Chapter Nine: Useful Gifts and Mad Incidents

"Happy Birthday!" someone yelled, waking up a now-startled Harry. He fumbled around for his glasses so he could identify the culprit.

It was Ginny sitting at the foot of his bed. "Good morning," she chirped brightly. "How does it feel to come of age?"

"I'll tell you when I'm awake enough for it to sink in," mumbled Harry, burying himself in his blankets.

"Oh, come off it. It's not everyday you're seventeen," said Ron, who was lounging in a chair in the corner. "Hopefully it'll be more memorable than my birthday," he added thoughtfully.

"Considering you were unconscious for half of your birthday, I think Harry's got a good chance at remembering his," Hermione offered from the arm of said chair.

"Yes, thanks to this method of waking me up." Harry's voice was muffled.

"No choice, mate," Ron said matter-of-factly. "Apparition testing today."

Harry grunted in response. Apparition had completely slipped his mind, mostly due to the fact he was occupied with Ginny once again.

"It's really not that bad," Hermione attempted to reassure him.

"But Hermione, you're a bloody genius! Regular blokes like me can't do it as easily as you," Ron declared, an uneasy expression coming over his face.

"Not helping, Ronald." Hermione glared at him.

"I'm okay with Apparition. I've done it before," Harry said, having resurfaced. Ginny took the opportunity to kiss him.

Ron shuddered. "I'm already taking a test today, so please refrain from sickening me any further."

"I think it's sweet," said Hermione, smiling at Harry and Ginny. "Come on, Ron. I think you could stomach some breakfast."

"But Harry hasn't opened his presents yet," Ron argued.

"Come on," she prodded him.

"All right already," Ron muttered. "Why are you…oh." He finally understood Hermione's hinting.

Hermione pushed him out the door, saying, "I can't believe how dense you are today."

Ginny let out a soft laugh. "I think that was the least-subtle hint Hermione has ever dropped."

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "So…what did you get me?"

"Anxious, are we, Mr. Potter? Thank goodness we're back together, or I'd have sent you some undiluted bubotuber pus as a gift," she said, laughing again.

Harry laughed as well. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope," replied Ginny truthfully. "I got you this"—she pulled a wrapped box from behind her back—"and this." She kissed him for the second time that morning. "Now open it!" she ordered him, pushing it toward him.

"Oh no," Harry said, shaking the box next to his ear. "It's not a 'My Sweetheart' necklace, is it?"

"A what?" Ginny repeated with incredulity.

"Well…don't mention this to Ron, but Lavender gave him one for Christmas last year," Harry uttered secretively.

"Knew it sounded sick and wrong," Ginny said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "And no, it's not that."

"Okay…" Harry tore open the wrapping paper. It was one of Fred and George's day-dream charms. "Cool! Thanks."

"No problem. I figured that, maybe, you could use it while you're away. Then I know you'd be thinking of me," she said, turning slightly pink.

"I don't need a day-dream charm to remember you!" Harry insisted. "I think of you all the time."

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Er…yeah."

They were silent for many excruciating moments, until Harry suggested they go down to breakfast, as Mrs. Weasley was probably waiting for them.

Ginny consented, and as they left, said quietly, "Thanks for that, Harry. It does mean a lot to me."

Harry only smiled in response, leading the way downstairs.

Breakfast was fairly uneventful, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley's deafening cry of delight upon Harry's entering of the kitchen. After everyone else had given Harry his presents, Mr. Weasley brought Harry and Ron to the Ministry of Magic for their tests.

They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and arrived at the Ministry via a specific out-of-order telephone booth near the heart of Muggle London. Harry and Ron both received visitors' badges, each bearing the wearer's name and the encryption 'Apparition Testing.'

Following a wand check at the front desk of the atrium, the three of them were about to file into one of the countless lifts when a rough voice called, "Arthur, wait! I'd like a word with you and the boys."

It was Moody. "Yes, Alastor?" Mr. Weasley turned to greet him.

"Just wanted to say thanks for the old report on those rancid rubbish bins, and to give Potter his birthday gift," he growled.

"No trouble at all," said Mr. Weasley. "Harry, we'll go on ahead, in case there's a line. It's level six, just follow the signs to the Apparition Test Center."

"See you later," Ron gulped, waving shakily as the lift descended.

"Potter, some of the Order"—Moody lowered his voice on this word—"put a bit of money together for you, and they had me choose a present," he informed Harry. He then pulled a brand-new hip flask from one of his pockets.

"There are instructions for checking for poison in the water source you use to fill it inside the actual thing. I know it's not that special," Moody continued, "but it'll come ruddy useful in time."

"Thanks," Harry said, marveling at the odd gift.

"Of course. I figured it would be appropriate given the—uh—circumstances. Tonks and Shacklebolt pitched in, so I'll pass on—"

Moody was interrupted by a piercing siren that echoed throughout the atrium and, Harry imagined, the entire Ministry.

A calm female voice sounded over the siren. "Black alert. Black alert. Black alert. This is not a test. All personnel to atrium. All personnel to atrium. No one may leave the facility. All entrances are being magically sealed…" The woman's message continued repeating as witches and wizards poured into the atrium from the lifts.

"My God," muttered Moody. "An alarm like this hasn't been set off since I was a little thing."

"What does it mean, sir?" Harry asked, despite his feeling of foreboding.

"It means that those of, should we say, higher status in the Ministry believe the Minister of Magic to be dead."