Disclaimer: The characters and world of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I wrote this fan fiction as a complement to her. All fan fics are because if we weren't fans, we wouldn't be writing them!
Chapter 4: The Gift
Everybody, but Harry, exited the car quickly and hurried to the narrow, tall, crooked house, known as the Burrow. Harry had been here two times before. The house before him looked held together by magic, which it was, but that was okay because this was where the Weasley's lived. Ron stopped and turned back to the car when he realized that Harry hadn't followed.
"Come on Harry, we'll be late!" Ron yelled.
Harry climbed out of the car, running after Ron, and yelled, "Ron, wait! Why are we at the Burrow? Wait up!" Ron just smiled and yelled, "Come on Grandma!"
"I'll be there in a second. Geez!" Harry slowed down. His thoughts turned to Sirius, as they always did when everyone came together, like this. Harry knew that if Sirius was still alive, he would be having a blast keeping whatever it was from Harry. I really wish he was here, Harry thought. He would be walking next to Lupin, laughing at Harry because he doesn't know the secret. Harry felt a sense of sorrow when he thought of his godfather, but this time he scolded himself. Enough, you can't bring him back. And with that, he walked into the Burrow.
"Oh, good, you're here Harry. We can get started," said Mr. Weasley motioning everyone over to the large fireplace. "Now, Remus, you first." Lupin grabbed a handful of the black powder on the mantel of the fireplace, stepped in, said "Number 18, Ottery, St. Catspole," threw the powder down, and, BOOM, was gone.
Harry asked, "Mr. Weasley, why are we going to…"
Mr. Weasley continued as if he had not heard. "George, you next." George did the same thing as Lupin, and he too was gone.
Harry persisted. "Mr. Weasley, why do we have to travel by Floo Powder? I mean, isn't the village we just passed Ottery…"
"Fred." Fred stepped into the fireplace, and in a few seconds, disappeared.
"Ginny." Poof!
"Who's next? Ron or Hermione?"
Hermione stepped forward. "See you there, Harry."
As she disappeared, Harry turned to Ron, a little impatient. "Ron, where are we going?"
Ron just smiled, grabbed some Floo Powder, and said, "Bye."
Mr. Weasley turned to Harry. "Alright Harry, I am going to leave before you. Just remember to speak…"
"Clearly. I know Mr. Weasley," said Harry, remembering the first time he had traveled by Floo Powder.
"Okay, then, well, I'll see you real soon." With "Number 18 Ottery St. Catspole and a flash, he was gone.
Harry was left all alone in the Weasley's home. "I guess I had better go," he muttered to himself. "I have no idea where I am going, but I will be there." He took a handful of Floo Powder, stepped into the fireplace, and said "Number 18, Ottery, St. Catspole." Harry started to spin past fireplaces connected to the Floo Network. I hate traveling by Floo Powder, he reminded himself, because it's messy, it makes me dizzy, and…
Harry never finished the thought because the spinning stopped.
"That was short," he murmured. Harry stepped out of the fireplace and into a very spacious room. Two big, fluffy couches faced each other at an angle with a coffee table between them, and a rug underneath the table. A reclining chair was in the corner next to an end table with a light. The wall with the fireplace was covered with bookshelves stuffed with books, nick-knacks, and pictures. The far wall had pictures of all the Quidditch teams in the National League. Quidditch was the sport of wizards, played on broomsticks and had three different kinds of balls. Harry had played for his house, Gryffindor, since his first year.
The carpet was a deep golden color, while the walls were burgundy. The couches, chair, and rug were a mixture of the two colors. It looked like a modern version of the Gryffindor common room.
Harry was looking at the room in amazement. "This is really nice. Where are we?" He looked at the group of thirteen people in front of him, now including Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny attended. Everyone exchanged glances, and then turned to smile at Harry.
Dumbledore stepped forward. An old, but sturdy looking man, with long white hair and beard, he always gave Harry a sense of power and security. "Harry, we are in a house located in the little village near the Burrow. This house was bought at the end of your third year and we have been cleaning it out ever since. Getting it ready, so to speak."
"Getting it ready for what?" Harry asked.
"Not what, Harry, who," corrected Dumbledore with a smile. "We wanted it to be a perfect place to call home."
"Why?"
"Oh boy!" muttered Ron, rolling his eyes.
"During your fourth year, Sirius reminded me that you would eventually have to leave the Dursleys."
"Have to? I think more like want to, Professor."
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled and his smile deepened. "Sirius wanted you to have a place to call home when you graduated, so that you wouldn't be wandering the streets."
"He would never be wandering the streets! We would have taken him in before…"
"Molly, I know." Dumbledore continued. "So we have been preparing this house for three years, for you."
Mrs. Weasley stepped up to him and hugged him. She whispered in his ear, "Welcome home, Harry."
Harry still was confused. His mind was spinning. "Wait. You can't give someone a house for their birthday!"
Ron stepped up to him. "And why bloody not?"
"Because, it's too much."
"Oh don't you worry, you aren't getting any Christmas presents from me ever again."
"Ronald Weasley." Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips.
Harry was still standing in the middle of the room, looking dumb, when Hermione hugged him and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Harry."
He couldn't believe it. His birthday present was a house. Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore. He nodded and smiled. Then Harry glanced at Lupin, who was smiling sadly.
"Harry, Sirius bought this house so that you could move in with him after Hogwarts and still be close to your friends. He left it to you."
Harry felt a lump form in his throat. He tried to speak over it, but the words sounded coarse. "Thank you."
Mrs. Weasley snuffed and wiped her eyes. "Harry, dear, why don't you have a look around while I make your birthday breakfast."
"Harry, do you like the pictures?" said Ron motioning to the Quidditch pictures on the wall.
"Ron, they are amazing," said Harry as he stepped closer to take a better look.
Hermione grabbed his hand, "Wait until you see your bedroom!"
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