Warning: The part of my brain that keeps telling me to grown up is now forcing me to warn you that this chapter contains under-age drinking. Whilst it would be hypocritical of me to tell you not to do such things, I'll happily say that peer pressure probably isn't a good reason to start.
Brit A/N: Please note that British Muggle money comes in pounds and pence (the latter abbreviated to just 'p'), and that 10p is about 15 Euro cents or just under 20 US cents.
2: The birthday rule.
Harry woke late the next day with a niggling feeling that there was something he was supposed to remember about today. The time - nearly quarter to ten - confused him too. Although Aunt Petunia had long since given up hammering on his door to order him to cook breakfast at 7am, she was staunchly opposed to laziness (Dudley excepted) and would usually accidentally bang and clatter about loudly enough to wake him if he hadn't surfaced by eight-thirty.
Dressing quickly, Harry went downstairs, preparing to be subjected to subtle hints that rising at this hour was unacceptable. However, when he reached the kitchen there was no-one there and the sight waiting for him brought on a sudden realisation.
Today was his birthday; his sixteenth birthday. The reason he was standing stock still in the kitchen was sitting on the table in the form of a parcel. Harry knew that Hedwig would never have delivered his post down here and none of his friends would use such hideous pink and green wrapping paper - not even the Weasley twins. This only left one alternative... The parcel had come from the Dursleys. Just to add to this revelation, judging by its size, whatever they had given him was not a coat-hanger, used tissue or pair of old socks.
Moving forward, Harry opened the card that lay on top of the parcel, which said:
Tell those people we gave you something.
It wasn't signed but it was definitely his uncle's handwriting. Harry tore open the wrapping paper, intensely curious as to what they could possibly have deemed useless enough to give away.
Inside was a football. Not one of Dudley's cast-offs, not one found half-deflated and abandoned in the park, but a brand new football. They'd willingly spent money on a present for his birthday... Harry sat down in a daze.
Just as he thought he'd got over this, deciding he would make himself breakfast, he received another surprise. On opening the fridge door, Harry spotted a small chocolate muffin. It was still in its packaging, which showed that it was past its Best Before date and had been reduced to 10p. Balanced on top was a note, this time in Aunt Petunia's scrawl:
We'll be out until 6pm. Don't mess up the house.
It was hardly a loving birthday greeting, but already Harry counted this as his favourite birthday surprise. He may not have received 57 new high-tech toys and gadgets like Dudley (an improvement of 6 on the previous year) but, better than the football, and much better than the out-of-date cup cake, he wouldn't have to see the Dursleys for a whole day. Harry felt a brief pang of disappointment that Hedwig hadn't brought him anything from his friends but, remembering Tonks's cryptic message about his post being delayed, he set out to enjoy his day.
He first sat in Uncle Vernon's favourite large, comfy armchair in the living room and relished the power of being able to choose whatever he wanted to watch on TV, but after 10 minutes of flicking through the various daytime programmes Harry decided that maybe he wasn't missing much after all. Next, he picked up Dudley's joystick and proceeded to play on the very latest computer game, which Dudley had been given and hadn't had a chance to break yet, before an ability to fly power boost reminded him of what he really wanted to be doing.
Harry systematically went round the house closing all the curtains. Once he was convinced that no-one could see him, he opened the cupboard under the stairs and brought out his Firebolt. Admittedly, flying his broom slowly up and down the hall and stairway wasn't as exciting as playing Quidditch but the thrill of knowing he was on a flying broomstick in his aunt and uncle's house almost made up for it.
He knew the neighbours (who were nearly as nosy as his aunt) would be suspicious if they spotted the curtains closed all day, though, so soon Harry began searching for other things to do.
He ate lunch, including the slightly stale muffin, then turned on Dudley's music system. Disregarding his cousin's dubious music taste, he turned on the Muggle radio as loud as he dared. Muggle music was nothing like the rare snippets of wizarding music he'd heard at The Burrow and the Yule Ball, but he found he quite liked it - especially someone called Blur, whoever he might be.
However, when some quieter music came on Harry's mind couldn't help but wander to the thing he'd been trying to avoid thinking about for the last month, and he switched the radio off quickly, deciding to take his birthday present to the park for a kick-about. Harry wasn't really a big football fan but he wanted to get out of the house and sport was always useful for wearing himself out. Besides, he thought the park would be a good place to pen his reply to Ginny and he might even call in at Mrs Figg's on the way home to see if his batty neighbour had any news of the wizarding world for him.
Although Harry didn't know any of the children in the park, they were young enough to not have been at school when he and Dudley were, so they had no qualms about asking him for a game, especially since they had no ball to play with.
Grateful for the distraction, Harry agreed and was surprised to learn when their game was over that it was half past five. The Dursleys would be home soon. Anxious not to upset his relatives when he'd had a half-decent birthday for a change, Harry started back towards Privet Drive, foregoing his visit to Mrs Figg.
During dinner Harry thanked the Dursleys for his present (which was met with an indistinguishable grunt from his uncle) and managed to deduce that Dudley had been taken out for the day on a shopping trip combined with a visit to the cinema. It wouldn't do for Dudley to start thinking that they actually cared about Harry, despite being forced to give him a present. The reasoning behind this latest display of Dudley's greed, it transpired, was that someone had invited Harry's overly-plump cousin to a party, although his vague replies when asked whose party it was made Harry suspicious. Unsurprisingly, his parents never pressed the matter.
Part of Aunt Petunia's reformed behaviour towards Harry consisted of making sure that Dudley included Harry in his activities. Dudley had, of course, protested but Mad-Eye Moody's little chat with Uncle Vernon had obviously deeply affected his aunt and she had insisted. After a while Dudley had come to realise that Harry didn't really want to spend time with him either and they seemed to come to an unspoken agreement: they would go wherever his aunt suggested but ignore each other when they got there, which suited them both just fine and ensured that neither were yelled at.
And so it was that on his sixteenth birthday, Harry was handed one of Dudley's old junior school shirts and told to get ready to go to a party.
The only parties Harry could ever remember going to were Dudley's 6th birthday party and Nearly-Headless Nick's Deathday party so he wasn't really sure what to expect and was actually relieved when, halfway down the street, Dudley told him that there was no party. He wouldn't say where they were going though - or why - but as they would have to show up at home together Harry didn't have much choice but to follow.
The two boys met up with Piers then strolled into the centre of town. Stopping outside
a pub called The White Lion, Dudley turned to Harry.
"If anyone asks you, you're eighteen," he said in a manner that told Harry he thought
he sounded threatening. "We're meeting some friends and if you show us up we'll make
you sorry. Got it?"
Harry resisted the temptation to raise an eyebrow and simply nodded. He was curious.
Firstly, he'd never been in a Muggle pub before and, secondly, Harry had thought that
Piers and Dennis were Dudley's only friends in Little Whinging these days. Dudley
wouldn't be making this much fuss for either of them. There was something about
Dudley's behaviour too; if it had been anyone else, Harry would have said that he was
nervous.
Whoever they were meeting hadn't arrived yet and as the three of them sat down at a table in the corner, Dudley turned and whispered something to Piers. Piers nodded and got up again to make his way towards the bar.
"We've decided that seeing as it's your birthday, we're going to treat you," Dudley
announced.
Now Harry knew that there was something strange going on. Dudley obviously
thought he looked very innocent but after years spent around Fred and George, Harry
could have spotted his cousin's attempt at concealing mischief with his eyes closed.
He decided to play along though.
"That's nice of you. Thanks Dudley."
His cousin's glee at apparently deceiving Harry was obvious, and his nod to Piers
across the room was even more so.
Harry was about to ask what his treat might be when something caught his eye. Two girls had just walked into the pub, wearing clothes that barely covered the essentials and more make-up than all the girls at the Yule Ball put together.
Dudley turned round to see what Harry was staring at and spotting them he waved to get their attention. So this was why he was nervous, Harry thought with amusement; Dudley Dursley had a date! As they approached Harry realised they were the girls from the park yesterday. Harry had to stop himself from grinning; he had a front row seat to watch his cousin try to chat up a girl. This was going to be fun.
Dudley didn't bother to introduce Harry but he said hello anyway. Both girls ignored him. Just as they sat down Piers appeared with a tray of drinks; three in pint glasses and two smaller ones. The amber-coloured drinks all looked the same except for one, which was slightly murky.
"There you go, Harry. Happy Birthday," said Dudley, handing Harry the murky drink.
The others were taken by his friends, who then all turned to look at Harry.
"Er, what is it?"
Dudley laughed as if this was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.
"Cider, of course." The two girls giggled. "Yours just, er, came out of the barrel
first. That's why it's darker."
Piers gave Dudley a badly disguised wink.
"Go on then, drink it," Piers encouraged.
"Yes, go on," one of the girls joined in.
Harry now had a very bad feeling about this. If he hadn't known better, he'd have
been suspicious that his cousin had been taking potions lessons from Snape in a
conspiracy to poison him.
"What are you waiting for? Look, we're drinking ours." Dudley picked up his own drink
and took a sip, and the others copied him.
It couldn't be that bad, Harry reasoned. He'd been drinking Butterbeer for years;
surely this couldn't be that different. He took a gulp.
Although not entirely unpleasant, it was very sweet and Harry couldn't decide what it
tasted of. It was almost like a bad mixture of several different drinks.
"You don't know the rule, do you?" Dudley was still watching him.
"Which rule?"
"The birthday rule. When it's your birthday, if someone buys you a drink you have to
down it in one go. Isn't that right, Piers?"
Piers tore his eyes from the girl nearest him. "What? Yeah. In one go. It's the rule."
Harry wasn't that much of an idiot that he didn't realise they were trying to make a fool out of him in front of their dates, but for some strange reason he was tempted to do it anyway. It couldn't do that much harm, could it? This is what normal, Muggle teenagers did, and he wanted desperately to be normal. He wanted to get into normal trouble for a change - rather than the sort which left you with nightmares and irreparable consequences.
He vaguely recalled over-hearing Hagrid telling someone about a wizard in the Three Broomsticks who had come in to drink to forget. Did that apply to Muggle drinks too? Was it like obliviate? Could he choose what he wanted to forget? It would be so much easier than having to censor his own thoughts a hundred times a day. Maybe the dreams would stop too.
Before Dudley could goad him any further, Harry had picked up his pint glass and was gulping down the contents. He got halfway through the liquid before the sweetness became too much and he had to stop. It was sickly and tasted like dishwater.
Harry looked over to find Dudley was staring at him open-mouthed. He seemed to recover and a grin appeared above his many chins. Harry hiccupped and his audience laughed. But there was something wrong with them. Or perhaps it was him? He began to feel dizzy and his eyelids seemed to grow heavier. None of the others seemed to be affected at all.
Harry wondered briefly if cider had the same effect on wizards that Butterbeer did on House-elves, but Dudley was still laughing in his ear and before this thought had time to develop, Harry turned and threw up on Dudley's brand new shoes.
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To be continued...
In chapter 3: Harry, Tonks and Lupin gather to discover Sirius' Final Intentions.
A/N: Hoorah. My first ever second chapter (if you see what I mean). Perhaps a bit
short but the next chapter will be much longer. I may have mentioned this once or twice
before, but feedback (be it comments, compliments or constructive criticism) is much
appreciated so drop me a review!
Until the next time,
MyrtilleEtMure.
xxx
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written July 2003
posted March 2004
re-posted March 2005
