Disclaimer:
The chapter title is of course borrowed from 'The Verve. I don't own it or
anything. I also don't Harry Potter or his universe. I'm just borrowing
that too.
A/N: The full-length 5th chapter has been uploaded, so make sure you read that before you continue with this chapter. As I said last Thursday, the chapter I posted wasn't complete. It is now about 6 pages longer.
* * *
6: Bittersweet Symphony
The following morning, Harry woke up to find himself alone in the room. He wondered what time it was, and reckoned if Ron was up, surely that would mean that it was past 10. Stomach grumbling, he got dressed and made his way to the kitchen.
When he walked into the kitchen he couldn't believe his eyes. The whole room had been decorated in yellow and red streamers. Mrs Weasley, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting at the kitchen table and chorused 'Happy Birthday, Harry!'.
As Harry walked over to join them, a string of little coloured flags caught his eye. Every flag was showing a Muggle photo of Harry, and underneath each photo it read: 'A Harry Birthday'. Although there was no doubt in Harry's mind who had made those, he still pointed at them and asked, 'How did those get in here?'.
Ginny grinned widely as she said, 'Dobby sent them over. He thought you might like them. He also sent over a birthday present and a card. You've got yourself a big fan in that one, Harry.'
Mrs Weasley got up and gave Harry a hug. 'Happy birthday, dear. I hope you don't mind waiting for a bit with the cake. Tonight there will be some more people here for your birthday. As Arthur won't be here until tonight, you will also have to wait for your present a bit. Now, how would you like your eggs this morning? Fried, boiled, poched, scrambled?'
Harry smiled at Mrs Weasley. 'Scrambled would be great, thanks. And I have no problem with waiting, Mrs Weasley. There are actually people coming over here for my birthday?'
Because Mrs Weasley was already busying herself making breakfast, Ron answered that question. 'Yeah mate, lots of people. Fred and George, of course, Bill, Tonks, Professor Lupin, Dad, as Mum already said, Dung, and Dumbledore might make an appearance also, I believe. Seamus, Neville and Luna wanted to come too, when they found out we were all together, but Dumbledore reckons it's not safe. He doesn't want too many people to know our location. Fair enough, probably, but it still would have been nice to have them here, hey? Oh, and I almost forgot, guess who's coming too? You'll never guess, I'll tell you that.'
Here Hermione interrupted. 'No Ron, he'll never guess. At least not when you keep blabbering like that. Although Ron is right, Harry, you'll never guess.'
Harry tried to think about who had been missing from the people Ron had mentioned before. 'Dean?' he said. But as soon as he had said it he knew he had made a mistake. For once, Ginny's face didn't turn red. Instead, it actually turned paler. Ron's face, however, turned almost crimson and his hands turned into fists.
'No, not Dean,' Hermione said in a hushed voice, 'I don't think Dean would be very welcome here at the moment.'
Harry knew better than to inquire further, and he quickly busied himself with pouring a glass of pumpkin juice.
While waiting for the others to get control over their emotions, Hermione provided a good distraction. 'You still didn't guess correctly, though. It's Fleur Delacour. Apparently, she and Bill are 'good friends' and she's coming with him.'
Harry didn't actually understand why Fleur would come to his birthday, but he didn't mind either. When he had met her at the start of the Triwizard Tournament he hadn't particularly liked her, but their relationship (if that's what you could call it) had improved after the second task.
Ron and Ginny still seemed to be lost in thought, so Hermione started a new approach. 'You may not get some of your gifts until tonight, but here's mine.' Hermione handed Harry a gift that undoubtedly was a book. And quite a large book too.
Looking slightly apprehensive, Harry opened the gift. Even though his instincts had been right, the book wasn't anything like he had expected. Harry had anticipated a book on scar-management, or how to vanquish Dark Wizards, or even how to make your broom safer. However, it seemed that Hermione had bought him a...a novel? In front of him lay a large book titled 'Lord of the Rings'.
Harry shot a look of confusion at Hermione. 'What kind of book is this? I've never heard of it.'
'You wouldn't have, Harry, it's a Muggle book. You probably would have been too young to have heard about it in Muggle school. I read it last summer, and it's really quite interesting. There are wizards, and other magical creatures in it as well, even though those have been made up. I think you might like it, Harry. The main character goes on a quest he really doesn't want to go on, but it seems that fate has chosen him.' Hermione looked down and started studying the leftovers on her plate.
Harry wondered how she would know. How would she know that he too had been chosen by fate to do something he really didn't want to do? Of course, Hermione was a lot smarter than most people, but it still struck him as odd. However, he decided to let it slide for now. He was planning to tell them about the prophecy later in the week, he could ask her then.
In the meantime, Ron and Ginny seemed to have returned to their normal selves, and they both reached for something under their chairs. Ron was the first to present his gift.
'Here you go, mate. Happy Sixteenth!'
Harry unwrapped a large box filled with Honeydukes finest sweets. 'Thanks Ron, I was running a bit low on sugar. I feared I would have to order some chocolate frogs by owl!'
Ron grinned. 'No need to worry about those things. I'm quite content giving you sweets for your birthday and Christmas. As we're sharing a room, it always means I'll end up with some of it as well.'
'Ronald Weasley!' Mrs Weasley said indignantly. 'How can you be so selfish! That is not how your father and I raised you.'
'It's okay, Mrs Weasley,' said Harry, 'I'm more than happy to share with Ron. If he wouldn't eat half of all the sweets I got I would be as fat as Dudley by now.'
Ginny's gift was a rolled up piece of parchment with a red ribbon tied around it.
'Awesome, Ginny,' Harry laughed, 'You've done all my homework for me! Now that's what I call a great gift!'
'Very funny, Harry,' Ginny tried to scowl at him, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. 'Just open it, will you!'
Harry took the ribbon off and carefully unrolled the sheet of parchment. He gasped when he saw what had been drawn on the parchment. A group of five people were standing in a clearing in a forest, arms around each other's shoulders. On the left was Remus, a lot younger, and smiling broadly. His arm was around Sirius' shoulders, and he was grinning mischievously. The index and middle finger of his left hand were forming a 'V' over a girl's head. Lily. She wasn't paying attention as her head was slightly inclined to the boy on her right. She looked at him lovingly. At first, Harry thought his dad was the boy next to her, but then his eyes came across the scar. It was him! He was in the drawing as well, grinning widely. The last person in line was his dad, poking Harry seemingly playfully in the side. Over the treetops Harry could see the turrets of Hogwarts. He was absolutely speechless.
He looked back at Ginny, breathing deeply through his nose and trying to force back some tears. 'How... How did you-? You never saw-. It's -. Thank you.'
'Professor Dumbledore provided me with a group photo of your mother and the Marauders. I didn't really know what Sirius and Professor Lupin looked like when they were in school. Of course I've seen scores of photo's of your parents in history books. So, you like it?' she asked with a slight hint of nervousness in her voice.
'I love it, Ginny, thank you so much. I really don't know what to say. You must have spent a lot of time drawing this.'
Hermione cut in. 'Yes, she spent a lot of time working on it. And she didn't allow any of us to see it before she had given it to you. So, would you mind showing us too?'
Harry reluctantly passed the paper to Hermione, who gasped when she looked at the drawing. 'Ginny, this is wonderful! I knew you could draw, but this is as clear as a Muggle photo. It's beautiful.'
Mrs Weasley brought Harry's breakfast over to the table, and looked at the drawing over Hermione's shoulder. 'Oh dear, it's brilliant. Your drawing really has improved over the last year. You seem to have captured everyone's essence quite nicely. What photo did you use to draw Harry from?'
'Actually,' Ginny said, face flushing slightly, 'I drew him from memory. I couldn't find a photo that seemed to portray what I wanted to draw.'
* * *
The rest of the day passed rather quickly. Harry had been meaning to ask Ron about the details of brainscarring, but it became obvious Ron didn't think it was the right time. He had been reluctant to put the details in a letter, so all Harry knew about it was what Ron had written about it during the first week of summer.
He had also meant to ask about the reaction Ron and Ginny had had to Harry mentioning Dean, but Hermione had warned him not to. 'Ginny will tell you in her own time, I am sure. If she doesn't want to talk about it, then that's her good right,' Hermione had said.
Not wanting to solicit any fights on his birthday, Harry settled for playing Exploding Snap, Gobstones and chess.
Soon, it was late afternoon, and the first birthday guests were appearing. Fred and George flooed into the kitchen, carrying a large box.
'Happy birthday, Harry,' they chanted. They both shot a look at the flags, but George was first to speak. 'Nice flags, Harry. Who came up with those? Let me guess, president of the Harry Potter fan club, Colin Creevey.'
Harry gasped. 'Colin started a fan club?'
Fred chuckled and looked at his brother. 'Not yet, Harry, but who knows, we might be able to give him an idea. You still haven't answered, though, did Colin send those over?'
'For your information,' Hermione apparently decided she had to set something right, 'Colin has gotten over most of his hero worship. It was Dobby that sent those flags over, and I think it was a very nice gesture.'
'Then I was almost right,' George grinned, 'it wasn't the president of the Harry Potter fan club, but the founder of the Harry for Minister-committee. Silly me.'
They all laughed as Fred and George planted the large box in front of Harry. 'Here you go, Harry. Something to keep you busy when You-Know-Who decides to give up being evil.'
Mrs Weasley opened up her mouth to most likely say something like, 'You can't joke about that, boys. This is very serious business.' However, her sons were one step ahead of her.
'Mum, He can already make everyone fear him. If he manages to kill our sense of humour, he might as well take over the world. We know we are at war, and that there are times and places to be serious, but this is neither the time nor the place. Now, will you let Harry open his present.'
Mrs Weasley looked at her sons flabbergasted, but refrained from saying anything, and so Harry opened his gift. He grinned when he looked at the content.
The box was filled to the top with Skiving Snackboxes, Canary Creams, Fireworks, Ton-Tongue Toffees, fake wands, and other pranks that Harry didn't recognize. Their names, however, told him all he needed to know about them. There were Bat-Bogey Bubblegum, Furnunculus Feast, Jelly-legs Jelly Beans, Drooling Drops, Pointing Pixies and Ravishing Robes.
'I can see what Bat-Bogey Bubblegum would do, and Jelly-Legs Jelly Beans and Drooling Drops too, but what about the others?'
Fred started to explain. 'Furnuculus Feast is a chocolate sprinkle. You can sprinkle it on any type of food or dessert, and whoever eats it will break out in boils.'
'One of the masterpieces, if I do say so myself,' George chimed in.
'Pointing Pixies,' Fred continued, 'are just that. They will follow their victim wherever they go, pointing at them and giggling. Not painful, but quite embarrassing and annoying, because they will hang around for several hours.'
'As Ron found out two weeks ago,' Ginny giggled, while Ron's expression darkened.
'Well, yes, that's ancient history, right Ron. We are forgiven and all is well in the Weasley brotherhood once more,' Fred sniggered. 'Now, the Ravishing Robes are developed especially for greasy gits and other Slytherin trash. They look just like normal robes, you have to cast a simple spell to transfigure them to the colour, style and size you require. The most common robes, such as school robes, and the robes of everyone we know, have been pre-programmed. So, you transfigure the robes to make them an exact copy of the robes your victim wears. As the victim puts on the robes, however, they will transfigure. Men's robes turn either pink or lilac, with lots of frills and lace. Women's robes will transfigure into a tight-fitting latex suit with buckles, and a leather cape.' Fred and George were glowing with pride, and Harry silently thanked the powers that had led Mrs Weasley out of the kitchen, just before the twins had started explaining.
'So what you are saying is that we can transfigure Snape's robes without even being near him? Because that is awesome!'
Fred and George nodded simultaneously, and opened their mouths to speak, but Hermione interrupted.
'Not that I want anything to do with this, but couldn't the victim just take the robes off again. What's the use of that?'
'Ah, Hermione, you have underestimated us,' said Fred, a look of mock- disappointment on his face. 'We have cast several spells and a time-delay on them. As soon as they are put on, they will stay on for the next 12 hours. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. Anyone except Dumbledore, at least.'
George cut in. 'The one sad thing is that we have no way of returning the robes to the owner. As soon as the victim can take them off again, they will most likely burn them, or toss them out. We have yet to find a spell that returns the robes to the owner automatically after it has been worn for 12 hours.'
Harry, Ron and Ginny's eyes all shone with mischief, and even Hermione seemed to be slightly enjoying the vision of Snape in pink lace robes. They were brutally brought back to reality as Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen again, followed by Bill and Fleur.
'Happy birthday, Harry,' said Bill as he placed a small parcel in front of Harry. 'This is from me and Fleur.'
'Nice to see you again, Harry, and a happy birthday,' said Fleur, smiling just a wee shyly.
'Nice to see you again too, Fleur. And what happened to your accent? You can hardly hear you're from France anymore.'
It was true that Fleur's English had improved a lot over the last year and a bit. Instead of speaking English with a thick French accent, she spoke it in a light, singsong manner. Fleur blushed slightly as she said, 'Well, thank you, but very much people have been helping me. I have had a great tutor.'
Bill grinned and blushed, too, as he decided to let Fleur's most recent grammatical error slip. 'Well, Harry, are you going to open your gift, or do you want to give it back to me. Because I wouldn't mind keeping it myself, you know.'
Harry was quick to unwrap his gift after Bill's 'threat'. He was surprised to unwrap a small bottle, which he eyed wearily, as it read 'Poison, pour homme'. He didn't understand what 'pour homme' might mean, but Poison was quite clear. 'Huh?'
'C'est l'eau de cologne, petit pois,' Fleur giggled.
If Harry's confusion had not been complete before, it sure was now. The only people who seemed as lost as Harry were Ron, Fred and George.
'Honestly, Mum,' said Ginny, 'you could have included a bit of grooming in their upbringing. Look at the looks on their faces. The poor boys are totally lost.'
Hermione giggled, and even Mrs Weasley couldn't suppress a small laugh.
Bill decided to put Harry out of his misery, and he smiled guiltily. 'I have to admit I had no idea about all this until a couple of months ago either. It's like aftershave, Harry. Sort of like perfume for men. On the look of horror on his brothers' and Harry's faces, he added, 'But a lot more masculine, of course.'
Still eyeing the bottle warily, Harry unscrewed the cap and sniffed carefully. It actually didn't smell that bad. As he passed it round for the others to smell, he thanked Fleur and Bill.
While the others were talking to Fleur, Harry decided to confront Bill with the question that had been on his mind since he had learned she was coming. 'Not to offend you or anything, Bill, but how come Fleur can come here. She now obviously knows the location of Headquarters, even though Neville and Seamus can't be told about it. What makes her different from the rest?'
Bill smiled. 'Fleur is the newest member of the Order, Harry. She joined last week. And although we never can be 100% sure, we do some thorough checks on all new members. Fleur checked out just fine. I think Dumbledore might be reluctant to let people outside of the Order, except for you, Ron, Ginny and Hermione, of course, know where we are. And I can't way I blame him.'
'Hey, hang on. You didn't mention Fred and George. Are they in the Order now, too?'
George seemed to have overheard Harry's question and nodded. 'Yup. Mum was quite reluctant to let us in, but we are of age, and out of school, so there was really nothing she could do about it.'
Although Harry was sitting with his back towards Mrs Weasley, he could feel her scowl.
'Awesome, now you can let us in on all the Order secrets,' Harry said in a hushed voice.
'Sorry mate, oath of secrecy and all that,' George whispered. As he saw the look of anger on Harry's voice, he continued. 'Don't get all worked up now, Harry. We only took that oath because they promised us they would let you in on all the important stuff soon enough. And yes, we believe them. Just give us till the end of summer, if they haven't turned around by then, we'll tell you all you want to know.'
Harry knew there was nothing else he could do. He would just have to trust Fred and George.
The next guests to come in were Tonks, Mr Weasley and Remus. After a chanted 'Happy birthday, Harry' Tonks gave Harry a hug and handed him a small gift.
'Tonks, you didn't!' Harry exclaimed. 'You already bought me all those clothes, they were supposed to be my birthday present.'
'I know, but I just couldn't resist. And it's only a small thing. Just open it, okay?'
Reluctantly, Harry opened the small gift. In the box lay a small, silver ring, much too small to fit around Harry's finger. Besides, it looked like a girl's ring anyway.
'Don't look at it like that, Harry. I saw it, and the small emerald reminded me of you. You might like to give it to someone, someday.'
Now it was Harry's turn to go red in the face. It was plain what Tonks meant, but he wouldn't know who to give it to for the world. 'Thanks Tonks, you really shouldn't have, but thanks a lot,' he stammered, as the rest of the room laughed at his obvious embarrassment.
'I guess now would be my turn, but I would like to give you my gift in private, Harry. It's not really my gift as is, and I think you might like to look at it when everything's a bit more quiet. Do you mind?'
Harry wondered what this secret gift might be, but he shook his head. 'Sure I don't mind, whatever you think is best. After all, you know what it is.'
'Great, I'm coming by tomorrow for another lesson, we can do it then. I have, however, got Hagrid's gift with me. Albus asked me to wish you a happy birthday, he said he was very sorry, but he can't make it tonight.'
Harry unwrapped a pair of house slippers that seemed to be made from real bear claws. Hagrid's gifts could often be a little odd, and this time it was no exception.
'Eww,' Hermione exclaimed, 'don't get me wrong, Hagrid always gives things with the best intentions, but, ewwww. Those things are not exactly appetizing.'
Harry had to agree with Hermione. The slippers would undoubtedly be quite warm and snuggly, but he didn't feel like wearing some dead animal's feet.
All of the sudden, all the lights in the kitchen were extinguished. Ginny let out a small cry, before they all saw the large birthday cake with lit candles on top drift towards the table. The cake landed right in front of Harry, and the candles lit his excited face.
'Happy birthday, dear,' he heard Mrs Weasley say behind him. 'Now, blow out the candles and make a wish.'
Harry fixed his eyes on the top of the cake, which was covered in a think layer of chocolate frosting. Green letters on it read, 'Happy 16th Harry', as they seemed to be shimmering in the candlelight.
Concentrating on his wish, he took a deep breath and blew all 16 candles out in one go. Immediately, the lights came back on, and Mrs Weasley whispered in his ear, 'Don't tell anyone what your wish was, or it won't come true.'
Harry doubted if his wish would come true even if he did keep it all to himself. And even though he doubted it would come true, he knew that he would not be able to tell anyone about it. If his friends would be shocked about the prophecy, his wish might blow them away.
He turned to Mrs Weasley and managed to produce a smile. 'Thanks so much, Mrs Weasley. This truly is the best birthday anyone could wish for.'
Mrs Weasley just smiled and handed him a knife. 'Whatever makes you happy, dear, we will always try to do it. If you would like to cut the cake, that would be wonderful.'
'And when you're through with that,' Mr Weasley added, 'we also have something we would like to give to you.'
Harry's protests that the party and cake, not to mention them caring for him, had been more than enough, were drowned in compliments on the cake, bestowed on Mrs Weasley. And as Harry finally got around to eating a piece himself, he reckoned the praise was not exaggerated.
When everyone had finished their cake, Mr Weasley placed a gift the size of an ink jar in front of Harry. 'Happy birthday Harry, and many happy returns. I hope you like it.'
Harry quickly unwrapped the gift. In front of him lay a brass pocket watch. As he opened it, he saw the dial had Roman numerals. The lid on the inside had been inscribed, it read 'To Harry, love, Arthur and Molly'. Harry wanted to thank them, and tell them how much he liked it, but he really didn't trust his voice.
'We noticed you didn't have a watch anymore,' Mrs Weasley said as Harry remained silent. 'There's more though, if you just push that little pin on the side.'
As Harry pushed the pin, a second dial appeared. However, this one was much more like the Weasley clock at the Burrow. The arms displayed the names of the members of the Weasley family, Hermione, Remus and Professor Dumbledore. The places where the numerals would normally be read 'School', 'Work', 'Traveling', 'Home', 'Prison', 'Mortal Peril', 'On Order Business' and 'Dead'.
'We had to make a couple of adjustments, as you can see,' Mr Weasley added. As we are at Headquarters so often, both the Burrow and Grimmauld Place are considered 'Home' now. Also, most of the time when we are on Order business, the arm would point at 'Mortal Peril'. You can imagine what kind of shock that would give whoever sees it. That is why we added 'On Order Business'.
Harry still felt speechless, but unless he wanted the Weasleys to think he didn't like it, or that he was ungrateful, he would have to say something soon. 'It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much. It's just amazing. I really don't know what to say. If only I'd had something like this last year, maybe then Sirius-,' Harry choked and ran out of the room.
He sprinted upstairs and threw himself on his bed. 'Great job, Harry! Could you have looked any more ungrateful?' he told himself. This had not been the plan. Sure, it had been difficult seeing Sirius' empty chair all the time. But it was not like Sirius had ever been on his birthday before, except perhaps his first one.
Since he had returned to Grimmauld Place, every little corner of the place had reminded Harry of Sirius. When he walked down the hall, he could hear Sirius sing 'God rest ye, merry Hippogryffs'. But until this moment he had avoided a breakdown. He had led to believe that their makeover of the house had erased Sirius' marks on it, and he had liked it that way. It was true that the transformation of the house made the pain of returning a little less, but it still hurt a lot. It hurt like hell, truth be told.
But Harry knew that he would have to face up to the pain and the memories if he wanted to move on. And he knew he had to move on. If not for himself, then for the rest of the world. He was the boy from the Prophecy, the fate of wizardkind depended on him. Once again, Harry felt like raging at the unfairness of it all. His heart felt like it might break into pieces any minute now, and he mindlessly punched his pillow until he heard the door open.
Turning around, he saw Ginny standing in the doorway. 'Harry? Are you alright? I mean...well...you know... Can I come in for a moment?'
Although Harry had felt like being alone just a short minute ago, he didn't feel like that anymore. 'Sure,' he nodded, 'join me. You want to hit a pillow too? You can have Ron's, if you like.'
Ginny looked at him sternly. 'Joke all you want, Harry. I can read you. Ever since you came back here, you have been walking around like you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You might think no one sees it, but we do. At least, I do. I hate seeing you like this. And that reaction to Mum and Dad's present just now wasn't anything like you either. You know you can trust us, don't you?'
Harry once again felt his temper rising. 'And what if I would be literally carrying the world on my shoulders? What would you be saying then? You don't know anything, Ginny! You might think you do, but you really don't! So why don't you just go back downstairs, tell them I'm okay and that I'll be back shortly.'
'Oh no,' said Ginny, 'don't even think you can get rid of me that easily. What I would do if you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders? I would tell you again to trust your friends, Harry. If not me, then Ron or Hermione. And don't try to tell me that I don't know, because I do. I don't know what exactly is bugging you, but I do understand. Just like you probably would be able to understand what it feels like to keep a big secret. Just like you would understand what guilt feels like. What terror feels like. I know you must be terrified, Harry, in other ways than the others, because you know who we're dealing with. I know too. You might like to feel misunderstood, but you have no real claim to feel that way. If you could just trust your friends to help you. That's all we're asking. Trust us, and let us help.'
'I let you help once before, and it almost got all of you killed,' Harry said softly.
'You have heard this before, and I will say it to you again. We can make up our own minds, Harry. We wanted to help you. That was our choice, and you would have had no right to deny us that choice. You will not help any of us by pushing us away.'
'I know that,' Harry said. 'And I'm not pushing you away. Not really. It's just hard, and confusing. And you are right, I'm not the only one who knows who we are actually dealing with. I am, however, the only one who has lost both parents and a godfather to this person, and who also happens to be the chosen kid.'
Ginny looked at him, not understanding what he had just said, and Harry felt like sticking his foot in his mouth. 'Harry? What did you mean when you said 'chosen kid'? Surely-. The prophecy! You have heard the prophecy!' The look on Ginny's had changed to shock. 'But how? It smashed in the Department of Mysteries, you said so yourself.'
Harry knew there would be no escape from this one. Ginny had caught on way to quickly, and she wouldn't let go until he had told her. And for some reason, Harry didn't really mind telling Ginny.
'You're right, Ginny. I did hear the prophecy, and it did smash in the Department of Mysteries. However, the sphere that smashed was just a recording of it. The actual prophecy was made by Sybill Trelawney, to Dumbledore.'
'Sybill Trelawney? Professor Trelawney? That old fraud? Surely it can't be a real one.'
'Oh, I can assure you it is real. Very real. Are you prepared to hear it?'
Ginny nodded ferociously.
iThe one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'/i
Harry didn't dare look at Ginny as he finished reciting his destiny. 'This prophecy was made only a short while before I was born. Voldemort knows the first couple of lines of the prophecy, but he has never heard it in total. It could have been about either me or another boy. About Neville, to be more specific, because we were both born at the end of July, and our parents both escaped Voldemort three times. It's about me because Voldemort thought it was about me.' Harry still didn't dare to look up, but he had to as he heard Ginny giggle softly.
'Silly,' she said, before continuing in a more serious tone. 'Is that what you have been so afraid of telling us. Because if it is so, you might want to give us a bit more credit. We have spent weeks trying to figure out what this prophecy might have entailed, and this is more a confirmation of our suspicions than a revelation.'
Harry looked at her, quite indignantly. 'So, it doesn't shock you that I have to kill Voldemort, or die myself? It doesn't shock you that that is the whole reason for my existence? And how did you know? How did you figure this out?'
'Of course we are shocked that that is the way things seem to be at this time, but you are forgetting the very essence of prophecies. Just think about self-fulfilling prophecies, and the power of suggestion. What would you do when someone would tell you you were going to die? Would you take your own life, would you panic and get into an accident, or would you answer that everyone will die some time? A prophecy is just that, Harry. A glimpse into the future. A future that can be changed by many factors. You need to believe you have control over your life. You can't let your life be controlled by something like this.'
'But isn't the main feature of a prophecy,' Harry interjected, 'that a prophecy will come true no matter what you do? If you look at the ancient Greeks, at Oedipus. His prophecy still came to be, even though his father tried to prevent it.'
'Forget the ancient Greeks and Oedipus, we are talking about you now. There are so many factors involved in prophecies coming to be, too many to think of. Imagine, what if You-Know-Who hadn't killed your parents, if he hadn't given you that scar? I know what you are going to say. 'But he did', right? I'm just trying to make you see that you always have choices. And several of those choices can lead to what is described in the prophecy. Others might not. If Oedipus' father had killed Oedipus with his own hands, he would have never turned up as a grown man. He wouldn't have killed his father and he wouldn't have slept with his mother. Possibly something else might have happened, but that's the thing about the future, Harry. We can never be sure about anything. I know I might not be making a lot of sense right now, but that's true for prophecies as well. They are open for interpretation, don't you agree.'
Although Harry felt confused about what Ginny had said, he had to agree with her on that. 'Sure, but I don't think there are many interpretations for this one.'
'I can think of one. It says that neither can live while the other survives. You could interpret that as saying that neither of you is living now. After all, so far you have both survived. And if neither can live while the other survives, you must both be un-alive. Do you agree with that?'
Harry couldn't help but smile at her use of warped logic. 'Of course I wouldn't agree with that, I'm plenty alive, thanks.'
'You have just made my point, Harry. Interpretation. That is what prophecies are about: choices and interpretation. I can understand if you have to give this some more thought.'
Harry nodded. 'Yes, it will take some time to make sense of. You so seem to have some valid points however. But I still can't help but feel afraid because of this prophecy.'
'I don't blame you, Harry. It's a prophecy that would make a lot of impact. But just look at it this way. If you would hear a prophecy you would fall of your broom during the next game of Quidditch, you could show several reactions to that. 1: You could stop playing Quidditch altogether. 2: You would play the game, and not fall off, but you wouldn't enjoy it because you were clinging with both hands to your broom all the time, and the other Seeker caught the Snitch. 3: You would play the game, and fall off your broom because you believe so strongly in the prophecy. 4: You would skip this game, play the next one, and fall off your broom because you feel you can't escape destiny. 5: You would skip the game, play the next one and not fall off because you think you have cheated destiny. 6: You can play the game and stay on your broom because you will not let this prophecy shake you up. You might be a bit more careful, though, and dodge a Bludger that otherwise would have knocked you off your broom. As I'm trying to illustrate here, is that you have several choices. I can think of more, but I think this is enough for now. You will have more success if you take a prophecy more as a warning than as a general truth.' Ginny seemed next to exhaustion with her speech.
'You might not believe it,' said Harry, 'but you're actually starting to make sense.'
Ginny smiled. 'Good. Now for your question. How did we figure out the general content of the prophecy. First we looked at your history with Voldemort. It was miraculous that you survived his attack when you were a baby, and it was logical he would want to take revenge on you for that. But if you look at the way he came after you. Even when he was still weak, during your first year, he came after you with a vengeance. You seem to be the only thing on his mind, even though someone like Dumbledore would be a much bigger threat to him. Or so one might think. The fact that he didn't even try to return to power before coming after you suggest something more than revenge. In our opinion, it suggested fear that you might be able to keep him from returning to power, which you did. At the age of 11. One might conclude that he was after you because he knew something the rest of us didn't. Hermione discovered that it wasn't You-Know-Who's habit to Avada Kedavra infants. He didn't have a problem with killing children or infants, but he never seemed to use Avada Kedavra on them. He left that to his Death Eaters, or he would use more cruel means to let them die. Often he would also just leave them to die in their parents' burning house. In fact, You-Know-Who didn't really busy himself with basic killings anymore. Those two things combined would also imply that he saw you as a threat, something he had to get rid of as soon as possible. Are you still with me?'
Harry nodded, blown away about the sheer logic applied to these theories.
'At this point, we figured that the Voldemort must have heard something about you, something that made him see you as a bigger threat than someone like Dumbledore. This would imply that you had a power that nobody knew anything about, a power that could possibly vanquish him. Why else would he have come after you so often, and when you were so young too. He obviously saw you as one of the bigger threats. So you can see that although we didn't get the exact wording of the prophecy right, we figured most of it out. Either you or him surviving followed logically from that. If you have to fight, then it would be obvious that only one of you would survive in the end. That is, unless you can find another way. I do not pretend to know what it feels like to have to kill someone, even if it is You-Know-Who. But I can promise you that we will help you find a way around that.'
'A way around it?' Harry snorted. 'It's not like we can capture Voldemort, and put him in Azkaban. What would you suggest we do?'
Ginny sighed. 'Could you please quit being so defensive, Harry. As I said, we will do anything in our power to find another way. There has to be another way. If you can't believe that, then what are you still doing here? You could be out, getting some of those Muggle weapons and blow him to bits. But you are still here, and I know you hope just as much as the rest of us that there is still hope. Because without hope, there would be no life.'
'Ginny, when did you get so wise?' said Harry.
'Oh, I've been wise for a long time. You just didn't notice.' Ginny smiled mysteriously. 'Now, is there anything else you would like to discuss with Dr. Weasley?'
'Not really,' said Harry, while inspecting the patches of his quilt. He didn't like the way Ginny seemed to be able to read him without him saying anything.
'I won't press you, Harry, but I will say once again that we are here for you. Although you were much closer to Sirius than any of us, you can talk to us. There is no shame in telling how you feel. You can scream, cry, rant or rave as much as you want, as long as you warn us in advance,' she added laughingly.
'I know,' Harry said, 'and I really appreciate it. Now that you have mentioned it, I do have a question for you. Would you happen to know anything about a group of boys called 'Take That'?'
'I would love to know where that question came from, but as a matter of fact, I do know them. They're a Muggle band, a boy band to be more precise. They're basically 5 guys that do silly dances while singing, and they make lots of girls faint. About a year ago, one of the members left the band and just recently, they announced that they will split up. Now, please explain yourself, why would you be interested in Take That?' Ginny's right eyebrow was raised, and she looked straight at Harry.
But all Harry could do was laugh. And laugh a bit louder. He couldn't believe it. Dudley had obviously been a fan of this band. This band that apparently made 'girls faint'.
'What's so funny,' Ginny asked.
'It's- It's Dudley,' Harry hiccoughed, 'He- And a shirt- Fan-.'
After taking a couple of deep breaths, Harry was able to relate the story to Ginny, who in her turn couldn't stop laughing. 'Oh, that poor boy,' she finally managed to say, 'My friend Darla also was a big fan. That's how I know about them in the first place. She's Muggle-born, and she had a whole scrapbook about them. Did he really say 'Why, boys? Why?''
Harry nodded and felt another fit of uncontrollable laughter coming up.
'Come on' said Ginny, 'let's go downstairs and let the others share in the fun as well.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
A/N: Okay... This one took me a long, long time. Presents were really hard to come up with, and I've had to cut some stuff too. If you don't like it, then, too bad, because this was a lot of work! But of course, constructive criticism will always be welcomed. Please feel free to review to your heart's content, just don't be too hard on me. Thanks!
And no, Ginny isn't Superwoman, or all-knowing. Just so you know. Writers block is almost over and done with, fortunately. I've been writing a lot yesterday, and I hope I'll be able to put the new chapter up one Wednesday (May 5). I probably won't be able to do so on Thursday, due to a snorkelling trip. (Waaahoooo!)
Before I'll give you a little taste of the next chapter, I'd like to inform everyone that reviews with an email address will be responded to in person. So, if you want any explanation on how and why's, just leave your email, and I'll get back to you!
Next chapter: Ghosts from the past ... Remus placed the book he had carried as he walked into the kitchen in front of Harry. It was a light colour blue, and read: 'Baby book: Memoirs of the expecting witch and new mum.' Harry looked at Remus as though he had gone mad. 'No offense, Remus, but somehow I don't think I'll be an expecting witch any time soon.' Remus threw Harry a mock scowl. 'This isn't for you to write in, Harry. It's about you. It's your mum's pregnancy and baby journal. I knew she had kep one, but I always thought it had been destroyed. Somehow Sirius got hold of it, however, and managed to keep it for you all thiese years. There's even a note on it, addressed to Sirius, and instructing him to give this to you on your sixteenth birthday, in case anything would happen. Go on, open it.'...
A/N: The full-length 5th chapter has been uploaded, so make sure you read that before you continue with this chapter. As I said last Thursday, the chapter I posted wasn't complete. It is now about 6 pages longer.
* * *
6: Bittersweet Symphony
The following morning, Harry woke up to find himself alone in the room. He wondered what time it was, and reckoned if Ron was up, surely that would mean that it was past 10. Stomach grumbling, he got dressed and made his way to the kitchen.
When he walked into the kitchen he couldn't believe his eyes. The whole room had been decorated in yellow and red streamers. Mrs Weasley, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting at the kitchen table and chorused 'Happy Birthday, Harry!'.
As Harry walked over to join them, a string of little coloured flags caught his eye. Every flag was showing a Muggle photo of Harry, and underneath each photo it read: 'A Harry Birthday'. Although there was no doubt in Harry's mind who had made those, he still pointed at them and asked, 'How did those get in here?'.
Ginny grinned widely as she said, 'Dobby sent them over. He thought you might like them. He also sent over a birthday present and a card. You've got yourself a big fan in that one, Harry.'
Mrs Weasley got up and gave Harry a hug. 'Happy birthday, dear. I hope you don't mind waiting for a bit with the cake. Tonight there will be some more people here for your birthday. As Arthur won't be here until tonight, you will also have to wait for your present a bit. Now, how would you like your eggs this morning? Fried, boiled, poched, scrambled?'
Harry smiled at Mrs Weasley. 'Scrambled would be great, thanks. And I have no problem with waiting, Mrs Weasley. There are actually people coming over here for my birthday?'
Because Mrs Weasley was already busying herself making breakfast, Ron answered that question. 'Yeah mate, lots of people. Fred and George, of course, Bill, Tonks, Professor Lupin, Dad, as Mum already said, Dung, and Dumbledore might make an appearance also, I believe. Seamus, Neville and Luna wanted to come too, when they found out we were all together, but Dumbledore reckons it's not safe. He doesn't want too many people to know our location. Fair enough, probably, but it still would have been nice to have them here, hey? Oh, and I almost forgot, guess who's coming too? You'll never guess, I'll tell you that.'
Here Hermione interrupted. 'No Ron, he'll never guess. At least not when you keep blabbering like that. Although Ron is right, Harry, you'll never guess.'
Harry tried to think about who had been missing from the people Ron had mentioned before. 'Dean?' he said. But as soon as he had said it he knew he had made a mistake. For once, Ginny's face didn't turn red. Instead, it actually turned paler. Ron's face, however, turned almost crimson and his hands turned into fists.
'No, not Dean,' Hermione said in a hushed voice, 'I don't think Dean would be very welcome here at the moment.'
Harry knew better than to inquire further, and he quickly busied himself with pouring a glass of pumpkin juice.
While waiting for the others to get control over their emotions, Hermione provided a good distraction. 'You still didn't guess correctly, though. It's Fleur Delacour. Apparently, she and Bill are 'good friends' and she's coming with him.'
Harry didn't actually understand why Fleur would come to his birthday, but he didn't mind either. When he had met her at the start of the Triwizard Tournament he hadn't particularly liked her, but their relationship (if that's what you could call it) had improved after the second task.
Ron and Ginny still seemed to be lost in thought, so Hermione started a new approach. 'You may not get some of your gifts until tonight, but here's mine.' Hermione handed Harry a gift that undoubtedly was a book. And quite a large book too.
Looking slightly apprehensive, Harry opened the gift. Even though his instincts had been right, the book wasn't anything like he had expected. Harry had anticipated a book on scar-management, or how to vanquish Dark Wizards, or even how to make your broom safer. However, it seemed that Hermione had bought him a...a novel? In front of him lay a large book titled 'Lord of the Rings'.
Harry shot a look of confusion at Hermione. 'What kind of book is this? I've never heard of it.'
'You wouldn't have, Harry, it's a Muggle book. You probably would have been too young to have heard about it in Muggle school. I read it last summer, and it's really quite interesting. There are wizards, and other magical creatures in it as well, even though those have been made up. I think you might like it, Harry. The main character goes on a quest he really doesn't want to go on, but it seems that fate has chosen him.' Hermione looked down and started studying the leftovers on her plate.
Harry wondered how she would know. How would she know that he too had been chosen by fate to do something he really didn't want to do? Of course, Hermione was a lot smarter than most people, but it still struck him as odd. However, he decided to let it slide for now. He was planning to tell them about the prophecy later in the week, he could ask her then.
In the meantime, Ron and Ginny seemed to have returned to their normal selves, and they both reached for something under their chairs. Ron was the first to present his gift.
'Here you go, mate. Happy Sixteenth!'
Harry unwrapped a large box filled with Honeydukes finest sweets. 'Thanks Ron, I was running a bit low on sugar. I feared I would have to order some chocolate frogs by owl!'
Ron grinned. 'No need to worry about those things. I'm quite content giving you sweets for your birthday and Christmas. As we're sharing a room, it always means I'll end up with some of it as well.'
'Ronald Weasley!' Mrs Weasley said indignantly. 'How can you be so selfish! That is not how your father and I raised you.'
'It's okay, Mrs Weasley,' said Harry, 'I'm more than happy to share with Ron. If he wouldn't eat half of all the sweets I got I would be as fat as Dudley by now.'
Ginny's gift was a rolled up piece of parchment with a red ribbon tied around it.
'Awesome, Ginny,' Harry laughed, 'You've done all my homework for me! Now that's what I call a great gift!'
'Very funny, Harry,' Ginny tried to scowl at him, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. 'Just open it, will you!'
Harry took the ribbon off and carefully unrolled the sheet of parchment. He gasped when he saw what had been drawn on the parchment. A group of five people were standing in a clearing in a forest, arms around each other's shoulders. On the left was Remus, a lot younger, and smiling broadly. His arm was around Sirius' shoulders, and he was grinning mischievously. The index and middle finger of his left hand were forming a 'V' over a girl's head. Lily. She wasn't paying attention as her head was slightly inclined to the boy on her right. She looked at him lovingly. At first, Harry thought his dad was the boy next to her, but then his eyes came across the scar. It was him! He was in the drawing as well, grinning widely. The last person in line was his dad, poking Harry seemingly playfully in the side. Over the treetops Harry could see the turrets of Hogwarts. He was absolutely speechless.
He looked back at Ginny, breathing deeply through his nose and trying to force back some tears. 'How... How did you-? You never saw-. It's -. Thank you.'
'Professor Dumbledore provided me with a group photo of your mother and the Marauders. I didn't really know what Sirius and Professor Lupin looked like when they were in school. Of course I've seen scores of photo's of your parents in history books. So, you like it?' she asked with a slight hint of nervousness in her voice.
'I love it, Ginny, thank you so much. I really don't know what to say. You must have spent a lot of time drawing this.'
Hermione cut in. 'Yes, she spent a lot of time working on it. And she didn't allow any of us to see it before she had given it to you. So, would you mind showing us too?'
Harry reluctantly passed the paper to Hermione, who gasped when she looked at the drawing. 'Ginny, this is wonderful! I knew you could draw, but this is as clear as a Muggle photo. It's beautiful.'
Mrs Weasley brought Harry's breakfast over to the table, and looked at the drawing over Hermione's shoulder. 'Oh dear, it's brilliant. Your drawing really has improved over the last year. You seem to have captured everyone's essence quite nicely. What photo did you use to draw Harry from?'
'Actually,' Ginny said, face flushing slightly, 'I drew him from memory. I couldn't find a photo that seemed to portray what I wanted to draw.'
* * *
The rest of the day passed rather quickly. Harry had been meaning to ask Ron about the details of brainscarring, but it became obvious Ron didn't think it was the right time. He had been reluctant to put the details in a letter, so all Harry knew about it was what Ron had written about it during the first week of summer.
He had also meant to ask about the reaction Ron and Ginny had had to Harry mentioning Dean, but Hermione had warned him not to. 'Ginny will tell you in her own time, I am sure. If she doesn't want to talk about it, then that's her good right,' Hermione had said.
Not wanting to solicit any fights on his birthday, Harry settled for playing Exploding Snap, Gobstones and chess.
Soon, it was late afternoon, and the first birthday guests were appearing. Fred and George flooed into the kitchen, carrying a large box.
'Happy birthday, Harry,' they chanted. They both shot a look at the flags, but George was first to speak. 'Nice flags, Harry. Who came up with those? Let me guess, president of the Harry Potter fan club, Colin Creevey.'
Harry gasped. 'Colin started a fan club?'
Fred chuckled and looked at his brother. 'Not yet, Harry, but who knows, we might be able to give him an idea. You still haven't answered, though, did Colin send those over?'
'For your information,' Hermione apparently decided she had to set something right, 'Colin has gotten over most of his hero worship. It was Dobby that sent those flags over, and I think it was a very nice gesture.'
'Then I was almost right,' George grinned, 'it wasn't the president of the Harry Potter fan club, but the founder of the Harry for Minister-committee. Silly me.'
They all laughed as Fred and George planted the large box in front of Harry. 'Here you go, Harry. Something to keep you busy when You-Know-Who decides to give up being evil.'
Mrs Weasley opened up her mouth to most likely say something like, 'You can't joke about that, boys. This is very serious business.' However, her sons were one step ahead of her.
'Mum, He can already make everyone fear him. If he manages to kill our sense of humour, he might as well take over the world. We know we are at war, and that there are times and places to be serious, but this is neither the time nor the place. Now, will you let Harry open his present.'
Mrs Weasley looked at her sons flabbergasted, but refrained from saying anything, and so Harry opened his gift. He grinned when he looked at the content.
The box was filled to the top with Skiving Snackboxes, Canary Creams, Fireworks, Ton-Tongue Toffees, fake wands, and other pranks that Harry didn't recognize. Their names, however, told him all he needed to know about them. There were Bat-Bogey Bubblegum, Furnunculus Feast, Jelly-legs Jelly Beans, Drooling Drops, Pointing Pixies and Ravishing Robes.
'I can see what Bat-Bogey Bubblegum would do, and Jelly-Legs Jelly Beans and Drooling Drops too, but what about the others?'
Fred started to explain. 'Furnuculus Feast is a chocolate sprinkle. You can sprinkle it on any type of food or dessert, and whoever eats it will break out in boils.'
'One of the masterpieces, if I do say so myself,' George chimed in.
'Pointing Pixies,' Fred continued, 'are just that. They will follow their victim wherever they go, pointing at them and giggling. Not painful, but quite embarrassing and annoying, because they will hang around for several hours.'
'As Ron found out two weeks ago,' Ginny giggled, while Ron's expression darkened.
'Well, yes, that's ancient history, right Ron. We are forgiven and all is well in the Weasley brotherhood once more,' Fred sniggered. 'Now, the Ravishing Robes are developed especially for greasy gits and other Slytherin trash. They look just like normal robes, you have to cast a simple spell to transfigure them to the colour, style and size you require. The most common robes, such as school robes, and the robes of everyone we know, have been pre-programmed. So, you transfigure the robes to make them an exact copy of the robes your victim wears. As the victim puts on the robes, however, they will transfigure. Men's robes turn either pink or lilac, with lots of frills and lace. Women's robes will transfigure into a tight-fitting latex suit with buckles, and a leather cape.' Fred and George were glowing with pride, and Harry silently thanked the powers that had led Mrs Weasley out of the kitchen, just before the twins had started explaining.
'So what you are saying is that we can transfigure Snape's robes without even being near him? Because that is awesome!'
Fred and George nodded simultaneously, and opened their mouths to speak, but Hermione interrupted.
'Not that I want anything to do with this, but couldn't the victim just take the robes off again. What's the use of that?'
'Ah, Hermione, you have underestimated us,' said Fred, a look of mock- disappointment on his face. 'We have cast several spells and a time-delay on them. As soon as they are put on, they will stay on for the next 12 hours. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. Anyone except Dumbledore, at least.'
George cut in. 'The one sad thing is that we have no way of returning the robes to the owner. As soon as the victim can take them off again, they will most likely burn them, or toss them out. We have yet to find a spell that returns the robes to the owner automatically after it has been worn for 12 hours.'
Harry, Ron and Ginny's eyes all shone with mischief, and even Hermione seemed to be slightly enjoying the vision of Snape in pink lace robes. They were brutally brought back to reality as Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen again, followed by Bill and Fleur.
'Happy birthday, Harry,' said Bill as he placed a small parcel in front of Harry. 'This is from me and Fleur.'
'Nice to see you again, Harry, and a happy birthday,' said Fleur, smiling just a wee shyly.
'Nice to see you again too, Fleur. And what happened to your accent? You can hardly hear you're from France anymore.'
It was true that Fleur's English had improved a lot over the last year and a bit. Instead of speaking English with a thick French accent, she spoke it in a light, singsong manner. Fleur blushed slightly as she said, 'Well, thank you, but very much people have been helping me. I have had a great tutor.'
Bill grinned and blushed, too, as he decided to let Fleur's most recent grammatical error slip. 'Well, Harry, are you going to open your gift, or do you want to give it back to me. Because I wouldn't mind keeping it myself, you know.'
Harry was quick to unwrap his gift after Bill's 'threat'. He was surprised to unwrap a small bottle, which he eyed wearily, as it read 'Poison, pour homme'. He didn't understand what 'pour homme' might mean, but Poison was quite clear. 'Huh?'
'C'est l'eau de cologne, petit pois,' Fleur giggled.
If Harry's confusion had not been complete before, it sure was now. The only people who seemed as lost as Harry were Ron, Fred and George.
'Honestly, Mum,' said Ginny, 'you could have included a bit of grooming in their upbringing. Look at the looks on their faces. The poor boys are totally lost.'
Hermione giggled, and even Mrs Weasley couldn't suppress a small laugh.
Bill decided to put Harry out of his misery, and he smiled guiltily. 'I have to admit I had no idea about all this until a couple of months ago either. It's like aftershave, Harry. Sort of like perfume for men. On the look of horror on his brothers' and Harry's faces, he added, 'But a lot more masculine, of course.'
Still eyeing the bottle warily, Harry unscrewed the cap and sniffed carefully. It actually didn't smell that bad. As he passed it round for the others to smell, he thanked Fleur and Bill.
While the others were talking to Fleur, Harry decided to confront Bill with the question that had been on his mind since he had learned she was coming. 'Not to offend you or anything, Bill, but how come Fleur can come here. She now obviously knows the location of Headquarters, even though Neville and Seamus can't be told about it. What makes her different from the rest?'
Bill smiled. 'Fleur is the newest member of the Order, Harry. She joined last week. And although we never can be 100% sure, we do some thorough checks on all new members. Fleur checked out just fine. I think Dumbledore might be reluctant to let people outside of the Order, except for you, Ron, Ginny and Hermione, of course, know where we are. And I can't way I blame him.'
'Hey, hang on. You didn't mention Fred and George. Are they in the Order now, too?'
George seemed to have overheard Harry's question and nodded. 'Yup. Mum was quite reluctant to let us in, but we are of age, and out of school, so there was really nothing she could do about it.'
Although Harry was sitting with his back towards Mrs Weasley, he could feel her scowl.
'Awesome, now you can let us in on all the Order secrets,' Harry said in a hushed voice.
'Sorry mate, oath of secrecy and all that,' George whispered. As he saw the look of anger on Harry's voice, he continued. 'Don't get all worked up now, Harry. We only took that oath because they promised us they would let you in on all the important stuff soon enough. And yes, we believe them. Just give us till the end of summer, if they haven't turned around by then, we'll tell you all you want to know.'
Harry knew there was nothing else he could do. He would just have to trust Fred and George.
The next guests to come in were Tonks, Mr Weasley and Remus. After a chanted 'Happy birthday, Harry' Tonks gave Harry a hug and handed him a small gift.
'Tonks, you didn't!' Harry exclaimed. 'You already bought me all those clothes, they were supposed to be my birthday present.'
'I know, but I just couldn't resist. And it's only a small thing. Just open it, okay?'
Reluctantly, Harry opened the small gift. In the box lay a small, silver ring, much too small to fit around Harry's finger. Besides, it looked like a girl's ring anyway.
'Don't look at it like that, Harry. I saw it, and the small emerald reminded me of you. You might like to give it to someone, someday.'
Now it was Harry's turn to go red in the face. It was plain what Tonks meant, but he wouldn't know who to give it to for the world. 'Thanks Tonks, you really shouldn't have, but thanks a lot,' he stammered, as the rest of the room laughed at his obvious embarrassment.
'I guess now would be my turn, but I would like to give you my gift in private, Harry. It's not really my gift as is, and I think you might like to look at it when everything's a bit more quiet. Do you mind?'
Harry wondered what this secret gift might be, but he shook his head. 'Sure I don't mind, whatever you think is best. After all, you know what it is.'
'Great, I'm coming by tomorrow for another lesson, we can do it then. I have, however, got Hagrid's gift with me. Albus asked me to wish you a happy birthday, he said he was very sorry, but he can't make it tonight.'
Harry unwrapped a pair of house slippers that seemed to be made from real bear claws. Hagrid's gifts could often be a little odd, and this time it was no exception.
'Eww,' Hermione exclaimed, 'don't get me wrong, Hagrid always gives things with the best intentions, but, ewwww. Those things are not exactly appetizing.'
Harry had to agree with Hermione. The slippers would undoubtedly be quite warm and snuggly, but he didn't feel like wearing some dead animal's feet.
All of the sudden, all the lights in the kitchen were extinguished. Ginny let out a small cry, before they all saw the large birthday cake with lit candles on top drift towards the table. The cake landed right in front of Harry, and the candles lit his excited face.
'Happy birthday, dear,' he heard Mrs Weasley say behind him. 'Now, blow out the candles and make a wish.'
Harry fixed his eyes on the top of the cake, which was covered in a think layer of chocolate frosting. Green letters on it read, 'Happy 16th Harry', as they seemed to be shimmering in the candlelight.
Concentrating on his wish, he took a deep breath and blew all 16 candles out in one go. Immediately, the lights came back on, and Mrs Weasley whispered in his ear, 'Don't tell anyone what your wish was, or it won't come true.'
Harry doubted if his wish would come true even if he did keep it all to himself. And even though he doubted it would come true, he knew that he would not be able to tell anyone about it. If his friends would be shocked about the prophecy, his wish might blow them away.
He turned to Mrs Weasley and managed to produce a smile. 'Thanks so much, Mrs Weasley. This truly is the best birthday anyone could wish for.'
Mrs Weasley just smiled and handed him a knife. 'Whatever makes you happy, dear, we will always try to do it. If you would like to cut the cake, that would be wonderful.'
'And when you're through with that,' Mr Weasley added, 'we also have something we would like to give to you.'
Harry's protests that the party and cake, not to mention them caring for him, had been more than enough, were drowned in compliments on the cake, bestowed on Mrs Weasley. And as Harry finally got around to eating a piece himself, he reckoned the praise was not exaggerated.
When everyone had finished their cake, Mr Weasley placed a gift the size of an ink jar in front of Harry. 'Happy birthday Harry, and many happy returns. I hope you like it.'
Harry quickly unwrapped the gift. In front of him lay a brass pocket watch. As he opened it, he saw the dial had Roman numerals. The lid on the inside had been inscribed, it read 'To Harry, love, Arthur and Molly'. Harry wanted to thank them, and tell them how much he liked it, but he really didn't trust his voice.
'We noticed you didn't have a watch anymore,' Mrs Weasley said as Harry remained silent. 'There's more though, if you just push that little pin on the side.'
As Harry pushed the pin, a second dial appeared. However, this one was much more like the Weasley clock at the Burrow. The arms displayed the names of the members of the Weasley family, Hermione, Remus and Professor Dumbledore. The places where the numerals would normally be read 'School', 'Work', 'Traveling', 'Home', 'Prison', 'Mortal Peril', 'On Order Business' and 'Dead'.
'We had to make a couple of adjustments, as you can see,' Mr Weasley added. As we are at Headquarters so often, both the Burrow and Grimmauld Place are considered 'Home' now. Also, most of the time when we are on Order business, the arm would point at 'Mortal Peril'. You can imagine what kind of shock that would give whoever sees it. That is why we added 'On Order Business'.
Harry still felt speechless, but unless he wanted the Weasleys to think he didn't like it, or that he was ungrateful, he would have to say something soon. 'It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much. It's just amazing. I really don't know what to say. If only I'd had something like this last year, maybe then Sirius-,' Harry choked and ran out of the room.
He sprinted upstairs and threw himself on his bed. 'Great job, Harry! Could you have looked any more ungrateful?' he told himself. This had not been the plan. Sure, it had been difficult seeing Sirius' empty chair all the time. But it was not like Sirius had ever been on his birthday before, except perhaps his first one.
Since he had returned to Grimmauld Place, every little corner of the place had reminded Harry of Sirius. When he walked down the hall, he could hear Sirius sing 'God rest ye, merry Hippogryffs'. But until this moment he had avoided a breakdown. He had led to believe that their makeover of the house had erased Sirius' marks on it, and he had liked it that way. It was true that the transformation of the house made the pain of returning a little less, but it still hurt a lot. It hurt like hell, truth be told.
But Harry knew that he would have to face up to the pain and the memories if he wanted to move on. And he knew he had to move on. If not for himself, then for the rest of the world. He was the boy from the Prophecy, the fate of wizardkind depended on him. Once again, Harry felt like raging at the unfairness of it all. His heart felt like it might break into pieces any minute now, and he mindlessly punched his pillow until he heard the door open.
Turning around, he saw Ginny standing in the doorway. 'Harry? Are you alright? I mean...well...you know... Can I come in for a moment?'
Although Harry had felt like being alone just a short minute ago, he didn't feel like that anymore. 'Sure,' he nodded, 'join me. You want to hit a pillow too? You can have Ron's, if you like.'
Ginny looked at him sternly. 'Joke all you want, Harry. I can read you. Ever since you came back here, you have been walking around like you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You might think no one sees it, but we do. At least, I do. I hate seeing you like this. And that reaction to Mum and Dad's present just now wasn't anything like you either. You know you can trust us, don't you?'
Harry once again felt his temper rising. 'And what if I would be literally carrying the world on my shoulders? What would you be saying then? You don't know anything, Ginny! You might think you do, but you really don't! So why don't you just go back downstairs, tell them I'm okay and that I'll be back shortly.'
'Oh no,' said Ginny, 'don't even think you can get rid of me that easily. What I would do if you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders? I would tell you again to trust your friends, Harry. If not me, then Ron or Hermione. And don't try to tell me that I don't know, because I do. I don't know what exactly is bugging you, but I do understand. Just like you probably would be able to understand what it feels like to keep a big secret. Just like you would understand what guilt feels like. What terror feels like. I know you must be terrified, Harry, in other ways than the others, because you know who we're dealing with. I know too. You might like to feel misunderstood, but you have no real claim to feel that way. If you could just trust your friends to help you. That's all we're asking. Trust us, and let us help.'
'I let you help once before, and it almost got all of you killed,' Harry said softly.
'You have heard this before, and I will say it to you again. We can make up our own minds, Harry. We wanted to help you. That was our choice, and you would have had no right to deny us that choice. You will not help any of us by pushing us away.'
'I know that,' Harry said. 'And I'm not pushing you away. Not really. It's just hard, and confusing. And you are right, I'm not the only one who knows who we are actually dealing with. I am, however, the only one who has lost both parents and a godfather to this person, and who also happens to be the chosen kid.'
Ginny looked at him, not understanding what he had just said, and Harry felt like sticking his foot in his mouth. 'Harry? What did you mean when you said 'chosen kid'? Surely-. The prophecy! You have heard the prophecy!' The look on Ginny's had changed to shock. 'But how? It smashed in the Department of Mysteries, you said so yourself.'
Harry knew there would be no escape from this one. Ginny had caught on way to quickly, and she wouldn't let go until he had told her. And for some reason, Harry didn't really mind telling Ginny.
'You're right, Ginny. I did hear the prophecy, and it did smash in the Department of Mysteries. However, the sphere that smashed was just a recording of it. The actual prophecy was made by Sybill Trelawney, to Dumbledore.'
'Sybill Trelawney? Professor Trelawney? That old fraud? Surely it can't be a real one.'
'Oh, I can assure you it is real. Very real. Are you prepared to hear it?'
Ginny nodded ferociously.
iThe one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'/i
Harry didn't dare look at Ginny as he finished reciting his destiny. 'This prophecy was made only a short while before I was born. Voldemort knows the first couple of lines of the prophecy, but he has never heard it in total. It could have been about either me or another boy. About Neville, to be more specific, because we were both born at the end of July, and our parents both escaped Voldemort three times. It's about me because Voldemort thought it was about me.' Harry still didn't dare to look up, but he had to as he heard Ginny giggle softly.
'Silly,' she said, before continuing in a more serious tone. 'Is that what you have been so afraid of telling us. Because if it is so, you might want to give us a bit more credit. We have spent weeks trying to figure out what this prophecy might have entailed, and this is more a confirmation of our suspicions than a revelation.'
Harry looked at her, quite indignantly. 'So, it doesn't shock you that I have to kill Voldemort, or die myself? It doesn't shock you that that is the whole reason for my existence? And how did you know? How did you figure this out?'
'Of course we are shocked that that is the way things seem to be at this time, but you are forgetting the very essence of prophecies. Just think about self-fulfilling prophecies, and the power of suggestion. What would you do when someone would tell you you were going to die? Would you take your own life, would you panic and get into an accident, or would you answer that everyone will die some time? A prophecy is just that, Harry. A glimpse into the future. A future that can be changed by many factors. You need to believe you have control over your life. You can't let your life be controlled by something like this.'
'But isn't the main feature of a prophecy,' Harry interjected, 'that a prophecy will come true no matter what you do? If you look at the ancient Greeks, at Oedipus. His prophecy still came to be, even though his father tried to prevent it.'
'Forget the ancient Greeks and Oedipus, we are talking about you now. There are so many factors involved in prophecies coming to be, too many to think of. Imagine, what if You-Know-Who hadn't killed your parents, if he hadn't given you that scar? I know what you are going to say. 'But he did', right? I'm just trying to make you see that you always have choices. And several of those choices can lead to what is described in the prophecy. Others might not. If Oedipus' father had killed Oedipus with his own hands, he would have never turned up as a grown man. He wouldn't have killed his father and he wouldn't have slept with his mother. Possibly something else might have happened, but that's the thing about the future, Harry. We can never be sure about anything. I know I might not be making a lot of sense right now, but that's true for prophecies as well. They are open for interpretation, don't you agree.'
Although Harry felt confused about what Ginny had said, he had to agree with her on that. 'Sure, but I don't think there are many interpretations for this one.'
'I can think of one. It says that neither can live while the other survives. You could interpret that as saying that neither of you is living now. After all, so far you have both survived. And if neither can live while the other survives, you must both be un-alive. Do you agree with that?'
Harry couldn't help but smile at her use of warped logic. 'Of course I wouldn't agree with that, I'm plenty alive, thanks.'
'You have just made my point, Harry. Interpretation. That is what prophecies are about: choices and interpretation. I can understand if you have to give this some more thought.'
Harry nodded. 'Yes, it will take some time to make sense of. You so seem to have some valid points however. But I still can't help but feel afraid because of this prophecy.'
'I don't blame you, Harry. It's a prophecy that would make a lot of impact. But just look at it this way. If you would hear a prophecy you would fall of your broom during the next game of Quidditch, you could show several reactions to that. 1: You could stop playing Quidditch altogether. 2: You would play the game, and not fall off, but you wouldn't enjoy it because you were clinging with both hands to your broom all the time, and the other Seeker caught the Snitch. 3: You would play the game, and fall off your broom because you believe so strongly in the prophecy. 4: You would skip this game, play the next one, and fall off your broom because you feel you can't escape destiny. 5: You would skip the game, play the next one and not fall off because you think you have cheated destiny. 6: You can play the game and stay on your broom because you will not let this prophecy shake you up. You might be a bit more careful, though, and dodge a Bludger that otherwise would have knocked you off your broom. As I'm trying to illustrate here, is that you have several choices. I can think of more, but I think this is enough for now. You will have more success if you take a prophecy more as a warning than as a general truth.' Ginny seemed next to exhaustion with her speech.
'You might not believe it,' said Harry, 'but you're actually starting to make sense.'
Ginny smiled. 'Good. Now for your question. How did we figure out the general content of the prophecy. First we looked at your history with Voldemort. It was miraculous that you survived his attack when you were a baby, and it was logical he would want to take revenge on you for that. But if you look at the way he came after you. Even when he was still weak, during your first year, he came after you with a vengeance. You seem to be the only thing on his mind, even though someone like Dumbledore would be a much bigger threat to him. Or so one might think. The fact that he didn't even try to return to power before coming after you suggest something more than revenge. In our opinion, it suggested fear that you might be able to keep him from returning to power, which you did. At the age of 11. One might conclude that he was after you because he knew something the rest of us didn't. Hermione discovered that it wasn't You-Know-Who's habit to Avada Kedavra infants. He didn't have a problem with killing children or infants, but he never seemed to use Avada Kedavra on them. He left that to his Death Eaters, or he would use more cruel means to let them die. Often he would also just leave them to die in their parents' burning house. In fact, You-Know-Who didn't really busy himself with basic killings anymore. Those two things combined would also imply that he saw you as a threat, something he had to get rid of as soon as possible. Are you still with me?'
Harry nodded, blown away about the sheer logic applied to these theories.
'At this point, we figured that the Voldemort must have heard something about you, something that made him see you as a bigger threat than someone like Dumbledore. This would imply that you had a power that nobody knew anything about, a power that could possibly vanquish him. Why else would he have come after you so often, and when you were so young too. He obviously saw you as one of the bigger threats. So you can see that although we didn't get the exact wording of the prophecy right, we figured most of it out. Either you or him surviving followed logically from that. If you have to fight, then it would be obvious that only one of you would survive in the end. That is, unless you can find another way. I do not pretend to know what it feels like to have to kill someone, even if it is You-Know-Who. But I can promise you that we will help you find a way around that.'
'A way around it?' Harry snorted. 'It's not like we can capture Voldemort, and put him in Azkaban. What would you suggest we do?'
Ginny sighed. 'Could you please quit being so defensive, Harry. As I said, we will do anything in our power to find another way. There has to be another way. If you can't believe that, then what are you still doing here? You could be out, getting some of those Muggle weapons and blow him to bits. But you are still here, and I know you hope just as much as the rest of us that there is still hope. Because without hope, there would be no life.'
'Ginny, when did you get so wise?' said Harry.
'Oh, I've been wise for a long time. You just didn't notice.' Ginny smiled mysteriously. 'Now, is there anything else you would like to discuss with Dr. Weasley?'
'Not really,' said Harry, while inspecting the patches of his quilt. He didn't like the way Ginny seemed to be able to read him without him saying anything.
'I won't press you, Harry, but I will say once again that we are here for you. Although you were much closer to Sirius than any of us, you can talk to us. There is no shame in telling how you feel. You can scream, cry, rant or rave as much as you want, as long as you warn us in advance,' she added laughingly.
'I know,' Harry said, 'and I really appreciate it. Now that you have mentioned it, I do have a question for you. Would you happen to know anything about a group of boys called 'Take That'?'
'I would love to know where that question came from, but as a matter of fact, I do know them. They're a Muggle band, a boy band to be more precise. They're basically 5 guys that do silly dances while singing, and they make lots of girls faint. About a year ago, one of the members left the band and just recently, they announced that they will split up. Now, please explain yourself, why would you be interested in Take That?' Ginny's right eyebrow was raised, and she looked straight at Harry.
But all Harry could do was laugh. And laugh a bit louder. He couldn't believe it. Dudley had obviously been a fan of this band. This band that apparently made 'girls faint'.
'What's so funny,' Ginny asked.
'It's- It's Dudley,' Harry hiccoughed, 'He- And a shirt- Fan-.'
After taking a couple of deep breaths, Harry was able to relate the story to Ginny, who in her turn couldn't stop laughing. 'Oh, that poor boy,' she finally managed to say, 'My friend Darla also was a big fan. That's how I know about them in the first place. She's Muggle-born, and she had a whole scrapbook about them. Did he really say 'Why, boys? Why?''
Harry nodded and felt another fit of uncontrollable laughter coming up.
'Come on' said Ginny, 'let's go downstairs and let the others share in the fun as well.
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A/N: Okay... This one took me a long, long time. Presents were really hard to come up with, and I've had to cut some stuff too. If you don't like it, then, too bad, because this was a lot of work! But of course, constructive criticism will always be welcomed. Please feel free to review to your heart's content, just don't be too hard on me. Thanks!
And no, Ginny isn't Superwoman, or all-knowing. Just so you know. Writers block is almost over and done with, fortunately. I've been writing a lot yesterday, and I hope I'll be able to put the new chapter up one Wednesday (May 5). I probably won't be able to do so on Thursday, due to a snorkelling trip. (Waaahoooo!)
Before I'll give you a little taste of the next chapter, I'd like to inform everyone that reviews with an email address will be responded to in person. So, if you want any explanation on how and why's, just leave your email, and I'll get back to you!
Next chapter: Ghosts from the past ... Remus placed the book he had carried as he walked into the kitchen in front of Harry. It was a light colour blue, and read: 'Baby book: Memoirs of the expecting witch and new mum.' Harry looked at Remus as though he had gone mad. 'No offense, Remus, but somehow I don't think I'll be an expecting witch any time soon.' Remus threw Harry a mock scowl. 'This isn't for you to write in, Harry. It's about you. It's your mum's pregnancy and baby journal. I knew she had kep one, but I always thought it had been destroyed. Somehow Sirius got hold of it, however, and managed to keep it for you all thiese years. There's even a note on it, addressed to Sirius, and instructing him to give this to you on your sixteenth birthday, in case anything would happen. Go on, open it.'...
