Summary: Post-GOF story. Harry gets some birthday surprises, and feathers fly when Hedwig meets Blackie...
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling. Quotes from her books are used without permission.
Author's Notes: Mostly a nice happy part, with just a few hints of trouble to come...(laughs evilly)
* * * * *
No Easy Goodbyes - Part 4
Harry was kneeling on the floor of his new attic bedroom at Gatehouse Cottage, unpacking his trunk. He was enjoying arranging his possessions - it made this room feel as though it belonged to him. His Firebolt was propped in a corner, and his Sneakoscope and his schoolbooks were piled on top of the big wooden chest. He wondered what was in the chest, and the pile of boxes against the wall. Lupin - no, Remus - had hinted that some of the things in there might have belonged to his father and his friends during their Hogwarts days. Harry resolved to ask Remus if he would mind Harry having a look through the boxes later.
Harry had sent Hedwig off after breakfast with a message for Ron, asking him to tell Hermione the news about where Harry was. Mrs. Figg had kept Harry talking for a long time, asking him about school, and lecturing him about stories she had heard about the youth of today. Harry thought that the Mrs. Figg of the magical world had quite a lot in common with the Mrs. Figg he had known in Little Whinging, although he knew that at heart she was on his side.
Halfway through Mrs. Figg's interrogation of Harry, Blackie had got bored and disappeared into the back garden. It had been another twenty minutes before Harry had managed to escape on the excuse of tidying his bedroom, a pursuit of which Mrs. Figg approved.
Harry was just casting another satisfied glance around his attic when there was a most peculiar uproar of noise from the garden. It sounded like hissing, spitting, squawking, screeching - Harry couldn't imagine what it was, but the noise had barely broken out when he heard startled yells, the noise died down a bit and was followed by a bellow from Sirius.
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE!"
Startled - he couldn't imagine why Sirius should be yelling at him in such an Uncle-Vernonish manner - Harry shot down the attic ladder, down the stairs, through the kitchen and out into the back garden, where -
"Oh dear."
Sirius gave him a very exasperated look. " 'Oh dear', he says. Hear that, Remus? I get sliced to ribbons, you get pecked to pieces, and all HE has to say is 'Oh dear'."
Harry, although concerned, just failed to conceal a grin at this. Sirius and Remus were both standing in the middle of the long grass of the back garden. Sirius was clutching Blackie to his chest, and Remus had Hedwig pinned against his shirt. Blackie was still putting up a fight, keeping up a low, furious grumble in her throat, her claws firmly planted in Sirius's skin. Hedwig's amber eyes were wide with indignation, and her feathers were all on end. The grass was sprinkled with white feathers and tufts of black fur.
"Harry," Remus Lupin said in an even but pained voice, "please calm your animals. They don't seem to have taken to each other." He loosened his grip on Hedwig as he spoke, and she took off in a flurry of feathers and injured dignity, swooping across the garden and landing on Harry's shoulder, hooting in a most offended manner.
Harry ran his hand over Hedwig gently, worried that she might have damaged her wings or her legs, but, apart from a few broken and missing feathers she seemed to be uninjured.
Sirius unhooked Blackie's claws from his robes, using a few words to describe the cat which would have shocked Professor McGonagall or Mrs. Figg if they had heard them. Blackie leaped to the ground looking just as furious and offended as Hedwig, and prowled towards Harry.
"Now listen, you two," Harry told them, "if you both want to stay with me, you've got to learn to live together. If there's any more fighting, I'll have to give you back to Mrs. Figg, Blackie, and send you to Ron for the rest of the holidays, Hedwig."
Both creatures gave Harry very dirty looks, but stopped spitting, hissing or screeching at each other.
"You reckon they can follow your reasoning, do you?" said Sirius sceptically, watching Harry stroke both cat and owl in a soothing manner, one with each hand.
"Hedwig usually knows what I want her to do," Harry explained, "and I think Blackie's really clever too." A thought struck him, and he looked around the little garden, overgrown and wild with thick hedges of roses and brambles. "Hedwig must have come back from Ron's - is there a message anywhere?"
"She must have dropped it when she - er - met - your cat," Remus said, looking around.
Harry spotted the battered envelope lying half under a bush, picked it up and opened it. As he expected, the note was from Ron.
"Dear Harry,
So you're at Lupin's? And Snuffles is there too? Excellent! I bet you'll have a lot more fun there than at the Dursleys'. Nothing much happening here - Dad's spending a lot of time meeting people about You-Know-What. Percy's always at work. Fred and George have gone back to their inventing - I think they're working on a trick cauldron, so watch out in Potions next term.
Had a letter from Hermione yesterday, she says she's finished all her holiday homework - what a surprise. Seems like she didn't go to see Krum in Bulgaria after all - maybe her parents wouldn't let her. I've just written to tell her what happened to you. I don't know if Dumbledore will let you come to us now, but maybe we can meet up somewhere. I'd like to see Snuffles and Lupin again.
Keep in touch and let me know what's happening. I'll send your birthday present to Lupin's.
Ron."
Harry read Ron's letter to Sirius and Remus, who both laughed when he read the part about Fred and George's inventions. At the end, though, Sirius looked thoughtful. "I'd forgotten your birthday was so soon, Harry. What is it - " he thought for a moment, " - the day after tomorrow?"
Harry nodded. He had almost forgotten about it himself, with all that had been happening. He would be fifteen in just two more days.
* * * * *
Two days later...
Harry was having a strange and frightening dream, different from any of the bad dreams he had had before. It was not about his parents' death, nor about Cedric's death, this time. In his dream, he was standing on a grassy hilltop. Old grey stones poked up here and there among the grass, but it was not a graveyard. Grey clouds were swirling in the sky, and a heavy mist was coming down until he could hardly see in front of him. Dark figures were appearing in the mist, in front of him, and all around him. He couldn't see their faces. Wand in hand, he was ready to defend himself against them. Yet - strangely - he wasn't as worried about the danger as he might have been, because he knew that on either side of him he had allies. Someone was standing there, ready to help him - but who was it?
When he turned, looking for the face of his ally, there was no one there. Only the grey mist, swirling thicker than ever.
Harry woke, with a strange sense of loss. He reached for his glasses, and his hand met soft fur instead. Blackie was lying comfortably across his chest, as she had done every night since they had arrived at Gatehouse Cottage. Stroking her warm body, hearing her steady purr, Harry felt comforted, and was able to put the strange dream out of his mind. It was just a dream, for a change. There was nothing in it about Voldemort, his scar didn't hurt - it was just a dream, like other people had.
"Harry! Breakfast!"
Harry was starting to get used to the routine of life at Gatehouse Cottage. This was the third morning now that he had got up in the attic bedroom, washed, dressed and gone downstairs to the tiny kitchen for breakfast.
Except that this morning, there was a difference. As he entered the kitchen, there was a massed shout which made him step back in surprise and made Blackie flee from the room, startled.
"Happy Birthday!"
Harry stared in astonishment at the banners and balloons which decorated the kitchen, giving it a very festive air. Breakfast was laid on the table, and Sirius, Remus and Mundungus Fletcher were standing around the table, grinning. Mrs. Figg was busy at the stove, but she had paused to join in the greetings.
"How does it feel to be fifteen?" Sirius asked, giving him a hug.
"Great." Harry was still rather shocked. "I wasn't expecting all this. You shouldn't - "
"Yes, we should," said Sirius cheerfully, motioning Harry towards a chair. "I don't suppose the Dursleys ever made much fuss over your birthdays."
"Er - no, not really," said Harry. That was an understatement, he reflected. He couldn't stop a grin spreading across his face as he sat down.
"Toast, Harry?" Remus asked, passing him a plateful.
Mundungus Fletcher cleared his throat. "Ah - hem - er - be glad if you'd take this - just a little somethin', you know." He passed a small parcel wrapped in rather dirty brown paper across the table to Harry.
"Thanks," said Harry. He tore off the paper, and saw a packet of Liquorice Wands. "Thanks," he repeated, rather embarrassed.
There were three more parcels and a pile of cards in the middle of the table. Remus pushed a flat package across to him. "Don't think I'm trying to encourage you," he said, watching Harry unwrap it, "but it looked quite entertaining. Just don't tell Professor McGonagall I gave it to you."
Harry grinned as the wrapping paper fell away, to reveal a book. It was the latest, updated edition of "Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies)" by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"Great!" Harry said, flicking through the pages. "I'll have to try a few out on Malfoy next term. Thanks, Remus."
"I hope you're not leading that boy into bad ways," Mrs. Figg said severely, looking up from the stove.
Remus looked slightly abashed.
"I've known these two since they were your age, Harry," Mrs. Figg continued, waving her hand towards Sirius and Remus, "and some men never become responsible." Having directed another crushing look at Sirius and Remus, she pulled a small package out of the pocket of her robes. "Happy Birthday, Harry."
Mrs. Figg's present turned out to be a small green velvet collar with a gold name-tag on it. "For Blackie," she said with a sniff and a small smile at Harry.
"Good luck trying to fit a collar on that animal," muttered Sirius, who had still not forgiven Blackie for the scratches she had inflicted on him when he had broken up her fight with Hedwig. "There you go, Harry," he added, handing over his present.
Sirius's present reduced Harry to admiring silence when he had opened it. "Wow," he said finally, turning the golden watch over in his hands. It was an astromomy watch, and had twelve hands and no numbers, but tiny planets were moving around the edge. "Dumbledore's got one of these - and Professor Sinistra - but I never - wow, thanks Sirius!"
"Glad you like it," Sirius said, helping himself to toast.
"So, anythin' planned for the rest of today?" Mundungus Fletcher asked, from the other side of the table, where he was eating enthusiastically, flecks of egg yolk in his beard.
"We thought we'd have a birthday tea this afternoon," said Remus. "Arabella has very kindly offered to make a cake."
Harry wasn't sure that this was good news. He'd had experience of Mrs. Figg's cakes before, and he doubted whether they would have improved just because he now knew she was a witch. Still, he couldn't really complain - this was already the best birthday he'd ever had, simply because he didn't have to spend it at the Dursleys' house.
Harry spent most of the morning in the garden, trying to promote friendship between Blackie and Hedwig. He had found that Blackie was amazingly good at finding things, so he hid some small objects around the garden and encouraged her as she hunted them down. After she had found them all, he fitted her green collar on to her. Surprisingly, Blackie didn't seem to mind wearing it. In fact, she seemed quite vain about it, and Remus swore she was admiring herself in all the shiny surfaces she could find.
Harry was still laughing at Blackie's vanity when two large brown owls arrived in the garden, lugging a heavy parcel between them. They dropped it and made off rather quickly when they saw Blackie eyeing them measuringly. When Harry opened the parcel, he found a birthday card from Hagrid.
"Dear Harry,
Hope you like this. It's from me and Madame Maxime. Might come in handy some time. Can't tell you where I am. You know I'm doing a job for Dumbledore. Take care of yourself though.
Hagrid."
Hagrid and Madame Maxime's present turned out to be a crossbow, like Hagrid's but smaller, and a quiver of arrows to go with it. Harry was delighted with Hagrid's present, since he had always secretly wanted to have a go with Hagrid's own crossbow. He was, however, rather surprised and disappointed that he had not heard anything from Ron or Hermione. He comforted himself with the reflection that he might hear from them later in the day.
Harry spent a happy hour trying out his new crossbow, aiming it at the little unripe apples on the tree at the end of the overgrown garden. The novelty had not worn off yet when Remus came to call him in for tea.
There was a small smile lurking about Remus's mouth as he said, "Leave me a few apples, won't you, Harry? We're all waiting for you."
The reason behind the smile was explained when Harry walked into the kitchen - and stopped dead with astonishment for the second time that day. The table was groaning with cakes and party food, and the kitchen seemed fuller of people than it had at breakfast or lunchtime. Smiling at him from the other side of the table were -
"Surprise!"
"Ron! Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "How did you get here?"
"Nice to see you, too," said Hermione dryly, getting up to give him a hug. "Professor Lupin invited us to your party."
"Happy Birthday," said Ron, grinning. He waved a hand at the laden table. "Mum sent you a box of cakes for tea."
"Looks great," Harry said happily, sitting down and admiring the enormous chocolate birthday cake Mrs. Weasley had made, which was the centrepiece of the table. He wondered what had happened to Mrs. Figg's cake - perhaps Remus had persuaded her it would not be needed. Mrs. Figg was looking a bit sniffy, though, as she poured out the tea. He hoped she hadn't taken offence.
"I never thought you'd be coming here!" Harry told his friends, as everyone settled down to eat. Ron and Hermione had already been introduced to Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher.
"Well, we only got our invitations a couple of days ago," Hermione said. "My parents dropped me off at Ron's house, and then we came here by Floo Powder - Professor Lupin sent us instructions."
"Bet you're glad to be away from those Muggles," said Ron. "Oy!" Blackie had just jumped on to his lap and nipped a tasty piece of ham sandwich from his hand. Having done so, she returned to her post next to Harry's chair, licking her lips smugly.
"Is that cat yours, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry explained how he had come to acquire Blackie.
"Not another cat," Ron moaned half-heartedly, and Hermione poked him in the ribs with her elbow.
"You quite like Crookshanks now," she pointed out. Ron rolled his eyes.
Harry hastened to change the subject, and showed them the golden watch Sirius had given him. Ron quite forgot his grievance as he admired the watch enthusiastically; and it prompted both him and Hermione to dig out their own present for Harry from Hermione's bag. They explained that they had gone halves to buy him a set of replica Chudley Cannons robes. Harry guessed from Ron's expression, though, that he still owed Hermione some of the money for his half of the present.
By the time tea was over, everyone was so full of Mrs. Weasley's cooking that they were almost unable to move. Sirius suggested a walk to work off all the food, but Mrs. Figg said rather pointedly that someone would have to clear up. Remus pacified her by offering to help, and Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to go with Sirius.
"I haven't really seen much of the countryside around here," said Harry, as they went out through the front gate, "except on the night I arrived, and it was dark then."
Sirius pointed down the lane. "Well, that lane leads to the village - eventually. But I suggest we go this way - " He pointed through the trees at the driveway which twisted and disappeared into the undergrowth. "We can get up to the moor then."
They set off, Blackie shadowing Harry so closely that he had to be careful not to tread on her paws if he or she stopped suddenly.
"Phew, I certainly need the exercise," Sirius said, patting his stomach as they walked into the darkness of the tree-lined drive. "Your mother's a fantastic cook, Ron. I'm afraid none of us here can claim to do anything more than basic survival cooking."
"Well, if you send her a glowing letter about her cakes, she'll probably send you food parcels," Ron said with a grin. "She likes feeding people up."
"You managed not to let Mrs. Figg make a birthday cake, then," Harry said to Sirius, falling into step beside him.
Sirius shuddered slightly. "She still scares me. Don't get me wrong - Arabella's the salt of the earth - it's just that - well, she used to be a great friend of my Aunt Florence - truly terrifying lady, my Aunt Florence - and between them they could reduce me to a quivering heap when I was at Hogwarts. I think as far as Arabella's concerned, Remus and I aren't much older or more responsible than you three."
"Sirius," Hermione said from behind them, "where does this drive lead to? I saw the gateposts with the owls on - is there a bigger house further up the drive?"
Harry couldn't see Sirius's face properly in the gloom from the overhanging trees, but there was a pause before he heard his godfather say, "Not any more. There used to be." There was an odd note in his voice.
"Remus told me his family used to live in Gatehouse Cottage when he was at Hogwarts," Harry said carefully, wanting to know the story but not wanting to bring up painful memories for Sirius.
"Yes." They emerged at last from the trees, and paused. The path had led them on a twisting route. Weeds and grass covered the surface of what had once been a gravelled drive. In front of them, the countryside had suddenly opened out. The drive curved upwards, to a plateau where a big house had obviously been. Parts of ruined stone walls, and single tumbled stones, still rose out of the heather, brambles and grass which had moved in to reclaim the site for nature. Butterflies were flitting about the stones, bees hummed, and beyond the ruined house the purple moors rolled away into the distance, a warm blue sky above them. Harry took a deep sniff of the smell of heather, and was more glad than ever that he was not spending the summer in Privet Drive, weeding the Dursleys' suburban garden.
"It's so beautiful here," Hermione said, as she and Ron caught up with Harry and Sirius. "Look at those butterflies."
"This must have been a pretty big house here once," Ron said, bending down to look at a half-buried flight of wide stone steps which must have led up to the front door.
"It was." Sirius met Harry's enquiring glance, and shrugged his thin shoulders. "I suppose I might as well tell you the whole story - it's not really a secret." They made themselves comfortable on some of the flat, mossy stones. The sun was warm on Harry's back, and the buzzing of the bees was soothing. If he hadn't been so interested in listening to Sirius's story, Harry thought he could quite easily drift into a well-fed sleep here.
"This used to be Blackdale House," Sirius began. "Yes - as in Black, my name. My family used to live here. When I was quite small, it was my grandfather's house and I lived in Gatehouse Cottage with my parents. You can imagine that it was a great place to grow up - all this countryside to play in. Anyway, I went to Hogwarts eventually, and met Remus. In our third year, my grandfather died and my father inherited Blackdale House. Remus's family were going through a difficult time then - some of their neighbours had found out about Remus being a werewolf, and they were trying to drive them out of the neighbourhood. My father offered them the chance to rent Gatehouse Cottage. It was great - James and - " Sirius paused, " Peter - used to come in the holidays and we'd spend all day on the moors, talking about what stunts we could pull in the next term at Hogwarts..."
His voice trailed off, and he stared at the distant moors, as though he was seeing something from the past. Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, but stayed quiet. Blackie was playing in the heather, making little dashes back and forth as she tried to catch butterflies.
"It was about six months before your parents died, Harry," Sirius said at last with an effort. "Neither Remus nor I was here at the time. We were in London, working against Voldemort. And - the Death Eaters paid my family a visit. Remus's parents were in the house too. One of the people in the village sent us an owl. We came up from London and - well - we found there wasn't much left."
There was a long silence, while they all gazed around at the ruined house and tried to imagine the horror of that day.
"Gatehouse Cottage escaped damage," Sirius continued flatly. "but neither Remus nor I could face being here for a long time after that. I spent a lot of time in Godric's Hollow, with your parents, Harry. They did their best to make us feel better, but it only seemed like such a short time after that they were both - " He stopped again. "And after that, I was in Azkaban, so it was a long time before I came back here."
Harry couldn't think of anything to say after hearing this story. Looking at Ron and Hermione, he could tell from their faces that they didn't know what to say either. Sirius saved them from trying. He stood up abruptly.
"Anyway, that's all in the past. Come on, let's walk. Sitting here won't help us to work off all those cakes."
They climbed the hill, spectacular views of moors and dales on both sides of them. As they reached the top, Harry looked back at the ruins of Blackdale House. A cloud covered the sun as he did so, casting a sudden dark shadow on the fallen stones. Something about the scene struck a chord in his memory. That dream he had had last night - the grassy hilltop - the tumbled grey stones - was this the place he had dreamed about? If not, it was very like it. There had been mist, though, and dark figures, and he had lost someone -
"Harry!" Ron's shout broke Harry's reverie. "Come on!"
Harry shook himself, told himself not to be silly, and followed Blackie as she led the way to the top of the hill, where the others were waiting for them.
End of Part 4
Please review!
Part 5 should be up in the next 3 days, I hope.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling. Quotes from her books are used without permission.
Author's Notes: Mostly a nice happy part, with just a few hints of trouble to come...(laughs evilly)
* * * * *
No Easy Goodbyes - Part 4
Harry was kneeling on the floor of his new attic bedroom at Gatehouse Cottage, unpacking his trunk. He was enjoying arranging his possessions - it made this room feel as though it belonged to him. His Firebolt was propped in a corner, and his Sneakoscope and his schoolbooks were piled on top of the big wooden chest. He wondered what was in the chest, and the pile of boxes against the wall. Lupin - no, Remus - had hinted that some of the things in there might have belonged to his father and his friends during their Hogwarts days. Harry resolved to ask Remus if he would mind Harry having a look through the boxes later.
Harry had sent Hedwig off after breakfast with a message for Ron, asking him to tell Hermione the news about where Harry was. Mrs. Figg had kept Harry talking for a long time, asking him about school, and lecturing him about stories she had heard about the youth of today. Harry thought that the Mrs. Figg of the magical world had quite a lot in common with the Mrs. Figg he had known in Little Whinging, although he knew that at heart she was on his side.
Halfway through Mrs. Figg's interrogation of Harry, Blackie had got bored and disappeared into the back garden. It had been another twenty minutes before Harry had managed to escape on the excuse of tidying his bedroom, a pursuit of which Mrs. Figg approved.
Harry was just casting another satisfied glance around his attic when there was a most peculiar uproar of noise from the garden. It sounded like hissing, spitting, squawking, screeching - Harry couldn't imagine what it was, but the noise had barely broken out when he heard startled yells, the noise died down a bit and was followed by a bellow from Sirius.
"HARRY! GET DOWN HERE!"
Startled - he couldn't imagine why Sirius should be yelling at him in such an Uncle-Vernonish manner - Harry shot down the attic ladder, down the stairs, through the kitchen and out into the back garden, where -
"Oh dear."
Sirius gave him a very exasperated look. " 'Oh dear', he says. Hear that, Remus? I get sliced to ribbons, you get pecked to pieces, and all HE has to say is 'Oh dear'."
Harry, although concerned, just failed to conceal a grin at this. Sirius and Remus were both standing in the middle of the long grass of the back garden. Sirius was clutching Blackie to his chest, and Remus had Hedwig pinned against his shirt. Blackie was still putting up a fight, keeping up a low, furious grumble in her throat, her claws firmly planted in Sirius's skin. Hedwig's amber eyes were wide with indignation, and her feathers were all on end. The grass was sprinkled with white feathers and tufts of black fur.
"Harry," Remus Lupin said in an even but pained voice, "please calm your animals. They don't seem to have taken to each other." He loosened his grip on Hedwig as he spoke, and she took off in a flurry of feathers and injured dignity, swooping across the garden and landing on Harry's shoulder, hooting in a most offended manner.
Harry ran his hand over Hedwig gently, worried that she might have damaged her wings or her legs, but, apart from a few broken and missing feathers she seemed to be uninjured.
Sirius unhooked Blackie's claws from his robes, using a few words to describe the cat which would have shocked Professor McGonagall or Mrs. Figg if they had heard them. Blackie leaped to the ground looking just as furious and offended as Hedwig, and prowled towards Harry.
"Now listen, you two," Harry told them, "if you both want to stay with me, you've got to learn to live together. If there's any more fighting, I'll have to give you back to Mrs. Figg, Blackie, and send you to Ron for the rest of the holidays, Hedwig."
Both creatures gave Harry very dirty looks, but stopped spitting, hissing or screeching at each other.
"You reckon they can follow your reasoning, do you?" said Sirius sceptically, watching Harry stroke both cat and owl in a soothing manner, one with each hand.
"Hedwig usually knows what I want her to do," Harry explained, "and I think Blackie's really clever too." A thought struck him, and he looked around the little garden, overgrown and wild with thick hedges of roses and brambles. "Hedwig must have come back from Ron's - is there a message anywhere?"
"She must have dropped it when she - er - met - your cat," Remus said, looking around.
Harry spotted the battered envelope lying half under a bush, picked it up and opened it. As he expected, the note was from Ron.
"Dear Harry,
So you're at Lupin's? And Snuffles is there too? Excellent! I bet you'll have a lot more fun there than at the Dursleys'. Nothing much happening here - Dad's spending a lot of time meeting people about You-Know-What. Percy's always at work. Fred and George have gone back to their inventing - I think they're working on a trick cauldron, so watch out in Potions next term.
Had a letter from Hermione yesterday, she says she's finished all her holiday homework - what a surprise. Seems like she didn't go to see Krum in Bulgaria after all - maybe her parents wouldn't let her. I've just written to tell her what happened to you. I don't know if Dumbledore will let you come to us now, but maybe we can meet up somewhere. I'd like to see Snuffles and Lupin again.
Keep in touch and let me know what's happening. I'll send your birthday present to Lupin's.
Ron."
Harry read Ron's letter to Sirius and Remus, who both laughed when he read the part about Fred and George's inventions. At the end, though, Sirius looked thoughtful. "I'd forgotten your birthday was so soon, Harry. What is it - " he thought for a moment, " - the day after tomorrow?"
Harry nodded. He had almost forgotten about it himself, with all that had been happening. He would be fifteen in just two more days.
* * * * *
Two days later...
Harry was having a strange and frightening dream, different from any of the bad dreams he had had before. It was not about his parents' death, nor about Cedric's death, this time. In his dream, he was standing on a grassy hilltop. Old grey stones poked up here and there among the grass, but it was not a graveyard. Grey clouds were swirling in the sky, and a heavy mist was coming down until he could hardly see in front of him. Dark figures were appearing in the mist, in front of him, and all around him. He couldn't see their faces. Wand in hand, he was ready to defend himself against them. Yet - strangely - he wasn't as worried about the danger as he might have been, because he knew that on either side of him he had allies. Someone was standing there, ready to help him - but who was it?
When he turned, looking for the face of his ally, there was no one there. Only the grey mist, swirling thicker than ever.
Harry woke, with a strange sense of loss. He reached for his glasses, and his hand met soft fur instead. Blackie was lying comfortably across his chest, as she had done every night since they had arrived at Gatehouse Cottage. Stroking her warm body, hearing her steady purr, Harry felt comforted, and was able to put the strange dream out of his mind. It was just a dream, for a change. There was nothing in it about Voldemort, his scar didn't hurt - it was just a dream, like other people had.
"Harry! Breakfast!"
Harry was starting to get used to the routine of life at Gatehouse Cottage. This was the third morning now that he had got up in the attic bedroom, washed, dressed and gone downstairs to the tiny kitchen for breakfast.
Except that this morning, there was a difference. As he entered the kitchen, there was a massed shout which made him step back in surprise and made Blackie flee from the room, startled.
"Happy Birthday!"
Harry stared in astonishment at the banners and balloons which decorated the kitchen, giving it a very festive air. Breakfast was laid on the table, and Sirius, Remus and Mundungus Fletcher were standing around the table, grinning. Mrs. Figg was busy at the stove, but she had paused to join in the greetings.
"How does it feel to be fifteen?" Sirius asked, giving him a hug.
"Great." Harry was still rather shocked. "I wasn't expecting all this. You shouldn't - "
"Yes, we should," said Sirius cheerfully, motioning Harry towards a chair. "I don't suppose the Dursleys ever made much fuss over your birthdays."
"Er - no, not really," said Harry. That was an understatement, he reflected. He couldn't stop a grin spreading across his face as he sat down.
"Toast, Harry?" Remus asked, passing him a plateful.
Mundungus Fletcher cleared his throat. "Ah - hem - er - be glad if you'd take this - just a little somethin', you know." He passed a small parcel wrapped in rather dirty brown paper across the table to Harry.
"Thanks," said Harry. He tore off the paper, and saw a packet of Liquorice Wands. "Thanks," he repeated, rather embarrassed.
There were three more parcels and a pile of cards in the middle of the table. Remus pushed a flat package across to him. "Don't think I'm trying to encourage you," he said, watching Harry unwrap it, "but it looked quite entertaining. Just don't tell Professor McGonagall I gave it to you."
Harry grinned as the wrapping paper fell away, to reveal a book. It was the latest, updated edition of "Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies)" by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"Great!" Harry said, flicking through the pages. "I'll have to try a few out on Malfoy next term. Thanks, Remus."
"I hope you're not leading that boy into bad ways," Mrs. Figg said severely, looking up from the stove.
Remus looked slightly abashed.
"I've known these two since they were your age, Harry," Mrs. Figg continued, waving her hand towards Sirius and Remus, "and some men never become responsible." Having directed another crushing look at Sirius and Remus, she pulled a small package out of the pocket of her robes. "Happy Birthday, Harry."
Mrs. Figg's present turned out to be a small green velvet collar with a gold name-tag on it. "For Blackie," she said with a sniff and a small smile at Harry.
"Good luck trying to fit a collar on that animal," muttered Sirius, who had still not forgiven Blackie for the scratches she had inflicted on him when he had broken up her fight with Hedwig. "There you go, Harry," he added, handing over his present.
Sirius's present reduced Harry to admiring silence when he had opened it. "Wow," he said finally, turning the golden watch over in his hands. It was an astromomy watch, and had twelve hands and no numbers, but tiny planets were moving around the edge. "Dumbledore's got one of these - and Professor Sinistra - but I never - wow, thanks Sirius!"
"Glad you like it," Sirius said, helping himself to toast.
"So, anythin' planned for the rest of today?" Mundungus Fletcher asked, from the other side of the table, where he was eating enthusiastically, flecks of egg yolk in his beard.
"We thought we'd have a birthday tea this afternoon," said Remus. "Arabella has very kindly offered to make a cake."
Harry wasn't sure that this was good news. He'd had experience of Mrs. Figg's cakes before, and he doubted whether they would have improved just because he now knew she was a witch. Still, he couldn't really complain - this was already the best birthday he'd ever had, simply because he didn't have to spend it at the Dursleys' house.
Harry spent most of the morning in the garden, trying to promote friendship between Blackie and Hedwig. He had found that Blackie was amazingly good at finding things, so he hid some small objects around the garden and encouraged her as she hunted them down. After she had found them all, he fitted her green collar on to her. Surprisingly, Blackie didn't seem to mind wearing it. In fact, she seemed quite vain about it, and Remus swore she was admiring herself in all the shiny surfaces she could find.
Harry was still laughing at Blackie's vanity when two large brown owls arrived in the garden, lugging a heavy parcel between them. They dropped it and made off rather quickly when they saw Blackie eyeing them measuringly. When Harry opened the parcel, he found a birthday card from Hagrid.
"Dear Harry,
Hope you like this. It's from me and Madame Maxime. Might come in handy some time. Can't tell you where I am. You know I'm doing a job for Dumbledore. Take care of yourself though.
Hagrid."
Hagrid and Madame Maxime's present turned out to be a crossbow, like Hagrid's but smaller, and a quiver of arrows to go with it. Harry was delighted with Hagrid's present, since he had always secretly wanted to have a go with Hagrid's own crossbow. He was, however, rather surprised and disappointed that he had not heard anything from Ron or Hermione. He comforted himself with the reflection that he might hear from them later in the day.
Harry spent a happy hour trying out his new crossbow, aiming it at the little unripe apples on the tree at the end of the overgrown garden. The novelty had not worn off yet when Remus came to call him in for tea.
There was a small smile lurking about Remus's mouth as he said, "Leave me a few apples, won't you, Harry? We're all waiting for you."
The reason behind the smile was explained when Harry walked into the kitchen - and stopped dead with astonishment for the second time that day. The table was groaning with cakes and party food, and the kitchen seemed fuller of people than it had at breakfast or lunchtime. Smiling at him from the other side of the table were -
"Surprise!"
"Ron! Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "How did you get here?"
"Nice to see you, too," said Hermione dryly, getting up to give him a hug. "Professor Lupin invited us to your party."
"Happy Birthday," said Ron, grinning. He waved a hand at the laden table. "Mum sent you a box of cakes for tea."
"Looks great," Harry said happily, sitting down and admiring the enormous chocolate birthday cake Mrs. Weasley had made, which was the centrepiece of the table. He wondered what had happened to Mrs. Figg's cake - perhaps Remus had persuaded her it would not be needed. Mrs. Figg was looking a bit sniffy, though, as she poured out the tea. He hoped she hadn't taken offence.
"I never thought you'd be coming here!" Harry told his friends, as everyone settled down to eat. Ron and Hermione had already been introduced to Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher.
"Well, we only got our invitations a couple of days ago," Hermione said. "My parents dropped me off at Ron's house, and then we came here by Floo Powder - Professor Lupin sent us instructions."
"Bet you're glad to be away from those Muggles," said Ron. "Oy!" Blackie had just jumped on to his lap and nipped a tasty piece of ham sandwich from his hand. Having done so, she returned to her post next to Harry's chair, licking her lips smugly.
"Is that cat yours, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry explained how he had come to acquire Blackie.
"Not another cat," Ron moaned half-heartedly, and Hermione poked him in the ribs with her elbow.
"You quite like Crookshanks now," she pointed out. Ron rolled his eyes.
Harry hastened to change the subject, and showed them the golden watch Sirius had given him. Ron quite forgot his grievance as he admired the watch enthusiastically; and it prompted both him and Hermione to dig out their own present for Harry from Hermione's bag. They explained that they had gone halves to buy him a set of replica Chudley Cannons robes. Harry guessed from Ron's expression, though, that he still owed Hermione some of the money for his half of the present.
By the time tea was over, everyone was so full of Mrs. Weasley's cooking that they were almost unable to move. Sirius suggested a walk to work off all the food, but Mrs. Figg said rather pointedly that someone would have to clear up. Remus pacified her by offering to help, and Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to go with Sirius.
"I haven't really seen much of the countryside around here," said Harry, as they went out through the front gate, "except on the night I arrived, and it was dark then."
Sirius pointed down the lane. "Well, that lane leads to the village - eventually. But I suggest we go this way - " He pointed through the trees at the driveway which twisted and disappeared into the undergrowth. "We can get up to the moor then."
They set off, Blackie shadowing Harry so closely that he had to be careful not to tread on her paws if he or she stopped suddenly.
"Phew, I certainly need the exercise," Sirius said, patting his stomach as they walked into the darkness of the tree-lined drive. "Your mother's a fantastic cook, Ron. I'm afraid none of us here can claim to do anything more than basic survival cooking."
"Well, if you send her a glowing letter about her cakes, she'll probably send you food parcels," Ron said with a grin. "She likes feeding people up."
"You managed not to let Mrs. Figg make a birthday cake, then," Harry said to Sirius, falling into step beside him.
Sirius shuddered slightly. "She still scares me. Don't get me wrong - Arabella's the salt of the earth - it's just that - well, she used to be a great friend of my Aunt Florence - truly terrifying lady, my Aunt Florence - and between them they could reduce me to a quivering heap when I was at Hogwarts. I think as far as Arabella's concerned, Remus and I aren't much older or more responsible than you three."
"Sirius," Hermione said from behind them, "where does this drive lead to? I saw the gateposts with the owls on - is there a bigger house further up the drive?"
Harry couldn't see Sirius's face properly in the gloom from the overhanging trees, but there was a pause before he heard his godfather say, "Not any more. There used to be." There was an odd note in his voice.
"Remus told me his family used to live in Gatehouse Cottage when he was at Hogwarts," Harry said carefully, wanting to know the story but not wanting to bring up painful memories for Sirius.
"Yes." They emerged at last from the trees, and paused. The path had led them on a twisting route. Weeds and grass covered the surface of what had once been a gravelled drive. In front of them, the countryside had suddenly opened out. The drive curved upwards, to a plateau where a big house had obviously been. Parts of ruined stone walls, and single tumbled stones, still rose out of the heather, brambles and grass which had moved in to reclaim the site for nature. Butterflies were flitting about the stones, bees hummed, and beyond the ruined house the purple moors rolled away into the distance, a warm blue sky above them. Harry took a deep sniff of the smell of heather, and was more glad than ever that he was not spending the summer in Privet Drive, weeding the Dursleys' suburban garden.
"It's so beautiful here," Hermione said, as she and Ron caught up with Harry and Sirius. "Look at those butterflies."
"This must have been a pretty big house here once," Ron said, bending down to look at a half-buried flight of wide stone steps which must have led up to the front door.
"It was." Sirius met Harry's enquiring glance, and shrugged his thin shoulders. "I suppose I might as well tell you the whole story - it's not really a secret." They made themselves comfortable on some of the flat, mossy stones. The sun was warm on Harry's back, and the buzzing of the bees was soothing. If he hadn't been so interested in listening to Sirius's story, Harry thought he could quite easily drift into a well-fed sleep here.
"This used to be Blackdale House," Sirius began. "Yes - as in Black, my name. My family used to live here. When I was quite small, it was my grandfather's house and I lived in Gatehouse Cottage with my parents. You can imagine that it was a great place to grow up - all this countryside to play in. Anyway, I went to Hogwarts eventually, and met Remus. In our third year, my grandfather died and my father inherited Blackdale House. Remus's family were going through a difficult time then - some of their neighbours had found out about Remus being a werewolf, and they were trying to drive them out of the neighbourhood. My father offered them the chance to rent Gatehouse Cottage. It was great - James and - " Sirius paused, " Peter - used to come in the holidays and we'd spend all day on the moors, talking about what stunts we could pull in the next term at Hogwarts..."
His voice trailed off, and he stared at the distant moors, as though he was seeing something from the past. Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, but stayed quiet. Blackie was playing in the heather, making little dashes back and forth as she tried to catch butterflies.
"It was about six months before your parents died, Harry," Sirius said at last with an effort. "Neither Remus nor I was here at the time. We were in London, working against Voldemort. And - the Death Eaters paid my family a visit. Remus's parents were in the house too. One of the people in the village sent us an owl. We came up from London and - well - we found there wasn't much left."
There was a long silence, while they all gazed around at the ruined house and tried to imagine the horror of that day.
"Gatehouse Cottage escaped damage," Sirius continued flatly. "but neither Remus nor I could face being here for a long time after that. I spent a lot of time in Godric's Hollow, with your parents, Harry. They did their best to make us feel better, but it only seemed like such a short time after that they were both - " He stopped again. "And after that, I was in Azkaban, so it was a long time before I came back here."
Harry couldn't think of anything to say after hearing this story. Looking at Ron and Hermione, he could tell from their faces that they didn't know what to say either. Sirius saved them from trying. He stood up abruptly.
"Anyway, that's all in the past. Come on, let's walk. Sitting here won't help us to work off all those cakes."
They climbed the hill, spectacular views of moors and dales on both sides of them. As they reached the top, Harry looked back at the ruins of Blackdale House. A cloud covered the sun as he did so, casting a sudden dark shadow on the fallen stones. Something about the scene struck a chord in his memory. That dream he had had last night - the grassy hilltop - the tumbled grey stones - was this the place he had dreamed about? If not, it was very like it. There had been mist, though, and dark figures, and he had lost someone -
"Harry!" Ron's shout broke Harry's reverie. "Come on!"
Harry shook himself, told himself not to be silly, and followed Blackie as she led the way to the top of the hill, where the others were waiting for them.
End of Part 4
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Part 5 should be up in the next 3 days, I hope.