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Chapter Three: The Party
Dudley Dursley didn't so much as
look at his cousin over the next week. Which was quite fine with Harry! And the
fact that the Dursley's were so busy getting things together for their holiday
meant even less interaction with them. They were going to be leaving one day
before Harry's fifteenth birthday-and he could think of no better present.
The morning of their departure, none of the Dursley's acknowledged him,
put their luggage into their car silently-didn't even
demand him to help
out. It was only Uncle Vernon who came back into the living room for his coat
that glared at him.
"Remember what I told you. The Banbury's are going to be
watching
you. And you'd best believe me, if we come home and hear that anything
funny has been going on, or see anything funny-you'll wish you'd never
been born. I'll promise you that much!"
He turned, slammed the door shut behind him, and Harry watched through
the curtains as their car drover angrily away, out of Privet Drive.
Harry sat for a moment in silence. And then . . .
"
Yaaaaa-hoooooooooo!" Harry shouted and jumped up onto the sofa,
like a little kid, bouncing up and down in glee. He let himself plop down on the
sofa and laughed to himself-giddy with excitement. Without the Dursley's in the
house, the place managed to even feel like home!
He saw the television remote control and flipped it on, happily clicking
through the channels when suddenly a figure appeared directly in front of it.
"
Aahh!" Harry screamed and threw the remote control out of this
hands and covered his eyes.
A voice was laughing in front of him and he peered between his fingers to
see-
"
Imelda!"
She wasn't dressed in her muggle clothes, but robes of deep burgundy. Her
smile was glowing.
"All right, Harry? Living the good life already?"
"Y-yes! J-just watching a bit of telly."
"Ah yes. My
personal favorite amongst muggle inventions. And I
didn't meant to scare you, dear. I was just on my way to work when I remembered
something: I meant to tell you earlier that Arthur says hello! And I'm most
disappointed that I had to hear from
him your birthday is tomorrow!"
Harry smiled-it warmed him inside to know that Mr. Weasley remembered his
birthday.
"Oh, yes."
"Fifteen, is it? Well, what are you going to do about it?"
"Do about it? What do you mean--"
"Well you
are having a party, aren't you?"
Harry blinked. "A party? Me? Well, I've never actually . . . had one
before."
Imelda looked horrified. "You'll be
fifteen and you've never had a
birthday party! Oh no, no, that won't do at all! We'll have to do something
about that!"
Harry shook his head, "But the Dursely's-- can't have a party! What if
something happens? They'll kill me…"
Imelda snorted. "I'd bloody like to see them try! No matter, no matter,
you'll come by our house. Tomorrow evening-five o clock should do it, right?"
Harry shrugged-he certainly had nothing else to do! She winked at him, an
odd green mist surrounded her and when Harry blinked again, she'd disappeared.
He had never, in his entire life, expected to have a birthday party. He'd
only just started receiving gifts, so the idea of a party seemed unfathomable!
And yet he spent the remaining of the day, and a good portion of the next,
jumping with excitement. Not wanting to arrive empty handed, he decided to make
something for the occasion, and went into the kitchen, snooping through
Petunia's cupboards, looking for something he might be able to make.
A cake perhaps? He hadn't a clue as to how to bake anything . . . he
pulled out a recipe book of Petunia's and flipped through the cards. . . he
did have a particular fondness of Chocolate cake.
Three hours, an entire carton of eggs, and one gallon of milk later he
had . . . something that somewhat resembled a cake . . . lopsided and misshapen,
but a cake nonetheless. He grinned with pride as he smothered it with chocolate
icing, happily ignoring the fact that doing so made it look all the more
unappetizing.
He cleaned up the kitchen, took a shower, tidied himself up to look as
close to being presentable as he could, and walked across the lawn to number
three Privet drive, Chocolate cake in hand, and rang the buzzer and precisely
5pm.
"
Happy Birthday Harry!"
"RON!"
Harry nearly dropped the chocolate cake he was holding at the sight of
Ron in the doorway.
Ron pulled him inside and closed the door behind him, beaming boldly at
his dear friend. Harry was sure it was a dream! Ron right in front of him!
"What are you
doing here!"
He laughed, giving Harry a hug. "My Dad! Told me that a witch moved in
next door and that she was throwing a birthday party for you! She said that we
had to come!"
"We?"
"Yeah!" Ron laughed, pulling him into the living room. Harry's heart
leapt.
Beneath an enchanted banner hanging in midair reading H a p p y B i r t h d a y, H a r r
y was the rest of the Weasleys: Fred, George and Ginny. Hermione
was standing next to none other than Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. Oliver
Wood, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were all there as well, standing next to a
pile of odd shaped presents. Harry was very close to having his knees give out
from under him! He'd never been so completely
surprised in his life!
Imelda was loving his reaction and she walked up beside him giving him a
hug, Roger and Sophie following her lead. Imelda gasped, "Oh and you've baked a
cake too! What a fine host you are! I do hope that we've rounded everyone up all
right!"
"How did you
know?"
"Oh Ronald here--he took care of inviting everyone!"
Ron blushed as Harry smiled at him warmly. Hermione threw her arms around
Harry first, soon joined by the rest of his Gryffindor friends.
"Hermione! Fred! George! Ginny!"
They all looked fantastic! Fred and George had always towered over Harry,
but he was shocked to find that this time they didn't seem so very tall after
all-- it appeared that he must have been catching up to them! Ginny looked older
as well with her long red hair and pretty blue dress that seemed to match the
very color of her eyes. That blush to her cheeks, however, it was
still
most definitely there. And Hermione! Once again, she was bronzed from the sun,
dressed in muggle clothing of slick black trousers and a black crew tee.
She pretended to scold him. "I hope you know that I left from a holiday
in Italy to come here for you!"
"Wow-"
"Oh, don't worry. This is infinitely more fun already!"
"And Oliver! How did you know?"
Oliver Wood, who had just graduated from Hogwarts, shook Harry's hand.
"Fred and George, of course! I ran into them just yesterday at-"
Fred elbowed Oliver in the side and Oliver at once cleared his throat.
"Er. . . I ran into them and they mentioned it to me, so here I am!"
Harry was keenly interested as to just
where Oliver had met them,
but was cut off by Imelda.
"Now wait a minute, that's one, two, three. . . seven . . . oh but we're
missing someone aren't we?"
"Are we?" Roger asked, looking down at a guest list.
"Yes! Where is--"
At that moment there was a large bang and a funny blue-ish green smoke
came out of the fireplace. Roger didn't seem at all surprised by this, no doubt
used to the wizarding ways, and went to the fireplace to greet the newcomer.
Out stepped someone Harry hadn't seen for two years.
"
Professor Lupin!"
Remus Lupin stood, dusting off his robes, grinning upon the sight of
Harry.
"Remus," said Imelda, shaking his hand. "So glad you could make it!"
He nodded, shook hands with Roger and then went directly to Harry. Harry
didn't wait for him-he threw his arms around him, hardly believing his eyes.
"Professor! I can't believe you're here--"
"Ah, tut tut, Harry. It's Remus, if you please. My teaching days have
long been over."
There was a murmur amongst the guests, everyone just as surprised as
Harry to see Remus Lupin again. After all, at one time he'd been their favorite
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"I'm just so
happy to see you."
"And you, Harry, and you! My, but you're growing up! Thought you were
James when I stepped out of that fireplace." He bent down and whispered, "Sirius
wanted to come along-but he couldn't. I'm sort of his stand-in."
Still in shock, Harry turned to Imelda. "
How--"
"I won't pretend that it was easy," she said jovially, "do you have any
idea how difficult it was for me to add my fireplace to the floo network? Mr.
Fudge failed to mention that my house being next door to yours exempted my
chimney from the floo network! It took a great deal of bribing to get it added
by the end of the day!"
"I can't. . . oh Imelda, I--"
"Okay, okay, okay,
enough of this mushy nonsense," Imelda barked
suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Let's all eat!"
She clapped her hands together and suddenly the living room was covered
with trays of chocolates, sweets, pastries, and other goodies. He was rather
embarrassed by all the fuss and whenever anyone spoke with him, he made sure
that the conversation was focused on them-talking about himself was something he
was never good at, nor fond of.
He was especially keen on getting to the bottom of what Fred and George
had been up to and spoke with them the longest, trying to lure them into
revealing their secret. But they knew what he was up to and remained
tight-lipped on the matter.
Remus, who'd been standing off in the back with Imelda and Roger most of
the evening, kept staring at Harry for the majority of the evening. Finally,
when there was a lull in Harry's conversation, Remus put his arm about Harry and
walked him out into the Banbury's backyard.
The two could hear the laughs and loud chatter from inside, even with the
door closed behind them. The night was a temperate one, though there was very
little moonlight. Despite himself, Harry was relieved of this- he didn't have to
worry about Remus suddenly changing on him.
"I've. . . heard all about it, Harry. About everything."
Harry's smile faded, immediately knowing what Remus was referring to. He
put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Sirius came to my house in the middle of the
night and I knew, by the look in his eye, that something had happened. But what
he told me-even I couldn't believe at first. And all I could think of was you,
Harry. Sirius was fiercely proud of you when he told me about it-and I am as
well. I can't think of very many wizards
my age even, who've had years of
training against the dark arts, who could have done what you did. You've shown
yourself to be a great wizard, Harry . . ."
Harry didn't want to hear this. He shook his head, the vision of Cedric
coming back to him. "Right. Some great wizard I am. I couldn't even save Cedric.
. ." his voice broke off.
Remus' eyes were intent on him. "You know that wasn't your fault. You
didn't know that was going to happen. And even if you did, there was nothing
that you could have done- "
"I could have tried. . . you didn't see what I did, Remus. Cedric lying
there helpless. . . he was my friend. And I couldn't do anything to help him. .
."
"You've done more than you know, Harry! At first Sirius, Albus and myself
all thought that Voldemort would start immediately on his quest. . . and for two
months now we haven't heard a thing from him. The fact that you escaped from him
must have shaken him-he's laying low. Of course, we can only guess as to what
he's planning and we're working tirelessly to find out what it is before he does
it. But the point is, you're alive-once again Voldemort's weaknesses have been
exposed! He obviously
isn't as all-powerful as he would like to believe.
. . Sirius and I
both agree that he's
scared. . ."
Harry cackled. "
Lord Voldemort is scared of a
fifteen year
old boy--"
"A fifteen year old boy who nearly saw to his destruction at the age of
one, who thwarted his attempts at gaining power at the age of eleven, and who
survived his Kerdava curse at age fourteen." Remus' lips were thin and solemn.
"He's
angry, no doubt. But scared just the same."
Harry turned away, not wanting to listen to it anymore. He closed his
eyes and shook his head.
"None of that matters to me, Remus. . . what I'm concerned with is. . .
my friends. Cedric died
because of me. It was
my fault. And now
with Voldemort back in power again . . . who knows what he could try to my other
friends. . ." his eyes were welling up with tears. "Some great wizard I am,
Remus. If I can't even save my friends. . ."
"But Harry--you can and you will! Not just your friends, but all decent
wizard-kind! Don't you see? The fact that you're still here, sitting right next
to me at this moment, is a sign of hope for all of us! Cedric's family, the
Weasleys, Hermione, Sirius, Myself-all of us!"
Harry didn't know what Remus wanted from him. What good was all of this
talk?
"I'm still . . . scared, Remus."
Remus embraced Harry and Harry held on as tightly as he could. "Of course
you are. But Harry, being afraid just means that you understand what's ahead of
you. And courage doesn't mean that you're not afraid-it just means that you're
ready to face it." He brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes and smiled warmly.
"Just remember that you have a weapon to your advantage that no one, not even
Lord Voldemort can conquer-not even in death."
"What's that?"
"Friendship, Harry." He squeezed his hand on his shoulder. "Everyone in
that room, myself, your Godfather--your friends."
Harry hugged him again, needing those words more so than all the birthday
parties or presents in the world.
Fred and George had delighted Imelda and Roger, more specifically, all
night with their endless truckload of stories from their days in Hogwarts. Roger
was delighted with every spell and charm illegally cast-every practical joke and
prank. (Which made Harry wonder just how
good of a police officer he
really was!)
It seemed as though Sophie was delighted with Harry's friends as
well-Dean Thomas in particular, whom she'd kept very close to throughout the
evening. And ever since Dean had discovered that Sophie was a Fulham Football
supporter, he'd been speaking to her of nothing else all night-not that Sophie
minded, of course.
Seamus and Neville were the first to leave, as Neville's grandmother had
a strict curfew for him, and Oliver, Angelina and Katie followed them closely.
Dean Thomas was next, along with Fred and George who took Ginny with them. Ron
and Hermione were the last to leave, of course, the three of them going about
setting up their next meeting.
"When will you be in Diagon Alley?" Ron asked.
"Well, that all depends on the Dursleys. . ."
"Nonsense," Imelda spoke up, "I'll be glad to take you, Harry. It'll be
fun! Besides, I know that Sophie would like to see what it looks like--"
Sophie's eyes lit up. "Would I! Oh Mummy,
really?"
Imelda smiled. "Yes, yes, of course. Now, when do you leave for Hogwarts?
The first?"
"Yes-"
"When will you be there Mr. Weasley?"
"The twenty-eighth."
"Perfect! Then we'll be seeing you there and Miss Granger too, of
course?"
Hermione nodded, "Oh, of course! Oh and Mrs. Banbury, do see that Harry
picks up some new clothes as well. Otherwise I'll have to think twice about
wanting to be seen with you in public!"
Everyone laughed and Remus shuffled them off towards the fireplace. Three
more puffs of green smoke and then everyone was gone.
He couldn't stop showering the Banbury's with thank-yous. Imelda was
quite opposed to his insisting that she was the kindest woman he'd met.
"If you don't stop complimenting me, young man, then I'm just going to
have to revoke my invitation for you to have dinner with us tomorrow night."
"But--you haven't invited me over for dinner tomorrow night."
"Oh I haven't? Oh blast, well, I'd certainly meant to! And if you don't
quit complimenting me, then I won't!"
Harry tried not to laugh and merely nodded.
"Good! Glad we have an understanding. How is six o clock?"
He laughed, "Brilliant! I'll see you then!"
Harry ended up eating with the Banbury's every night that week- one of
the nights they even drove down into London! Harry was agog with excitement as
he gazed out the back seat window, and Sophie kept laughing at the way he was
ooohing and ahhing at everything they passed.
"You may laugh at me now," he warned, "but I daresay you'll be acting the
same way when you come to Diagon Alley!" And then Harry got an evil glint in his
eye, "especially if
Dean shows up, right?"
That landed him a smack in the arm from Sophie who fervently denied the
accusation.
"You liar."
"Well . . ." she cracked a smile. "Even if it
is true, I see that
I'm not the
only one who has an admirer."
"Sorry?"
"Your friend Ron--his little sister Ginny fancies you, doesn't she!"
"Whatever gave you that idea-"
"Oh come on. You're going to tell me that you didn't notice the fact she
was positively
drooling at you all night long. . ."
Harry could feel his ears burning.
Sophie was staring at him, a strange twinkle in her enormous eyes. "Mum
says that you're quite the celebrity in the wizarding world. . ."
He was sure that he was going crimson. "That is a matter of opinion."
"Well, then it's the opinion of most everyone! Even
me, and I'm
normal--- erm . ." she tripped over her words, "I meant to say, er, that I'm a
muggle. . ." she cleared her throat. "You know what I mean. . ."
Harry was smiling now.
" . . . but when I was a little girl, Mom used to read to me stories
about the legendary wizards and witches-you know, Agrippa and all them-- and of
course, she used to read me your story-"
"
My story?"
Oh great. Don't tell me they're selling Harry
Potter books nowadays . . .
"Well, it is in most every history book in your world, isn't it? Anyway,
she used to tell it to me and it was always my favorite. . ." she stole a glance
at his scar. "I mean . . . you have to admit, it is quite amazing . . ."
It must have been the five years of people staring relentlessly at his
scar, talking constantly of you-know-who and all that, but Harry finally had had
enough of it.
"No, not really," he said, quite sternly. "I didn't do anything. If
you're going to gawk over it, you might as well know who the true heroes are:
Lily and James Potter-"
"Your parents?"
"Yes." He folded his arms, lowering his voice so that Imelda and Roger
couldn't hear, though no doubt they were eavesdropping. "Do you know why
Voldemort couldn't kill me? It had nothing to with
me, but my mother.
See, he came to kill my father and myself. My mother refused to let him kill me
and . . ."
"She sacrificed herself instead. . ." Sophie finished, her voice cautious
and tense.
Harry nodded. "It was a spell that she cast upon me. A simple one, an
ancient one, and Voldemort hadn't suspected it and when he cast his death spell
upon me, it instead flew back upon him."
"And it didn't
kill him. . ."
Harry shook his head. "No. . . although he was very near death. Voldemort
had spent his entire life trying to unlock the secret to becoming immortal. He
did terrible things--he did anything in an effort to reach his goal, and after
years of countless potions and spells to lengthen his life. . . I guess
that's why the death spell didn't completely destroy him. . . and now . .
. he's back."
"What do you mean 'he's back'?"
"He's rejuvenated himself. He's come to power once again-"
"
Sophie," Imelda spoke up from the front seat. She'd been
listening to the entire conversation. "Harry is exaggerating, dear. There is no
proof that the Dark Lord has--"
"Oh, but there is evidence! And
I'm it!"
"The Ministry of Magic would have been informed of the situation. To
date, it is still just a rumor. Now Harry, I understand that the death of your
friend Cedric was most unnerving and-"
"Imelda! It's the truth! I know it, Albus Dumbledore knows it--there are
even people in the Ministry that know it's the truth!"
"Cornelius Fudge has made no such statement or-"
"Cornelius Fudge was
there the day that Cedric died! He
knows it's the truth! He's just too much of a coward and a power fiend to
admit it! He knows that if he came before the Ministry with such a claim they'd
boot him from office."
Imelda had turned and was facing her from the passenger seat. "Cornelius
Fudge has taken a solemn oath that as Head Minister, his first and foremost
obligation is protecting the lives of the wizarding community. If he knew this
to be fact, as you claim it Harry, then he is bound by that oath to act on it.
The fact that he
hasn't proves that there is no such need. . . " she
paused and then added, as if obligated, "at this time."
By the time the Dursley's arrived home, he'd quite forgotten about they
even lived there! He'd been in such a fantastic mood for such a long time, that
nothing - not even the Dursleys - could snap him out of it.
"And how was your holiday," he asked pleasantly, taking Aunt Petunia's
coat from her as they heaved their luggage in the door.
Of course, she eyed him suspiciously. "Why? What's happened? What have
you done!" Her eyes went frantically searching the house for
something
out of place. Harry even attempted kind words with Dudley, who merely grunted at
him and trudged upstairs.
"And you, Uncle Vernon! Wasn't Majorca lovely?"
Uncle Vernon looked as though he would have loved to squash Harry into
oblivion, but merely answered with "None of your damn business, boy."
Harry kept his smile and pranced upstairs, happily scratching a cooing
Hedwig, and sat down to finish the remainder of his homework, unphased by the
Dursley's return. What did they matter, after all?
He had
friends.
** *
