THAT SUMMER, Chapter 8
By Reija Linn
Bill
One week passed like this between us, and it seemed there was no end in sight. Oh, we talked, even about some things beyond 'hullo' and 'bye' and 'pass me the salt, please', but we were no longer close as we had been, and any attempt from my side to talk to Harry was cut short by him. Congratulating myself on my delicacy, I grudgingly accepted that for the time being, things would remain like this.
I got notice from Percy the next week that Mum had fallen back in her healing progress, and that she was now raving about Dad and Ron still being alive. She had, apparently, seen them in her dreams, and had mistaken this for reality.
The week before, I would have spoken to Harry about this, but it seemed we had nothing to say to each other anymore, so I didn't.
Also, Charlie and I were informed by Beauxbaton's head-mistress that Ginny was doing worse, also, and that though she had asked to be allowed to stay at school for the summer holidays, she thought it better if we took her home. We decided, though hesitantly, that we would take her home against her will, and that she was to stay with Charlie in Rumania - he had a large house to his use, which he had rented with some of his friends, and more possibilities to take of her, since he could adjust his working hours however he pleased with his friends - they took turns in taking care of the dragons.
The twins, on the other hand, were doing remarkably well. They were now actually learning some things about handling dragons from Charlie's friends - a fact that Charlie didn't like all too much, in his words 'can't understand how you can let two whirl-winds like that into any proximity of dragons' - but then, the twins were grown, and could basically do whatever they wanted to, which they shamelessly turned to good account.
Harry also received a packet of letters that week, one from Albus Dumbledore, which, as he told me, was to inform him that they were running out of time, and would have to go into action soon. The others were bundled together, one from Sirius Black, his godfather, one from Hermione, his and Ron's friend from school, and a couple of others with names that were unfamiliar to me.
I wondered about this, as writing letters was so difficult in England these days, each letter was checked by at least three bureaus, but Harry did not elaborate on them, though I noticed he seemed touched - I also noticed he only opened Dumbledore's letter, and left the others unopened for the time being. Was this for some special occasion, then? The package was actually labeled 'Don't open before 31st!" - then I remembered that Harry's birthday was somewhere around the end of July.
The 31st was a Friday, but I took the day off from work, though I didn't tell Harry about this. We weren't as close as before, but I was the only one of the people he knew that was here, and I wanted for him to enjoy his birthday at least a little.
So I prepared some things the previous evening, when Harry was gone for his lessons with Azhame, stood up early in the morning, and very quietly as not to wake him, and prepared a birthday breakfast.
Just as I was finished with everything, I heard motion from the main room, and went in to find Harry awake.
"Morning," I greeted him, smiling.
He looked at me dumbfounded. "Aren't you supposed to be at work by now?"
"Thought I'd take a day off. Nothing to do anyway, we just opened a tract yesterday, and the remaining work is mostly evaluation, nothing to do for a curse-breaker. Let's have some breakfast, shall we?"
"Be right along," he said, still a little sleepy, and disappeared into the bathroom, while I disappeared into the kitchen to fry some eggs and sausages.
When Harry stepped into the kitchen minutes later, his eyes widened with child-like wonder, as he took in the table set with breakfast and a large chocolate cake.
"I..." he stammered, obviously unsure of what to make of this.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," I replied, softly, urging him to take a seat.
"But how..."
I grinned. He hadn't been expecting this, and that had been exactly my goal.
"What... what's this?" he asked, as he sat down at the table while I loaded the eggs and sausages onto two plates, pointing at a small parcel on the table.
"What does it look like to you, hm? C'mon, open it." I watched anxiously as he opened the present, hoping that he would understand this was as much a birthday gift as something else. I couldn't help grinning as his eyes widened even more when he had unwrapped the parcel to lay free the parchment case that was inside. It was old and made of rough leather, and the parchment roles inside were made of papyrus paper, covered by tiny writings. It was also written in hieroglyphs, but I knew for a fact that Azhame had taught Harry a deciphering spell which was, in fact, quite easy once you knew how to do it.
"What... I mean thank you..." he stammered, obviously afraid to even touch the book with more than his fingertips.
"It's one of the last remaining volumes of Akasha's writings. I got it from my old teacher who trained me for the curse-breaking business."
"But this is one of the most treasured books of the Dark Arts, and the defense against such that there is."
"Well, then I hope you can bring it to good use, Harry. It was certainly under-used when it was in my possession. At one point, you know all the curses that protect tombs and treasure lots - there really aren't that many. But I couldn't bring myself to sell it, ever, especially since it was a present from my old teacher."
"But... I can't accept this. I mean, it's real valuable and everything, and if it was a present for you..."
"Oh, my teacher would have wanted to see it used. I just didn't want to give it into the hands of someone who would merely look upon it as it's weight in gold, or use the curses contained in a wrong way, because it actually teaches you active cursing, and some of those are real bad, if you don't use them wisely. I trust you will."
"Well then... thank you." I could see he was taken aback by this gift as he carefully placed the rolls of parchment back into their case, and I anxiously wondered whether he took it correctly, after all that had happened between us, but I also couldn't imagine anyone better fitted to give this book to.
"Harry... I hope you can accept this as much as a birthday present, as as a way of apology. I've *been* a bastard, and a bloody one at that. I'm sorry."
I then suddenly found myself with a bunch of Harry in my arms, and shamefully noticed I was actually crying - as was he.
"I'm sorry, too, Bill, I don't know what came over me that night, I was dreaming, and then you said what you said, and I was so hurt, and I thought..."
"Shoo. I know. I shouldn't have said that. I... I don't see you as a substitute for anyone, and I know you don't, either. Let's try and forget it, okay?"
His green eyes beamed at me as we sat down for breakfast, and as we ate, it was almost like before the whole incident again. Something was different, still, something I knew not how to describe, something I did not wish to go into too far, for I knew it was something I wouldn't like knowing about myself, but our old friendship and trust had been restored, finally.
When I told Harry about the letter from Percy I had received, it seemed he paled for a moment, and I was about to hit myself to bringing memories and worries to him on his birthday, until he told me he'd had a dream about Ron, too. He didn't elaborate much, but it was obvious he believed it to have been the spirit of Ron biding him farewell, and as crazy as it sounded, I believed him. After all, most of the things in the wizarding world would sound crazy and superstitious to Muggles, things like magic and flying broomsticks, and ghosts... why shouldn't there be such a thing as spirits?
I also remembered there were Muggles, even, who believed in such things, especially the ones we called "The Awakened", Muggles who could not do our kind of magic themselves, but who could use remnants of magical energy or the energies of their surroundings to do something close to spell-casting or conjuring. Many of them believed in spirits, and had often reported that they had met the spirits of the dead, and though they were excluded from our community as all other Muggles, they were known to sense some things even trained wizards missed, especially since their senses had to be improved to use some magic even though they weren't magical folk.
I decided to tell Charlie about this.
I also decided I would seek out my old teacher, if he was still alive, though I had no idea about his current whereabouts.
By Reija Linn
Bill
One week passed like this between us, and it seemed there was no end in sight. Oh, we talked, even about some things beyond 'hullo' and 'bye' and 'pass me the salt, please', but we were no longer close as we had been, and any attempt from my side to talk to Harry was cut short by him. Congratulating myself on my delicacy, I grudgingly accepted that for the time being, things would remain like this.
I got notice from Percy the next week that Mum had fallen back in her healing progress, and that she was now raving about Dad and Ron still being alive. She had, apparently, seen them in her dreams, and had mistaken this for reality.
The week before, I would have spoken to Harry about this, but it seemed we had nothing to say to each other anymore, so I didn't.
Also, Charlie and I were informed by Beauxbaton's head-mistress that Ginny was doing worse, also, and that though she had asked to be allowed to stay at school for the summer holidays, she thought it better if we took her home. We decided, though hesitantly, that we would take her home against her will, and that she was to stay with Charlie in Rumania - he had a large house to his use, which he had rented with some of his friends, and more possibilities to take of her, since he could adjust his working hours however he pleased with his friends - they took turns in taking care of the dragons.
The twins, on the other hand, were doing remarkably well. They were now actually learning some things about handling dragons from Charlie's friends - a fact that Charlie didn't like all too much, in his words 'can't understand how you can let two whirl-winds like that into any proximity of dragons' - but then, the twins were grown, and could basically do whatever they wanted to, which they shamelessly turned to good account.
Harry also received a packet of letters that week, one from Albus Dumbledore, which, as he told me, was to inform him that they were running out of time, and would have to go into action soon. The others were bundled together, one from Sirius Black, his godfather, one from Hermione, his and Ron's friend from school, and a couple of others with names that were unfamiliar to me.
I wondered about this, as writing letters was so difficult in England these days, each letter was checked by at least three bureaus, but Harry did not elaborate on them, though I noticed he seemed touched - I also noticed he only opened Dumbledore's letter, and left the others unopened for the time being. Was this for some special occasion, then? The package was actually labeled 'Don't open before 31st!" - then I remembered that Harry's birthday was somewhere around the end of July.
The 31st was a Friday, but I took the day off from work, though I didn't tell Harry about this. We weren't as close as before, but I was the only one of the people he knew that was here, and I wanted for him to enjoy his birthday at least a little.
So I prepared some things the previous evening, when Harry was gone for his lessons with Azhame, stood up early in the morning, and very quietly as not to wake him, and prepared a birthday breakfast.
Just as I was finished with everything, I heard motion from the main room, and went in to find Harry awake.
"Morning," I greeted him, smiling.
He looked at me dumbfounded. "Aren't you supposed to be at work by now?"
"Thought I'd take a day off. Nothing to do anyway, we just opened a tract yesterday, and the remaining work is mostly evaluation, nothing to do for a curse-breaker. Let's have some breakfast, shall we?"
"Be right along," he said, still a little sleepy, and disappeared into the bathroom, while I disappeared into the kitchen to fry some eggs and sausages.
When Harry stepped into the kitchen minutes later, his eyes widened with child-like wonder, as he took in the table set with breakfast and a large chocolate cake.
"I..." he stammered, obviously unsure of what to make of this.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," I replied, softly, urging him to take a seat.
"But how..."
I grinned. He hadn't been expecting this, and that had been exactly my goal.
"What... what's this?" he asked, as he sat down at the table while I loaded the eggs and sausages onto two plates, pointing at a small parcel on the table.
"What does it look like to you, hm? C'mon, open it." I watched anxiously as he opened the present, hoping that he would understand this was as much a birthday gift as something else. I couldn't help grinning as his eyes widened even more when he had unwrapped the parcel to lay free the parchment case that was inside. It was old and made of rough leather, and the parchment roles inside were made of papyrus paper, covered by tiny writings. It was also written in hieroglyphs, but I knew for a fact that Azhame had taught Harry a deciphering spell which was, in fact, quite easy once you knew how to do it.
"What... I mean thank you..." he stammered, obviously afraid to even touch the book with more than his fingertips.
"It's one of the last remaining volumes of Akasha's writings. I got it from my old teacher who trained me for the curse-breaking business."
"But this is one of the most treasured books of the Dark Arts, and the defense against such that there is."
"Well, then I hope you can bring it to good use, Harry. It was certainly under-used when it was in my possession. At one point, you know all the curses that protect tombs and treasure lots - there really aren't that many. But I couldn't bring myself to sell it, ever, especially since it was a present from my old teacher."
"But... I can't accept this. I mean, it's real valuable and everything, and if it was a present for you..."
"Oh, my teacher would have wanted to see it used. I just didn't want to give it into the hands of someone who would merely look upon it as it's weight in gold, or use the curses contained in a wrong way, because it actually teaches you active cursing, and some of those are real bad, if you don't use them wisely. I trust you will."
"Well then... thank you." I could see he was taken aback by this gift as he carefully placed the rolls of parchment back into their case, and I anxiously wondered whether he took it correctly, after all that had happened between us, but I also couldn't imagine anyone better fitted to give this book to.
"Harry... I hope you can accept this as much as a birthday present, as as a way of apology. I've *been* a bastard, and a bloody one at that. I'm sorry."
I then suddenly found myself with a bunch of Harry in my arms, and shamefully noticed I was actually crying - as was he.
"I'm sorry, too, Bill, I don't know what came over me that night, I was dreaming, and then you said what you said, and I was so hurt, and I thought..."
"Shoo. I know. I shouldn't have said that. I... I don't see you as a substitute for anyone, and I know you don't, either. Let's try and forget it, okay?"
His green eyes beamed at me as we sat down for breakfast, and as we ate, it was almost like before the whole incident again. Something was different, still, something I knew not how to describe, something I did not wish to go into too far, for I knew it was something I wouldn't like knowing about myself, but our old friendship and trust had been restored, finally.
When I told Harry about the letter from Percy I had received, it seemed he paled for a moment, and I was about to hit myself to bringing memories and worries to him on his birthday, until he told me he'd had a dream about Ron, too. He didn't elaborate much, but it was obvious he believed it to have been the spirit of Ron biding him farewell, and as crazy as it sounded, I believed him. After all, most of the things in the wizarding world would sound crazy and superstitious to Muggles, things like magic and flying broomsticks, and ghosts... why shouldn't there be such a thing as spirits?
I also remembered there were Muggles, even, who believed in such things, especially the ones we called "The Awakened", Muggles who could not do our kind of magic themselves, but who could use remnants of magical energy or the energies of their surroundings to do something close to spell-casting or conjuring. Many of them believed in spirits, and had often reported that they had met the spirits of the dead, and though they were excluded from our community as all other Muggles, they were known to sense some things even trained wizards missed, especially since their senses had to be improved to use some magic even though they weren't magical folk.
I decided to tell Charlie about this.
I also decided I would seek out my old teacher, if he was still alive, though I had no idea about his current whereabouts.