Sirius Trouble
By: Bethany and Fleur
Rated: PG
Chapter 2 - The best birthday
~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
Harry very well may have forgotten where he was when he awoke the next morning. It was all too good to be true, after all. He was away from the Dursley's, at his best friend Ron's house. Sirius had come and rescued him at last. Yes, it seemed like one long dream that Harry didn't want to let go of. Burrowing further in the blankets, he tried his best to ignore the noises and crashes that wanted to wake him up. Just a few more minutes and then he'd have to open his eyes and look around at the pitch dark room that he lived in. "Harry! Ron! Get up!" a voice hollered. Harry's eyes popped open instantly. He groped next to him for his glasses and after putting them on his face, stared around at his surroundings with a huge smile. Zooming in and out of brightly colored posters that hung on every available space on the wall was Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. His eyes hungrily switched from poster to poster and then to the ceiling as the ghoul began banging pipes in response to Mrs. Weasley's voice. Slowly the blanket on the bed next to him began moving as Ron emerged from it and sat up, looking around dumbly; his hair sticking up in every direction. His eyes focused on Harry and he yawned. "Morning H-H-'arry," he said, yawning again. "Morning Ron," Harry replied, getting up. The two started down the zigzagging staircase to the kitchen just as Mrs. Weasley was placing sausage on everyone's plates. "Good morning Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted as he took his seat between Ron and George. "Good morning, Harry, dear," Molly Weasley said as she waved her wand over a plate of biscuits and had them fly over to the table. Harry still couldn't get enough of everything at The Burrow. Since it was a complete wizarding family, everything was, of course, magic. From the talking mirror in the kitchen (it had already informed Harry that he needed a haircut multiple times) to the dishes Mrs. Weasley made wash themselves. Suddenly the chorus of voices came to an abrupt halt as the swack of an owl caught their ears. Hedwig, who was sitting on a perch near the door, looked outside with her haughtiest look of disapproval. It wasn't long until they would see why, either. Coming from the west was a large gray-feathered object. It barreled into the kitchen, barely missing the doorway and fell flat faced on the kitchen table. "Errol," Fred mumbled, shaking his head as he picked the owl up and took a handful of letters from its grasp. He scanned the envelopes quickly and passed them out. "School letters." Harry took his envelope, identical to everyone else's, and tore it open. As usual it said to catch the Hogwarts Express from King's Cross Station on September first at eleven o'clock. On a separate piece of parchment was the year's list of books. Harry wasn't sure, of course, what would be different. But with Voldemort back to power, he thought something should be changed. However, the letters were the same as every other year's. "Here's your letters, too," Mrs. Weasley said, handing letters to Ginny and Hermione. They had just descended the stairs, both still in gowns. They sat down at the table, ripping theirs open as well. There was another sound and again everyone looked up expectantly as another owl came zooming in the room. This one was a minute owl that was flying in circles around Hermione's head so fast that Harry was sure it would fall from the air in dizziness any second. "Pig!" Ron yelled, standing up and trying to catch the owl before it got some of Hermione's hair caught in its claws. "Stop, you stupid thing!" But the owl didn't stop; happily it zoomed around in circles, making God awful noises of pleasure at having delivered a letter. Ron was leaning over Hermione, who ducked, and again made a snatch for the owl. He missed, lost his footing and fell on top of Hermione before Harry could do more than blink. Both Ron and Hermione fell to the floor with a loud crash, Hermione's plate of food landing on Ron's back. "Ron, what have we told you about playing with your food?" George said, not bothering to hold back a laugh. "To do so at all times," Ron shot back, still in bad temper. "Er...Ron, do you think you could get off me?" a voice from under Ron spoke, coming from a rather squashed Hermione. As it was, Ron was sprawled on top of her, food dripping from his body. The second Ron noticed his face turned as red as a fire engine, missing only the blinking lights. He quickly shot up, not even bothering to help Hermione. His friend looked up at him annoyed, obviously having noticed Ron's lack of etiquette. 'Then again,' Harry mused, 'Etiquette seemed to have been forgotten when Ron dove over Hermione.' "Good thing you didn't impale yourself on her prefect's badge, Ron," Harry said, noticing the glittering silver object Hermione was hugging to her chest. Ron gave Harry a dirty look. Just then Pig landed on Harry's shoulder, still hooting happily. With one last chirp he dropped an envelope onto the boy's lap, before taking off excitedly. "Why are all my pets so... wrong?" Ron asked out loud. However, nobody seemed to notice the rhetorical state of the question, causing various answers to ensue. "At least this one isn't evil, at least, I think it's not," said Ginny. "Perhaps it's just you Ron," Fred started. "Yes, perhaps they're attracted to your oddness," finished George. Harry just smiled and winked at Hermione, who was only now getting off the floor. She winked back and started to brush the food off Ron's back. "Oh dear, Ron, you really are a mess," she chastised. Ron barely kept from growling. Meanwhile, Harry was examining his letter. The envelope read, "Mr. Harry Potter" with neat handwriting addressing "The Burrow." Harry shrugged before he started to tear at the side, carefully extracting the letter. The parchment that fell out immediately opened, portraying a black box. "Is this somebody's idea of a joke?" Harry asked. "No, Harry, it's a parchograph," George said from his seat. "A what?" Hermione rolled her eyes, it was obvious she knew the answer, but then again, she always did. "A parchograph, a means of sending a message by word of mouth, while still using letter format." Harry just stared. Hermione came over and tapped the paper with her wand, causing the black box to swirl until a face came into view. "It's Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed. Indeed, it was the retired Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Hello Harry!" The letterform of the man said, "Happy Birthday! Just thought I'd let you know that Snuffles is ok," Lupin winked here. "Stay out of trouble, ok? And mind Mrs. Weasley. I'll be seeing you soon!" The picture became a black swirl once again, finally becoming a black square that folded itself nicely on the table. "Amazing," Harry whispered. "Why are they always telling us to stay out of trouble?" queried Ron. Everybody gave him a pointed look. "Oh, right." Carefully Harry placed the parchment back in the envelope when he noticed something he hadn't seen before. Laying on the table before him was a small box that had strict instructions to open privately. Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder, examining it. "Look!" he said, pointing. "There's a note on it." He plucked the small note off, unfolding it under the gazes of six other people. It read: Harry, your mother left this in my possession for you when you were old enough. I think it's time. Happy Birthday. Sirius Harry felt his heart begin to race in his chest. What could his mother have possibly left him? Hermione, having leaned over Ron and read the note as well, stood up. "Ron, why don't you all practice Quidditch?" "Why?" Ron asked, still staring at the letter with apt curiosity. His reward was Hermione jabbing him in the ribs: hard. "Oh! Okay!" he said, rubbing his ribs. "You going to get your Firebolt?" he asked Harry. Numbly Harry, having caught on to Hermione faster than Ron, nodded and stood up. Still staring at the box in his hands, he walked through the kitchen. He ran up the stairs two at a time, clutching the box in his hands as if he were afraid it would disappear if he didn't. He burst into Ron's room and sat on the bed, inspecting the brightly colored box in his hands. It seemed ordinary enough, but Harry knew that most things weren't ordinary when it came to the wizarding world. And this box was different, he already knew. It was from his mother. Taking great pains Harry gently pulled apart the seal and pulled off the red foil paper. Staring back from him underneath was a small wooden container with his initials carved in the top, surrounding by what looked suspiciously like snitches. He ran his finger across the carvings and down to the latch that would open it. He bit his lip; what did he expect to find in there, anyways? A letter, perhaps? Something that once belonged to his mother? Excited by the prospect, he gently pulled the latch back and the small top flew backwards. Inside lay a beautiful gold watch. Puzzled, Harry reached in to pick it up when suddenly a bright light shot out of the box, followed shortly by a flickering image in the bedroom floor. The image grew clearer and clearer until it took the shape of a young girl - no older than twenty - with auburn hair and striking green eyes. "Hello Harry," a soft voice said, full of love. Harry's eyes widened as he stared at his mother's smiling, though sad, figure standing in the room with him. She didn't look a day older than she had in the pictures he had, if anything, she was more beautiful in person. She sighed, though still keeping an angelic smile on her face. "Mum?" Harry whispered, hardly wanting to believe what his eyes seen. "James didn't want me to make this," came her voice. "But I couldn't help but thinking that we may get caught. I suppose we did..." her voice trailed off as she stared at Harry. She bit her lip softly, her hands flexing like she longed to reach out, but didn't dare. "You look so much like your father..." "Can you see me?" asked Harry, astonished. He shot up from the bed, just a foot or so in front of his mother. "But how?" This time she did reach out to him, and surprisingly Harry felt a cold hand gently smooth back the wild hair from his head. Determinedly it stuck straight out, despite Lily's attempts to tame it. "I've saved a part of myself in his box. It's possible, you know. Though very difficult. It took me months to figure it out, and a great amount of magic to do it. Unfortunately, I only have enough energy stored for about fifteen minutes." Harry nodded. He vividly remembered Voldemort doing the same thing, only in a diary, his second year at Hogwarts. At least his mother did it for a purely unselfish reason. "Does it mean every time I open this box, I can see you?" asked Harry wistfully. Lily failed even a sad smile when Harry said this. She took a step forward, running a cold hand down the side of Harry's face. "No, darling. It's a one time only deal, I'm afraid. I wish it weren't." She sat on the edge of the bed, Harry sitting down next to her, still staring like a hungry dog would food. "How old are you now?" "I turned fifteen today." This time she did manage another loving smile at her only son. "You do look remarkably like James, but your eyes... you have my eyes." She laughed softly, the sound like music to Harry's ears. "You were born with blue eyes. For a while we were sure they would stay that way. Sirius swore he would hex them green if they didn't turn on their own. But finally they did." She laughed in remembrance and Harry listened intently to her voice, trying to store it to his memory forever. For as long as Harry could remember, he had dreamt of sitting beside his mother. In his mind he had gone over the things he would say to her; but now that the moment had came, all he could do was stare incredibly. He realized that he was allowing precious time to slip away, however, and forced his mind to think of something to say. "What's this?" he asked softly, once again reaching inside the box, this time pulling out the watch to examine it. Lily's eyes flickered with some unknown emotion before she smiled and took the watch from Harry's hand. "A little something I made just after your father and I got married." She laughed at the memory, adjusting on the bed and beckoning Harry to join her. "I had the hardest time getting James, Sirius, Peter and Remus home before their dinner was stone cold. I threatened to make something to find them, as a joke. But actually, it was very helpful. James used it many times to find people during the war. Perhaps it will prove useful for you, as well." She reached down, pushing a button on the side of the watch. "Push this button and speak the full name of the person you wish to find and an arrow will flash here when you are facing the right direction. As you draw closer, the faster the flash will get." Harry had hardly time to consider how useful this maybe when he felt his mother's arms wrap around him tightly. It was odd, at first. Harry hadn't known much affection in his life, especially since the Dursley's would rather eat slugs than touch him. The sensation was new on him, and for some reason his mother's skin was cold. But it didn't matter, being hugged for the first time he could remember by his mother, it felt warm and heavenly. He allowed her to hold his head close to her chest and run her fingers through his unruly hair. "My baby boy," she whispered and it sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "James' son... He was so happy the day you were born. I've never seen him glow that way, not even the day we were married. And then I'm assuming Voldemort came..." Harry cringed, this part he knew. His third year when the Dementors were at Hogwarts, he heard her voice every time he got near them. Screaming, trying to protect him... dying... His mother's voice seemed to jump up an octave. "But you're with Sirius, and even though I've wondered about how he might corrupt you, I'm sure he's a good father." When Harry didn't answer, Lily pulled away and looked at him quizzingly. "Harry? Sirius is a good father, right? You're happy?" Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that he hadn't lived with Sirius, but her muggle sister. Her time was short, and there was no reason to fill it with unhappiness. Besides, he thought, I'm away from that now. He nodded. "Sirius is great and I'm happy," he confirmed. Lily looked like she knew he was holding something back, but didn't pursue it. Instead her eyes fixed on the bright orange Quidditch players zooming in and out of posters along the wall. "A Chudley Cannons fan, are you?" she whispered, trying to lighten the subject. Harry shook his head, giving her a lopsided grin. "No. They're Ron's, my best friend," he added when her eyebrows wrinkled up. He recognized it as something Hermione had claimed he done when he was really concentrating on something. "This is Ron's room, I'm staying here until school starts." "I see," Lily smiled, taking a longer look at her son. She seem to notice that the clothes he wore was at least four sizes too big and his cheeks were gaunt from lack of food. "Where's Sirius now?" Harry's eyes darted over his mother's shoulder. "He's at Professor Lupin's." Suddenly Lily's face contorted and her mouth fell open. Harry backed up, surprised as laughter spilled from Lily's lips. "Professor?!" she gasped, looking as though she might collapse into giggles. "You're talking about Remus Lupin, right? Moony? A Professor?" And again she broke into laughter that nearly had her to tears. "Oh if only James could see him now..." Harry couldn't imagine what would be so funny about sober Professor Lupin being a teacher. Quizzingly he stared at his mother. She caught her breath, tears still lingering in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. You'd have to had known him in school to understand. He, James, Sirius and Peter got into so much mischief that it's hard to picture him a Professor. Oh, McGonagall had her hands full with them..." Harry wished he did know about it. He wished that he had a mother and father that could tell him the stories of their youth. He wanted to know when his mother and father meet, how they fell in love. He wanted to know about the things his father and his friends did when they were in school. He wished more than anything to be a normal kid. The scar on his forehead stung oddly, stopping just as soon as it began hurting. Harry flinched, idly reaching for it out of habit. Instantly Lily's eyes flashed with concern and she reached out, brushing the hair from the cut. "Harry!" she gasped, green eyes wide. "How did you get this?" Harry cursed himself inwardly for averting her attention to it to begin with. He gently removed her hand from it, flattening his bangs down over it again. "It's nothing, I've had it since.... well, since..." his voice trailed off, but he needn't had said anymore anyways. Lily's eyes clouded over and as she once more reached out and ran her finger over the cut. "Voldemort?" Harry barely had time to be surprised at hearing his mother say the oh-so-dreaded name for trying to figure out if he should lie to her about it or not. He shrugged, going for a half truth instead. "No one really knows what happened that night." Evasive, but effective. Or maybe Lily just knew Harry didn't want to talk about it, because with great reluctantly she broke her stare from his head. Unfortunately it wasn't because Harry didn't want to talk about the Dark Lord that Lily let him go. Her body was growing fainter. The fifteen minutes was nearly up. Harry watched in horror as her hands grew paler and then transparent. His green eyes darted up to hers, silently pleading. "Mum?" he whispered, his voice barely recognizable. It seemed there was a frog sitting in his throat. Lily wrapped her arms around Harry tightly, her lips on his forehead. Oddly enough her lips seemed warm, where the rest of her touches had been cold before then. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if silently praying, her body disappearing still. "Harry, I love you. James and I both love you so much. I'm so proud of the young man you've become." As Lily's form flickered, Harry felt the frog in his throat block his breathing. His eyes stung sharply, filling with tears that he didn't want to shed. "I love you Mum..." She was gone. Harry stared at the place that not thirty seconds before his mother had sat, and let a tear slip un-noticed down his face. And another. He hadn't cried since he was little, but he couldn't help it. He had been too young to grieve for his parents when they died, instead he had felt a hollow emptiness in his chest. A hollowness that suddenly felt intensified. He dropped his head in his hands, trying to grasp the sound of Lily's voice and engrave it in his mind. He didn't hear the door creak further open, or the soft footfalls of Ginny Weasley as she crossed the carpet. He only realized he wasn't alone when she sat down next to him. His mind faintly registered shock when suddenly she wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He said nothing as she held him. There was nothing to say. Words were always clumsy at a time like this, and Ginny seemed to understand that. For a few moments they sat in silence until Harry managed to gain control over himself. Still then he didn't move, only marveled at how calming Ginny's actions were. Somewhere between his second year and now, the little girl that used to run away or drop something every time she seen him had vanished. Although she usually managed a blush, she seemed sure of herself and her actions as she comforted him. Harry sat back slowly, Ginny following his lead. Her eyes were full of sadness for him, but not pity. Just sadness. As if she were trying to imagine a life time without her mother and father and not being able to bear it. Harry stared into her blue eyes for a long moment, his heart beat finally calming. Slowly he reached his hands towards her face, brushing a shoulder length strain of red hair from her cheek. She didn't shiver, but he could almost hear her heart pounding rapidly. It seemed to happen quickly and yet slowly at the same time. Without first realizing what it was he was doing, Harry moved his head closer to Ginny's and brushed his lips over hers. This time she did shiver, but remained put, her eyes on his. Blue meet with green in mutual agreement, and Harry again brought his lips to hers. "Harry! Ginny! What's taking you so long? We're about to start playing Quidditch!" Ron's voice echoed up the staircases. Following his voice was the sound of fast and heavy footfalls on the stairs. Harry and Ginny pulled away, still staring at each other. Ron came to the doorway, pushing it open just as Ginny leapt up from the bed. She didn't blush, as Harry expected, but instead smiled and then dashed out the door. Ron watched her go with his eyebrows creased. He then turned to Harry, who had managed to regain his composure the second before. "Why did Mum and Dad decide they needed a girl, anyways? Six boys was plenty," he rambled, flinging Harry's trunk open and grabbing his Firebolt. "Let's go!" Harry stood slowly, thankful Ron didn't ask about the package. He supposed Hermione might have had something to do with it. Taking the broomstick from Ron's hands and casting one, last, longing look towards the wooden box, he turned towards the door. "Ron, I need to talk to you and Hermione later," he mumbled. Ron nodded, looking cross between talking now and playing Quidditch later, or reverse. Still trying to clear his mind of everything from his Mum to kissing Ginny, Harry passed Ron and started down the steps. This would definitely be a summer he'd remember. Of all the things Harry loved about the wizarding world, this had to be the best. Air rushed at him from every angle as he zoomed through the air on his Firebolt, scooping down until his toes caressed the top of the grass and then back up towards the heavens. Up here he could feel the anxiety and troubles release him, leaving nothing but the sound of rushing wind in his ear. "Hey Harry! Catch!" Without another second's notice, Harry seen an apple go zooming by him. With ease that almost bordered on child's play, he flew after the apple, caught it, doing a flip in mid-air at the same time. "Too easy!" he called back down to Fred, or George. It really was hard to tell from his height. While he had been upstairs, Bill and Charlie, Ron's oldest brothers, had arrived. As he watched, Bill walked up to the twins, took out his wand and said something. Whatever it was had the identical twins grinning from ear to ear. "Catch this one!" Bill called, throwing the apple into the air. Harry knew instantly that the speed of that apple had nothing to do with Bill's great pitcher's arm. He was more than up to the challenge, however. Turning his Firebolt, he bent low to the handle and took off after the apple at top speed. The wind was now wiping around his head so fast that he could barely open his mouth. With determination like that he had at an actual game, Harry curved off to the left to avoid a tree branch before reaching his hand out to grab the apple. "Woohoo!" he yelled, doing a flip in the air before rushing back towards the ground. "The house cup is ours this year!" he proclaimed, landing on the ground just a few feet away from where Bill and the twins were staring with huge grins. "That was brilliant, Harry!" Bill said, nodding towards the apple in his hand. "I had that thing set at 150 mph and you caught it like it was nothing! I hope you plan to go professional, you'd make one hell of a seeker on the national team." Harry smiled, still clutching the Firebolt in his hand. "I'm not sure what I'll do when school ends," he admitted, but didn't go into details about his reasoning. Honestly, the reason he hadn't thought about it was because of his frequent run-ins with Voldemort. Who could think past tomorrow when the most dreaded Dark Wizard of all time had you has his prime target? He had managed to escape four times, but each and every time it became harder. Who knew when his luck would run out? Trying to keep his mind from wondering too far, Harry turned his head and scanned the people around him. Bill was standing next to the twins, and just to the left was Charlie, a broom in hand, then Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The only Weasley who was missing was Percy, who was due in any moment along with Mr. Weasley. "Wanna play another quick game before dinner?" Bill asked, using his wand to call his own broom to him. All males were more than up for it. Hermione and Ginny, both rolling their eyes heavenwards, walked over to sit under a tree and out of the hot sun. Bill enchanted the apple to zoom around on it's own free will -- much like the snitch, only easier to see -- and as soon as it was freed they all soared into the sky. The only thing missing was the bludgers, but Fred and George seem to be having fun playing the opposing team's chasers. Harry watched as Bill, Charlie, Fred and George fought back and forth for control of the quaffle, while Ron served as the keeper for both sides. Since they had only one seeker, they weren't actually playing to win, just for fun. Fred went to score and Ron expertly knocked the ball right back at him. Hermione and Ginny cheered from the ground. Right about that time, though, there was a small scream. Loud enough, however, that even though they were up in the air, all of the Weasley's and Harry heard it. Quickly Harry with drew his wand, that he kept with him at all time, coming down to the ground for a closer look at the problem. Puzzled, Harry landed along side the twins, Charlie in front of them. Hermione was standing opposite of them, wringing her hands and practically dancing on tiptoes while Crookshanks fought with something. The only problem was, no one could see what it was. Among the spitting and hissing, Bill eased closer and finally found out what the ginger cat had been fighting. The enchanted apple. "Prior Incantato!" Bill said, aiming his wand at the apple, which immediately stopped bashing Crookshanks in the side of the head. Hermione instantly scooped up the cat, checking it over for injury as everyone else burst out laughing. "See what I mean about the pets?" Ron asked as Mrs. Weasley hollered across the field for them to come eat. Everyone started towards the house, Ron and Harry staying back to wait for Hermione to finish checking Crookshanks over. "My poor baby," Hermione cooed, unable to stop stroking Crookshanks. "The cat is fine, Hermione!" Ron complained. He glanced at Crookshanks, who had narrowed his eyes and was giving the redhead a rather dirty look. "Your cat is staring at me funny," said Ron, gulping unintentionally. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione snapped, placing Crookshanks down gently. "Now, isn't it time we go back to the house?" "Oh yeah... I hope Mum's not too angry in there." Harry picked up his broomstick and started to walk towards the Burrow, quickening his pace before announcing, "First one back wins!" Hermione and Ron chased after him until they were feet from the back door, where they all collapsed into a fit of laughter. "Well, let's go in, shall we?" asked Hermione, standing up. She didn't move towards the door. "Yes." Ron stood up as well and looked pointedly at Harry. Harry got off the ground and bestowed a strange look on his best friends. Suspiciously, he walked towards the door and turned the knob... "SURPRISE!" Harry about fell backwards he was so utterly amazed at the spectacle before him. All seven Weasleys were standing before him cheerily, along with Hermione... but that wasn't all. Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan were also there. Decorations littered the kitchen and living room, huge balloons and countless rolls of streamers gave the place a cheery atmosphere. A rather large cake with, "Happy Birthday Harry," on it was on the table, surrounded by presents. Professor Lupin was sitting at the kitchen table, sporting a yellow pointed birthday hat that read, "3W." Harry felt the urge to rip the hat off his ex-professor, right before it exploded into a multitude of confetti. His shock over, he joined in the laughter-and indignant cry of Mrs. Weasley-as the colorful paper started to snow down on the occupants of the room. After the laughter calmed down, Harry's sought for some words to convey his happiness. However, no words came and he ended up looking like a fish with no water. "Forgive the chap," Ron said, "he's never had a proper party before." "I mean... this is just... I can't believe..." Harry trailed off. "Say 'thank-you' Harry," said Dean. "Thank you," Harry repeated, realizing just how much he'd missed his dorm mates. "And Professor Lupin, is this what you meant by 'I'll be seeing you soon'?" "No, I meant to put 'very soon', but I forgot," Remus winked and brushed some confetti out of his hair. Harry laughed as he was pushed further in the room by Fred and George, who both looked like they were right at home in the party atmosphere. It would only be too soon that Harry found out why. Four exploding presents, a table full of real presents, cake, ice cream and other wizarding treats later, Dean, Neville and Seamus left via floo powder and Molly was cleaning up the kitchen. It seemed that the Weasley twins had went all out for the occasion. Several times things had exploded, sending fireworks, confetti and feathers everywhere. Neville had once again became a target of the Canary Creams and Percy had been slipped a Tongue Twister in his slice of cake and said everything backwards for ten minutes - even Mrs. Weasley had laughed when he began obviously telling the twins off, but only sounded like a babbling toddler. This having been a rather large party, what with there being nine Weasleys present, not to mention his other friends, Harry had a whole array of great gifts. Ron gave him a miniature Quidditch field that had moving figurines that replayed minute by minute recounts of the World Cup. Bill gave him an alarm clock that was a smaller version of that in the Weasley's kitchen, which didn't help at all if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise was very useful. Instead of numbers, it said things like "Time to Eat", "Time for Class" and "You're Late!" Seamus got him a Quidditch poster and Dean a soccer ball (which Harry was sure he'd have to explain to both Ron and Mr. Weasley). Fred and George had bestowed him with his own supply of 3W dug bombs, only their version had timers to keep the prankster from getting caught. Remus gave him a crystal chess set and Neville gave him a set of personalized parchment that read "From the Desk of Harry Potter" on the top. When asked about this, Neville claimed his Gran thought it would be a good present. Ginny had given him a bottle of ink that changed colors every time you dipped your quill into it, and Charlie gave him a book about dragons. Speaking of books, Harry nearly chuckled to himself at the lack of Percy's present sitting among his gifts. It had took all he had to looking convincingly interested in the book entitled "Everything You'll Ever Need to Know About Being the Smartest Person Ever." It hadn't, however, taken that much out of Hermione, who had instantly wanted to borrow it. Harry had let her, giving her strict instructions to take her time. Hermione's present was perhaps his favorite; a case to keep his Firebolt in that allowed no one but the owner to open it. The case was hex and curse resistant, as well. Two more owls arrived late in the afternoon, one with a present from Hagrid (a bag full of Honeyduke's candy) and the other with a wrapped package, but no name. Harry opened it away from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, not sure as to it's contents, and found his invisibility cloak. There was no note, but Harry, Ron and Hermione knew it had to be from the Hogwarts Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He had been the one to give it to Harry in his first year. That night Harry lay, staring at his presents staked on his trunk, nearly not believing what a wonderful birthday this had been. Without a doubt, his best birthday ever. --End Chapter 2. How's this for late service, eh? It never did get to the editor, incase you run across something we've totally messed up ;) Dunno when the next chapter will be out, but rest assure it will be before book five of Harry Potter is out :) Though, they have FINALLY set a *real* public announcement date of June 21, 2003. So we still have some time before then to get this finished. Read? Like? Hate? Review! Because Fleur and I failed Divination (and probably spelling class, too;)
