Birthday Surprises Chapter 26
Usual disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue. Please. Wish it were mine though. Ah, if only. Lolly, xxx.
"Harry? Is Professor Dumbledore gone?"
"Yeah. He went about five minutes ago." Harry replied, he was sitting on his bed, looking mildly confused.
"Are you alright?" Remus asked in concern.
"What? Yes, I'm fine." Harry said.
"Would you mind if I had a look at one of your books?"
"No, go ahead." Harry shrugged. He seemed to snap out of his preoccupation and watched in interest as Remus pulled out the family book.
"Oh yeah, I meant to thank you for that, Hermione. It's really good."
"You're welcome. I thought you might like some information on your family." Remus meanwhile, had blanched.
"What's wrong? Remus?"
"Great Merlin." Remus muttered. "You found this in America?"
"Yeah."
"Hermione, you have managed to find the Potter copy. By all rights, this was Harry's to begin with. This writing. I remember, James wrote it in seventh year, just before graduation." Harry's eyes had gone very large.
"What do you mean, the Potter copy?"
"Well, each one of these families had one copy of this book. There were no other copies. James wrote a note in the cover of his. Other families would never dream of doing such a thing, but the Potters didn't mind - they weren't as stuffy as the others. Having pure blood was, for them, of little importance. They didn't care what type of blood a person had, just as long as they were good people."
"I.my dad wrote in the book?"
"Yes. Sirius couldn't believe it. He said that if he'd written in his families book, they would've chopped his hands off."
"Nice." Harry muttered. "So what happened to the Black copy of the book?" "Sirius burnt it after getting out of Azkaban. He despised it. His was full of bad memories. Your father treasured his copy. He would be glad that you have it."
"Thanks." Harry murmured. He looked at the book as if it were made of gold - but then, Harry had plenty of gold, and this would mean much, much more than any amount of gold.
***
Harry had memorised the inscription before he had known that his father wrote it. He had read the book several times before, but he read it again, drinking in the information that it gave - he had noticed that the book did go into slightly more information on the Potters, but he had overlooked it. Now he knew the reason why - this book had belonged to the Potters. His father had written in it. He read aloud to Sam, having the little boy's undivided attention.
***
Having finished the book, Harry put it into his bedside table, beside the dagger and the crystal, as well as all of his other birthday presents and the things that he considered to be precious. His fingers brushed the hilt of the dagger, and he lifted it to inspect it. It had an intricately carved handle, made of pewter, he thought, or perhaps silver. The blade was about fifteen centimetres long, and very sharp. He put it down as he put Sam back into the cot, before picking it up again. He held it in his hand. It was quite heavy, but not excessively so. When he was putting it back into the drawer, he spotted something. The book was glowing ever so slightly. Harry flicked through the pages thoughtfully - there was nothing new. In the next moment, he was sweeping the dagger across the pages, reading the green writing that was neatly written over the printed words. The handwriting was different to his fathers, but was similar.
***
"Hermione!" Harry cried, his eyes wide with excitement. Hermione looked slightly worried, but followed him back to his room.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing, I've just found something in that book."
"What?"
"Writing - over the pages. Handwriting."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'll show you, come and look." Harry sat down on his bed, picking up the dagger and the book. Hermione had paled at the sight of the dagger, her eyes wide and fearful.
"Harry - where did you get that knife?" She asked.
"It's a dagger. Hagrid gave me it for my birthday. Look." Harry ran the dagger over the page, making the writing appear again.
"Oh my word - that's not a dagger, that's an athame. It's a ceremonial dagger. They're very sacred. They can be used to reveal hidden things - especially writing. This is a Book of Shadows - look, it's like a diary. I've heard of these, but have never seen one." Hermione was in heaven - she had never dreamed that she would get to read a Potter Book of Shadows.
"Have you read this?" She asked, her eyes scanning the page. It was signed at the end by Orion Potter.
"Yeah - that's my great-great-great-great granddad." Harry said.
"Oh. Where did all of these pages come from? There weren't this many before."
"I know. They just sort of.appeared. Anyway, this book does span over five generations. Each generation wrote at least once a week for their lifetimes - that's gonna take a lot of space, don't you think?"
"Yeah - this is amazing. You could learn so much! Can you imagine?"
"This was an amazing birthday present, thank you." Harry said. He looked Hermione straight in the eye, his eyes bright with happiness. Hermione gave him a hug, feeling glad that she had given him what he had never had - knowledge of his family.
"You're welcome. Are you going to add your story to the end?"
"I might. I'm not sure."
"You should you know, save it for your kids. Keep it going."
"Hmm."
"Don't even think that you might not have kids - you're going to beat him, you know. Then you'll be free to do whatever you want to do." Hermione said. Harry looked at the book in her hands. He wanted to believe her so much that it hurt, but.it wasn't black and white anymore. Everything rested on two people - him and Voldemort.
"Yeah, maybe." Harry muttered. "We'll see."
"Harry - are you absolutely sure that the triplets aren't yours? I mean - they look like you, and there is a history of triplets in your family - your grandfather was a triplet."
"We've been through this before - several times. The only way I'm their father, is if someone used a memory charm on me. I'm pretty sure that my memory hasn't been altered in the past year or so."
"But.you don't know. There is a way to test, you know. A simple charm to run through the spells put on you in the past year or so."
"I take it you want to do the honours." Harry muttered. Hermione nodded, pulling her wand.
Usual disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue. Please. Wish it were mine though. Ah, if only. Lolly, xxx.
"Harry? Is Professor Dumbledore gone?"
"Yeah. He went about five minutes ago." Harry replied, he was sitting on his bed, looking mildly confused.
"Are you alright?" Remus asked in concern.
"What? Yes, I'm fine." Harry said.
"Would you mind if I had a look at one of your books?"
"No, go ahead." Harry shrugged. He seemed to snap out of his preoccupation and watched in interest as Remus pulled out the family book.
"Oh yeah, I meant to thank you for that, Hermione. It's really good."
"You're welcome. I thought you might like some information on your family." Remus meanwhile, had blanched.
"What's wrong? Remus?"
"Great Merlin." Remus muttered. "You found this in America?"
"Yeah."
"Hermione, you have managed to find the Potter copy. By all rights, this was Harry's to begin with. This writing. I remember, James wrote it in seventh year, just before graduation." Harry's eyes had gone very large.
"What do you mean, the Potter copy?"
"Well, each one of these families had one copy of this book. There were no other copies. James wrote a note in the cover of his. Other families would never dream of doing such a thing, but the Potters didn't mind - they weren't as stuffy as the others. Having pure blood was, for them, of little importance. They didn't care what type of blood a person had, just as long as they were good people."
"I.my dad wrote in the book?"
"Yes. Sirius couldn't believe it. He said that if he'd written in his families book, they would've chopped his hands off."
"Nice." Harry muttered. "So what happened to the Black copy of the book?" "Sirius burnt it after getting out of Azkaban. He despised it. His was full of bad memories. Your father treasured his copy. He would be glad that you have it."
"Thanks." Harry murmured. He looked at the book as if it were made of gold - but then, Harry had plenty of gold, and this would mean much, much more than any amount of gold.
***
Harry had memorised the inscription before he had known that his father wrote it. He had read the book several times before, but he read it again, drinking in the information that it gave - he had noticed that the book did go into slightly more information on the Potters, but he had overlooked it. Now he knew the reason why - this book had belonged to the Potters. His father had written in it. He read aloud to Sam, having the little boy's undivided attention.
***
Having finished the book, Harry put it into his bedside table, beside the dagger and the crystal, as well as all of his other birthday presents and the things that he considered to be precious. His fingers brushed the hilt of the dagger, and he lifted it to inspect it. It had an intricately carved handle, made of pewter, he thought, or perhaps silver. The blade was about fifteen centimetres long, and very sharp. He put it down as he put Sam back into the cot, before picking it up again. He held it in his hand. It was quite heavy, but not excessively so. When he was putting it back into the drawer, he spotted something. The book was glowing ever so slightly. Harry flicked through the pages thoughtfully - there was nothing new. In the next moment, he was sweeping the dagger across the pages, reading the green writing that was neatly written over the printed words. The handwriting was different to his fathers, but was similar.
***
"Hermione!" Harry cried, his eyes wide with excitement. Hermione looked slightly worried, but followed him back to his room.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing, I've just found something in that book."
"What?"
"Writing - over the pages. Handwriting."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'll show you, come and look." Harry sat down on his bed, picking up the dagger and the book. Hermione had paled at the sight of the dagger, her eyes wide and fearful.
"Harry - where did you get that knife?" She asked.
"It's a dagger. Hagrid gave me it for my birthday. Look." Harry ran the dagger over the page, making the writing appear again.
"Oh my word - that's not a dagger, that's an athame. It's a ceremonial dagger. They're very sacred. They can be used to reveal hidden things - especially writing. This is a Book of Shadows - look, it's like a diary. I've heard of these, but have never seen one." Hermione was in heaven - she had never dreamed that she would get to read a Potter Book of Shadows.
"Have you read this?" She asked, her eyes scanning the page. It was signed at the end by Orion Potter.
"Yeah - that's my great-great-great-great granddad." Harry said.
"Oh. Where did all of these pages come from? There weren't this many before."
"I know. They just sort of.appeared. Anyway, this book does span over five generations. Each generation wrote at least once a week for their lifetimes - that's gonna take a lot of space, don't you think?"
"Yeah - this is amazing. You could learn so much! Can you imagine?"
"This was an amazing birthday present, thank you." Harry said. He looked Hermione straight in the eye, his eyes bright with happiness. Hermione gave him a hug, feeling glad that she had given him what he had never had - knowledge of his family.
"You're welcome. Are you going to add your story to the end?"
"I might. I'm not sure."
"You should you know, save it for your kids. Keep it going."
"Hmm."
"Don't even think that you might not have kids - you're going to beat him, you know. Then you'll be free to do whatever you want to do." Hermione said. Harry looked at the book in her hands. He wanted to believe her so much that it hurt, but.it wasn't black and white anymore. Everything rested on two people - him and Voldemort.
"Yeah, maybe." Harry muttered. "We'll see."
"Harry - are you absolutely sure that the triplets aren't yours? I mean - they look like you, and there is a history of triplets in your family - your grandfather was a triplet."
"We've been through this before - several times. The only way I'm their father, is if someone used a memory charm on me. I'm pretty sure that my memory hasn't been altered in the past year or so."
"But.you don't know. There is a way to test, you know. A simple charm to run through the spells put on you in the past year or so."
"I take it you want to do the honours." Harry muttered. Hermione nodded, pulling her wand.
