It is the day of Harry's birthday. What will happen on this day? And how exactly will Harry deal with some of the extremely unusual gifts, which he receives on this equally unusual day?

Authors Note—Harry Potter is not mine, unfortunate as it may sound, in any way, shape or form. I am just a normal (At least I think I am) teenage girl who is totally obsessed with the creations of the wonderfully creative and imaginative mind of JK Rowling.

Chapter Eleven.

Of Birthday Dreams and Visions

He was flying somewhere, on what seemed to be a giant black motorcycle. He soared through the clouds above a wide, crystal clear, blue ocean. Harry dived down suddenly, weaving through the clouds, wind wiping his face and blowing his hair all around. Suddenly the motorcycle came through to a clearing in the clouds. As the clouds were clearing, Harry noticed that there were figures down below him. And, he noticed, many of them seemed to have red hair.

Soaring down through the blue sky, Harry's mood was lightening at every moment. As he got closer, he began to notice several of the faces. There was Sirius, looking as cheerful and as happy, as he had looked in the picture of Harry's parents wedding. And there, standing arm in arm were none other than Harry's parents themselves. They were looking up at him and waving, saying numerous things to each other, things of which Harry could not hear anything at all. There were also many others chatting and looking up at him. They lounged on the sandy beaches, swimming in the cold clear waters, or picnicking on the emerald green grass sandwiched between an abundant numbers of palm trees.

But all of a sudden, about fifteen meters above the land Harry suddenly ran upon some type of resistance in the air, which caused him to stop suddenly in his decent down to the sandy beach below. It was as if there was a translucent barrier surrounding this mysterious island. Harry bent forward to feel the resistance, and found that it was as unyielding as a wall; only it was clear and most definately separating Harry from the group of people down on the isle. Harry leaned forward a little bit further, trying to find out if the barrier took up much more than he had first thought, when he suddenly found himself falling… down. Harry looked back towards the motorcycle… only to find that it was not a motorcycle at all… but a dementor. Harry gasped for air, as he was suddenly out of breath, as the cold, cold air became suddenly colder…

Harry unexpectedly found himself suspended in mid air. Looking down, he saw the reason. Death Eaters. They appeared suddenly into the lush island paradise. They had invaded his dream just as the dementor had done, and was still doing. Silently they pointed their long wands at each of the people inside his dream. And silently Sirius and every member of the family he never knew, collapsed into the murderous green vines, which had just appeared along the horizon of his vision. Then there were no more islands, and the ocean was no longer blue, but red. And over the remains of the island, scarlet words were being formed in his vision. These words that spelled out the same message, which was being spoken by an all too familiar voice, a hard, cold, and cruel voice, inside of his head. "Happy Birthday Harry Potter."

In the dark room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, which was his, Harry Potter woke up with a start.

"What was that about?"

Harry wondered out loud. He felt chilled by the vision he had just seen while he was asleep, as well as by the cold room. Looking towards the fireplace, Harry saw the reason for one of the two chilling factors on his mind at the moment. There was no fire; it had probably gone out sometime during the night. Almost for a second, Harry wondered why this house could not have a proper house elf, but then he thought better of that thought. Harry was glad that there finally was no longer a house elf in Grimmauld Place.

Harry chuckled to himself. He remembered the look on Fred's face when he had found Kreacher dead in his little cubby under the boiler. Whither he had just died from old age, or was given an order by the portrait of that hideous Mrs. Black, no one knew, or wanted to know for that matter.

Harry was thrown out of his present thoughts by some loud and insistent pounding on the closed door of his bedchamber.

"Happy birthday Harry!"

"Are you up yet?"

"Come on out Harry! Mum has a huge birthday breakfast waiting downstairs for you."

Without much of an answer, Harry got dressed and headed downstairs. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Happy birthday Harry!"

What seemed like the entire Order of the Phoenix was crowded into the kitchen of number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"What the… why are you guys all here?"

Tonks spoke up first.

"For your birthday of course! I would not have missed it for the world."

"Aww, you just came because your sweet Remmie would be here."

Harry stared long and hard at Tonks, and then over to the slightly blushing form of his godfather. Harry had never heard him being called anything like that before. When he looked back to Tonks, she had changed her appearance again to hide the bright red blush that was slowly creeping up along her neck and face.

"Of course I did not come because of that… that is just an added…" Here she paused, trying to think up the right thing to say. "That is just an added bonus for me, with my coming to Harry's birthday breakfast and all."

Harry stared incredulously at Tonks. So she found the fact that Moony was staying at Grimmauld Place, as an additional benefit to her coming to his birthday breakfast, did she. That seemed a bit silly. This day was just getting stranger and stranger as it was coming along.

After an extraordinary breakfast of all of his favorite foods, Harry did not know how the day could possibly get better. Although his dream was still on his mind quite a bit, he had not had time to inform Dumbledore about it.

Harry was taken out of his deep thoughts by Ron.

"Hey Harry! You should start opening your presents now!"

Startled, Harry looked up to see that there was a massive pile of presents on the kitchen, where the breakfast had been just a bit earlier.

"Wow. That is a lot! Guys, you did not have to do this you know…"

"We knew that Harry. But we really wanted to do it you know."

"Thanks!"

Without another word, presents were handed, or shoved into his hands from the cheerful crowd in front of him.

It seemed to Harry that the presents would never end. It was like the type of party that Dudley would get every year, except for the fact that many of the presents were of a much stranger and magical nature.

From Fred and George, Harry received a collection of their newest joke products. From Tonks, came an emerald green wand carrier, which matched his eyes as she so put it, and he never should be able to blow away a buttock if he used it, even if he had wanted to. From Professor McGonagall, came his broomstick, much to everyone's delight, along with a "You will be needing this next year if you are going to be the Gryffindor seeker."

From Moony and Mad-Eye Moody, came a collection of books on defense, which Harry thought could come in as useful if the DA was continued in the following year. From Ron, came a packet of chocolate frogs, which Harry opened and offered a few back to him, which Ron gratefully accepted. From Ginny, came several of the newest products of which Fred and George had just come up upon, such as spell loaded wands, and a set of rings which made an image of the wearer of the first, where the other was placed. Harry thanked her profoundly, glad that she had not taken his strange behavior against him from several weeks before. An event of which even he could not grasp fully. There were also many other presents that morning, but the strangest of all came when all the others were opened.

A single, bulky package was standing by his chair. As Harry opened the brown packaging paper, gasps were to be heard fro around the room.

Hermione's voice could be heard above the chatter.

Harry? Is that what I think it is? I mean, they are quite rare!"

Standing on the floor in front of Harry, was a Pensive.