from Dumbledore to take you to the Burrow tomorrow for the rest of the summer. Dumbledore said to consider it a birthday present." "What?!" Harry exclaimed. "That's fantastic! I think that has to be the best birthday present of all!" Harry grinned broadly as he put his deed into his nightstand drawer with the photo album of his parents and then took some extra sheets out of the drawer and handed them to Sirius who had conjured an extremely comfortable looking bed to sleep on. Harry got into his own bed, said goodnight to Sirius, removed his glasses and turned off the light. As he lay there, drifting off to sleep, he thought about all that had happened that day and about the enormity of who he now knew himself to be and realized that he had spent the last 14 years of his life feeling like an orphan when really he was a member of one of the most extraordinary wizarding families ever. He smiled at this, looked around at all the cards and presents, took one last look at his godfather, now sleeping soundly, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

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Harry was awakened at 2:30 in the morning, not by a nightmare, but a gentle tapping on his window. Harry got out of bed, stepped around a snoring Sirius and crossed to the window and opened it. Hermes, Percy Weasley's screech owl, was hovering just outside the window with a letter tied to his leg. Harry quietly opened the window to let him in and he flew silently over to the foot of Harry's bed and waited for Harry to take the letter. Harry took the letter off of his leg and Hermes immediately flew out the window and presumably back to the Burrow. Harry took his flashlight out of the drawer, put on his glasses and examined the letter. The letter was in a pink envelope with decidedly feminine handwriting on it. This was definitely not from Percy. Harry opened the envelope and saw that it was from Ginny. There were two pieces of paper in the envelope.

The one on top simply said,

Happy Birthday, Harry. I wrote this poem for you. Love, Ginny.

The second piece of paper was a poem, written in the same lovely feminine handwriting that graced the envelope and letter. Harry looked around to make sure he was the only one awake, settled back onto his pillow and read the poem by flashlight:

"If You Think"

By: Ginny Weasley

If you think you're alone

Think of me

If you think you've no family

Think of mine

If you think you're not brave

I'll remind you you are

For my life you once saved without fear

So here's to the bravest of Gryffindors

You-Know-Who you will always defeat

I'm so glad that I know you

And I hope that one day

You'll think that I'm more than "just Ginny"

"Wow," he whispered, blushing. He didn't quite know what to make of this. He knew of course that Ginny supposedly had a crush on him, but this was different. This was more real somehow. And very sweet, he thought. And very embarrassing as well, he thought, making sure once more that he was the only one awake. He read it once more and he smiled warmly at the surprising insight Ginny showed into his thoughts. "Huh," he exclaimed in a final whisper and then very quietly and carefully opened his trunk, took out his Potions textbook and placed Ginny's poem secretly in the book on page 238.

Harry got back into bed, and tried to force himself to have his flying dream about Cho. But for some reason, thoughts of a sweet red head with a cute nose filled his head instead and he drifted off to sleep again, confused.

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