A/n: WOW! Chapter FIVE! This may be the first story I ever finish, thanks to the awesome reviews. It's not going to end for a while, though, I promise you. By the way, I am currently looking for a beta-reader to edit my stories for Fiction Alley. If anyone could help me out, please drop me a line:
dragonprincess1788hotmail.com
Now, to answer some questions from my reviewers:
fan- I promise, we get to the dancing soon! (I've been practicing what moves Ginny's going to do in front of my mirror. lol.)
Alaskenchick- I don't think Maxime got mad at Hagrid, she just wasn't able to cope with Grawp. Good question.
Adora aka Ginny Drama-Ginny's not sick, I promise!
terggirl99-hey, that's a good idea. Poor short Harry, indeed. -evil grin-
koonelli-this story is set in the summer before Harry starts 6th year.
Avoir-you would think so, wouldn't you? I gave it to Harry b/c Sirius was best man at James' wedding and it's a neat way for Harry to honor him…and b/c Dumblydore already has a certain role in the wedding…heheheh.
Special thanx to the wonderful JamieBell, Nightwing 509, Carmel March (love ur name!), and cherryblossom08 for constantly reviewing!
On with the story, then!
C H A P T E R F I V E
A very flustered-looking owl shot down the chimney during Harry's solitary breakfast exactly ten days after Lupin's promise. The owl immediately dropped its letter near Harry's orange juice and fluttered back into the air, obviously looking for something.
Chewing morosely, as one often would with a distraught barn owl flapping over their head, Harry was quite surprised to see a flash of snowy-white enter the room. The barn owl gave a great hoot of pleasure and crashed into Hedwig with ecstasy.
Not at all keen to be in a room with two lovesick birds, said owner of Hedwig placed his dishes in the sink, picked up his letter, and sauntered into the parlor. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley barely acknowledged his presence; they were too busy pinning Hermione's dress for the wedding. Harry settled into a chair and read
To Mr. Harry Potter:
I have received you and Ms. Ginerva Weasley's requests regarding a short stay at Hogwarts. After careful consideration, the Headmaster and myself have agreed to approve them. You will both arrive by Portkey on July 29, which will be organized by Remus Lupin, and stay until August 10.
Due to the lack of staff members and the nature of your requests, you and Ms. Weasley are confined to the Quidditch Pitch, Gryffindor Tower, the kitchens, my classroom, and the Headmaster's office. Other "roaming privileges" may be granted upon request. More instructions will be given at the time of your arrival.
Trusting you will pass the message to Ms. Weasley, and looking forward to seeing you soon,
Professor M. McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
"Oh, Hermione!" sighed Ginny, entering the room casually but letting her eyes flick to Harry. And he was visited by a strange thought: Ginny knew she was supposed to be here. "You look beautiful!"
Hermione hopped off the stool she had been standing on and gave a little twirl.
"Don't you just love the color?" she asked.
"It's lovely," replied Ginny adoringly, marking the page in her book with a finger and plucking at Hermione's crimson sleeve. "Go Gryffindor!"
"Why don't you go fetch your shoes, Hermione, and we'll see if the length works?" Mrs. Weasley said through a mouthful of pins. Hermione picked up the skirt of the dress and trotted away.
"Goodness! My pie!" Off scurried Mrs. Weasley.
Harry yawned, stretched, and got up from his armchair. "Well, I need to go get that Transfiguration essay done, or McGonagall will have my head." And brushing his arm ever so slightly against hers, he slipped the letter into her book.
---
"Twelve!"
"Thirteen!"
"Fourteen!"
"Fifteen!"
"SIXTEEN!"
"And one to grow on," smirked Ginny, pummeling Harry in the head once more—with a pillow, of course. She, Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione decided to attack him as an early birthday present, considering he would be at Hogwarts on the 31st.
"It's going to be lonely without you and Ginny, Harry," Hermione said kindly.
"Thirteen days at Luna's…What was I thinking?" Ginny groaned, giving Harry a small wink.
"Horrible, that you have to be with McGonagall during the holiday," sympathized Ron sadly.
"But it is for a good cause, Ron. The sooner he can Apparate, the better. It might come in handy during…" Hermione's voice faded away, aberrantly unsure.
"Mum's throwing you a party tonight, so we'll still get to eat cake and do presents and stuff," said Fred quickly.
George sniggered. "If you were us and we were you, we'd be careful about what we're bringing for us…" he broke off, confused.
Fred slapped his forehead. "Sit down before you hurt yourself," he said seriously, leading George to a chair. "What George means is be wary of a gift from two joke shop owners."
And they Disapparated without further ado.
"We've got to be going, too," Ginny stated, nudging Ron and Hermione. "Come one, both of you."
"See you soon, Harry."
---
Several hours later, Harry found himself in the basement kitchen, people mingling about much like last summer's celebration of Ron and Hermione as Prefects.
Mrs. Weasley certainly had made an effort to make the dreary room festive. There were gold and green streamers adorning the ceiling, balloons of every color, sweets and drinks piled attractively on a long table, and, right in the center, a large chocolate cake coated in green icing—Happy 16th Birthday, Harry! written in gold.
The dining table was nowhere in sight. Instead, several mismatched chairs and tables were scattered among one half of the room; the other was space for a makeshift dance floor. Fred and George were manning the music equipment, and many people were dancing.
Hagrid and Maxime were moving cautiously but stylishly, clearly enjoying themselves; Professor McGonagall was hand-jiving with none other than whom Harry called his guest of honor:
Professor Severus Snape.
He was here by force, naturally, and upon speaking to Harry informed him McGonagall and Dumbledore had wrangled him here with promises of food. Harry was merely the reason the food was prepared.
Tonks and Lupin were two-stepping; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley dancing so energetically there was no doubt in anyone's mind where Fred had gotten his moves for the Yule Ball two years ago; Dumbledore, who could only stay for a short while, was pirouetting Hermione.
Harry, however, was on a couch between Ron and Ginny, butterbeer clutched in each of their hands, cracking up at a joke Ron had just told. Their laughter was helped along by the small touch of firewhiskey George had trickled in their drinks.
Just one drop!
"…So, anyway, I says to Malfoy, says I… 'bugger off...ferret boy!" The three of them burst out into such raucous peals of laughter that Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Dodge, Mundungus Fletcher, and Bill Weasley looked up from their poker game in shock.
Fred took this small opportunity to slip his siblings and the birthday boy a Drunkenness Drainer, one of his more practical Wheezes.
"Ooh, look! Candy!" cried Fred excitedly.
"Where?" asked Harry, Ginny, and Ron. Halfway through their question, Fred shoved the sweets in their open mouths.
The three of them stayed happily sober from then on. Fred, though, was having to pay for his brother's prank with Ginny on the dance floor, which Harry and Ron tactfully avoided.
That is, until Hermione came over.
"Dumbledore's just left, he told me to tell you, Harry. He hopes you enjoy his present," she said, wriggling onto the couch.
"So…" she trailed off, not looking at them. "I'm left without a partner…"
Harry, still feeling a little, shall we say, tipsy (or brave, your choice), was about to comment on the odd way Ron was evading eye contact with Hermione when Mrs. Weasley bustled over.
"Harry, dear, it's time to cut the cake!"
Harry stood up and followed Mrs. Weasley to his cake, where sixteen candles burned elegantly. The crowd of people was slowly making its way to the table as well, and when everyone was settled, Mr. Weasley counted off.
"One, two, three!"
In unison, one and all began to sing:
"Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday, dear Harry…
Happy Birthday to you!"
"Make a wish, Harry," someone whispered in his ear as clapping and cheers filled the room. But there was no one behind him. Harry had the funny that voice belonged to none other than…than Sirius.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and thought, I wish for something that will make all this—the war, the pain—a little bit easier.
Harry blew out the candles, feeling happier than he had in a long time.
Mrs. Weasley smiled, cut him the first piece of cake, and allowed him to return to his seat. On his way back for seconds, Lupin tapped him on the shoulder.
"Your Portkey is ready. I've had your belongings sent to Hogwarts. Let's go."
Hermione and Ron toddled over, cake in hand, Ginny close behind.
"On your way, then?" Hermione questioned, lifting a hand to her mouth to stop cake from tumbling out. Ron sighed and threw a napkin at her. He put down his plate and gave Harry a very manly sort of hug with a clap on the back.
"See you soon, mate. Good luck."
Hermione hugged him, too. "Work hard, Harry."
Ginny embraced him as well, standing on her tiptoes. "See you soon," she murmured in his ear.
"Bye, you guys," Harry called over his shoulder.
After saying his farewells to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry followed Lupin into the hallway. He grasped the Portkey Remus offered (a silver frying pan), and, with a stomach churning full of cake, felt himself being wrenched away into a different world.
A/n: all you fans owe thanx to JamieBell for her suggestion that I double space paragraphs. I'm sure she would adore it if you left your kind words with me in form of a review.
You know the H/G action is about to skyrocket…do you really want me to drop this project? HiPa loves you! (specially cuz she missed Sex and the City to write this…)