Chapter 31: Happy Birthday Hermione

The Burrow's back garden, though still lit by waning daylight, was dotted with jars gleaming with sparkling magical lights. They'd been placed around the bushes, through the grass, hanging from the eaves, and clustered around poles that held up a banner, rustling slightly in a light breeze, that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE!" – all three "H"s done in swirling writing. A long trestle table had been set up, fitted with enough chairs to seat near a couple dozen people. Those people were scattered through the ground floor of the cosy house and outside, grouped together on the grass enjoying a fine, reasonably warm evening.

Hermione's eyes prickled with warm tears. Since she'd turned eleven, her birthday had been nothing more than a small, short, and quiet acknowledgement held at Hogwarts just as the enormity of what the term's studies held had hit the students. Her twelfth and eighteenth had been the worst. The first had been marked only by the delivery of joyous wishes, by return owl, from her parents, neither able to be with her in a castle magically hidden from them. Her eighteenth had been nothing at all. Ron and Harry hadn't remembered, what with everything else going on, and her parents… hadn't been aware they had a daughter at all, let alone one that had just turned eighteen.

They didn't know this year either, but Mrs Weasley did, and she'd made sure Hermione's birthday was recognised. Hermione doubled back, leaving Harry and Sirius to join Remus, Teddy, and Tonks outside, and found Mrs Weasley in the kitchen.

'Oh, happy birthday dear!' Mrs Weasley said, spotting Hermione, as she retrieved a huge, covered tureen from the fire. She set the tureen on the counter and turned back.

Hermione had a lump in her throat the size of a squash ball. She'd sucked her lips in, trying to find some way to let the kind witch know how touched she was.

'Th-thank you!' voiced at something of a whisper, was all she was able to manage. And it was all that was needed.

Mrs Weasley smiled widely and held out her arms. Hermione folded into them without a second's thought and closed her eyes as Mrs Weasley patted her on the back.

'It's no trouble dear,' Mrs Weasley said. 'No trouble at all.' She pulled back and held Hermione by the shoulders, smiling. 'We haven't been able to give you a good birthday party what with school and everything else.' She shuffled her hands on Hermione's shoulders. 'So, I thought, this year, we'd have a good celebration!'

Hermione was still rubbing at the remnants of tears when she stepped back out into the rear garden. Ron hadn't been in the kitchen, and Mrs Weasley had sent Ginny out with Hermione. They joined Ron, the Lupins, Sirius, and Harry, sitting on the grass.

Harry had taken charge of the baby. Teddy was on his lap, propped up to sit against his knees. Harry raised the hem of his jumper over his head to hide his face.

'Where's Teddy?' he asked. The little baby stared huge-eyed at his hidden godfather. Harry dropped his jumper. 'There he is!'

'I think he's teething,' said Tonks. 'Screams every time we lay him on his back… Molly says it's not abnormal… that maybe it's because it puts more pressure on his head…' She shook her own head, adorned with platinum blonde curls. 'I donno… But he spends half his time screaming…'

Teddy looked fine to Hermione's eyes. Harry had called his attention again, and Teddy watched with a befuddled stare as Harry reappeared, his hair a dishevelled mess, from behind his jumper.

Tonks and Remus, though, didn't look as good. Remus had leant back on his arms and shut his eyes. As long as Hermione had known him, Remus had looked prematurely aged. The same age as Sirius, today he looked older than Arthur – a father of seven. She was sure Remus was more grey on top than brown. Sirius, looking startlingly young in comparison, was watching him concernedly.

Tonks wasn't much better. The blonde curls highlighted her youth, but she looked exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes and she eyed Teddy as though scared he was about to burst, any second, into intractable screams.

Teddy was catching on to Harry's game. He cracked an uncertain gummy grin as Harry reappeared for a third time. The grin appeared again the next time Harry yanked the jumper off his head.

Beyond Harry, Hermione's attention was caught by Neville and Hannah. They were heads together, sitting close, involved in a very deep-looking conversation. The sight gave Hermione's heart a sound pang.

With a second pang, Hermione watched on as Ginny joined in with Harry's game. She had greater exuberance than Harry, and they kept the boy entertained for a few more minutes until a gnome scuttled past Harry on stumpy legs.

'Gerrof!' the gnome shouted, its arms and legs working hard. 'Go'way! Leave me alone!'

Teddy reached a clumsy little hand out toward the gnome, but it wasn't his interest that had the gnome huffing and puffing away, headed for the bushes. One of the chickens from the front garden had escaped its coop for the night. Fred appeared, sneaking up on the chicken, but it didn't seem to notice.

'Piss off!' the gnome shouted, waving its arms at the hen as it closed in, pecking towards the gnome. 'Go screw yerself!'

'Language!' Fred chided, scooping the chicken up in one hand and swiping for the gnome with the other.

'Got quite a vocabulary for a gnome,' Sirius remarked.

Fred pounced, caught the gnome by its foot, gave it a swing, and sent it flying over the fence.

'Thanks!' he said to Sirius, trying to keep a hold on the squirming hen. 'We did try!'

'She's not fer dinner, is she?' a voice, both booming and gentle, asked.

'Hagrid!' Hermione cried, leaping to her feet. The huge wizard's bearded face broke into a wide smile and he closed Hermione into a rib-crushing hug.

'Happy Birthday, Hermione!' Hagrid beamed, pounding Hermione on the back and leaving at least two disks herniated. 'Nineteen! Blimey! An' I remember when yer was Fang's height!'

Hagrid released Hermione as Teddy raised a tremulous whine. Tonks had heaved herself up, ready to snatch the baby from Harry, but Teddy's cries silenced as Hagrid's face lowered into his eyeline, the huge man getting to his knees.

Hagrid lifted the baby into one arm and gave him a rock.

'Ohwww…' Hagrid uttered tenderly. 'Thar's a good boy!' He swept tears from Teddy's cheeks with a tremendously gentle finger. 'Yer don't mind, do you, Nymphadora?'

Tonks had settled back on the grass. She didn't look entirely relaxed. Her gaze was focused on her son, but she shook her head and gave Hagrid a cautious smile.

'Nah,' she said, 'knock yourself out Hagrid. I'm sure he's glad to see a cheery face…'

Hagrid smiled down at the baby.

'He reminds me of you, 'Arry,' Hagrid said. 'You weren't much bigger when I firs' saw yeh. But you fell asleep easily – after a time.' Hagrid bounced Teddy in his arm. He gave Harry a twinkling look. 'I think yer was comforted by the rumble of Sirius's motorbike.'

'Yeah…' said Harry uncertainly. 'I suppose…'

Sirius's face had grown stormy. He picked at the grass, avoiding Hermione's attempts to catch his eye and break him out of whatever new dark spell he'd fallen into.

Hagrid wasn't the last to arrive. Luna came down from her house on the hill by foot. She was carrying with her an enormous bouquet of flowers that she presented to Hermione with a serene smile.

Included in the bouquet was a burst of multicolour chrysanthemums, but they were rather dwarfed by the branches of ripe pears and a few massive crimson and aubergine flowers with mushroom-shaped blossoms of round, wiggly petals. The blossoms reminded Hermione of jellyfish, especially when she took a closer look and saw the petals were moving on their own.

'Erm… thanks, Luna!' Hermione said. 'They're… very colourful.'

'Neville told me you were preparing for the NEWTs on your own,' Luna said, looking pleased. 'I know how much you care about getting good marks. I thought this would help!'

'What is it?' Ron asked when Luna had skipped away to greet Bill and Fleur. He reached out to prod the jellyfish blossoms.

'Ooh…' Hermione uttered warily, pulling the bouquet away. 'I wouldn't do that, Ron.'

'That's an Amazonian Toucan-Eater,' Neville said, fascinated. 'I wonder where she got it?'

Hermione didn't know, but she'd keep the flowers quiet. She had no interest in being implicated in the illegal smuggling of rare plants.

'So…' Ginny was giggling. 'How's it going to help you get good marks?'

'Probably by eating stray Wrackspurts, or something,' Hermione said. 'Though,' she added more fairly, 'maybe all Luna meant was that I could study it for Herbology.'

'They're cut,' Neville observed disappointedly, looking through the glass bottom of the vase. 'They won't live long without their spine… I wonder…' He looked after Luna. 'Maybe she has the full plant?'

Hermione was happy to leave Neville to find the answer to that. One of the Amazonian Toucan-Eaters had just bitten off a whole pear and was sucking on it happily.

'Dinner!' Mrs Weasley called, coming out of the kitchen door balancing several different dishes. 'Fred – George – if you could get the plates and cutlery. Percy and Bill – the roasts are on the countertop – be careful! They're still hot! And, Arthur, dear, the wine? Oh, thank you Harry!'

Harry relieved her of two platters as Mrs Weasley sent Ron and Ginny to get the salads.

Hermione jumped as a plate came flying at her head. It was snatched out of the air for her by Sirius. He placed it on the table before catching two more plates, thrown, Frisbee-like, by one of the twins.

'Fred!'

Mrs Weasley had noticed. Across the table, a grinning Bill caught another two hurtling plates.

'George!' the twin corrected, taking aim with a new plate. Mrs Weasley yanked it out of his hand.

Hermione took her seat to the familiar sound of a twin being chastised. She flinched as a veritable deluge of cutlery cascaded onto the table.

'Love coming home,' Bill chuckled, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

'Eet was much more quiet when I was growing up,' remarked Fleur. ''Ow did you ever concentrate?'

'Selective hearing,' said Bill, treating his wife to a knowing grin.

Fleur scowled at him.

'Mais oui,' she said disdainfully. 'You are very good at zat.' Fleur shared a look with Hermione that made Hermione feel she should be acknowledging some common irritation. Bemused, Hermione found herself pulling a small smile. It seemed to satisfy Fleur.

'So,' said Bill once the clamour of people filling plates had died down, 'what are you thinking of doing once the NEWTs are over?'

He was looking straight at Hermione, so she answered automatically.

'I don't know,' she said honestly. 'I suppose… well, it depends on my exam results, doesn't it?'

Ron snorted, but though Hermione cast him a curious look, he didn't provide an explanation.

'And,' Hermione went on, 'it depends on where the Ministry is at then. I have thought I'd like to be involved in policy-making… but not under Umbridge, of course.'

'Fair enough,' agreed Bill. 'And the rest of you?'

'Well,' said Ron, around a thankfully small mouthful, 'Harry and me thought we'd like to try for Aurors.'

'Not easy,' said Tonks, 'but,' she gave them a smile, 'I'm sure you'll make it!'

'Auror?' said Sirius, and he was looking at Harry, not Ron. 'You don't want to play Quidittich professionally?'

'Not really,' Harry said.

'I just thought,' said Sirius, 'you'd be done with all the fighting.'

Harry didn't have an answer to that. Sirius looked back to his meal. If Hermione wasn't much mistaken, he seemed disappointed by Harry's choice. Hermione couldn't fathom why. It was the course Sirius himself had chosen, after all.

'I'd like to play Quiddich professionally,' Ginny was saying. 'I thought I'd try out for the Holyhead Harpies. I don't think I'd like to stay there, but it'd be my best bet for getting started.'

Neville looked thoughtful when the question was posed to him.

'My gran,' he said, 'says I should do what I'm interested in.' He shrugged. 'But there are very few jobs for what I'm interested in, so I'm not sure.'

'Ar, well,' said Hagrid, 'from my experience, the lot of yeh can do whatever you put yer minds to.' He bounced Teddy on his knee. The baby's hands were lost in Hagrid's beard, but Hagrid didn't seem at all concerned by Teddy's curious tugging at it. 'Whatever it is, Neville,' he said, watching Neville with kind black eyes, 'give it a try, eh?'

Professor McGonagall belched audibly. It caused a shockwave of turning heads, all whipping around to look at her.

The witch made a surprised noise, set down her champagne flute, and put a hand to her chest. Hermione could see Ron's ears turning pink as he tried to hold in his laughter.

'Pardon me!' said Minerva. She gave her chest a pat. 'Students,' she said, looking down the table with clever eyes that looked rather less sharp than usual, 'will occasionally surprise you, taking to careers you'd never have imagined for them. It is not the case for the five of you… though, for a certain Gareth Fairwinkle…'

Minerva was looking the other way, so she didn't spot Fred lean over to top up her champagne. Mr Weasley did notice and he gave his son a stern look before glancing warily to his wife. Fred had chosen his moment well. He was back in his seat, the champagne unattended on the table, before his mother lowered her wine glass. Sat beside Fred, Lee was trying to contain his laughter in a sip of Butterbeer.

Minerva didn't finish the story about Gareth Fairwinkle. She shook her head disappointedly.

'But…' Minerva took a moment to collect her thoughts. 'Then there are students like you two,' she went on, looking, to the best of Hermione's reckoning, at Remus and either Tonks or Sirius. 'While the both of you took directions you were well suited to – and James would have been a superb addition to the Wimbourne Wasps… I did long harbour the notion you'd become brilliant inventors. Of brooms, new potions…' Minerva waved her hand. 'Serenading bidets…'

Remus was sporting a smile, and the difference it made was remarkable. He looked far more alive.

'James did always suggest you were more impressed by our antics than you let on,' he said to Minerva.

'Impressed by your creativity and ingenuity!' Minerva clarified soundly. 'As your head of house, I did wish you'd do more to avoid misdemeanour. It is not easy,' she said, picking up her champagne flute absentmindedly, 'to come up with a detention activity when it is the twelfth time that month one is required!'

'Ah,' Sirius said, and Hermione was glad to see animation back in his face, 'that explains the hours of lines.' He'd sat up straighter, and there was amusement in his features. 'We did,' he said, 'always manage to avoid getting detention before a Quidditch match.'

Minerva raised her champagne flute in salute of him and Sirius chuckled softly.

'It's a good point, though,' said George. 'The Marauder's Map was brilliant! It saved our buttocks more times than I can count. Why didn't you continue making things like that?'

Remus nodded to Sirius.

'It was Sirius who was the creative one,' he said. Sirius frowned at him. Undeterred, Remus went on, 'It was you who had the idea for the Map. It was you who worked out most of the passwords for the school's secrets. And you, I'll add, who came up with the majority of our pranks.'

'Do you still have the Map?' George asked Harry.

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'I do. The castle has looked back to normal for nearly a month now, though it's empty but for the occasional Ministry wizard.'

'Ingenious,' said Fred. 'But, then again,' he looked to Sirius and Remus, 'the Map never did tell us how to get up the girls' dormitory stairs.'

'You never worked out how to get up the girls' stairs?' Sirius asked, startled. When he looked to Harry, he too shook his head. Sirius let out a bark of laughter. 'It's not even complicated!' he said, looking to Remus for support. 'We worked that one out in first year!'

'Well then,' said Harry, 'how do you get up the girls' stairs?'

Sirius shook his head mournfully.

'And you,' he lamented, 'the talented flier!'

'Oh…' said Harry, realisation dawning, and Sirius laughed again.

'Of course,' Ginny said quietly to Hermione, 'if you do get stuck for a career after school, you can always get into song writing…'

Hermione gave her a confused look. She wasn't the only one who'd heard, though. Harry, who appeared in notably good spirits, snorted into his glass of wine.

'It's a one-eyed,' he sang at her, 'one-eared, flying purple people eater!'

'One-horned,' Hermione corrected automatically, then flushed as not only Harry, but Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Sirius, as well, laughed at her.

'I'm curious,' said Ginny. 'Is it a people eater that eats purple people, or is it the people eater that's purple?'

'Well,' said Hermione, straightening her back against an onslaught of renewed sniggers, 'there's a line… Eating purple people and it sure is fine!' she sang. 'So, the former.'

Hermione did crack a smile as the hoots of laughter rose around her. The merriment was infectious. Particularly, Hermione noticed, Sirius's. While his wine glass didn't need the occasional top-ups Ginny's and Harry's took, or the somewhat more frequent ones Remus and Mrs Weasley enjoyed (both appearing like they'd been looking forward to a bit of a break) he seemed to command the table every time he spoke up, and brought a smile to Hermione's face every time he laughed.

Fred, George, and Lee were relentless: how did Sirius and Remus get into the Slytherin common room? How'd they manage to work out how to enter the Room of Requirement? Why couldn't that room be plotted on the Map? And what, they demanded, was the worst thing they'd ever done to the Slytherins?

'Pink hearts,' Sirius chuckled, 'feather boas…'

'Sparkly streamers,' Remus added.

'Red and gold fireworks,' Sirius went on. 'Self-Writing Sparklers, confetti, contact-activating hair dye bombs… and very compelling mistletoe! They were walking around to classes glittering and pink for weeks after!'

Tonks shook her head.

'What is it,' she said, as even her well-mannered husband laughed into his plate, 'with Gryffindors and Slytherins?'

The hilarity had died down a bit by the time Mrs Weasley, not walking entirely steadily, brought out the cake. Tonks and Remus had needed to leave the table to try to put a wailing Teddy to sleep in his travel cot. The table for now laughed-out around her, Hermione blew out nineteen candles in a garden glittering with dozens upon dozens of shimmering bottled lights.

'Mine first,' said Ginny, handing Hermione a present as Mr Weasley took over slicing the cake.

Hermione tore the light blue paper from around the bulky gift. On the top was a skirt: dusky red, swishy, and short.

'You should wear skirts more,' Ginny stated. 'And,' a sly grin stretched her face as she watched Hermione turn over the book that had been under the skirt, 'that's a fun read. I know how much you like books.'

It was a romance novel. About pirates, a magical ship that could fly through the centre of the Earth... and some damsel that would likely be in distress at some point…

'Erm…' Hermione said.

'Just try it,' Ginny insisted. 'You never know – you might even enjoy it!'

Hermione thanked her and hid the embarrassing cover art under the skirt. Ron and Harry had gotten her a set of books that dealt with very specialised advanced theories in Arithmancy (that looked to be mostly targeted toward commercial fishermen looking for an edge, but Hermione would give them a read anyway), Remus and Tonks's present was a beautiful Philippine eagle quill sharpened to a perfect point, Mr and Mrs Weasley's a very pretty set of wrist spangles, and Neville's a thoughtful bundle of self-tidying parchments.

Sirius pushed an incautiously-wrapped parcel toward her along the table.

'Oh!' Hermione said, looking up at him. 'Did you…?'

'Just open it,' Sirius said and lounged back comfortably in his seat.

Hermione tried to hide the flushing of her cheeks and turned her attention to the present. Sirius had obviously wrapped it himself, and something about that observation lit a warm, but somewhat uncomfortable glow in her chest. In her mind's eye Hermione could see his dextrous hands doing it… She pulled away the wrapping paper and looked at the two old and very thick books she propped against the side of the table.

'I found them in the attic,' Sirius said. 'Thought you'd have an interest in them.'

Looking closer, Hermione corrected her initial opinion. One book wasn't that old. On the plain-bound front, its title read Case Listings, Synopses, and Verdicts: Reference Guide 1707-1975; below that were the words Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Being Division. The other book was… absolutely ancient. Its title wasn't in English, but in Runes. The ones on the stiff and cracked leather cover were too faded to read. Hermione carefully opened to the first page, made of very fine and brittle vellum. Magical Obedience and Control of Elfin Servants Hermione read the Runes. Under that was a hand written date.

Hermione's head snapped up and she stared at Sirius.

'431,' she whispered. 'It was published in 431!'

Sirius nodded.

'It'd be one of very few copies,' he said. 'Even when it was made. Now, it may be one of a kind.' He nodded to the book. 'They became pretty obsolete once all house elves were already bound to do wizards' bidding. The information in there is probably completely forgotten in modern times – I doubt people even realise house elves were magically controlled by witches and wizards. The Blacks made their first fortunes creating and selling house elf servants, which, I'm guessing, is why this was encased in a glass box in the attic.'

If Sirius knew what it was, then he could read Runes – absurdly, that was the first thought that washed through Hermione's head. And it fascinated her. Her second thought…

It was a manual, Hermione realised, gently paging through the book. A manual, written by some very long dead hand – or more than one – instructing the magical enslavement of house elves. Excited, Hermione leant right in, making out runes that had partially faded over the centuries. It was divided into two sections. The first was on magically binding a particular house elf to an individual or family, chapters guiding every area of enslavement, from cooking and house repairs to disallowed elfin magic. The second part was on extending the enchantments through house elf lineages, ensuring every generation was bonded permanently to the family by magical bindings: born to do their bidding, as would be their children. And it was something, Hermione was almost certain, today's Wizarding population knew nothing about.

'Written before Rune Standardisation in 562…' Hermione muttered, trying to understand a section. 'The grammar is all over the place… the characters freeform…'

'Yeah,' said Sirius. 'It's not easy to read.'

Hermione pulled herself out of the book and shut it softly. There'd be time to read it later. Translate it so a lasting copy that could be read by everyone existed…

'It's amazing, Sirius,' she breathed. 'It's absolutely priceless! It… should be in a museum! Not just because it's ancient – it's a complete guide to very old, very complex, and forgotten magic!'

'Well,' said Sirius, 'you can give it to a museum later. I figured you'd want to read it first.'

'I do! I – ' Hermione leant over and gave him a hug. It was only brief, Sirius giving her a quick pat on her back. The lingering gaze Hermione had on him after was longer.

'The other one,' Sirius said, 'Is what looks like a complete listing of every case that saw trial for a non-human being up until the mid-70s. I donno where that one came from, but I think it's not something the Ministry publishes with wide distribution.'

Hermione nodded, and gave the first book a second look.

'It's a fantastic reference!' she agreed.

'Good if you want to be involved in policies concerning non-human beings,' Sirius said and Hermione pressed her lips together, very touched he'd paid such attention to her.

Tonks and Remus came out of the house. Very carefully, Tonks set Teddy's cot down against the wall. They'd laid the netting of a one-way noise screen over the top of the cot, but, all the same, Tonks tip-toed away from it, shooting nervous looks over her shoulder.

'Cake!' Tonks exclaimed, seeing the plates being passed out. 'Oh, please! It's the only way I get through the day!'

She took a plate with such exuberance she knocked over a bottle of wine and apologised, trying to help tidy it, all the while she was forking up pieces and munching on them.

'Weell,' said Fleur once Hermione and Sirius had finished recounting what they'd overheard at the Carrows', 'zen eet seems Umbridge ees more aware of us zan I give 'er credit for.'

Fleur was the only one at the table who still had cake on her plate. She was going through it tiny bite by tiny bite.

'You didn't have her for a teacher,' said Harry. 'She'd not stupid – she always had some idea we were up to something, she just tended to catch on too late or jump to the wrong conclusion.'

'It's Yaxley I'm wondering about,' said Sirius. 'What's he up to? He's around, if Carrow's in contact with him, but, as far as we know, he hasn't been seen in the Ministry, or anywhere else. That's not like Yaxley. He likes to be important.'

Bill set down his lager. He'd leant back in his chair to better accommodate a full stomach.

'I have a friend,' he said, then interrupted himself: 'Mind you, this is no more than an idea, and a long shot of one, at that… Brian,' he resumed. 'I met him when I was doing some curse breaking work for Gringotts in the Sterkfontein caves in South Africa. He's a good bloke – my best mate when I was down there – but he's better known for being the only child of a wizard who was a very prominent, and hated, figure during Apartheid. Brian's moving here. He owled me last week asking if I could point him toward any jobs.

'He was in Law Enforcement when I worked with him,' Bill went on. 'So I thought… Well,' Bill shrugged. 'If he took a job in the Hitters' Office, we'd get a bit of inside information. Or… better still… if his father's reputation would endear him to Umbridge… what's the chances he could get a seat on the Wizengamot?'

No one had an answer to that. Hermione did think it sounded like a long shot.

Bill sighed. 'It's not something I've mentioned to him yet. I'll revisit it later with Kingsley, but… I do think Brian would be interested. Course, maybe he's moving up here because he's sick of fighting the reputation that's followed him around, but when I knew him he was pretty determined to try to right his father's wrongs.

'On another point, though,' he said, looking to Hermione, 'Charlie says both Phillip and Petal deny being treated to any sort of experimentation – magical or otherwise.'

It didn't confirm Hermione's suspicion, but it didn't wholly deny it either. For now, though, she just nodded and banished the uncomfortable thought.

For most of the people at the table, a sated lethargy had set in. This was not true for Fred and George. They waited until Fleur set her fork aside, not prepared to finish her cake, before one asked, 'So, who's up for a game of Quidditch? We have enough people to make it seven a side for once, what do you all say?'

Even Ron, who was usually the one who suggested it, had to take a moment to work out whether he had the energy.

'Go on then,' said Bill, game.

'Is that field yours, Molly?' Minerva asked, gesturing to the grassy field beside the orchard.

'Yes,' said Mrs Weasley, 'but it isn't shielded from Muggles.'

'That can be fixed,' mused Minerva.

Mrs Weasley took a swig of her wine. Her eyes zeroed in on the twins.

'No makeshift bludgers!' she warned.

'We don't need makeshift bludgers,' George said brightly. 'We have two bludgers in our flat!'

'Why do you have bludgers?' Percy asked.

'Why wouldn't we have bludgers?' Fred countered. He didn't give Percy a chance to respond. 'We'll need broomsticks – '

'And a snitch!' said Ginny.

'Try Charlie's old room,' suggested Bill. 'He had one floating around.'

'And players,' Fred finished. 'So, who's Seeker?'

'Me,' said Harry.

There was a silence as they waited for another volunteer. Ginny sighed.

'Okay,' she said, 'and me.'

'Great!' said Fred. 'George and me will be Beaters on Ginny's team. Who's on Harry's?'

'Sirius?' George prompted. 'You played Beater for Gryffindor, didn't you?'

Sirius had an elbow up over the top of his chair's backrest. He raised his eyebrows.

'About two decades ago,' he said.

'Excellent!' said George. 'So that's Sirius on Harry's team, and, who else?'

Tonks raised a hand.

'I played Beater for a bit,' she volunteered.

'Ron – dad – Keepers?'

Ron agreed easily. Mr Weasley protested.

'You haven't played Quiddich with us for ages!' Ron complained, and, with Ginny and the twins joining in, Mr Weasley relented.

'That just leaves Chasers,' said George.

'That,' said Minerva, 'would be me.'

George grinned at her.

'I was hoping you'd say that!'

Bill, Fleur, and, after a bit of prodding, Remus joined up.

'It's your birthday, Hermione,' Ginny urged.

'Then the birthday girl!' said Fred. 'You're with the headmaster and Bill on Harry's team.'

'But…' protested Hermione, but other than Sirius, no one was listening. 'I'm terrible at it!' she insisted, looking to him.

'Just stay on your broom,' Sirius advised. 'And if you hate it, you don't have to stick with it.'

He'd be on her team. Hermione sincerely hoped he'd kept his Beater skills. She hated the idea of being hit by a bludger.

'That leaves only one more,' said George. He looked around the table expectantly.

'Oh, all right!' said Mrs Weasley when no one else spoke up. 'I'll do it!'

'Really mum?' Ginny said, surprised.

'Why not?' said Molly, cutting herself an extra, thin slice of cake. 'I can fly!'

The table emptied quickly, people heading off to fetch brooms and equipment or tidying the table. Hermione followed after Ron, Harry, and Ginny.

'If we find a snitch,' said Ginny, leading them up the stairs, 'it'll be used, so we'll have to be honest about who caught it first.'

'I'll be honest about it,' said Harry.

Ginny turned on the landing and gave him a sly smile.

'I might not.'

Charlie's old bedroom was clean and obviously not lived in. It had all the furniture of a bedroom, without any of the stuff people acquired. Ginny led them to the cupboard.

'It'll be in here if he left it,' she said, pulling the doors open and revealing a cluttered stash of boxes. 'Better start somewhere,' Ginny said on a long exhale and started tugging out boxes.

They sorted through them. Hermione found old clothes, an empty blowing gum tin, worn trainers, and a haphazard assortment of school potions equipment.

'Wouldn't Charlie be unhappy we're going through his stuff?' she said uncomfortably, replacing a stack of school notes in their box.

'No,' said Ginny. 'Why would he? He left it here. Someone would go through it – woah!'

Hermione looked up.

'What is it?'

Ginny held up a pair of black leather trousers. They were an interesting fashion choice, but, in Hermione's opinion, didn't really warrant Ginny's look of tightly restrained hilarity.

'I never saw Charlie wearing those…' said Ron.

Giggling hopelessly, Ginny turned the pair of trousers around.

'Backless chaps!' she cried and Ron's eyes grew wide.

The shiny leather trousers were missing a portion. Namely, the seat.

'Why,' giggled Ginny, 'in the world, would he have these?'

'Maybe,' Hermione tried, 'they were for a fancy dress party…'

Harry had less interest in Charlie's incomplete trousers. He called their attention with a noise and held up a Snitch.

'Found it!'

The back garden was refilling with people when they returned to it. George was standing by a shaking box that no doubt held two frustrated bludgers, his broom over his shoulder. He caught the Quaffle Fred chucked at him, and passed it on to Lee. Down on the field below the house Hermione could see Minerva and two others erecting the tall goalposts they'd need for the game. Hermione was passed a spare broom and tried to swing it over her shoulder the way the Quiddich players did, but, feeling silly, resolved to carry it by her side pretty quickly. Even those who weren't interested in playing headed down the hill to the improvised pitch. Remus was carefully toting Teddy's cot with him, Tonks having decided it was better he carry it in case she slipped.

A laughed shout behind Hermione had her twisting around. She was passed, a second later, by two black-haired figures, skidding a little on the slope – racing for its bottom.

Harry's slighter frame was not quite asset enough against Sirius's greater momentum and longer legs. Sirius hit the bottom of the slope a split second before Harry, tossed his broom aside, and ran on. Harry's broom joined Sirius's on the grass and Harry leant into the air resistance, sprinting for all he was worth.

He was gaining on Sirius, and, glancing around, Sirius noticed. He barked a laugh and sped up, arms working with his legs.

Shouts from the party around Hermione took sides. There were yelled encouragements and taunting. It had no bearing on Harry and Sirius's race.

Harry was fast, but Sirius was a well-honed runner, even if his usual practise was done in canine form. He could win easily if he transformed, but Sirius stayed on two legs. Hermione found it didn't make him look any less agile. To her, it looked like energetic racing was something Sirius, even in jeans and boots, was designed for.

They were dashing for the far goalposts. Sirius's stride elongating, he reached them first, and swung around on one of them to grin at Harry as the younger wizard slowed into second place. Sirius threw an arm around Harry's shoulders as they headed back to the rest of the group.

'As… my godfather,' Hermione heard Harry pant, 'you should let me win sometimes.'

Sirius laughed. It was a clearly audible sound of joy that made Hermione smile.

'You wouldn't like that!' Sirius responded. 'Anyway, give it ten years and I'll be old and you'll win every time!'

'Old?' exclaimed Mrs Weasley, not far from Hermione. 'In ten years he won't even be fifty! Fifty is not old!'

Hermione joined her team on the field, standing between Minerva and Bill. Sirius collected a Beater's bat, Summoned his broom, and took his place beside Harry and Tonks. Mr Weasley was last to stand with them. He stretched out his arms in preparation.

'All right!' said Lee, his voice magically amplified. He stood between the two teams. 'On… one team – hang on, what's your team name?'

The team around Hermione exchanged looks.

'The Ferocious Fondlers?' Tonks suggested.

'I do not fondle,' said Minerva. 'The Flying Furies, perhaps.'

'We're the "Ff"'n Fighters!' Sirius called to Lee.

'And you lot?' Lee asked the other team. The Ff'n Fighters' opposition had more red heads. And Fleur. The siblings and Fleur started squabbling among themselves.

'The Discordant Dream Team,' Remus provided wryly and Lee took that as his answer.

'For the first match in the Burrow Cup,' Lee announced, grinning, 'we have the Ff'n Fighters against the Discordant Dream Team!' Neville bent and undid the latch containing the bludgers. 'And the Bludgers are released by our dear – erm… referee? Longbottom!' he shouted as both bludgers rocketed into the sky. Neville gave Lee a shrug. The snitch was next, Neville throwing it into the air after the bludgers. 'The snitch is off –'

A sleepy wail called a halt to the match's proceedings. Everyone looked to Teddy's cot, Tonks and Remus readying to take action. Hagrid shooed them back and Hannah took up rocking the cot gently. There was a protracted moment of stillness, then Teddy quieted.

'Yer all righ'!' Hagrid called to the players. 'He's goin' back to sleep!'

'And with that brief interlude provided by Master Teddy,' announced Lee, 'the match is begun!'

He tossed the Quaffle into the air and all the players around Hermione kicked off. Hermione hadn't even mounted her broom yet. She swung a hasty leg over it and rose shakily, Mrs Weasley taking off, last among her team, across from Hermione. They shared a look, Mrs Weasley seemed to giggle, and then Hermione was high above the ground, looking anywhere but at it.

'On the Ff'n Fighters,' Lee shouted from below them, 'we have McGonagall – never thought I'd say that – Weasley, Granger – or Black? Sorry, never asked! – Weasley, Black – I know that one for sure – Lupin, annnnnd Potter!'

Minerva had already swept forward, dodged Remus, caught the Quaffle, and was heading for the opposite goalposts as Ron was racing to defend them. Tonks swooped past Hermione, Beater's bat held aloft.

'And on the Discordant Dream Team,' Lee called, 'we have Lupin, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley… Weasley and Weasley – blimey, there are a lot of them – aaaaannnnddd… Weasley!'

The pitch around Hermione was alive with turbulent activity. She remembered her role as Chaser and set off after Minerva as the witch hurtled down the field. Minerva swerved to avoid Fleur, looked around, saw Hermione, and threw the Quaffle to her. By some astonishing bit of luck, Hermione managed to catch it. She sat, stunned, on her broom, for a second, then panicked as players, whirling around in the air, headed straight for her and hastily tossed the ball on to Bill.

Bill grabbed it one-handed and sped forwards. Hermione gripped the handle of her broomstick and tried to keep pace with her fellow Chasers as, from below, her voice quite as loud as Lee's, Luna announced, 'Hermione passes the Quaffle on to Bill Weasley… Good thing too, rather scared of it herself, it seems… Though, with her hair like that, she does look quite pretty up there against the sunset...'

Hermione was sure her hair was a mess, the wind having swept enough of it out of her plait that she was temporarily blinded when she saw Bill take aim and pulled to a stop. Though he looked like it was his plan, Bill didn't shoot for the tall gold hoops. He tossed the Quaffle over Remus and Fleur's heads and Minerva, swooping up to catch it, sent the first goal of the match right past the tail of Ron's broom; Ron having only just reached the hoops.

'And it's 1-0 to the Ff'n Fighters!' Lee shouted, not entirely successful at suppressing his laugher. 'Bleedin' hell… I'm glad I didn't miss this!'

Play changed directions, Ron pitching the Quaffle to Remus and taking a determined stance in front of the goal hoops. Hermione's standards for her Quiddich-playing ability were pretty low, so as the game went on she was pleased that she didn't fall off her broom, she'd only dropped the Quaffle two out of the six times it was tossed to her, she'd kept reasonable pace with Bill and Minerva, avoided collisions with two opposing players, and even dodged a Bludger on her own, though the squeal she'd produced careening away from it had caused Luna to compare her to a Blibbering Humdinger.

Hermione wasn't considered a threat by Fred and George, and for this she was grateful. The twins had largely kept the aim for their Bludgers to Minerva, Bill, Mr Weasley, and Harry.

'3-2, to the Ff'n Fighters!' Lee announced when Bill got a goal past Ron.

'Oooh…' uttered Luna. 'I don't think Fleur likes that very much…'

Fleur was shouting at Ron. Ron, pink even in the sunset light, shouted back. Remus towed Fleur away.

'Oh no…' Hermione heard Bill utter as Fleur turned on Remus. 'You don't tell her what to do… it never ends well…'

'… Oh, look!' Luna called. 'A colony of bats!'

It was a large one, flapping out of the orchard toward the pitch.

'Miss Granger!' Minerva shouted and Hermione looked just in time to spot the other team, finished with their squabbling, nearly upon her. Startled, Hermione moved to dodge Fleur and knocked, instead, into Remus's shoulder. She scrambled to stay on her broom and felt the Quaffle under her fingers. She grabbed for it, doing a complete spin in the air, her knees pinched on the handle of her broomstick.

'Go on Hermione!' Bill yelled and Hermione sped onwards, the Quaffle under her arm. She realised she was going the wrong direction and turned around hastily. Her stomach churned and she wobbled on her broom, heart reaching her throat as she saw how far below her the grass was. Remus, Fleur, and, further away, Mrs Weasley, were rounding on her. Hermione didn't want to get trampled by the opposing team. She laid herself low and secure on her broom and shot forward, seeing Ron in the distance.

'Go Hermione!' Neville cried from far below.

Bill flew up beside her. Hermione readied the ball to toss it to him, but, with a loud exclamation, Bill dove out of sight, just managing to avoid a Bludger. Hermione's nerves tingling with adrenaline, she flew on.

A chant of 'Go Hermione!' had started up from the cluster of spectators. Hermione scanned the air frantically for either Bill or Minerva, but neither appeared. Ron and the goalposts were rapidly growing nearer.

Hermione swerved to a stop, gripped the Quaffle in both hands, and shot it at a hoop with what her old PE teacher in primary school had called a "chest pass".

Ron deflected it easily, merely knocking it out of the way with one hand.

'Granger fails!' Lee announced. 'Weasley pats the Quaffle away!'

'That is a pity…' Luna said disappointedly.

Chuckling, Bill came up behind Hermione and slapped her on the back.

'Good try!' he shouted, zooming away as Fleur repossessed the Quaffle.

Ron shrugged and smiled at Hermione. Hermione smiled back. She wasn't upset she hadn't scored. She was just glad she was out of the firing line. She did not find that fun.

Hermione's hearty moment of sporting enthusiasm had left her feeling pretty done with the game. The ceaseless hunt for the ball hadn't ended, however, and Hermione headed back out, again, following Minerva and Bill. It was starting to feel like one of their crossing missions… flying back and forth, back and forth. Hermione was astonished professional chasers could keep this up for an hour, let alone during one of those matches that lasted for more than a day!

Back and forth a few more times… Hermione was lagging more and more behind her fellow chasers.

'And it's Fleur pelting down the pitch,' Lee had given up with surnames, 'the Discordant Dream Team has been one point behind since the start – let's see if they can catch up!'

Hermione slowed to a stop near the side of the field and just watched Mr Weasley shoot forward to defend their hoops.

'They can!' Lee declared. 'So that's 4-4!'

A Bludger, dodged by Fleur, took a turn at the outskirts of the pitch and rocketed back into the game. Hermione recognised the heavy black ball as on course for her only a second before Sirius shot into her eyeline, Beater's bat at the ready.

'All right Hermione?' he called as he swung and sent the Bludger flying straight at Remus, who'd gained possession of the Quaffle. Remus sprang out of its way, but dropped the Quaffle, Bill swooping in to grab it.

'I'm fine!'

Sirius's long hair was madly windswept. He looked very happy, and treated Hermione to a warm grin cut short by Tonks's loud exclamation of 'Shit!'

'What?' he asked, as Tonks went into a hurried dive.

'Dropped my bat!'

Sirius snorted amusedly and took off, turning his broom with his knees before flattening himself to it and hurrying off to cover their players single-handed until Tonks could retrieve her bat.

Hermione re-joined the fray in time for Bill to spot her and chuck her the ball. Hermione fumbled it, and it was snatched up by Remus who came out of nowhere and shot past her. Wearily, Hermione wheeled around to follow and flew smack into Mrs Weasley, who'd been hovering directly behind her.

They grabbed onto each other, hanging on and trying to get their balances back.

'Sorry!' Hermione cried, wobbling badly in the air. 'Sorry – Mrs Weasley!'

They managed to steady themselves and Mrs Weasley tittered, shaking her head.

'It's no matter!' She smiled a little tipsily at Hermione. 'And it's Molly, dear. We're both adults and on the same team – well,' Molly looked around her at the play continuing around them, 'not at the moment! But I think I've had enough. What do you say – how about we give in for the night and let the others get on with it?'

It sounded good to Hermione. Everyone but them was having a great time swooping and dashing about the pitch, completely unconcerned about antics that may cause them to fall off. Hermione was pretty sure her team wouldn't miss her much.

'It always looks more enjoyable,' Molly confided when they were back on solid ground, 'than it is to play.'

Hermione very much agreed. She sat gratefully with the spectators on the grass.

'McGonagall's good, isn't she?' Hannah said, impressed.

It was true, and Hermione could see it better when she wasn't in the midst of the action. Minerva McGonagall, though in her mid-sixties, flew with expert skill and had remarkable aim; she and Bill more than a match for Remus and Fleur, and Ron being tested in a way he hadn't been for over a year. Fred and George were doing what they could to slow the Ff'n Fighter's Chasers, but Tonks was no slouch either, and Sirius…

'Well, he's just good at everything, isn't he?' Hermione commented, partly to herself, and partly to Neville.

'Who?' Neville asked.

Hermione blushed.

'Sirius.'

'Yeah,' Neville said earnestly, nodding. 'He does seem to be.'

Sirius charged after bludgers with reckless abandon and had the skill, aim, and timing to pull it off. Whacking at bludgers seemed to give him great delight too. Hermione watched Sirius hurtle toward a zooming bludger on course to take out Bill. Flat to his broom, Sirius whipped around behind the bludger, raised and took aim before he'd finished his turn, and, grinning happily, smacked at the bludger as though his arm and the bat were no more than extensions of his spin. He watched as Remus hastily dodged the rocketing bludger, lost the quaffle to Minerva in the process, and turned to raise two fingers at Sirius in rather a rude gesture.

Sirius laughed.

'Sore loser, Moony!' he shouted.

Hermione realised she was smiling to herself and promptly stopped. She was glad it was getting dark. There were shouts from the people around her. Hermione looked away from Sirius and spotted Ginny, no more than a streak, making a fast dash for the bottom of the Discordant Dream Team's goalposts. Harry, who'd been circling above play, wasn't far behind her, plummeting for the ground – and dives were his specialty.

Hermione wasn't sure who she was cheering for, but she was cheering with the rest, and cheered further still when it was Harry, not so surprisingly, who came out of the dive, mere feet from the ground, with the snitch held in his fist; Ginny, ever the good sport, laughing and clapping as Harry slipped an arm around her shoulders and they descended the last few feet together.

It was lucky the game had ended when it did, and not just because of the failing light. No sooner had Tonks and Remus landed back on the ground than Teddy decided it was time to wake in what sounded like a foul mood. Tonks hurried for him, but Remus followed more slowly behind, looking like he'd suddenly remembered just how tired he was.

It had been a very happy birthday, Hermione reflected, smiling even in the oppressive silence of her lonely bedroom. She felt very affectionately toward everyone she knew.