Daphne: ***IMPORTANT, MUST READ!!! (PLEASE!!!)***
***I want to say ahead of time, that there will be a sequel to this. But I would also like to announce that there will be a side-story as well.
The sequel will be mostly about the children of the Harry Potter generation, and their trials and tribulations.
The side-story will be about the one-and-only Draco Malfoy, but I can't give out much information about that, or else I'd give this entire story away! BUT I WILL PUT A SMALL PREVIEW AFTER THIS CHAPTER, IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SAMPLE!!!
So sit tight, and enjoy this chapter!***
~*~*~*~
The Phoenix's Prophesy
by: Daphne Li
Chapter 7.
~*~*~*~
Things had been strangely quiet around the Weasley house, since Harry's Birthday. Mr. Weasley had had more work than ever before, because of the new threat of Voldemort, so he had not been home most of the time.
Fred and George were immersed in inventing and selling more and more joke things, and were rarely seen, though they did come sometimes on weekends, just to assure their mother that they were alive. Charlie had returned to Romania (he still Apperated to visit), though Bill had decided to stay, giving him more time to give Fleur her 'private' lessons.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all been stepping lightly around Harry since his Birthday, usually sending him worried looks when he became 'overly' quiet. Mrs. Weasley had even begun to worry over him more, so there was rarely a moment where he was not alone, no matter how much he wanted it.
And he had still received no response from Rose. Hedwig had not returned, nor was there any sign of Kaya, who would have been the next logical choice.
So Harry obediently spent his time with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, whether it was playing Quidditch (Harry gave both Ron and Ginny chances to ride his broom), listening to Hermione drone on about some book, or playing endless games of Wizard's Chess with Ron.
Presently, Ron and Harry were on their thirtieth game this week.
"Check." Ron said in a bored voice. Harry rolled his eyes and caught Ginny's gaze. She grinned at him and shrugged.
"Big surprise." Harry mumbled, as he moved, and then Ron checkmated him.
"Harry? Isn't that Hedwig?" Hermione asked suddenly, gazing out the window. Harry turned sharply and let out a yelp, as his beautiful owl soared through the window and landed gracefully on Harry's chair, looking nothing short of tired. Harry gave her a quick pat, to show her that she was loved, and then pulled the letter off her leg and tore into it eagerly.
//Dear Harry:
I wish your Birthday hadn't ended like that. It must have been very upsetting. I wish I could have been there to hug you! But since I wasn't, I managed to figure out another way for you to vent, as well. Jackson, like you, lost Sirius, and lately he has been falling in and out of these moody depressions, just like yours. I think he'd like someone other than me to talk to, so I suggested you. He's agreed, but only if you promise not to laugh at him.
I promised him you wouldn't, so he's sending a letter by his own owl, Hercules (strange name, I know. But he got him just after watching Disney's 'Hercules', so I suppose it makes sense...).
Anyway, I miss you! I showed everyone a picture of you...Shirah thinks you're cute, Raya says you look kind, Shane grinned and asked if you like jokes, Jackson laughed and said that your hair looks like you just went through a hurricane, and Neville made some comment about your picture acting the same as you do in real life (the 'you' in the picture was trying to hide from view!).
Well, I'd better end this. Jackson's letter should be arriving soon after mine, so watch for a big eagle owl!
Love you lots,
Rose
P.S. Hercules likes to eat bacon, and lots of it. Do you think it would be asking too much if you feed him before sending him back? He tends to get a bit cranky if he hasn't eaten, and then Jackson gets a few peck-marks as 'thanks'.//
Harry chuckled as he read this, but quickly hid the letter as Ron tried to peer at it. He quickly rolled it up and stuck it into his pocket, ignoring the significant looks Ron, Hermione, and Ginny shot at each other.
There was soon another loud hoot, and another owl swooped into the room, this one much bigger. It settled itself on the other side of Harry's chair, and regally held out it's leg so Harry could retrieve it's letter.
"Thank you, Hercules." Harry murmured, petting the owl. Without reading it, he placed the rolled up parchment into his pocket, and then quickly went to ask Mrs. Weasley for some bacon to give to Hercules, ignoring the confused looks his friends sent to him.
~*~*~*~
Harry waited until Ron was fast asleep that night, before reading Jackson's letter. He read it by the full-moon light, that was shinning into Ron's room through the window.
//Dear Harry:
This is sort of new and strange to me, so I am going right to the point.
Rose tells me that you are having some problems coping with...Dad's death. I'll admit, I am too. It is really hard, knowing your father for the first time in your thirteen years of life, and then loosing him two years later.
It is also hard that I wasn't there with him when he died. I still feel guilty about that. You see, dad invited me over to visit him, since my school ends earlier than yours. But I refused, because a bunch of my friends were going to the beach and I wanted to go with them. Then, when I get home, mom's crying, I see a letter on the floor near her, so naturally I read it. And it turns out my dad was killed, right at the time I could have been there to prevent it.
In his letter when he invited me, he told me that he was lonely. He told me he wanted to see me again. But I was selfish and went with my friends anyway, completely ignoring the man I had come to call 'dad'.
I shouldn't have done that, Harry. I should have been there for him when he died. I could have stopped it, I know I could have. But I wasn't there.
(Here there were several wrinkle marks, almost like someone had splattered water...or tears, on the page.)
And now all I have left, is the guilt that *I* was the one who truly led him to die. He wouldn't have died if I had been there. I have dreams about it every night, that he is still with me, and everything's all right. But then something happens in those dreams and dad disappears. The dreams scare me a little, but don't tell anyone. What if they're showing me a future that I could have had with my dad, but ruined because of that one choice? What if they're showing me that dad was angry about my refusing to come? What if he was hurt by it?
I think I'll end here. I've already dumped enough of my problems on you. And you don't have to write back if you don't want to. I'd understand.
But remember Harry. I miss dad, too. I miss him a lot.
Sincerely yours,
Jackson McBride-Black//
Harry felt a prickling around his eyes again, and blinked back a wave of wetness that filled them. He knew then, what he had to do...what he wanted to do.
He was going to write to Jackson. Jackson understood exactly how Harry was feeling, and Harry understood Jackson's guilt, as well. They were kindred sprits, in a way.
With a sigh, Harry quickly stashed the letter beneath his pillow, swiped his hand across his eyes quickly, to make sure there was no extra water there, and then lay down to sleep.
He didn't notice that Ron's eyes were slightly slitted, and staring right at him the entire time.
~*~*~*~
"Harry? Do you want to go play a game of Quidditch?" Ron asked hesitantly the next morning, as they were finishing up with breakfast. Harry shook his head.
"I...I have something I have to do, Ron. You go ahead." Harry suggested, eyeing the twins who had just arrived from their shop. Ron looked a bit upset, but nodded and quickly left the table, to get his broom. Ginny had not yet come downstairs, and Hermione was already buried in one of her huge school-books.
"Harry, dear? Are you all right?" Molly asked worriedly, putting a hand to Harry's forehead. Harry smiled at her concern.
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley. I just have to write a few letters." Harry informed her, getting up from the table and heading up to Ron's room. When there, he made short time in getting out his writing things, and retrieving Jackson's letter from beneath his pillow.
//Dear Jackson:
Actually, I would like to write back to you, which I am sure is obvious to you, by now. ^__^
I can understand the guilt you're feeling...but it's *not* your fault, whatsoever. In fact, I am sure that if you had been there, you would have only joined in on the 'party', and then you would have been killed, too. But it is like someone once told me. If Sirius had to die, he would have rather died battling, then sitting on his butt doing nothing.
I know it is no use, telling you its not your fault. I doesn't work on me, and if you are anything like your dad, it sure as hell won't work on you. But I will say this. Sirius would have rather had you live, then die with him. And I have a feeling that he may have been hurt at first, but I am sure that faded into relief when he had to come rescue...me and my friends. I don't think he would have wanted you there.
And your dreams aren't that strange. I have similar ones, though they also have other people I have known, leaving me as well. I suppose it is a normal part of this thing, but it sure isn't pretty.
You know, our letters have been sort of...morbid, lately. Perhaps we'd better try looking at the lighter side of things. Maybe that would make this whole ordeal seem a lot less painful for the both of us.
All right, now that that's settled, how are things in America? Is Neville behaving himself? Have you tipped over any more hot-dog stands? (I don't really know what this is about, but Neville's grandmother mentioned it when I met them at the airport. Perhaps you could explain?)
Well, I'd better go. Everyone here is starting to think I'm going into mourning, and Mrs. Weasley keeps fussing over me at any moment possible. I don't want them to think I've committed suicide! ^__^
Like Shane, I never know what to put here,
~Harry//
Harry read his letter over, feeling strangely satisfied and lighter, now that he was sharing his feelings with not only Rose, but Jackson as well. With a small smile, he folded his letter, addressed it, and then handed it to Hedwig, who flew off into the afternoon.
"Harry?" Came a soft voice from the doorway. For some reason, Harry had the insane urge to laugh in relief, but why, he had no idea.
"Come on in, Ginny." He called, still staring out the window. He heard the door open cautiously, and could feel Ginny's hesitant gaze on his back.
"Are you all right, Harry? How come you're not out playing with Ron, Fred, and George?" Ginny asked gently. Harry smiled.
"Why aren't you out there? And I'm fine!" He stated, turning around. Ginny stared at him for a moment, looking even more confused.
"How come you're so happy?" She asked, a bit stiffly. Harry chuckled.
"Lets just say, I got a load off my back, and leave it at that. Why are you still here?" Harry repeated. Ginny looked at the floor, her eyes darkening.
"I was worried about you. Mum said that you had come up here after breakfast, and she hadn't seen you since."
"I am *fine*, Ginny. Why can't I convince anyone that I AM FINE?!?! Really, I am." Harry exclaimed, sinking down onto his bed and falling back against the pillow. Ginny giggled and settled herself by his feet.
"I know you are fine. But you still have those bouts of depression..."
"As do you." Harry shot back. Ginny looked at him in confusion, and then growing alarm.
"What?"
"You may be able to hide them from your family, but I can see when you are thinking about your...ordeals. You are no better then me! Now I'll ask you. Who have you spoken to? Who have you confided in to get all that crap out of your system?" He asked. Ginny's eyes lowered again.
"No one..."
"Exactly. You, and everyone else for that matter, have tried to get me to open up. And when I tell you I have (just not to you), you don't believe me. But you...you've never done anything, when I have. Therefore, that makes you a hypocrite, Ginny." Harry informed her. Ginny winced and Harry could see her mentally withdrawing from him. She slowly turned away and looked like she was about to try to leave the room.
"Oh, no you don't. I've shared my problems with somebody, now it's your turn to share yours with somebody." Harry insisted, shooting up and grabbing her arm. Ginny stared at him in shock, for a moment, then sighed.
"Who have you told, Harry? Who? And why should I believe you?" She asked, a bit sharply. Harry smirked.
"I've told Rose and Jackson. In fact, I sent Jackson a letter, just before you came in." Harry explained. Ginny raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him, and Harry sighed.
"Fine, you want proof? Here's your proof." Harry said, pulling Rose's letter out of his pocket and handing it to her. Ginny read it quickly, and then looked up at him.
"Why do you trust them? Why do you trust them above us, the people who are *supposed* to be your friends?" She asked, her eyes shining with tears. Harry sighed again and put a hand on Ginny's arm.
"I do trust you...all of you...but there are some things that I feel more comfortable sharing with people who understand what I've been through..."
"I understand! I understand better then they do!" Ginny cried, her eyes filling with hurt. Harry groaned softly, feeling guilt rush into his chest.
"Do you? Do you, Ginny?" He asked gently, getting up and walking over to his trunk, from which he pulled a large photo album.
"Look at this. Tell me what you see." Harry murmured, opening to a certain page and pointing at a picture. Ginny looked, and her mouth formed a small 'o'.
"That's your mother!" She gasped. Harry nodded.
"And my father, and Sirius, Remus, Peter, and May. They were all friends at Hogwarts. This was taken just before their graduation." Harry murmured. The figures in the picture were waving and smiling up at them, Sirius occasionally making peace signs and such. Harry allowed Ginny to get a good look at the photo, before turning to one of the last full pages of the book.
"And now, who are they? Look really closely." Harry commanded, pointing at another picture. Ginny looked, a frown appearing on her face.
"Your mother and Sirius..."
"No, Ginny. You didn't get a good look at the picture. They are not my mother and Sirius. That's Rose and Jackson." He informed her. Ginny caught her breath and stared at the picture with wide eyes. It was a photo Rose had sent with one of her latest letters. It showed her and Jackson, sitting side by side on a large, Victorian-like porch-swing, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
"That's Rose?" She asked in a shaky voice. Harry nodded.
"I told you she looks like my mum. But who does Jackson look like, Ginny?"
"Sirius."
"Exactly. Now can you guess why I am writing him? He lost Sirius, too. He also lost his father in the process." Harry murmured. Ginny choked.
"Jackson? Sirius had a son? Why didn't he ever say anything?" Ginny asked softly.
"Because. Telling everyone that he had a son would endanger both Jackson and Sirius's wife, May. Voldemort might try to come after them, and if not them, Rose, whom May adopted when Rose was just a baby." Harry explained. Ginny nodded, trying to take it all in.
"But why tell Rose?" She asked in a weak voice. Harry smiled.
"I was telling the truth, Ginny, when I told everyone that I didn't like Rose like that. The truth is, she is more like a...sister to me. When she was staying with the Dursleys, and found out my secret, she didn't treat me like a celebrity. She didn't goggle at my scar or ask for my autograph. She just wanted to comfort me. And she did. We became close, and I felt more willing to tell her anything, then anyone else."
"Why, though?" Ginny asked. Harry shrugged.
"I love your family, Ginny. I love them all. But you have to admit that they worry over me a little too much, and if your mother ever found out about my true problems, she would go crazy, trying to coddle me. I don't want that. I don't want pity, and I don't want to be babied. I just want someone to listen, who would understand my problems and not try to make it all seem like it is just a childish problem." Harry explained. Ginny nodded.
"I think I understand. I feel the same way. The only people I have to confide in are my family, and my friends at school. But none of them would ever really take me seriously." She whispered. Harry smiled.
"You see? Now you know why I don't want to share everything with your family. I truly to trust them, Ginny, but I need something more than that. I need someone who understands."
"You just trusted me with it." Ginny said, her voice growing sly. Harry froze, realizing what she said was true, and then chuckled.
"I suppose I did. And you trusted me with yours, so now we're even. But Ginny, promise me. Promise me you won't worry over me any more. I'm fine, really." Harry assured. Ginny nodded and gazed back down at the picture.
"She is so pretty." She murmured, almost jealously, as she ran a gentle finger over Rose's image. Harry laughed and turned to a page with Ginny's picture.
"She said the same thing about you, when she saw yours. She really wants to get to know you, Gin." Harry informed her, causing Ginny to blush a bit.
"I'd like that." She whispered, looking at her picture. Harry smiled.
"Truce?" He asked, holding out a hand. Ginny pretended to be thinking it over, then she nodded.
"Truce." She murmured, placing her hand into Harry's.
Both tried to ignore the strange tingle that ran through their bodies as their hands met, and shook.
~*~*~*~
"Diagon Alley?! You mean, we get to go? Really?!" Ron exclaimed a two weeks later, when his mother announced that she was taking them to get their school supplies. Their school letters had arrived the day before, but none of them had expected to be able to go, because of the newest threats of Voldemort.
"Yes. But I'm warning you. There will be people from the you-know-what, watching your every move, so don't try to pull anything funny." Mrs. Weasley shot a look at Ginny, who giggled.
"We won't, mum." Ron insisted, bounding up the stairs to get ready. Harry quickly followed, his eyes twinkling. It had been three years since he had seen Diagon Alley, and he was eager to see if it had changed any.
"You all right there, Harry?" Ron asked, as Harry was slipping on a robe. Harry turned with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm FINE, Ron!" He managed, as Ron shot him a funny look.
"Any more letters, lately?" Ron asked, looking curious. Harry grinned.
"Several. Some from Rose, some from Jackson, one from Neville, a few from Ginny..."
"WHAT?!?!" Ron shouted, his ears turning red. Harry chuckled.
"Calm down, mate! I was only joking...Neville sent me two." He stated, dashing out of the room before Ron could make another sound. Ginny was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking pensive.
"What did you do, now?"
"He asked me if I had gotten any letters recently, and I told him that Rose, Jackson, Neville, and you had sent me some."
"WHAT?!" Ginny cried, looking as if she was about to laugh. Harry grinned.
"Can you believe that he actually thought I was serious about you writing?" Harry asked, as Ron came stomping down the stairs, shooting death-glares at Harry. The two at the bottom burst into laughter.
"I was just joking about Ginny, Ron. She didn't write me anything, truly." Harry assured. Ron's face returned to it's normal color, but he was still frowning.
"Don't you ever joke like that again, Harry. It's not funny." Ron said in a serious voice, before brushing past him and going into the living room. Harry stared after him, confused.
"What did I do?"
"Don't ask. Ron never makes sense." Ginny sighed, as the two of them followed Ron.
~*~*~*~
"I thought I would never see this place again!" Ron groaned in ecstasy, leaning back in his chair. He, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny were all seated around a table at the ice-cream parlor, eating their ice-cream with vigor.
They had finished their shopping, but Mrs. Weasley had a few more errands to run before they left, so the group had decided to go for ice-cream, and then visit Fred and George's shop while they waited.
"You thought you would never see it?" Harry asked, spooning another spoonful of the icy treat into his mouth and closing his eyes in contentment. Hermione and Ginny giggled, as they watched the boys unceremoniously eat through their deserts as fast as possible.
"Right! Ready to go?" Ron asked eagerly, as he watched the girls finish their ice-cream. Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ginny gave a happy squeal and nodded. As they walked towards the joke shop, Harry felt freer than he had ever felt in his life. Sure, Voldemort was on the loose, people were slowly dying here and there...but it wasn't directly effecting Harry, or the people he cared about, yet. And that was a load off his shoulders.
"HARRY! GINNY! RON, HERMIONE!" Came two voices as the four entered the shop. Fred and George bounded in front of them before they could even see much of anything, and ushered the group further into the store.
"What do you think? We had some help from Angelina, who helped with the design, but the rest was us!" Fred explained, as he motioned around the large room. Harry had to admit that it was even better than the joke shop in Hogsmede.
The all four of the walls were littered with shelves of joke items. There were also shelves and tables placed carefully around the shop, filled with rubber chickens (most likely enchanted ones), and other larger items. There was a long counter at the far end of the room, with a cash-register on it, and behind the counter were more shelves, though these seemed to be filled with more dangerous pranks and such.
"Wow! This is bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, picking up a rubber chicken which immediately began to tremble in Ron's hands. Fred and George beamed as Ginny praised them, though Hermione seemed a little less enthusiastic after seeing some of the more dangerous jokes.
"They aren't that dangerous, 'Mione. They just have a risk of giving someone a little more than a scratch, if used. But they are charmed so people under eighteen cannot even activate them." George assured her, though it didn't seem to help, much.
"Harry, look at this!" Ginny called over. Harry went to her side and saw what looked like a normal lettuce leaf in her hand. But as Harry watched, she poked it with a small metal bar, and it spit a strange, dark jet of liquid into the air. The liquid then fell to the floor, and Harry noticed that Ginny was careful to avoid getting it on herself.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyes still on the black liquid, which was now turning invisible. Ginny grinned proudly.
"Squirting Food. It was my idea. The food squirts an innocent amount of that charmed ink at it's prey, and the ink them turns invisible. But its effects don't!" Ginny laughed. Harry moved nervously away from where the ink had landed.
"What does it do?" He asked hesitantly. Ginny smirked.
"That depends. It has several different hexes in it, but which one you get...that is the surprise." Ginny murmured, pointing to where the ink had once been. Harry jumped as he noticed a strange, green fuzz growing out of the floor, now.
"If it had been on a person, their hair would have changed that color. All the hair on their body would now be green." Ginny informed him. Harry chuckled.
"Sometimes, you scare me, Virginia Weasley." He said. Ginny laughed again and put down the lettuce.
"Ron? Ginny? Hermione, Harry? Time to go." Mrs. Weasley called, appearing in the doorway. There was a collected groan from everyone but Hermione.
"Aw, mum! Can't we stay here?" Ron pleaded.
"Ronald Weasley! You are a Prefect, and Prefects do not do senseless pranks. You shouldn't even be interested." Molly informed him, dragging poor Ron out of the shop, with Hermione close behind. Fred and George both shot disgusted looks at the closed door, but then turned to Ginny and Harry with grins.
"Take these. They're on us, and the bags are disguised to look like ones from the book shop." Fred hissed, shoving a bag into Harry's hands, and another into Ginny's. Harry shot them a smirk, before leaving the shop with Ginny close behind.
~*~*~*~
"I can't believe that Fred and George gave you those, and didn't' give me any." Ron complained, as he and Harry got ready for bed that night.
"Your mum had already dragged you out of the shop. And I'll share." Harry assured him. Ron grinned and gave a contented sigh as he collapsed into his bed.
"Tomorrow we're back to school!" He said eagerly. Harry grinned.
"Yup. Back to the same old homework, and teachers docking points, and..."
"Enough! Let me enjoy the thought of the feast! Don't remind me of the other stuff." Ron groaned, throwing a pillow over his head. Harry laughed, but then became serious.
"Who do you think the new DADA teacher is?" He asked. Ron shrugged.
"How should I know? But anyone's better than Umbridge, right?" He asked, not sounding sure at all. Harry nodded.
"I guess..."
"Harry, it's Hedwig." Ron said in a sleepy voice, pointing out the window. Harry looked up and saw a snowy-white blur heading towards them. Quickly, he bounded off his bed and opened the window, allowing his owl to come inside. After taking care of her, he turned to his letter. It had an official Hogwarts seal on it, which made Harry's heart race.
"What could they want?" He wondered aloud, opening the letter slowly. A feeling of dread swept over him, but it immediately disappeared as he began to read.
//Dear Mr. Potter:
I am writing to inform you that you have leave to continue the classes you began last year, in opposition to the Ministry's High Inquisitor, who will remain nameless.
There have been several letters written to me, by those involved in your organization, who wish to learn more under your instruction. They inform me that they learned more under you, then they have in their entire education, and wish to continue that way.
I must say that I agree. But I am leaving the decision up to you. Do you wish to continue teaching this class, or would you rather not?
This is your decision Harry, and no one else may make it for you. You may inform me of your decision tomorrow, in a private meeting in my office, after the feast.
Peace be with you in all that you do,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts//
"Harry." Ron breathed, his eyes wide and no longer tired. Harry stared down at the letter in amazement, and slight confusion.
"Letters? They have actually sent him letters, asking me to continue?" Harry asked in amazement. Ron blushed slightly and looked away.
"Well, we did learn a lot when you were teaching us, Harry..."
"Wait! You sent him a letter?"
"Hermione and Ginny did too. And I'm sure that some of the others did." Ron insisted. Harry sat back against his pillow, limp with surprise.
"You want me to continue teaching you?" He asked, half-thoughtfully. Ron nodded eagerly.
"Of course! You were even better than any of the DADA's...well, except Professor Lupin...and maybe that fake Mad Eye Moody." Ron said, rolling his eyes. Harry shook his head in shock.
"You want me to teach you."
"We went through this already, last year! Yes, we want you to teach us, mate!" Ron growled, sounding a bit proud of Harry. Harry sighed and took off his glasses, setting them on the bed-side table.
"I'll have to think about it. And don't tell anyone else, Ron. They can't make my decision for me." Harry insisted. Ron gave a tired nod, before turning out the light.
"G'night, Harry.
"Night, Ron."
~*~*~*~
***I want to say ahead of time, that there will be a sequel to this. But I would also like to announce that there will be a side-story as well.
The sequel will be mostly about the children of the Harry Potter generation, and their trials and tribulations.
The side-story will be about the one-and-only Draco Malfoy, but I can't give out much information about that, or else I'd give this entire story away! BUT I WILL PUT A SMALL PREVIEW AFTER THIS CHAPTER, IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SAMPLE!!!
So sit tight, and enjoy this chapter!***
~*~*~*~
The Phoenix's Prophesy
by: Daphne Li
Chapter 7.
~*~*~*~
Things had been strangely quiet around the Weasley house, since Harry's Birthday. Mr. Weasley had had more work than ever before, because of the new threat of Voldemort, so he had not been home most of the time.
Fred and George were immersed in inventing and selling more and more joke things, and were rarely seen, though they did come sometimes on weekends, just to assure their mother that they were alive. Charlie had returned to Romania (he still Apperated to visit), though Bill had decided to stay, giving him more time to give Fleur her 'private' lessons.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all been stepping lightly around Harry since his Birthday, usually sending him worried looks when he became 'overly' quiet. Mrs. Weasley had even begun to worry over him more, so there was rarely a moment where he was not alone, no matter how much he wanted it.
And he had still received no response from Rose. Hedwig had not returned, nor was there any sign of Kaya, who would have been the next logical choice.
So Harry obediently spent his time with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, whether it was playing Quidditch (Harry gave both Ron and Ginny chances to ride his broom), listening to Hermione drone on about some book, or playing endless games of Wizard's Chess with Ron.
Presently, Ron and Harry were on their thirtieth game this week.
"Check." Ron said in a bored voice. Harry rolled his eyes and caught Ginny's gaze. She grinned at him and shrugged.
"Big surprise." Harry mumbled, as he moved, and then Ron checkmated him.
"Harry? Isn't that Hedwig?" Hermione asked suddenly, gazing out the window. Harry turned sharply and let out a yelp, as his beautiful owl soared through the window and landed gracefully on Harry's chair, looking nothing short of tired. Harry gave her a quick pat, to show her that she was loved, and then pulled the letter off her leg and tore into it eagerly.
//Dear Harry:
I wish your Birthday hadn't ended like that. It must have been very upsetting. I wish I could have been there to hug you! But since I wasn't, I managed to figure out another way for you to vent, as well. Jackson, like you, lost Sirius, and lately he has been falling in and out of these moody depressions, just like yours. I think he'd like someone other than me to talk to, so I suggested you. He's agreed, but only if you promise not to laugh at him.
I promised him you wouldn't, so he's sending a letter by his own owl, Hercules (strange name, I know. But he got him just after watching Disney's 'Hercules', so I suppose it makes sense...).
Anyway, I miss you! I showed everyone a picture of you...Shirah thinks you're cute, Raya says you look kind, Shane grinned and asked if you like jokes, Jackson laughed and said that your hair looks like you just went through a hurricane, and Neville made some comment about your picture acting the same as you do in real life (the 'you' in the picture was trying to hide from view!).
Well, I'd better end this. Jackson's letter should be arriving soon after mine, so watch for a big eagle owl!
Love you lots,
Rose
P.S. Hercules likes to eat bacon, and lots of it. Do you think it would be asking too much if you feed him before sending him back? He tends to get a bit cranky if he hasn't eaten, and then Jackson gets a few peck-marks as 'thanks'.//
Harry chuckled as he read this, but quickly hid the letter as Ron tried to peer at it. He quickly rolled it up and stuck it into his pocket, ignoring the significant looks Ron, Hermione, and Ginny shot at each other.
There was soon another loud hoot, and another owl swooped into the room, this one much bigger. It settled itself on the other side of Harry's chair, and regally held out it's leg so Harry could retrieve it's letter.
"Thank you, Hercules." Harry murmured, petting the owl. Without reading it, he placed the rolled up parchment into his pocket, and then quickly went to ask Mrs. Weasley for some bacon to give to Hercules, ignoring the confused looks his friends sent to him.
~*~*~*~
Harry waited until Ron was fast asleep that night, before reading Jackson's letter. He read it by the full-moon light, that was shinning into Ron's room through the window.
//Dear Harry:
This is sort of new and strange to me, so I am going right to the point.
Rose tells me that you are having some problems coping with...Dad's death. I'll admit, I am too. It is really hard, knowing your father for the first time in your thirteen years of life, and then loosing him two years later.
It is also hard that I wasn't there with him when he died. I still feel guilty about that. You see, dad invited me over to visit him, since my school ends earlier than yours. But I refused, because a bunch of my friends were going to the beach and I wanted to go with them. Then, when I get home, mom's crying, I see a letter on the floor near her, so naturally I read it. And it turns out my dad was killed, right at the time I could have been there to prevent it.
In his letter when he invited me, he told me that he was lonely. He told me he wanted to see me again. But I was selfish and went with my friends anyway, completely ignoring the man I had come to call 'dad'.
I shouldn't have done that, Harry. I should have been there for him when he died. I could have stopped it, I know I could have. But I wasn't there.
(Here there were several wrinkle marks, almost like someone had splattered water...or tears, on the page.)
And now all I have left, is the guilt that *I* was the one who truly led him to die. He wouldn't have died if I had been there. I have dreams about it every night, that he is still with me, and everything's all right. But then something happens in those dreams and dad disappears. The dreams scare me a little, but don't tell anyone. What if they're showing me a future that I could have had with my dad, but ruined because of that one choice? What if they're showing me that dad was angry about my refusing to come? What if he was hurt by it?
I think I'll end here. I've already dumped enough of my problems on you. And you don't have to write back if you don't want to. I'd understand.
But remember Harry. I miss dad, too. I miss him a lot.
Sincerely yours,
Jackson McBride-Black//
Harry felt a prickling around his eyes again, and blinked back a wave of wetness that filled them. He knew then, what he had to do...what he wanted to do.
He was going to write to Jackson. Jackson understood exactly how Harry was feeling, and Harry understood Jackson's guilt, as well. They were kindred sprits, in a way.
With a sigh, Harry quickly stashed the letter beneath his pillow, swiped his hand across his eyes quickly, to make sure there was no extra water there, and then lay down to sleep.
He didn't notice that Ron's eyes were slightly slitted, and staring right at him the entire time.
~*~*~*~
"Harry? Do you want to go play a game of Quidditch?" Ron asked hesitantly the next morning, as they were finishing up with breakfast. Harry shook his head.
"I...I have something I have to do, Ron. You go ahead." Harry suggested, eyeing the twins who had just arrived from their shop. Ron looked a bit upset, but nodded and quickly left the table, to get his broom. Ginny had not yet come downstairs, and Hermione was already buried in one of her huge school-books.
"Harry, dear? Are you all right?" Molly asked worriedly, putting a hand to Harry's forehead. Harry smiled at her concern.
"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley. I just have to write a few letters." Harry informed her, getting up from the table and heading up to Ron's room. When there, he made short time in getting out his writing things, and retrieving Jackson's letter from beneath his pillow.
//Dear Jackson:
Actually, I would like to write back to you, which I am sure is obvious to you, by now. ^__^
I can understand the guilt you're feeling...but it's *not* your fault, whatsoever. In fact, I am sure that if you had been there, you would have only joined in on the 'party', and then you would have been killed, too. But it is like someone once told me. If Sirius had to die, he would have rather died battling, then sitting on his butt doing nothing.
I know it is no use, telling you its not your fault. I doesn't work on me, and if you are anything like your dad, it sure as hell won't work on you. But I will say this. Sirius would have rather had you live, then die with him. And I have a feeling that he may have been hurt at first, but I am sure that faded into relief when he had to come rescue...me and my friends. I don't think he would have wanted you there.
And your dreams aren't that strange. I have similar ones, though they also have other people I have known, leaving me as well. I suppose it is a normal part of this thing, but it sure isn't pretty.
You know, our letters have been sort of...morbid, lately. Perhaps we'd better try looking at the lighter side of things. Maybe that would make this whole ordeal seem a lot less painful for the both of us.
All right, now that that's settled, how are things in America? Is Neville behaving himself? Have you tipped over any more hot-dog stands? (I don't really know what this is about, but Neville's grandmother mentioned it when I met them at the airport. Perhaps you could explain?)
Well, I'd better go. Everyone here is starting to think I'm going into mourning, and Mrs. Weasley keeps fussing over me at any moment possible. I don't want them to think I've committed suicide! ^__^
Like Shane, I never know what to put here,
~Harry//
Harry read his letter over, feeling strangely satisfied and lighter, now that he was sharing his feelings with not only Rose, but Jackson as well. With a small smile, he folded his letter, addressed it, and then handed it to Hedwig, who flew off into the afternoon.
"Harry?" Came a soft voice from the doorway. For some reason, Harry had the insane urge to laugh in relief, but why, he had no idea.
"Come on in, Ginny." He called, still staring out the window. He heard the door open cautiously, and could feel Ginny's hesitant gaze on his back.
"Are you all right, Harry? How come you're not out playing with Ron, Fred, and George?" Ginny asked gently. Harry smiled.
"Why aren't you out there? And I'm fine!" He stated, turning around. Ginny stared at him for a moment, looking even more confused.
"How come you're so happy?" She asked, a bit stiffly. Harry chuckled.
"Lets just say, I got a load off my back, and leave it at that. Why are you still here?" Harry repeated. Ginny looked at the floor, her eyes darkening.
"I was worried about you. Mum said that you had come up here after breakfast, and she hadn't seen you since."
"I am *fine*, Ginny. Why can't I convince anyone that I AM FINE?!?! Really, I am." Harry exclaimed, sinking down onto his bed and falling back against the pillow. Ginny giggled and settled herself by his feet.
"I know you are fine. But you still have those bouts of depression..."
"As do you." Harry shot back. Ginny looked at him in confusion, and then growing alarm.
"What?"
"You may be able to hide them from your family, but I can see when you are thinking about your...ordeals. You are no better then me! Now I'll ask you. Who have you spoken to? Who have you confided in to get all that crap out of your system?" He asked. Ginny's eyes lowered again.
"No one..."
"Exactly. You, and everyone else for that matter, have tried to get me to open up. And when I tell you I have (just not to you), you don't believe me. But you...you've never done anything, when I have. Therefore, that makes you a hypocrite, Ginny." Harry informed her. Ginny winced and Harry could see her mentally withdrawing from him. She slowly turned away and looked like she was about to try to leave the room.
"Oh, no you don't. I've shared my problems with somebody, now it's your turn to share yours with somebody." Harry insisted, shooting up and grabbing her arm. Ginny stared at him in shock, for a moment, then sighed.
"Who have you told, Harry? Who? And why should I believe you?" She asked, a bit sharply. Harry smirked.
"I've told Rose and Jackson. In fact, I sent Jackson a letter, just before you came in." Harry explained. Ginny raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him, and Harry sighed.
"Fine, you want proof? Here's your proof." Harry said, pulling Rose's letter out of his pocket and handing it to her. Ginny read it quickly, and then looked up at him.
"Why do you trust them? Why do you trust them above us, the people who are *supposed* to be your friends?" She asked, her eyes shining with tears. Harry sighed again and put a hand on Ginny's arm.
"I do trust you...all of you...but there are some things that I feel more comfortable sharing with people who understand what I've been through..."
"I understand! I understand better then they do!" Ginny cried, her eyes filling with hurt. Harry groaned softly, feeling guilt rush into his chest.
"Do you? Do you, Ginny?" He asked gently, getting up and walking over to his trunk, from which he pulled a large photo album.
"Look at this. Tell me what you see." Harry murmured, opening to a certain page and pointing at a picture. Ginny looked, and her mouth formed a small 'o'.
"That's your mother!" She gasped. Harry nodded.
"And my father, and Sirius, Remus, Peter, and May. They were all friends at Hogwarts. This was taken just before their graduation." Harry murmured. The figures in the picture were waving and smiling up at them, Sirius occasionally making peace signs and such. Harry allowed Ginny to get a good look at the photo, before turning to one of the last full pages of the book.
"And now, who are they? Look really closely." Harry commanded, pointing at another picture. Ginny looked, a frown appearing on her face.
"Your mother and Sirius..."
"No, Ginny. You didn't get a good look at the picture. They are not my mother and Sirius. That's Rose and Jackson." He informed her. Ginny caught her breath and stared at the picture with wide eyes. It was a photo Rose had sent with one of her latest letters. It showed her and Jackson, sitting side by side on a large, Victorian-like porch-swing, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
"That's Rose?" She asked in a shaky voice. Harry nodded.
"I told you she looks like my mum. But who does Jackson look like, Ginny?"
"Sirius."
"Exactly. Now can you guess why I am writing him? He lost Sirius, too. He also lost his father in the process." Harry murmured. Ginny choked.
"Jackson? Sirius had a son? Why didn't he ever say anything?" Ginny asked softly.
"Because. Telling everyone that he had a son would endanger both Jackson and Sirius's wife, May. Voldemort might try to come after them, and if not them, Rose, whom May adopted when Rose was just a baby." Harry explained. Ginny nodded, trying to take it all in.
"But why tell Rose?" She asked in a weak voice. Harry smiled.
"I was telling the truth, Ginny, when I told everyone that I didn't like Rose like that. The truth is, she is more like a...sister to me. When she was staying with the Dursleys, and found out my secret, she didn't treat me like a celebrity. She didn't goggle at my scar or ask for my autograph. She just wanted to comfort me. And she did. We became close, and I felt more willing to tell her anything, then anyone else."
"Why, though?" Ginny asked. Harry shrugged.
"I love your family, Ginny. I love them all. But you have to admit that they worry over me a little too much, and if your mother ever found out about my true problems, she would go crazy, trying to coddle me. I don't want that. I don't want pity, and I don't want to be babied. I just want someone to listen, who would understand my problems and not try to make it all seem like it is just a childish problem." Harry explained. Ginny nodded.
"I think I understand. I feel the same way. The only people I have to confide in are my family, and my friends at school. But none of them would ever really take me seriously." She whispered. Harry smiled.
"You see? Now you know why I don't want to share everything with your family. I truly to trust them, Ginny, but I need something more than that. I need someone who understands."
"You just trusted me with it." Ginny said, her voice growing sly. Harry froze, realizing what she said was true, and then chuckled.
"I suppose I did. And you trusted me with yours, so now we're even. But Ginny, promise me. Promise me you won't worry over me any more. I'm fine, really." Harry assured. Ginny nodded and gazed back down at the picture.
"She is so pretty." She murmured, almost jealously, as she ran a gentle finger over Rose's image. Harry laughed and turned to a page with Ginny's picture.
"She said the same thing about you, when she saw yours. She really wants to get to know you, Gin." Harry informed her, causing Ginny to blush a bit.
"I'd like that." She whispered, looking at her picture. Harry smiled.
"Truce?" He asked, holding out a hand. Ginny pretended to be thinking it over, then she nodded.
"Truce." She murmured, placing her hand into Harry's.
Both tried to ignore the strange tingle that ran through their bodies as their hands met, and shook.
~*~*~*~
"Diagon Alley?! You mean, we get to go? Really?!" Ron exclaimed a two weeks later, when his mother announced that she was taking them to get their school supplies. Their school letters had arrived the day before, but none of them had expected to be able to go, because of the newest threats of Voldemort.
"Yes. But I'm warning you. There will be people from the you-know-what, watching your every move, so don't try to pull anything funny." Mrs. Weasley shot a look at Ginny, who giggled.
"We won't, mum." Ron insisted, bounding up the stairs to get ready. Harry quickly followed, his eyes twinkling. It had been three years since he had seen Diagon Alley, and he was eager to see if it had changed any.
"You all right there, Harry?" Ron asked, as Harry was slipping on a robe. Harry turned with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm FINE, Ron!" He managed, as Ron shot him a funny look.
"Any more letters, lately?" Ron asked, looking curious. Harry grinned.
"Several. Some from Rose, some from Jackson, one from Neville, a few from Ginny..."
"WHAT?!?!" Ron shouted, his ears turning red. Harry chuckled.
"Calm down, mate! I was only joking...Neville sent me two." He stated, dashing out of the room before Ron could make another sound. Ginny was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking pensive.
"What did you do, now?"
"He asked me if I had gotten any letters recently, and I told him that Rose, Jackson, Neville, and you had sent me some."
"WHAT?!" Ginny cried, looking as if she was about to laugh. Harry grinned.
"Can you believe that he actually thought I was serious about you writing?" Harry asked, as Ron came stomping down the stairs, shooting death-glares at Harry. The two at the bottom burst into laughter.
"I was just joking about Ginny, Ron. She didn't write me anything, truly." Harry assured. Ron's face returned to it's normal color, but he was still frowning.
"Don't you ever joke like that again, Harry. It's not funny." Ron said in a serious voice, before brushing past him and going into the living room. Harry stared after him, confused.
"What did I do?"
"Don't ask. Ron never makes sense." Ginny sighed, as the two of them followed Ron.
~*~*~*~
"I thought I would never see this place again!" Ron groaned in ecstasy, leaning back in his chair. He, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny were all seated around a table at the ice-cream parlor, eating their ice-cream with vigor.
They had finished their shopping, but Mrs. Weasley had a few more errands to run before they left, so the group had decided to go for ice-cream, and then visit Fred and George's shop while they waited.
"You thought you would never see it?" Harry asked, spooning another spoonful of the icy treat into his mouth and closing his eyes in contentment. Hermione and Ginny giggled, as they watched the boys unceremoniously eat through their deserts as fast as possible.
"Right! Ready to go?" Ron asked eagerly, as he watched the girls finish their ice-cream. Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ginny gave a happy squeal and nodded. As they walked towards the joke shop, Harry felt freer than he had ever felt in his life. Sure, Voldemort was on the loose, people were slowly dying here and there...but it wasn't directly effecting Harry, or the people he cared about, yet. And that was a load off his shoulders.
"HARRY! GINNY! RON, HERMIONE!" Came two voices as the four entered the shop. Fred and George bounded in front of them before they could even see much of anything, and ushered the group further into the store.
"What do you think? We had some help from Angelina, who helped with the design, but the rest was us!" Fred explained, as he motioned around the large room. Harry had to admit that it was even better than the joke shop in Hogsmede.
The all four of the walls were littered with shelves of joke items. There were also shelves and tables placed carefully around the shop, filled with rubber chickens (most likely enchanted ones), and other larger items. There was a long counter at the far end of the room, with a cash-register on it, and behind the counter were more shelves, though these seemed to be filled with more dangerous pranks and such.
"Wow! This is bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, picking up a rubber chicken which immediately began to tremble in Ron's hands. Fred and George beamed as Ginny praised them, though Hermione seemed a little less enthusiastic after seeing some of the more dangerous jokes.
"They aren't that dangerous, 'Mione. They just have a risk of giving someone a little more than a scratch, if used. But they are charmed so people under eighteen cannot even activate them." George assured her, though it didn't seem to help, much.
"Harry, look at this!" Ginny called over. Harry went to her side and saw what looked like a normal lettuce leaf in her hand. But as Harry watched, she poked it with a small metal bar, and it spit a strange, dark jet of liquid into the air. The liquid then fell to the floor, and Harry noticed that Ginny was careful to avoid getting it on herself.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyes still on the black liquid, which was now turning invisible. Ginny grinned proudly.
"Squirting Food. It was my idea. The food squirts an innocent amount of that charmed ink at it's prey, and the ink them turns invisible. But its effects don't!" Ginny laughed. Harry moved nervously away from where the ink had landed.
"What does it do?" He asked hesitantly. Ginny smirked.
"That depends. It has several different hexes in it, but which one you get...that is the surprise." Ginny murmured, pointing to where the ink had once been. Harry jumped as he noticed a strange, green fuzz growing out of the floor, now.
"If it had been on a person, their hair would have changed that color. All the hair on their body would now be green." Ginny informed him. Harry chuckled.
"Sometimes, you scare me, Virginia Weasley." He said. Ginny laughed again and put down the lettuce.
"Ron? Ginny? Hermione, Harry? Time to go." Mrs. Weasley called, appearing in the doorway. There was a collected groan from everyone but Hermione.
"Aw, mum! Can't we stay here?" Ron pleaded.
"Ronald Weasley! You are a Prefect, and Prefects do not do senseless pranks. You shouldn't even be interested." Molly informed him, dragging poor Ron out of the shop, with Hermione close behind. Fred and George both shot disgusted looks at the closed door, but then turned to Ginny and Harry with grins.
"Take these. They're on us, and the bags are disguised to look like ones from the book shop." Fred hissed, shoving a bag into Harry's hands, and another into Ginny's. Harry shot them a smirk, before leaving the shop with Ginny close behind.
~*~*~*~
"I can't believe that Fred and George gave you those, and didn't' give me any." Ron complained, as he and Harry got ready for bed that night.
"Your mum had already dragged you out of the shop. And I'll share." Harry assured him. Ron grinned and gave a contented sigh as he collapsed into his bed.
"Tomorrow we're back to school!" He said eagerly. Harry grinned.
"Yup. Back to the same old homework, and teachers docking points, and..."
"Enough! Let me enjoy the thought of the feast! Don't remind me of the other stuff." Ron groaned, throwing a pillow over his head. Harry laughed, but then became serious.
"Who do you think the new DADA teacher is?" He asked. Ron shrugged.
"How should I know? But anyone's better than Umbridge, right?" He asked, not sounding sure at all. Harry nodded.
"I guess..."
"Harry, it's Hedwig." Ron said in a sleepy voice, pointing out the window. Harry looked up and saw a snowy-white blur heading towards them. Quickly, he bounded off his bed and opened the window, allowing his owl to come inside. After taking care of her, he turned to his letter. It had an official Hogwarts seal on it, which made Harry's heart race.
"What could they want?" He wondered aloud, opening the letter slowly. A feeling of dread swept over him, but it immediately disappeared as he began to read.
//Dear Mr. Potter:
I am writing to inform you that you have leave to continue the classes you began last year, in opposition to the Ministry's High Inquisitor, who will remain nameless.
There have been several letters written to me, by those involved in your organization, who wish to learn more under your instruction. They inform me that they learned more under you, then they have in their entire education, and wish to continue that way.
I must say that I agree. But I am leaving the decision up to you. Do you wish to continue teaching this class, or would you rather not?
This is your decision Harry, and no one else may make it for you. You may inform me of your decision tomorrow, in a private meeting in my office, after the feast.
Peace be with you in all that you do,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts//
"Harry." Ron breathed, his eyes wide and no longer tired. Harry stared down at the letter in amazement, and slight confusion.
"Letters? They have actually sent him letters, asking me to continue?" Harry asked in amazement. Ron blushed slightly and looked away.
"Well, we did learn a lot when you were teaching us, Harry..."
"Wait! You sent him a letter?"
"Hermione and Ginny did too. And I'm sure that some of the others did." Ron insisted. Harry sat back against his pillow, limp with surprise.
"You want me to continue teaching you?" He asked, half-thoughtfully. Ron nodded eagerly.
"Of course! You were even better than any of the DADA's...well, except Professor Lupin...and maybe that fake Mad Eye Moody." Ron said, rolling his eyes. Harry shook his head in shock.
"You want me to teach you."
"We went through this already, last year! Yes, we want you to teach us, mate!" Ron growled, sounding a bit proud of Harry. Harry sighed and took off his glasses, setting them on the bed-side table.
"I'll have to think about it. And don't tell anyone else, Ron. They can't make my decision for me." Harry insisted. Ron gave a tired nod, before turning out the light.
"G'night, Harry.
"Night, Ron."
~*~*~*~