Disclaimer: Oh, screw that! I don't own HP or his world yadayadayada!
A/N: I give up on trying to find out how to work italics, because obviously HTML is hating me. I can't figure it out. Once more I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review, much appreciated. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, I enjoyed writing it.
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The next morning, Harry woke up with a feeling of both dread and anticipation. He was leaving! He was getting out of Privet Drive! He just didn't like to think about where he was going. It had been plain from his friends' letters that they were not staying at The Burrow. Harry's mind tried to block out the place where they would most likely be.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place, as the house where Sirius had grown up, as the house that Sirius had hated, was not the friendliest of houses. If anything, far from that. It was a dark house, filled with dark magic. But that wasn't the most important reason that Harry dreaded going there. It would always remind him of Sirius.
However, the wish to get away from his relatives and to see his friends was too strong. If they were at Grimmauld Place, then he would be there with them. It would hurt, it would probably hurt a lot, but Harry needed his friends. He had always known that, but the talks with Dumbledore and Remus had made that fact even clearer. In the end, he might be alone, but he didn't have to get to the end by himself. That, at least, had he remembered from his first talk with Dumbledore during summer.
But this wasn't the time for dark thoughts. Facing more memories of Sirius would be hard enough without thoughts about prophecies, Dark Lords, and saving the world.
He had to pack. He was leaving. He would see Ron, Hermione, the twins and Ginny soon. Ginny. She had been a most unexpected faithful correspondent. He had received 2 letters every week, and most were obviously designed to make him laugh. Ginny had turned out to be a genius at vividly describing how Fred and George tried to test their new products on Ron, Hermione and herself. Not surprisingly, Ron had turned out to be the easiest target, falling prey to pranks several times during the weekends that the twins came over to visit. Harry didn't know why she had taken to writing him, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.
And so Harry's thoughts continued while he got dressed and packed his trunk.
At midday, he ventured downstairs. Once again, it seemed that his aunt was the only person in the house.
'Aunt Petunia,' said Harry, 'I'll be leaving today, so I won't see you until next year. So –er- that's all I wanted to say really. See ya.'
Aunt Petunia looked up from her women's magazine, only to look down again.
Harry turned on his heel and walked out of the room. What did he expect? He should have known better. Had he expected a hug? A tearful goodbye? No, he didn't even want that. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but this cold response somehow hadn't been it. Although they still didn't get along, ever since their conversation Harry had thought there was a mutual agreement of politeness.
As he got to the stairs, he heard his aunt's voice. 'Harry?' she called out tentatively. Harry walked back to the room and popped his head around the door. He just looked at his aunt, whose eyes were still fixed on the magazine in her lap. Her eyes didn't seem to be moving, however.
'Try not to get yourself killed, you hear. It would be quite difficult to explain to the neighbours.'
Seething, Harry stormed back toward the stairs. She was so selfish, so incredibly selfish!
But as fast as the anger had risen up inside him, it disappeared again. Instead, he just felt sad. Sad, and afraid. Sad, afraid and alone.
'Snap out of it, Harry!' he told himself. 'You're not feeling sad, or afraid, or alone. Well, you are, but not right now. What the hell is wrong with you? Where did those feelings come from? Great, now you're talking to yourself inside your head. Maybe the Daily Prophet was right all along. Maybe you're just a nutter!'
Harry snapped out of the conversation in his head. Somehow, though Harry didn't understand how or why, he had picked up on someone else's feelings. As there was nobody else in the house, it must have been Aunt Petunia.
At least now he could see that his aunt was even worse than he was at expressing feelings. He couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her. She knew that Voldemort was back, and from her family, Harry was the only person who understood what that meant. Even though they hadn't talked since the revelations in the kitchen, Harry still could-.
His train of thought was interrupted as the doorbell rang. Being closest to the door, Harry opened it.
In front of him stood a part of, to most people, strange looking men and women.
There was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, who looked rather eerie with his spinning magical eye, even though it was partly hidden by a bowler hat. The chunk that was missing from his nose didn't make him a more pleasant sight. Mr Weasley, who had obviously had a lot of fun with picking out Muggle clothes, and was wearing baggy pinstripe pants and a pink sweater with a pony on it. Tonks apparently felt she hadn't shocked Aunt Petunia enough at Kings Cross, and was now sporting hair that was streaked in all the colours of the rainbow, down to her waist. Bill Weasley, who didn't seem different, but would still look repulsive to Aunt Petunia, with a fang dangling from his ear, and his long hair in a ponytail. The last of the party was Hestia Jones, a solemn looking witch who had been part of his rescue party last year, and who obviously felt she didn't need to wear Muggle-clothes, as she was clad in black robes.
After they were through with greeting Harry, they felt the need to greet Aunt Petunia as well. Of course, Harry made no objection.
Aunt Petunia looked positively horrified and personally insulted at the sight of the group of wizards and witches in front of her. Tonks seemed to have the most fun watching Aunt Petunia struggle to be at least semi-polite to people whom obviously disgusted her.
Too soon, Mr Weasley decided it was time to get Harry's things and go, and the whole party moved upstairs.
'Excuse me,' Harry asked to no one in particular, 'but how are we going where we're going? We don't have a fire place, and surely we can go on broom during the day.'
'Portkey,' Moody grumbled, 'Ministry's handing them out like hot buns now there's no one in particular in charge.'
At this news, Harry looked at Mr Weasley, horror-struck. 'No one in charge? But-. How? Why-?'
'There, there,' said Mr Weasley, 'Mad-Eye is making it sound worse than it is. Of course there are people in charge. But with Fudge out of the way, it's a lot easier to get things done our way, is all.'
Harry felt a bit more relieved while he went to get his things, but one thing was still bothering him. 'But,' he said, 'if we're going via Portkey, surely there's no need for a guard of five. I mean, Tonks and I have been running around the neighbourhood by ourselves all summer.'
'Constant vigilance, Harry,' came Moody's answer. 'You never know what will happen. And obviously you have no idea just how many people were watching over you every time you were out.'
True. Of this, Harry hadn't the faintest idea. And somehow, he thought it might be better if he didn't know.
'Good, Harry, everyone, if you would be so kind?' said Mr Weasley while holding out a piece of driftwood. 'Let's get going.'
As Harry placed his finger on the Portkey, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel. Struggling to hold on to his trunk (fortunately Tonks had taken Hedwig's cage and Bill his broom) he was banging into the other while travelling through the familiar whirl of colour and sound.
With a bang, Harry landed flat on his face on a stone floor, and had the wind knocked out of him. Listening to the moans around him, he gathered that the others hadn't experienced a much better landing.
Struggling to get back on his feet, he heard Tonks moan beside him 'Whoever made that Portkey deserves a good spanking. That's the worst Portkey trip I've ever had.'
Looking around him, Harry saw that they were standing in a hallway much like the one in Grimmauld Place. Only, this hallway was painted a crisp white, and didn't have insulting portraits plastered all the way along it. Instead, there were photos of Harry, Ron and Hermione, Harry's parents, Lupin and Sirius. Harry felt a lump rising in his throat. Swallowing it back, Harry looked questioningly at Tonks, not yet trusting his voice.
'Yup Harry,' she look at him, beaming, 'this really is Grimmauld Place, although I shouldn't say any more just now. Let's take your things upstairs.'
Not believing his eyes, Harry followed her to the room Ron and him had shared last summer.
'But,' he stammered, 'but, Mrs Black?'
The others made their way to the kitchen as Tonks answered. 'Burnt her right off the wall,' Tonks grinned. 'Well, actually Sirius did,' she added sadly. 'A Permanent Sticking Charm on an object that can be burned, is nothing without an Anti Fire Charm. Seems like the old broad hadn't covered all her bases. Sirius wanted it to be a surprise, so he didn't tell you. He thought that-,' Tonks' eyes were now brimming with tears, 'he thought that if he would make the house look better, you might want to live with him.'
Harry had to swallow and even greater lump back. He couldn't believe his godfather had done that for him. Burnt his own mother (albeit her portrait) off the wall. Harry would have loved living with Sirius. He just hoped Sirius had known that.
As they made their way up the stairs, Harry noticed the house elf head were all gone. Voice trembling, he said 'Sirius did all this? On his own?'
Tonks shook her head sadly. 'No. We were planning to, but he only got to finish the hallway. The rest was done by some of the Order and your friends. They've been quite busy, you know.'
As they reached the bedroom, Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The furniture was still the same, but the room couldn't have been more different. The walls had been pained, Harry didn't know what to call it, beige? Light brown? Whatever it was called, it looked very nice. The beds were covered with quilts in several shades of blue, and where the portrait of Phineas had been last year, hung a large pencil drawing of a big black dog.
As though hypnotized, Harry walked toward it to take a better look. In the left hand corner of the drawing it read: 'To Padfoot, Happy 21st! Love, Lily.'
Harry turned around. 'My mother drew?'
Tonks nodded. 'I didn't know either until we came across that drawing. Don't get upset, Harry, but we needed some papers of the Order that were in Sirius' room, and while looking for it, we came across that drawing. Several people thought you might like it.'
Harry just nodded in reply. He did like it. Better, he loved it. And even though he felt a pang of anger when Tonks said they had been in Sirius room, he could understand it.
'Come on, Harry, let's go to the kitchen. Molly has made apple crumble, and I know there are some people that are dying to see you.'
As Harry walked into the kitchen, his jaw dropped in surprise once more, but now, there was now time to ask any questions or look around. He heard a shriek to his left, and the wind got knocked out of him once more as Hermione wrapped him in a hug.
'Hermione-. Need. Air. Breathe.' Harry gasped.
'Oh, sorry,' Hermione muttered as she let go, 'I was just glad to see you.'
'I'm glad to see you too. It's just that us mortals need a regular intake of oxygen to survive.'
Hermione tried to scowl at Harry, while Ron slapped him on the back. 'Good to see you, mate. You look better than I expected. You're beefing up a bit.'
Harry felt bad he wasn't able to return the compliment. Ron looked like he'd lost some weight, and dark circles had appeared under his eyes. Yet, he managed to smile and said, 'Good to see you too, Ron.'
As the three friends made their way to the table, he saw Ginny sitting at the far end. 'Hey Harry,' she waited while giving him a wave, 'good to have you back with us.'
'Hi Ginny,' Harry waved back, 'thanks for the letters.'
At this, he saw Ron shoot him a questioning look, and Ginny's ears turned slightly pink.
Harry had noticed that Ron and Ginny's letters weren't delivered together anymore, but he hadn't expected Ron to know nothing about them.
Before he knew it, he was wrapped in yet another hug. 'Oh Harry,' Mrs Weasley said softly, 'it's so good to have you back. My, it actually looks like those Muggles have been taking a bit better care of you, though you obviously haven't been sleeping properly-'
Harry reckoned Mrs Weasley could have gone on for quite some time, if Ron hadn't interrupted her.
'Mum, maybe Harry would like to have a look at the kitchen first.' His voice was dripping with anticipation and pride.
After telling Mrs Weasley he was very glad to see her, too, and thanking her for getting him out of Privet Drive, he finally managed to take a look around.
Like in his room, the furniture had remained the same, but the kitchen was transformed. It had all been painted the same crisp white as the hallway, except for the wall that held the fireplace. That wall had been painted a deep dark red, and over the fireplace, the crest of Gryffindor had been painted.
Stunned, he looked over at his friends, who all had big smiles on their faces. 'Surprise!' they said.
Harry felt like he might break down if he tried to speak. It was obvious how much work had gone into this. Last summer they had been cleaning every day, and he hadn't seen a difference. Now, both the hallway upstairs and downstairs were painted and looked friendly. His room had been redecorated, as had the kitchen. And that Gryffindor crest over the fireplace looked like it had always been there. Grimmauld Place almost felt like a home now.
Of course, it would never be a home without Sirius. Sirius, who had most likely been the instigator of these developments.
Harry didn't know how he would ever be able to repay his friends. With the house so transformed, it reminded him a bit less of his godfather.
'Well,' said Hermione tentatively, 'do you like it? You know, we did our best but we didn't really know-. I mean, we didn't want to- You know, without your –'
Hermione, of all people, was at a loss for words. None of them had forgotten Harry's about big blow-up last summer, or the ones he had had during the schoolyear, and she knew that Harry wasn't a big fan of surprises. It was obvious Harry hated being out of the loop.
He saw his friends sigh with relief when he said, 'It's wonderful, guys. I love it. How long have you been working on this? Surely you must have spent a lot of time painting and cleaning?'
'No worries, mate,' Ron answered. We've been here for almost four weeks, and we're hardly ever able to go outside. Besides keeping us busy, it was a great deal of fun too.'
Ginny nodded. 'Because we can't use magic during the holidays we did it all by hand. Of course Tonks, Remus, Dad, Bill, George and Fred were able to use a bit of magic, but they were having a lot of fun doing it by hand as well.'
Harry still felt stunned. This transformation was such a great surprise and yet there was something that didn't sit well with him. Before he had said that he loved it, he felt that his friends were almost afraid of him. Like they were afraid he wouldn't like it and blow up like he had so many times last year. Had it really been that bad? When his friends had tried to help him, had he really been ungrateful so often?
Harry knew the answers to those questions only too well, although he didn't like to admit it. He had been behaving pretty badly last year. And he couldn't blame it all on being a teenager, that much he knew too. Hermione was a teenager, so was Ron, and so were most of his other friends. They didn't blow up at their friends over every little thing. He knew that he somehow would have to get rid of the terrible temper, or at least learn to control it. Over summer, he had shouted at Remus and Dumbledore several times, and they had always remained calm with him.
He knew that the least he could do was try to learn something from their tempers. He was learning already, but he still had a long way to go.
'Earth to Harry! Come in Harry!' Hermione was waving a hand in front of his face. 'Ah, there you are. Deep in thought as always. As I was just telling you, you haven't seen it all yet. We've also redecorated the room Ginny and I share, Mrs and Mrs Weasley's room and one of the guest rooms. But there's lots more to be done, so now that you're here, you can start giving us a hand.'
'Sure,' said Harry. 'I've kept pretty busy during the last couple of weeks, but I think I won't be doing a lot of running anymore.' Harry looked over at Tonks, who seemed to be starting her third serve of apple crumble. 'Hey, Tonks, easy on the crumble. I haven't had any yet!'
Tonks smiled guiltily at Harry. 'Sorry, but Molly's cooking is to die for. And no, you won't be doing any more running, but that doesn't mean your training is going to end. We'll be continuing martial arts and our other exercises three times a week. My sodding supervisor has changed my work schedule, so I can't be around as much anymore. Ron will be joining us for training too, but no doubt he will want to tell you about that himself.'
'Later, mate,' was Ron's answer. 'Let's have some of mum's crumble first, before Tonks decides to polish it all off!'
Hestia Jones, Mr Weasley, Bill and Moody all stood up as one and said that sadly, they had some business to attend to. Obviously, the former 3 all had jobs to return to, and Moody probably had to do something for the Order.
As Harry helped himself to a large portion of apple crumble, he said, 'Now that you mention it, Tonks. How did you manage to train with me all those mornings? You must have had Auror work and Order duties as well?'
Tonks laughed. 'Well, fortunately Harry, you were my main Order duty, as you so eloquently put it. And I was able to shuffle around some shifts at work, so that I would only work afternoons and nights. Unfortunately, my supervisor found out and wants me to start working the shifts that are assigned to me. '
After enjoying his crumble in silence for a while, the Gryffindor crest caught Harry's eyes once more. 'And who painted that crest? There's so much detail in it. And it almost looks like it stands out a bit from the wall. It's wonderful.'
Ginny's ears turned slightly pink once more, although she seemed to have more control over her blushing than she used to. 'That would have been me. And thanks for the compliment.'
'I didn't know you could draw, Ginny.'
'Well Harry, there's a lot of things you don't know about me.'
And Harry had to agree with her on that. She had surprised him in more ways than once last year, and had proven that she shouldn't be underestimated. Still, the mysterious look in her eyes mystified Harry.
When Ron had finished his third plate of crumble, they all decided to take Harry on a tour of the renovated rooms. Just before they left the kitchen, Mrs Weasley called him back. "Harry, could you come here for a second? Now, I've been meaning to ask you; what kind of cake would you like tomorrow?
'Cake?' Harry said with a puzzled expression.
'Yes, silly. Birthday cake. You know, to eat at your birthday party tomorrow night.'
'Birthday party?' Harry said while the puzzled look grew even more puzzled. 'Birthday party? What party? I've never had a birthday party.'
Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears almost instantaneously as she wrapped Harry in a big hug, muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'those cursed Muggles'. Although Harry often got annoyed at Mrs Weasley fretting over him and acting like she needed to protect him from the big, bad world, he didn't really mind this time. She was actually going to throw him a birthday party? He could hardly believe his ears, and he felt like his heart would burst out of his chest with gratitude and excitement.
After a short while, it seemed that Mrs Weasley had been able to compose herself slightly and said, 'You didn't answer my question, Harry. Tell me, what kind of birthday cake would you like?'.
Lacking experience in choosing a flavour for a birthday cake, and still feeling slightly overwhelmed, Harry chose the only flavour he could think of. Chocolate.
Hermione, Ron and Ginny had been waiting for him on the other side of the door, and all looked at him questioningly. Hermione was the first to speak. 'Harry, truly, have you never had a birthday party?'
Harry shook his head. 'No. I thought that was common knowledge. After all, I have told you about the kinds of presents the Dursleys usually give me.'
Hermione and Ginny nodded sadly, their eyes investigating the tips of their socks. Harry's mind drifted off for a second as he thought, 'Hey, so I'm not the only one who does that when I don't want to face up to things.'
'We knew about all that, mate,' said Ron, 'but I don't think it ever occurred to either of us that you never had a birthday party. Every kid deserves a party in their honour once a year. Well, I guess we will just have to make up for 15 uncelebrated birthdays this time. Usually, 16 isn't such a big deal, with 17 being coming of age, but I reckon we can get away with a big party in this case.'
Harry's heart grew once more at his friend's everlasting loyalty as he said, 'No need to go out of your way, you know. You've all done so much already, with the house-'
'Yes, the house,' Ginny interrupted, 'we're almost forgetting about the grand tour. Come on, Harry, let's get going!'
Harry smiled at Ginny's enthusiasm. He was sure the he would be excited to show his work too, if he had been painting and renovating for weeks. 'Sure, what are we waiting for? Where are we going first?' The group started towards the stairs as something suddenly hit Harry. 'Kreacher!' He exclaimed. 'Where has that vile excuse of an house elf gotten off to?'
Ron looked at him with a look of glee, causing Hermione to scowl. 'Tried to chop his head off, that one. Probably thought he had fulfilled his purpose in serving the Black family. Dad discovered him. He had tried to build his own guillotine and he released the blade himself. Pity no one told him the blade should sever the spinal cord first, or you'll bleed to death. Which is exactly what happened. Well, serves him right is all I can say about that.' As Ron sniggered Hermione looked at him with a look of utter disgust.
'Ron! You know that I feel as vengeful as any of you about what Kreacher did. But he was a product of how he was raised and treated. If wizardkind didn't feel it was their right to abuse house elves, things might have turned out differently. And that's what I'm trying to get through to everyone with S.P.E.W-.'
'No, no,' Ron moaned (and Harry silently agreed with him), 'not Spew again! Do you still refuse to see that 99% of the house elves are happy with the way things are right now!? Anyway, Harry, I hadn't finished the story yet. This all happened just after we had gotten back here from school. When Dad discovered Kreacher, he also found a note in which Kreacher asked to be joined with his forefathers. Well, joined with them he was. Mum spent the morning blasting the heads of the wall. I swear, I don't think I've ever seen her that furious, not even with Fred and George. After she blasted the last head off the wall, she moved them all into the kitchen and burned them in the fireplace. Right along with Kreacher's head and body. The days after that, everyone went around with rags tied over their mouths and noses because of the stench.'
Hermione still looked as if she disapproved of the whole thing, which caused irritation with Harry. 'If you don't like it, Hermione, what do you think would have been a suitable punishment for that little toerag? Because of his treason, Sirius died, and all of you got hurt. We couldn't have ousted him, he would have gone straight to Voldemort. And would you really have liked being around him, facing his mad excitement at having succeeded? Because he would have been very happy, Hermione. He would have never let us forget what he had done, and I probably would have killed him for it. Besides, his death wasn't even our fault. He killed himself, didn't he? So what would you have suggested, Hermione? Tell me, because I'm dying to know why Kreacher was more important to you than Sirius!'
Hermione sobbed silently as Ginny said, 'That was way harsh, Harry, -.'
But Hermione pulled herself together and interrupted. 'Thanks Ginny, but I can defend myself on this one.' She took a deep breath as she looked Harry straight into his eyes. 'Firstly, I would like you to know that I'm not going to put up with any more of your crap. You have a right to be angry where it concerns Sirius, and you have a right to be angry about a lot of other things as well. However, I'm not going to let you take your frustration out on us every time, Harry. Last year was enough. Secondly, you have no right to imply that I do not miss Sirius, or that I'm not hurting as much as any other person that knew him. That comment was both uncalled for and cruel. Thirdly, in the Muggle world a lot of value is placed on respecting a dying man's wish. I KNOW KREACHER WAS NOT A MAN!' she cried exasperatedly as Ron tried to interrupt her. 'Would you please have the common courtesy to let me finish!? As I was saying, a dying man's wish is extremely important. Even murderers that have been sentenced to death have the right to make a last request. Not executing the dying persons' wish is considered extremely disrespectful. Now it may sound strange to you, but I was brought up in the Muggle world, and a lot of those morals and values stick with me, even though I am a witch.'
'Are you done?' Ginny asked. Hermione nodded. 'For now, I'm done.'
'Good, because I would just like to point out that we did comply with Kreacher's wish. The note didn't say that he wanted to be mounted on the wall, it said he wanted to be joined with his forefathers. And we did join him with them, now didn't we.'
Hermione seemed to have anticipated this particular attack, because she was quick to reply. 'You and I both know that that is not what Kreacher meant, Ginny, so don't even start. I'm not saying that we should have mounted him on the wall, far from it. I just think we might have been a bit more considerate of his wish. We didn't have to burn those house elf heads and Kreacher. We could have given them a proper burial or something. I'm just saying we didn't explore all the options.'
Harry had listened to Hermione in shocked recognition. Now, everyone looked at him, apparently awaiting another temper tantrum, or at least some shouting. But Harry managed to surprise all of them, by answering quietly. 'You're right, Hermione. Last year I have been acting like a bit of a wanker. I do however mean to change that, and I've already been working on improving my temper. I was meaning to apologize for that. It will not be as spontaneous any more, but I'm apologizing to all of you. Now, I also apologize for saying that you valued Kreacher more than Sirius. You probably are mourning for him too.'
Harry was slightly amused by the look on his friends' faces. Their eyes were expressing utter disbelief and their mouths seemed to be dropping towards the floor. At least they were expressing the sentiments Harry had expected when he had been planning for his public apology. Of course, the way it came to be had been influenced by Hermione's outburst, but maybe that was for the best. Now the apology would be out of the way, and they would be able to start freshly again.
'Er- guys, could you please close your mouths, you never know what might fly in them. Now, Hermione, as to Mrs Weasley not recognizing Kreacher's dying wish, I still stand behind my opinion of that. In my opinion, that vile excuse for a house elf did not deserve a dying wish. I also agree with Ginny, he was indeed reunited with his forefathers. I don't want to fight you on this one, because I know it will not make a difference. You will always feel the way you do, as will I. What do you say to agreeing to disagree?'
Hermione, still speechless, threw her arms around Harry's neck. Ron, in the meanwhile, poked Harry a couple of times in the side.
Harry, Hermione still clinging to his neck, looked at Ron questioningly. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, mate?'
Ron shrugged. 'I'm just wondering if it's really you, is all. You are behaving kind of odd. I mean, what did you do to Harry-the-time-bomb?'
Harry grinned. 'I think I might have done a bit of growing up over the last couple of weeks. I've been spending great amounts of time with Remus and Dumbledore, they might have rubbed off on me a bit. Don't worry, though, I still get angry quite often.'
Hermione finally seemed to be coming to her senses and let go of Harry's neck. She punched him in the chest a couple of times, before saying, 'You're impossible, Harry, you do know that?'
Harry chuckled. 'Yes, Hermione, I know that all to well. And I'm very glad I have friends just as impossible as me to put up with that.'
'Hey,' Ginny interjected, 'I resent that! True, and I mean this as lovingly as can be, Ron can be quite a pain, and Hermione could do with a bit less time spent with books, but there's nothing impossible about me!'
Harry lifted an eyebrow as he looked straight into her eyes. 'Have you forgotten that for several years you couldn't speak to me. And if I tried to speak to you, you would either stick your elbow in a butter dish or run out of the room.'
Ginny face started to colour a deep red, which Harry found quite endearing. Nevertheless, he decided to save her this time. 'So, when are you guys going to show me those rooms?'
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The day passed quickly, and Harry soon found himself lying in bed. Ron's snores were coming from the other side of the room, but that was the only sound that was disturbing the quiet in the room. During the day, Harry had found out that Phineas' portrait had been moved to the dining room. Because they never used the dining room, Harry felt he might have seen the last of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts.
They had spent the day touring the house, and planning what they might be able to do with the other rooms. Hermione's and Ginny's room was a lot girlier than the others, but it still looked quite good. Two walls had been painted white, and the other two the same deep red as the wall in the kitchen. Another Gryffindor crest had been painted on one of the red walls, and the beds were covered with quilts in several shades of pink.
The Weasley's room had been painted yellow, and the bed was sporting a bright red throw. All in all, it looked like sunlight was streaming into the room, even though there weren't any windows.
The guest room that had been done up was done in much the same style as Harry's and Ron's. However, there were some large scorch marks on the wooden floor and walls. Obviously, the twins used that room when they came to visit on the weekends.
Exhausted from the busy day, Harry fell into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.
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A/N: So, this was supposed to be chapter 5, not those sad 6 pages I posted before Easter. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know how you liked it. Finishing this chapter was a pretty straining process, I'm still not sure if I'm totally happy about it. So your reviews are very important.
Also, I have yet to receive a comment on an important happening in this chapter. Catch on, people!
A/N: I give up on trying to find out how to work italics, because obviously HTML is hating me. I can't figure it out. Once more I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review, much appreciated. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, I enjoyed writing it.
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The next morning, Harry woke up with a feeling of both dread and anticipation. He was leaving! He was getting out of Privet Drive! He just didn't like to think about where he was going. It had been plain from his friends' letters that they were not staying at The Burrow. Harry's mind tried to block out the place where they would most likely be.
Number 12, Grimmauld Place, as the house where Sirius had grown up, as the house that Sirius had hated, was not the friendliest of houses. If anything, far from that. It was a dark house, filled with dark magic. But that wasn't the most important reason that Harry dreaded going there. It would always remind him of Sirius.
However, the wish to get away from his relatives and to see his friends was too strong. If they were at Grimmauld Place, then he would be there with them. It would hurt, it would probably hurt a lot, but Harry needed his friends. He had always known that, but the talks with Dumbledore and Remus had made that fact even clearer. In the end, he might be alone, but he didn't have to get to the end by himself. That, at least, had he remembered from his first talk with Dumbledore during summer.
But this wasn't the time for dark thoughts. Facing more memories of Sirius would be hard enough without thoughts about prophecies, Dark Lords, and saving the world.
He had to pack. He was leaving. He would see Ron, Hermione, the twins and Ginny soon. Ginny. She had been a most unexpected faithful correspondent. He had received 2 letters every week, and most were obviously designed to make him laugh. Ginny had turned out to be a genius at vividly describing how Fred and George tried to test their new products on Ron, Hermione and herself. Not surprisingly, Ron had turned out to be the easiest target, falling prey to pranks several times during the weekends that the twins came over to visit. Harry didn't know why she had taken to writing him, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.
And so Harry's thoughts continued while he got dressed and packed his trunk.
At midday, he ventured downstairs. Once again, it seemed that his aunt was the only person in the house.
'Aunt Petunia,' said Harry, 'I'll be leaving today, so I won't see you until next year. So –er- that's all I wanted to say really. See ya.'
Aunt Petunia looked up from her women's magazine, only to look down again.
Harry turned on his heel and walked out of the room. What did he expect? He should have known better. Had he expected a hug? A tearful goodbye? No, he didn't even want that. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but this cold response somehow hadn't been it. Although they still didn't get along, ever since their conversation Harry had thought there was a mutual agreement of politeness.
As he got to the stairs, he heard his aunt's voice. 'Harry?' she called out tentatively. Harry walked back to the room and popped his head around the door. He just looked at his aunt, whose eyes were still fixed on the magazine in her lap. Her eyes didn't seem to be moving, however.
'Try not to get yourself killed, you hear. It would be quite difficult to explain to the neighbours.'
Seething, Harry stormed back toward the stairs. She was so selfish, so incredibly selfish!
But as fast as the anger had risen up inside him, it disappeared again. Instead, he just felt sad. Sad, and afraid. Sad, afraid and alone.
'Snap out of it, Harry!' he told himself. 'You're not feeling sad, or afraid, or alone. Well, you are, but not right now. What the hell is wrong with you? Where did those feelings come from? Great, now you're talking to yourself inside your head. Maybe the Daily Prophet was right all along. Maybe you're just a nutter!'
Harry snapped out of the conversation in his head. Somehow, though Harry didn't understand how or why, he had picked up on someone else's feelings. As there was nobody else in the house, it must have been Aunt Petunia.
At least now he could see that his aunt was even worse than he was at expressing feelings. He couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her. She knew that Voldemort was back, and from her family, Harry was the only person who understood what that meant. Even though they hadn't talked since the revelations in the kitchen, Harry still could-.
His train of thought was interrupted as the doorbell rang. Being closest to the door, Harry opened it.
In front of him stood a part of, to most people, strange looking men and women.
There was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, who looked rather eerie with his spinning magical eye, even though it was partly hidden by a bowler hat. The chunk that was missing from his nose didn't make him a more pleasant sight. Mr Weasley, who had obviously had a lot of fun with picking out Muggle clothes, and was wearing baggy pinstripe pants and a pink sweater with a pony on it. Tonks apparently felt she hadn't shocked Aunt Petunia enough at Kings Cross, and was now sporting hair that was streaked in all the colours of the rainbow, down to her waist. Bill Weasley, who didn't seem different, but would still look repulsive to Aunt Petunia, with a fang dangling from his ear, and his long hair in a ponytail. The last of the party was Hestia Jones, a solemn looking witch who had been part of his rescue party last year, and who obviously felt she didn't need to wear Muggle-clothes, as she was clad in black robes.
After they were through with greeting Harry, they felt the need to greet Aunt Petunia as well. Of course, Harry made no objection.
Aunt Petunia looked positively horrified and personally insulted at the sight of the group of wizards and witches in front of her. Tonks seemed to have the most fun watching Aunt Petunia struggle to be at least semi-polite to people whom obviously disgusted her.
Too soon, Mr Weasley decided it was time to get Harry's things and go, and the whole party moved upstairs.
'Excuse me,' Harry asked to no one in particular, 'but how are we going where we're going? We don't have a fire place, and surely we can go on broom during the day.'
'Portkey,' Moody grumbled, 'Ministry's handing them out like hot buns now there's no one in particular in charge.'
At this news, Harry looked at Mr Weasley, horror-struck. 'No one in charge? But-. How? Why-?'
'There, there,' said Mr Weasley, 'Mad-Eye is making it sound worse than it is. Of course there are people in charge. But with Fudge out of the way, it's a lot easier to get things done our way, is all.'
Harry felt a bit more relieved while he went to get his things, but one thing was still bothering him. 'But,' he said, 'if we're going via Portkey, surely there's no need for a guard of five. I mean, Tonks and I have been running around the neighbourhood by ourselves all summer.'
'Constant vigilance, Harry,' came Moody's answer. 'You never know what will happen. And obviously you have no idea just how many people were watching over you every time you were out.'
True. Of this, Harry hadn't the faintest idea. And somehow, he thought it might be better if he didn't know.
'Good, Harry, everyone, if you would be so kind?' said Mr Weasley while holding out a piece of driftwood. 'Let's get going.'
As Harry placed his finger on the Portkey, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel. Struggling to hold on to his trunk (fortunately Tonks had taken Hedwig's cage and Bill his broom) he was banging into the other while travelling through the familiar whirl of colour and sound.
With a bang, Harry landed flat on his face on a stone floor, and had the wind knocked out of him. Listening to the moans around him, he gathered that the others hadn't experienced a much better landing.
Struggling to get back on his feet, he heard Tonks moan beside him 'Whoever made that Portkey deserves a good spanking. That's the worst Portkey trip I've ever had.'
Looking around him, Harry saw that they were standing in a hallway much like the one in Grimmauld Place. Only, this hallway was painted a crisp white, and didn't have insulting portraits plastered all the way along it. Instead, there were photos of Harry, Ron and Hermione, Harry's parents, Lupin and Sirius. Harry felt a lump rising in his throat. Swallowing it back, Harry looked questioningly at Tonks, not yet trusting his voice.
'Yup Harry,' she look at him, beaming, 'this really is Grimmauld Place, although I shouldn't say any more just now. Let's take your things upstairs.'
Not believing his eyes, Harry followed her to the room Ron and him had shared last summer.
'But,' he stammered, 'but, Mrs Black?'
The others made their way to the kitchen as Tonks answered. 'Burnt her right off the wall,' Tonks grinned. 'Well, actually Sirius did,' she added sadly. 'A Permanent Sticking Charm on an object that can be burned, is nothing without an Anti Fire Charm. Seems like the old broad hadn't covered all her bases. Sirius wanted it to be a surprise, so he didn't tell you. He thought that-,' Tonks' eyes were now brimming with tears, 'he thought that if he would make the house look better, you might want to live with him.'
Harry had to swallow and even greater lump back. He couldn't believe his godfather had done that for him. Burnt his own mother (albeit her portrait) off the wall. Harry would have loved living with Sirius. He just hoped Sirius had known that.
As they made their way up the stairs, Harry noticed the house elf head were all gone. Voice trembling, he said 'Sirius did all this? On his own?'
Tonks shook her head sadly. 'No. We were planning to, but he only got to finish the hallway. The rest was done by some of the Order and your friends. They've been quite busy, you know.'
As they reached the bedroom, Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The furniture was still the same, but the room couldn't have been more different. The walls had been pained, Harry didn't know what to call it, beige? Light brown? Whatever it was called, it looked very nice. The beds were covered with quilts in several shades of blue, and where the portrait of Phineas had been last year, hung a large pencil drawing of a big black dog.
As though hypnotized, Harry walked toward it to take a better look. In the left hand corner of the drawing it read: 'To Padfoot, Happy 21st! Love, Lily.'
Harry turned around. 'My mother drew?'
Tonks nodded. 'I didn't know either until we came across that drawing. Don't get upset, Harry, but we needed some papers of the Order that were in Sirius' room, and while looking for it, we came across that drawing. Several people thought you might like it.'
Harry just nodded in reply. He did like it. Better, he loved it. And even though he felt a pang of anger when Tonks said they had been in Sirius room, he could understand it.
'Come on, Harry, let's go to the kitchen. Molly has made apple crumble, and I know there are some people that are dying to see you.'
As Harry walked into the kitchen, his jaw dropped in surprise once more, but now, there was now time to ask any questions or look around. He heard a shriek to his left, and the wind got knocked out of him once more as Hermione wrapped him in a hug.
'Hermione-. Need. Air. Breathe.' Harry gasped.
'Oh, sorry,' Hermione muttered as she let go, 'I was just glad to see you.'
'I'm glad to see you too. It's just that us mortals need a regular intake of oxygen to survive.'
Hermione tried to scowl at Harry, while Ron slapped him on the back. 'Good to see you, mate. You look better than I expected. You're beefing up a bit.'
Harry felt bad he wasn't able to return the compliment. Ron looked like he'd lost some weight, and dark circles had appeared under his eyes. Yet, he managed to smile and said, 'Good to see you too, Ron.'
As the three friends made their way to the table, he saw Ginny sitting at the far end. 'Hey Harry,' she waited while giving him a wave, 'good to have you back with us.'
'Hi Ginny,' Harry waved back, 'thanks for the letters.'
At this, he saw Ron shoot him a questioning look, and Ginny's ears turned slightly pink.
Harry had noticed that Ron and Ginny's letters weren't delivered together anymore, but he hadn't expected Ron to know nothing about them.
Before he knew it, he was wrapped in yet another hug. 'Oh Harry,' Mrs Weasley said softly, 'it's so good to have you back. My, it actually looks like those Muggles have been taking a bit better care of you, though you obviously haven't been sleeping properly-'
Harry reckoned Mrs Weasley could have gone on for quite some time, if Ron hadn't interrupted her.
'Mum, maybe Harry would like to have a look at the kitchen first.' His voice was dripping with anticipation and pride.
After telling Mrs Weasley he was very glad to see her, too, and thanking her for getting him out of Privet Drive, he finally managed to take a look around.
Like in his room, the furniture had remained the same, but the kitchen was transformed. It had all been painted the same crisp white as the hallway, except for the wall that held the fireplace. That wall had been painted a deep dark red, and over the fireplace, the crest of Gryffindor had been painted.
Stunned, he looked over at his friends, who all had big smiles on their faces. 'Surprise!' they said.
Harry felt like he might break down if he tried to speak. It was obvious how much work had gone into this. Last summer they had been cleaning every day, and he hadn't seen a difference. Now, both the hallway upstairs and downstairs were painted and looked friendly. His room had been redecorated, as had the kitchen. And that Gryffindor crest over the fireplace looked like it had always been there. Grimmauld Place almost felt like a home now.
Of course, it would never be a home without Sirius. Sirius, who had most likely been the instigator of these developments.
Harry didn't know how he would ever be able to repay his friends. With the house so transformed, it reminded him a bit less of his godfather.
'Well,' said Hermione tentatively, 'do you like it? You know, we did our best but we didn't really know-. I mean, we didn't want to- You know, without your –'
Hermione, of all people, was at a loss for words. None of them had forgotten Harry's about big blow-up last summer, or the ones he had had during the schoolyear, and she knew that Harry wasn't a big fan of surprises. It was obvious Harry hated being out of the loop.
He saw his friends sigh with relief when he said, 'It's wonderful, guys. I love it. How long have you been working on this? Surely you must have spent a lot of time painting and cleaning?'
'No worries, mate,' Ron answered. We've been here for almost four weeks, and we're hardly ever able to go outside. Besides keeping us busy, it was a great deal of fun too.'
Ginny nodded. 'Because we can't use magic during the holidays we did it all by hand. Of course Tonks, Remus, Dad, Bill, George and Fred were able to use a bit of magic, but they were having a lot of fun doing it by hand as well.'
Harry still felt stunned. This transformation was such a great surprise and yet there was something that didn't sit well with him. Before he had said that he loved it, he felt that his friends were almost afraid of him. Like they were afraid he wouldn't like it and blow up like he had so many times last year. Had it really been that bad? When his friends had tried to help him, had he really been ungrateful so often?
Harry knew the answers to those questions only too well, although he didn't like to admit it. He had been behaving pretty badly last year. And he couldn't blame it all on being a teenager, that much he knew too. Hermione was a teenager, so was Ron, and so were most of his other friends. They didn't blow up at their friends over every little thing. He knew that he somehow would have to get rid of the terrible temper, or at least learn to control it. Over summer, he had shouted at Remus and Dumbledore several times, and they had always remained calm with him.
He knew that the least he could do was try to learn something from their tempers. He was learning already, but he still had a long way to go.
'Earth to Harry! Come in Harry!' Hermione was waving a hand in front of his face. 'Ah, there you are. Deep in thought as always. As I was just telling you, you haven't seen it all yet. We've also redecorated the room Ginny and I share, Mrs and Mrs Weasley's room and one of the guest rooms. But there's lots more to be done, so now that you're here, you can start giving us a hand.'
'Sure,' said Harry. 'I've kept pretty busy during the last couple of weeks, but I think I won't be doing a lot of running anymore.' Harry looked over at Tonks, who seemed to be starting her third serve of apple crumble. 'Hey, Tonks, easy on the crumble. I haven't had any yet!'
Tonks smiled guiltily at Harry. 'Sorry, but Molly's cooking is to die for. And no, you won't be doing any more running, but that doesn't mean your training is going to end. We'll be continuing martial arts and our other exercises three times a week. My sodding supervisor has changed my work schedule, so I can't be around as much anymore. Ron will be joining us for training too, but no doubt he will want to tell you about that himself.'
'Later, mate,' was Ron's answer. 'Let's have some of mum's crumble first, before Tonks decides to polish it all off!'
Hestia Jones, Mr Weasley, Bill and Moody all stood up as one and said that sadly, they had some business to attend to. Obviously, the former 3 all had jobs to return to, and Moody probably had to do something for the Order.
As Harry helped himself to a large portion of apple crumble, he said, 'Now that you mention it, Tonks. How did you manage to train with me all those mornings? You must have had Auror work and Order duties as well?'
Tonks laughed. 'Well, fortunately Harry, you were my main Order duty, as you so eloquently put it. And I was able to shuffle around some shifts at work, so that I would only work afternoons and nights. Unfortunately, my supervisor found out and wants me to start working the shifts that are assigned to me. '
After enjoying his crumble in silence for a while, the Gryffindor crest caught Harry's eyes once more. 'And who painted that crest? There's so much detail in it. And it almost looks like it stands out a bit from the wall. It's wonderful.'
Ginny's ears turned slightly pink once more, although she seemed to have more control over her blushing than she used to. 'That would have been me. And thanks for the compliment.'
'I didn't know you could draw, Ginny.'
'Well Harry, there's a lot of things you don't know about me.'
And Harry had to agree with her on that. She had surprised him in more ways than once last year, and had proven that she shouldn't be underestimated. Still, the mysterious look in her eyes mystified Harry.
When Ron had finished his third plate of crumble, they all decided to take Harry on a tour of the renovated rooms. Just before they left the kitchen, Mrs Weasley called him back. "Harry, could you come here for a second? Now, I've been meaning to ask you; what kind of cake would you like tomorrow?
'Cake?' Harry said with a puzzled expression.
'Yes, silly. Birthday cake. You know, to eat at your birthday party tomorrow night.'
'Birthday party?' Harry said while the puzzled look grew even more puzzled. 'Birthday party? What party? I've never had a birthday party.'
Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears almost instantaneously as she wrapped Harry in a big hug, muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'those cursed Muggles'. Although Harry often got annoyed at Mrs Weasley fretting over him and acting like she needed to protect him from the big, bad world, he didn't really mind this time. She was actually going to throw him a birthday party? He could hardly believe his ears, and he felt like his heart would burst out of his chest with gratitude and excitement.
After a short while, it seemed that Mrs Weasley had been able to compose herself slightly and said, 'You didn't answer my question, Harry. Tell me, what kind of birthday cake would you like?'.
Lacking experience in choosing a flavour for a birthday cake, and still feeling slightly overwhelmed, Harry chose the only flavour he could think of. Chocolate.
Hermione, Ron and Ginny had been waiting for him on the other side of the door, and all looked at him questioningly. Hermione was the first to speak. 'Harry, truly, have you never had a birthday party?'
Harry shook his head. 'No. I thought that was common knowledge. After all, I have told you about the kinds of presents the Dursleys usually give me.'
Hermione and Ginny nodded sadly, their eyes investigating the tips of their socks. Harry's mind drifted off for a second as he thought, 'Hey, so I'm not the only one who does that when I don't want to face up to things.'
'We knew about all that, mate,' said Ron, 'but I don't think it ever occurred to either of us that you never had a birthday party. Every kid deserves a party in their honour once a year. Well, I guess we will just have to make up for 15 uncelebrated birthdays this time. Usually, 16 isn't such a big deal, with 17 being coming of age, but I reckon we can get away with a big party in this case.'
Harry's heart grew once more at his friend's everlasting loyalty as he said, 'No need to go out of your way, you know. You've all done so much already, with the house-'
'Yes, the house,' Ginny interrupted, 'we're almost forgetting about the grand tour. Come on, Harry, let's get going!'
Harry smiled at Ginny's enthusiasm. He was sure the he would be excited to show his work too, if he had been painting and renovating for weeks. 'Sure, what are we waiting for? Where are we going first?' The group started towards the stairs as something suddenly hit Harry. 'Kreacher!' He exclaimed. 'Where has that vile excuse of an house elf gotten off to?'
Ron looked at him with a look of glee, causing Hermione to scowl. 'Tried to chop his head off, that one. Probably thought he had fulfilled his purpose in serving the Black family. Dad discovered him. He had tried to build his own guillotine and he released the blade himself. Pity no one told him the blade should sever the spinal cord first, or you'll bleed to death. Which is exactly what happened. Well, serves him right is all I can say about that.' As Ron sniggered Hermione looked at him with a look of utter disgust.
'Ron! You know that I feel as vengeful as any of you about what Kreacher did. But he was a product of how he was raised and treated. If wizardkind didn't feel it was their right to abuse house elves, things might have turned out differently. And that's what I'm trying to get through to everyone with S.P.E.W-.'
'No, no,' Ron moaned (and Harry silently agreed with him), 'not Spew again! Do you still refuse to see that 99% of the house elves are happy with the way things are right now!? Anyway, Harry, I hadn't finished the story yet. This all happened just after we had gotten back here from school. When Dad discovered Kreacher, he also found a note in which Kreacher asked to be joined with his forefathers. Well, joined with them he was. Mum spent the morning blasting the heads of the wall. I swear, I don't think I've ever seen her that furious, not even with Fred and George. After she blasted the last head off the wall, she moved them all into the kitchen and burned them in the fireplace. Right along with Kreacher's head and body. The days after that, everyone went around with rags tied over their mouths and noses because of the stench.'
Hermione still looked as if she disapproved of the whole thing, which caused irritation with Harry. 'If you don't like it, Hermione, what do you think would have been a suitable punishment for that little toerag? Because of his treason, Sirius died, and all of you got hurt. We couldn't have ousted him, he would have gone straight to Voldemort. And would you really have liked being around him, facing his mad excitement at having succeeded? Because he would have been very happy, Hermione. He would have never let us forget what he had done, and I probably would have killed him for it. Besides, his death wasn't even our fault. He killed himself, didn't he? So what would you have suggested, Hermione? Tell me, because I'm dying to know why Kreacher was more important to you than Sirius!'
Hermione sobbed silently as Ginny said, 'That was way harsh, Harry, -.'
But Hermione pulled herself together and interrupted. 'Thanks Ginny, but I can defend myself on this one.' She took a deep breath as she looked Harry straight into his eyes. 'Firstly, I would like you to know that I'm not going to put up with any more of your crap. You have a right to be angry where it concerns Sirius, and you have a right to be angry about a lot of other things as well. However, I'm not going to let you take your frustration out on us every time, Harry. Last year was enough. Secondly, you have no right to imply that I do not miss Sirius, or that I'm not hurting as much as any other person that knew him. That comment was both uncalled for and cruel. Thirdly, in the Muggle world a lot of value is placed on respecting a dying man's wish. I KNOW KREACHER WAS NOT A MAN!' she cried exasperatedly as Ron tried to interrupt her. 'Would you please have the common courtesy to let me finish!? As I was saying, a dying man's wish is extremely important. Even murderers that have been sentenced to death have the right to make a last request. Not executing the dying persons' wish is considered extremely disrespectful. Now it may sound strange to you, but I was brought up in the Muggle world, and a lot of those morals and values stick with me, even though I am a witch.'
'Are you done?' Ginny asked. Hermione nodded. 'For now, I'm done.'
'Good, because I would just like to point out that we did comply with Kreacher's wish. The note didn't say that he wanted to be mounted on the wall, it said he wanted to be joined with his forefathers. And we did join him with them, now didn't we.'
Hermione seemed to have anticipated this particular attack, because she was quick to reply. 'You and I both know that that is not what Kreacher meant, Ginny, so don't even start. I'm not saying that we should have mounted him on the wall, far from it. I just think we might have been a bit more considerate of his wish. We didn't have to burn those house elf heads and Kreacher. We could have given them a proper burial or something. I'm just saying we didn't explore all the options.'
Harry had listened to Hermione in shocked recognition. Now, everyone looked at him, apparently awaiting another temper tantrum, or at least some shouting. But Harry managed to surprise all of them, by answering quietly. 'You're right, Hermione. Last year I have been acting like a bit of a wanker. I do however mean to change that, and I've already been working on improving my temper. I was meaning to apologize for that. It will not be as spontaneous any more, but I'm apologizing to all of you. Now, I also apologize for saying that you valued Kreacher more than Sirius. You probably are mourning for him too.'
Harry was slightly amused by the look on his friends' faces. Their eyes were expressing utter disbelief and their mouths seemed to be dropping towards the floor. At least they were expressing the sentiments Harry had expected when he had been planning for his public apology. Of course, the way it came to be had been influenced by Hermione's outburst, but maybe that was for the best. Now the apology would be out of the way, and they would be able to start freshly again.
'Er- guys, could you please close your mouths, you never know what might fly in them. Now, Hermione, as to Mrs Weasley not recognizing Kreacher's dying wish, I still stand behind my opinion of that. In my opinion, that vile excuse for a house elf did not deserve a dying wish. I also agree with Ginny, he was indeed reunited with his forefathers. I don't want to fight you on this one, because I know it will not make a difference. You will always feel the way you do, as will I. What do you say to agreeing to disagree?'
Hermione, still speechless, threw her arms around Harry's neck. Ron, in the meanwhile, poked Harry a couple of times in the side.
Harry, Hermione still clinging to his neck, looked at Ron questioningly. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, mate?'
Ron shrugged. 'I'm just wondering if it's really you, is all. You are behaving kind of odd. I mean, what did you do to Harry-the-time-bomb?'
Harry grinned. 'I think I might have done a bit of growing up over the last couple of weeks. I've been spending great amounts of time with Remus and Dumbledore, they might have rubbed off on me a bit. Don't worry, though, I still get angry quite often.'
Hermione finally seemed to be coming to her senses and let go of Harry's neck. She punched him in the chest a couple of times, before saying, 'You're impossible, Harry, you do know that?'
Harry chuckled. 'Yes, Hermione, I know that all to well. And I'm very glad I have friends just as impossible as me to put up with that.'
'Hey,' Ginny interjected, 'I resent that! True, and I mean this as lovingly as can be, Ron can be quite a pain, and Hermione could do with a bit less time spent with books, but there's nothing impossible about me!'
Harry lifted an eyebrow as he looked straight into her eyes. 'Have you forgotten that for several years you couldn't speak to me. And if I tried to speak to you, you would either stick your elbow in a butter dish or run out of the room.'
Ginny face started to colour a deep red, which Harry found quite endearing. Nevertheless, he decided to save her this time. 'So, when are you guys going to show me those rooms?'
* * *
The day passed quickly, and Harry soon found himself lying in bed. Ron's snores were coming from the other side of the room, but that was the only sound that was disturbing the quiet in the room. During the day, Harry had found out that Phineas' portrait had been moved to the dining room. Because they never used the dining room, Harry felt he might have seen the last of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts.
They had spent the day touring the house, and planning what they might be able to do with the other rooms. Hermione's and Ginny's room was a lot girlier than the others, but it still looked quite good. Two walls had been painted white, and the other two the same deep red as the wall in the kitchen. Another Gryffindor crest had been painted on one of the red walls, and the beds were covered with quilts in several shades of pink.
The Weasley's room had been painted yellow, and the bed was sporting a bright red throw. All in all, it looked like sunlight was streaming into the room, even though there weren't any windows.
The guest room that had been done up was done in much the same style as Harry's and Ron's. However, there were some large scorch marks on the wooden floor and walls. Obviously, the twins used that room when they came to visit on the weekends.
Exhausted from the busy day, Harry fell into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.
* * *
A/N: So, this was supposed to be chapter 5, not those sad 6 pages I posted before Easter. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know how you liked it. Finishing this chapter was a pretty straining process, I'm still not sure if I'm totally happy about it. So your reviews are very important.
Also, I have yet to receive a comment on an important happening in this chapter. Catch on, people!