Title: Legacy of the Father (4)
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Four - Azrael
Harry tried all through the evening to put Sirius and Remus's words out of his mind. It was hard when all he wanted to do now was to go to Hogwarts to find out what was so secret and dangerous; what was this secret he shared with his father? Is this why Voldemort had killed his parents and tried to kill him? What could be of use to Harry that his parents could give that they themselves hadn't already tried without success?
It's my birthday, Harry told himself. I need to concentrate on that for now. Repacking his books into his trunk, Harry walked from the room he and Ron were sharing to the garden.
"Where is Sirius?"
"Remus and Sirius left. They left your presents on the table."
"Did they say where they were going?"
"No, they didn't. Sorry."
Harry doubted that anyone knew where they were or where they were going except Dumbledore. A thought suddenly ran through Harry's mind.
"Mrs. Weasley, do you know a man named Mundungus Fletcher?"
"Hmm, let me think. Yes, there was a wizard named Fletcher that Percy kept telling us about. He was at the World Cup last year. Beyond that, you would have to ask Percy about him. Why do you ask?"
"I was just studying and came across his name."
"Well, what do you think?"
Harry surveyed the garden. Bill and Charlie, allotted vacation time by their employers, had set up three tables and covered them with bright yellow tablecovers. Matching patterned dishes were being set by Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, while Fred and George were using the gnomes they found in the garden for Quidditch practice.
"Where's Percy?"
"Upstairs."
"Working?"
"No, I would wager not. Percy is most likely doing research for Dumbledore; all very secret. After what happened at the Tournament, he resigned from the Ministry of Magic and Arthur convinced him to work for Dumbledore instead. This whole ordeal with You-Know-Who coming back has really got him scared, but Percy's one of those determined types, you know."
"I think that goes for all Weasleys. Maybe that's why all Weasleys go to Gryffindor."
"And Potters," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
Harry looked up at her. If his mother could ever have picked a replacement for herself, she couldn't have done better than Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to have taken Harry into her brood. Her protective motherly nature had been steadily growing since Harry had first met her in King's Cross Station four years ago, but the events at the Triwizard Tournament had steeply increased her sense of needing to protect Harry. Certainly, he thought, she may be quite right.
"So, fifteen today. How does it feel?"
"Just like fourteen, actually."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I guess you just don't noticed it from year to year, but after a while, it starts to grow on you how you must have changed."
"How about how much you've changed in four years?"
"There has been a big improvement over the last four years."
Fred and George, running out of gnomes to play with, shot down towards Harry.
"Come on, Harry. Practice with us. I know Wood's replacement is going to expect the same performance from us as Wood."
"Will either of you be taking over as Captain?"
"No, not me or George. How about you? You're the best player on the team and the best Seeker playing right now."
"We'll see. I think we need to see who will complete our team before we pick a Captain."
Harry ran up to Ron's room and retrieved his Firebolt, polished just a few days ago. Running back down the stairs, Harry nearly knocked Hermione down as he passed.
"Sorry, Hermione."
"Hey, remember to fly low. We don't anyone to see you."
"Yeah, I know."
Harry jumped on his Firebolt the moment he was outside and was soon flying around with George and Fred. Fred had found a particularly nice gnome hiding next to the lavender bush, and he and George were smacking it back and forth with their brooms. Seeing Harry on his Firebolt, Fred hit the unfortunate gnome to Harry, who neatly hit it to George by flipping in the air.
"Nice move, Harry. Wood loved that move."
"What are you talking about, Fred? Wood still loves that move; he will until the day he can't ride a broom anymore."
"Hey, Harry, mind if we switch brooms for a minute? I just want to see how a Firebolt feels."
"Sure."
Grounding, they switched their brooms. Harry watched as Fred eased onto the Firebolt then took off at a breakneck speed, turning and twirling as he did.
"Maybe we should put streamers on it so you can write 'Happy Birthday, Harry!' in the air."
Fred landed, switching the brooms so they once again were in their owners' hands.
"Nice. Very nice. Who gave that to you?"
"Sirius did."
George flew down, still holding the gnome upside down.
"Come on, you two. Let's play. Ron, Bill, Charlie, why don't you play too? That way we can have three on three."
Harry remembered that Charlie was a star Quidditch player when he was in Hogwarts, but Bill and Ron, as far as Harry knew, had never played Quidditch formally. Ron climbed onto his Cleansweep Seven, Bill hopped onto his Nimbus Two Thousand, and Charlie surprised everyone when he popped into the air with his own Firebolt.
"Charlie Weasley, where did you get such an expensive broom?"
"Bought it, in Romania. There're a tad cheaper there than in Diagon Alley."
"Well, and here I thought you were saving your money for other things."
"Well, Mom, I am saving, just had to buy a good broom. After all, dragon care requires a fast broom, and my last one was torched by Norbert."
"The Norwegian Ridgeback that we sent with you my first year?"
"The same. He grew up fast and, without any help, he learned to snort fire in his sleep."
Harry chuckled. Spitting fire was the first thing Norbert had done when he hatched, so Harry wasn't too surprised to hear that, even in his sleep, Norbert was breathing fire.
"So he's doing good, then?"
"It's his trainers I worry about right now. If he can catch me off guard, those fellows with him now might lose him."
"Do you think he would try to fly off?"
"No, not Norbert. He likes it there, I think. No, I mean lose him as in loosen their guard and get torched. Anyhow, since dinner's not quite ready, a short game wouldn't hurt. Besides, I want to see the types of flying skills you have, Harry. I only got to see your flying around the dragon in the Tournament. Nice work, by the way. I was impressed."
"Thanks."
Harry, Ron, and Fred decided to be on one team, opposed by Charlie, Bill, and George. Bill was a good player, but Harry had to keep up with Charlie. There wasn't a Golden Snitch here, but the poor gnome turned Quaffle was still a tad hard to keep track of. The two teams used their imaginations by turning the tall hedges into the baskets and making sure the gnome didn't go too far by putting a net in the hedge's hole. Bill and Ron would play Keeper, the same postion Oliver Wood had played for Gryffindor. Charlie and Harry would be Chasers, a position neither of them had ever played before. George and Fred, typically the Beaters, would, theoretically, also be playing Chasers, but each them played defensive postions instead, helping their Keeper keep the gnome out of the hedge basket that made up the goal.
About halfway through their game, with Harry's team up 20-10, dinner was called.
"Dinner! Great! I'm starved. Chasing after Harry is pretty tiresome."
"Really? I thought keeping up with you was fairly wearing me out."
"Good. That's the sign of a good match-up, when neither side can really claim much advantage over the other. I can see why they allowed you on the team your first year, though. You really are a natural flyer; some of those moves prove it."
"Thanks. Let's eat."
"You read my mind."
Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself. There was a parade of food, and Harry was certain that nothing away from Hogwarts tasted so good. He tasted a bit of the homemade tarts and treacle fudge, while Hermione was busy eating a meat pastry Harry couldn't really identify. Bill and Charlie tucked in with the sausages and grilled potatos that had yet to reach the rest of the feasters. Ron and Ginny, sitting across from Harry and Hermione, were enjoying finger sandwiches, none of which had the corned beef that Ron hated so much.
Mr and Mrs. Weasley sat at the other end of the table from Bill and Charlie, eating shepard's pie, specially made for the two of them. George was between Harry and Bill, practically inhaling a meat pastry like Hermione's, while his twin, Fred, sitting between Charlie and Ron, was munching on a few of the finger sandwiches and some treacle fudge.
"Harry, there's only a little bit of time until term starts again. Are you excited to go back?"
"Sure am, Mr. Weasley."
"And Hermione?"
"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Thought so."
Harry looked down the table to talked to Charlie when he noticed that Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George had all disappeared.
"Ron, where did your brothers go?"
"Don't know. I was too busy listening to Dad."
"Happy birthday, Harry!"
The five eldest Weasley brothers came out of the house carrying a giant white cake with maroon and gold letters reading, 'Happy Birthday, Harry!!'
"Percy was busy finishing the cake. That's why he was late to dinner," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. Harry nodded. A cake like this was a massive project, something worthy of Mrs. Weasley and Percy both.
"Thank you so much. I don't know to say."
"Well, how about 'Tuck in!'"
"Sounds good."
Everyone had more cake than they could ever handle, but it was delicious. Then came time for presents. There weren't many, but Harry wasn't looking for many at all. Ron gave him a Quidditch poster, showing the best players in the world, Victor Krum included.
"Your picture should be on there now, but it will be soon enough."
"I'm not in the same league with Krum, I'm sure."
Hermione's present was an equally cheery gift, wrapped with a giant green bow.
"Careful opening it, Harry. It might jump out at you."
Following the directions given to him, Harry carefully slid the top of the box off and viewed the contents. It was a bat, black as the night and, at the moment, asleep.
"He'll be waking up pretty soon to go hunting. Don't worry, though, he comes back. I've made sure of that."
"But what can he do?"
"In 'Magical Beasts and Their Uses,' it says that bats are some of the best spies and are great at guarding people. They have amazing hearing capabilities."
"Oh." Hedwig won't know what to do with this thing.
"Will bats and owls get along, though, Hermione? You know how Hedwig is about outside creatures."
"Supposed to. Hedwig and this bat are both trained, so there shouldn't be a problem."
The Weasleys were excited, even Percy.
"What to name him, eh, Harry?"
"I'll need to think about it."
"Here's Sirius' present, but the card envelope says to read the card first."
Harry opened the card and instantly recognized the handwriting of Sirius.
Happy Birthday, Harry!
Sorry we couldn't stay, but our mission must press onward against Voldemort before he gains too much leverage and power. Perhaps we'll be able to stop by Hogwarts or Hogsmeade to see you and check on your safety. Remember, Harry, not to say a word about earlier. It was for your ears only. Have a good year and study hard. The O.W.L.s are at the end of term.
- Sirius and Remus
"So, what does it say?"
"Just wishing me a happy birthday and telling me to study hard for the O.W.L.s. That's all."
"See? The your O.W.L.s are important to someone other than you. Sirius and Remus are awaiting great scores. Anyhow, open it! Let's see what they got you!"
"I think all of you are more enthusiastic than I am."
Harry opened the small box on top first. This one was from Remus, but inside, there was only a small golden cloud pin and a card underneath it.
"What is it?"
Harry wasn't quite sure. He handed it to Mr. Weasley.
"Do you know what it is, Mr. Weasley?"
Arthur Weasley was, after all, head of a department that specialized in identifying wizard items and their dangers.
"Sorry, Harry. I don't know."
"Well, what does the card under it say about it."
"'To my son, from your father.'"
Everyone fell silent, looking to Harry to break the silence he had initiated. Harry, instead, put the card back in the box and put the pin on. All of a sudden, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was James Potter, followed closely by Lily.
"Mom, Dad. What's going on?"
"This pin was created by me, one of the last things I ever made. It was intended to help you find my treasures, but I reprogrammed it. You can use it anytime you need help and we'll be here for you."
"Did you know what was going to happen?"
"We knew we were all in danger, and we knew that Voldemort was determined. But, Harry, we could have only had nightmares about this happening. This is what we feared would happen, but never really believed would. We must go for now. Goodbye, Harry."
"Wait!" But they had already disappeared.
"Harry, who were you talking to?"
"My parents. This pin wasn't just my dad's. He made it for me, so he could help me."
The Weasleys looked at each other. Hermione broke the silence.
"Harry, you still haven't opened Sirius' gift. Come on! I'm dying to see what it is!"
"So am I!"
"We all are. Come on, Harry!"
Harry reluctantly opened the second, larger box. After what Remus had given him, he was afraid of what Sirius would give. But his fears were melted away soon enough.
In the second box were two items. The first was a parchment, looking a great deal like the Marauders' Map, and the second was a note that read:
I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, give Harry permission to visit Hogsmeade whenever he wishes.
- Sirius Black
"Does he know how much trouble he could get into for that?"
"I could say that he signed a bunch of these a long time ago for just this sort of predicament."
"Maybe. What's the other parchment?"
"Another Marauders' Map?"
"No, can't be. Remus Lupin wouldn't have to have given me the one I have if there was another one."
Harry opened the parchment and read it aloud, though in little more than a whisper.
Harry,
Your present isn't here. It will be waiting for you at Hogwarts,
Dumbledore assures me. And, this year, don't let Malfoy get to you.
Besides, by the end of the year, he won't have too much to brag about.
Have a good time, and, whatever you do, don't break your present.
Dumbledore will show you how to use it, but use it wisely, like your father would have done.
- Sirius Black
"Wow! A secret present from Dumbledore and Sirius both."
"Well, we don't know what Dumbledore has to do with it besides holding it and presenting it to me. He may not even know what it is."
"Very unlikely."
Night had crept up on the small birthday party. The Weasleys quickly made the tables and tablecloths return to their proper places and retired to their rooms. Hermione, staying in Ginny's room, followed Harry and Ron up the stairs.
"Harry, is what you said about that pin the truth?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Just curious, that's all."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Harry. Happy birthday."
"Thanks, Hermione."
Ron went straight to sleep that night, but Harry couldn't stop thinking about the pin. He finally had something of his father's own handiwork. After all, Sirius and Remus had always talked about how smart James had been. Here was proof. Harry was still wore the pin, determined never to take it off. It provided a warm feeling, a closeness with his parents that nothing else could provide.
Harry thought suddenly that he needed a name for his bat, for Hermione would ask for the name in the morning. Looking back through his history of magic books, he found a name that seemed to fit. He would tell everyone in the morning, but how would he tell the bat? The poor thing slept when Harry was awake and was awake as Harry slept. As if in answer to his question, the young bat flew through the slightly open window and landed in Harry's lap.
"Hermione was right. You do come back. Well, I found a great name for you: Azrael. He was a wizard who loved bats."
The little bat was already asleep again. Hedwig looked at Azrael with some suspicion.
"Please, Hedwig, try to get along. He's a friend and maybe he can help you sometimes."
Hedwig understood. She watched him lay the sleeping bat on a pile of dried moss that she had found undesirable. Hedwig was being unnaturally accepting, but maybe she just understands the need for more eyes and ears around me, Harry thought. With that he climbed into bed and thought about nothing but sleep.
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Four - Azrael
Harry tried all through the evening to put Sirius and Remus's words out of his mind. It was hard when all he wanted to do now was to go to Hogwarts to find out what was so secret and dangerous; what was this secret he shared with his father? Is this why Voldemort had killed his parents and tried to kill him? What could be of use to Harry that his parents could give that they themselves hadn't already tried without success?
It's my birthday, Harry told himself. I need to concentrate on that for now. Repacking his books into his trunk, Harry walked from the room he and Ron were sharing to the garden.
"Where is Sirius?"
"Remus and Sirius left. They left your presents on the table."
"Did they say where they were going?"
"No, they didn't. Sorry."
Harry doubted that anyone knew where they were or where they were going except Dumbledore. A thought suddenly ran through Harry's mind.
"Mrs. Weasley, do you know a man named Mundungus Fletcher?"
"Hmm, let me think. Yes, there was a wizard named Fletcher that Percy kept telling us about. He was at the World Cup last year. Beyond that, you would have to ask Percy about him. Why do you ask?"
"I was just studying and came across his name."
"Well, what do you think?"
Harry surveyed the garden. Bill and Charlie, allotted vacation time by their employers, had set up three tables and covered them with bright yellow tablecovers. Matching patterned dishes were being set by Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, while Fred and George were using the gnomes they found in the garden for Quidditch practice.
"Where's Percy?"
"Upstairs."
"Working?"
"No, I would wager not. Percy is most likely doing research for Dumbledore; all very secret. After what happened at the Tournament, he resigned from the Ministry of Magic and Arthur convinced him to work for Dumbledore instead. This whole ordeal with You-Know-Who coming back has really got him scared, but Percy's one of those determined types, you know."
"I think that goes for all Weasleys. Maybe that's why all Weasleys go to Gryffindor."
"And Potters," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
Harry looked up at her. If his mother could ever have picked a replacement for herself, she couldn't have done better than Mrs. Weasley, who seemed to have taken Harry into her brood. Her protective motherly nature had been steadily growing since Harry had first met her in King's Cross Station four years ago, but the events at the Triwizard Tournament had steeply increased her sense of needing to protect Harry. Certainly, he thought, she may be quite right.
"So, fifteen today. How does it feel?"
"Just like fourteen, actually."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I guess you just don't noticed it from year to year, but after a while, it starts to grow on you how you must have changed."
"How about how much you've changed in four years?"
"There has been a big improvement over the last four years."
Fred and George, running out of gnomes to play with, shot down towards Harry.
"Come on, Harry. Practice with us. I know Wood's replacement is going to expect the same performance from us as Wood."
"Will either of you be taking over as Captain?"
"No, not me or George. How about you? You're the best player on the team and the best Seeker playing right now."
"We'll see. I think we need to see who will complete our team before we pick a Captain."
Harry ran up to Ron's room and retrieved his Firebolt, polished just a few days ago. Running back down the stairs, Harry nearly knocked Hermione down as he passed.
"Sorry, Hermione."
"Hey, remember to fly low. We don't anyone to see you."
"Yeah, I know."
Harry jumped on his Firebolt the moment he was outside and was soon flying around with George and Fred. Fred had found a particularly nice gnome hiding next to the lavender bush, and he and George were smacking it back and forth with their brooms. Seeing Harry on his Firebolt, Fred hit the unfortunate gnome to Harry, who neatly hit it to George by flipping in the air.
"Nice move, Harry. Wood loved that move."
"What are you talking about, Fred? Wood still loves that move; he will until the day he can't ride a broom anymore."
"Hey, Harry, mind if we switch brooms for a minute? I just want to see how a Firebolt feels."
"Sure."
Grounding, they switched their brooms. Harry watched as Fred eased onto the Firebolt then took off at a breakneck speed, turning and twirling as he did.
"Maybe we should put streamers on it so you can write 'Happy Birthday, Harry!' in the air."
Fred landed, switching the brooms so they once again were in their owners' hands.
"Nice. Very nice. Who gave that to you?"
"Sirius did."
George flew down, still holding the gnome upside down.
"Come on, you two. Let's play. Ron, Bill, Charlie, why don't you play too? That way we can have three on three."
Harry remembered that Charlie was a star Quidditch player when he was in Hogwarts, but Bill and Ron, as far as Harry knew, had never played Quidditch formally. Ron climbed onto his Cleansweep Seven, Bill hopped onto his Nimbus Two Thousand, and Charlie surprised everyone when he popped into the air with his own Firebolt.
"Charlie Weasley, where did you get such an expensive broom?"
"Bought it, in Romania. There're a tad cheaper there than in Diagon Alley."
"Well, and here I thought you were saving your money for other things."
"Well, Mom, I am saving, just had to buy a good broom. After all, dragon care requires a fast broom, and my last one was torched by Norbert."
"The Norwegian Ridgeback that we sent with you my first year?"
"The same. He grew up fast and, without any help, he learned to snort fire in his sleep."
Harry chuckled. Spitting fire was the first thing Norbert had done when he hatched, so Harry wasn't too surprised to hear that, even in his sleep, Norbert was breathing fire.
"So he's doing good, then?"
"It's his trainers I worry about right now. If he can catch me off guard, those fellows with him now might lose him."
"Do you think he would try to fly off?"
"No, not Norbert. He likes it there, I think. No, I mean lose him as in loosen their guard and get torched. Anyhow, since dinner's not quite ready, a short game wouldn't hurt. Besides, I want to see the types of flying skills you have, Harry. I only got to see your flying around the dragon in the Tournament. Nice work, by the way. I was impressed."
"Thanks."
Harry, Ron, and Fred decided to be on one team, opposed by Charlie, Bill, and George. Bill was a good player, but Harry had to keep up with Charlie. There wasn't a Golden Snitch here, but the poor gnome turned Quaffle was still a tad hard to keep track of. The two teams used their imaginations by turning the tall hedges into the baskets and making sure the gnome didn't go too far by putting a net in the hedge's hole. Bill and Ron would play Keeper, the same postion Oliver Wood had played for Gryffindor. Charlie and Harry would be Chasers, a position neither of them had ever played before. George and Fred, typically the Beaters, would, theoretically, also be playing Chasers, but each them played defensive postions instead, helping their Keeper keep the gnome out of the hedge basket that made up the goal.
About halfway through their game, with Harry's team up 20-10, dinner was called.
"Dinner! Great! I'm starved. Chasing after Harry is pretty tiresome."
"Really? I thought keeping up with you was fairly wearing me out."
"Good. That's the sign of a good match-up, when neither side can really claim much advantage over the other. I can see why they allowed you on the team your first year, though. You really are a natural flyer; some of those moves prove it."
"Thanks. Let's eat."
"You read my mind."
Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself. There was a parade of food, and Harry was certain that nothing away from Hogwarts tasted so good. He tasted a bit of the homemade tarts and treacle fudge, while Hermione was busy eating a meat pastry Harry couldn't really identify. Bill and Charlie tucked in with the sausages and grilled potatos that had yet to reach the rest of the feasters. Ron and Ginny, sitting across from Harry and Hermione, were enjoying finger sandwiches, none of which had the corned beef that Ron hated so much.
Mr and Mrs. Weasley sat at the other end of the table from Bill and Charlie, eating shepard's pie, specially made for the two of them. George was between Harry and Bill, practically inhaling a meat pastry like Hermione's, while his twin, Fred, sitting between Charlie and Ron, was munching on a few of the finger sandwiches and some treacle fudge.
"Harry, there's only a little bit of time until term starts again. Are you excited to go back?"
"Sure am, Mr. Weasley."
"And Hermione?"
"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Thought so."
Harry looked down the table to talked to Charlie when he noticed that Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George had all disappeared.
"Ron, where did your brothers go?"
"Don't know. I was too busy listening to Dad."
"Happy birthday, Harry!"
The five eldest Weasley brothers came out of the house carrying a giant white cake with maroon and gold letters reading, 'Happy Birthday, Harry!!'
"Percy was busy finishing the cake. That's why he was late to dinner," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. Harry nodded. A cake like this was a massive project, something worthy of Mrs. Weasley and Percy both.
"Thank you so much. I don't know to say."
"Well, how about 'Tuck in!'"
"Sounds good."
Everyone had more cake than they could ever handle, but it was delicious. Then came time for presents. There weren't many, but Harry wasn't looking for many at all. Ron gave him a Quidditch poster, showing the best players in the world, Victor Krum included.
"Your picture should be on there now, but it will be soon enough."
"I'm not in the same league with Krum, I'm sure."
Hermione's present was an equally cheery gift, wrapped with a giant green bow.
"Careful opening it, Harry. It might jump out at you."
Following the directions given to him, Harry carefully slid the top of the box off and viewed the contents. It was a bat, black as the night and, at the moment, asleep.
"He'll be waking up pretty soon to go hunting. Don't worry, though, he comes back. I've made sure of that."
"But what can he do?"
"In 'Magical Beasts and Their Uses,' it says that bats are some of the best spies and are great at guarding people. They have amazing hearing capabilities."
"Oh." Hedwig won't know what to do with this thing.
"Will bats and owls get along, though, Hermione? You know how Hedwig is about outside creatures."
"Supposed to. Hedwig and this bat are both trained, so there shouldn't be a problem."
The Weasleys were excited, even Percy.
"What to name him, eh, Harry?"
"I'll need to think about it."
"Here's Sirius' present, but the card envelope says to read the card first."
Harry opened the card and instantly recognized the handwriting of Sirius.
Happy Birthday, Harry!
Sorry we couldn't stay, but our mission must press onward against Voldemort before he gains too much leverage and power. Perhaps we'll be able to stop by Hogwarts or Hogsmeade to see you and check on your safety. Remember, Harry, not to say a word about earlier. It was for your ears only. Have a good year and study hard. The O.W.L.s are at the end of term.
- Sirius and Remus
"So, what does it say?"
"Just wishing me a happy birthday and telling me to study hard for the O.W.L.s. That's all."
"See? The your O.W.L.s are important to someone other than you. Sirius and Remus are awaiting great scores. Anyhow, open it! Let's see what they got you!"
"I think all of you are more enthusiastic than I am."
Harry opened the small box on top first. This one was from Remus, but inside, there was only a small golden cloud pin and a card underneath it.
"What is it?"
Harry wasn't quite sure. He handed it to Mr. Weasley.
"Do you know what it is, Mr. Weasley?"
Arthur Weasley was, after all, head of a department that specialized in identifying wizard items and their dangers.
"Sorry, Harry. I don't know."
"Well, what does the card under it say about it."
"'To my son, from your father.'"
Everyone fell silent, looking to Harry to break the silence he had initiated. Harry, instead, put the card back in the box and put the pin on. All of a sudden, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was James Potter, followed closely by Lily.
"Mom, Dad. What's going on?"
"This pin was created by me, one of the last things I ever made. It was intended to help you find my treasures, but I reprogrammed it. You can use it anytime you need help and we'll be here for you."
"Did you know what was going to happen?"
"We knew we were all in danger, and we knew that Voldemort was determined. But, Harry, we could have only had nightmares about this happening. This is what we feared would happen, but never really believed would. We must go for now. Goodbye, Harry."
"Wait!" But they had already disappeared.
"Harry, who were you talking to?"
"My parents. This pin wasn't just my dad's. He made it for me, so he could help me."
The Weasleys looked at each other. Hermione broke the silence.
"Harry, you still haven't opened Sirius' gift. Come on! I'm dying to see what it is!"
"So am I!"
"We all are. Come on, Harry!"
Harry reluctantly opened the second, larger box. After what Remus had given him, he was afraid of what Sirius would give. But his fears were melted away soon enough.
In the second box were two items. The first was a parchment, looking a great deal like the Marauders' Map, and the second was a note that read:
I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, give Harry permission to visit Hogsmeade whenever he wishes.
- Sirius Black
"Does he know how much trouble he could get into for that?"
"I could say that he signed a bunch of these a long time ago for just this sort of predicament."
"Maybe. What's the other parchment?"
"Another Marauders' Map?"
"No, can't be. Remus Lupin wouldn't have to have given me the one I have if there was another one."
Harry opened the parchment and read it aloud, though in little more than a whisper.
Harry,
Your present isn't here. It will be waiting for you at Hogwarts,
Dumbledore assures me. And, this year, don't let Malfoy get to you.
Besides, by the end of the year, he won't have too much to brag about.
Have a good time, and, whatever you do, don't break your present.
Dumbledore will show you how to use it, but use it wisely, like your father would have done.
- Sirius Black
"Wow! A secret present from Dumbledore and Sirius both."
"Well, we don't know what Dumbledore has to do with it besides holding it and presenting it to me. He may not even know what it is."
"Very unlikely."
Night had crept up on the small birthday party. The Weasleys quickly made the tables and tablecloths return to their proper places and retired to their rooms. Hermione, staying in Ginny's room, followed Harry and Ron up the stairs.
"Harry, is what you said about that pin the truth?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Just curious, that's all."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Harry. Happy birthday."
"Thanks, Hermione."
Ron went straight to sleep that night, but Harry couldn't stop thinking about the pin. He finally had something of his father's own handiwork. After all, Sirius and Remus had always talked about how smart James had been. Here was proof. Harry was still wore the pin, determined never to take it off. It provided a warm feeling, a closeness with his parents that nothing else could provide.
Harry thought suddenly that he needed a name for his bat, for Hermione would ask for the name in the morning. Looking back through his history of magic books, he found a name that seemed to fit. He would tell everyone in the morning, but how would he tell the bat? The poor thing slept when Harry was awake and was awake as Harry slept. As if in answer to his question, the young bat flew through the slightly open window and landed in Harry's lap.
"Hermione was right. You do come back. Well, I found a great name for you: Azrael. He was a wizard who loved bats."
The little bat was already asleep again. Hedwig looked at Azrael with some suspicion.
"Please, Hedwig, try to get along. He's a friend and maybe he can help you sometimes."
Hedwig understood. She watched him lay the sleeping bat on a pile of dried moss that she had found undesirable. Hedwig was being unnaturally accepting, but maybe she just understands the need for more eyes and ears around me, Harry thought. With that he climbed into bed and thought about nothing but sleep.