Still in search of a beta! Please, people, don't be shy! I really need it. It takes so freaking long to correct my own stuff, and then I don't like it anyways! I need a beta!
A Wizard Becoming
The morning of Harry's birthday turned out to be one of the worst of the summer. The cloudyskywas grey and overcast, desolate of sunshine. Rain pelted the windows with vicious tapping, awakening Harry from a rather peaceful slumber.
Surveying the room, he realized that Ron was already up and dressed. There was little light in the room, due to the lack of sun, and he fumbled around in the semi dark for his glasses. Slipping them on, he stood, stretching languidly and scratching absently at his head. After pulling on clean, unrumpled clothes and tucking his wand into the waistband of his jeans, he made his way downstairs.
The first thing he noticed was the odd, stifling silence of the house. He hadn't heard any noise from any of the rooms on his way downstairs, either, and he was starting to get slightly worried. He was pretty sure that the Weasley's wouldn't leave anywhere without waking him, or at least leaving notice, and from checking the living room, he found nothing.
He was making his way toward the kitchen when he heard the sound of muffled voices. He was alarmed at first, not recognizing the voice. But then there was the distinct giggle of Fleur Delacour, and Harry felt a grin tug at his lips as he pushed the kitchen door open.
There was a rather deafening chorus of "Happy Birthday!", and many figures descended upon him. Fred and George gave him rather hearty slaps on the back, Ron grinned awkwardly, and Hermione gave him a quick hug. Ginny offered him a rather tepid smile before Mrs. Weasley appeared, pulling him into a rather tight embrace. Harry noticed that her eyes were glistening and wet, but he didn't remark. Fleur kissed each cheek, and Mr. Weasley shook his hand firmly.
Harry was disappointed when he noticed Lupin, Bill, and many members of the Order missing. Hermione, catching his crestfallen look, smiled brightly, motioning to the door. "They're all taking turns patrolling. Don't worry, they'll be in when Moody deems it 'safe'," Hermione added, squeezing his hand gently when he nodded.
They proceeded to the dining room, where a two-layer cake was awaiting them. Harry, after, gaping in awe at the rather considerable size, was finally shoved gently forward by Mrs. Weasley.
"Go on, Harry, dear. Remus and Alastor won't be in for another few minutes, and Kingsley is coming later, so do go on," she added, gesturing at the seventeen burning candles situated in the cake. Harry nodded, blinking several times.
Closing his eyes and basking in the slight warmth of the burning candles, he entertained the thought of making a wish, as he had done as a child. He pondered it fora moment, his eyes squeezing tightly shut in concentration. What would he wish for?
For Voldemort to be gone. For Ron and his family to be out of danger. For Hermione and her family to be safe. For all those lives taken to not be in vain. He exhaled in a quick, jerky breath, succeeding in smearing a bit of the wax from the candles onto the cake's top layer of frosting. Something that didn't deter Ron or Ginny from reaching for them, he noted.
"Are you okay, Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked softly, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. Harry nodded, plastering a smile onto his face as he faced the decent stack of wrapped gifts. Mrs. Weasley, noticing the direction his thoughts had taken, gave him a look of mock reprove. "We have to wait for Remus and the others before we start with your gifts, dear," she admonished, forcefully steering him away from the stack and to a chair, where he was instantly barraged with an onslought of questions.
"So, can you do magic now, mate?" Ron asked, grinning broadly as he gestured at Harry. Harry frowned, looking up at Ron with a furrowed brow.
"I dunno. I reckon I can. I'm seventeen and all, right?" He reached for his wand, pulling it out and pointing it towards one of the abandoned candles on the table. Pausing momentarily, he looked to Hermione. "What should I do?" he asked, at a loss as he stared blankly at the candle.
Hermione smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "Just give it a wave," she suggested, nodding her head at his wand and then proceeding to the candle. Harry shrugged as well, brandishing his wand with a slight flick of his wrist.
To his utter surprise, and Ron and Hermione's as well, the candle hopped to life, the top sparking into a myriad of gold and red colors. It did a small jig around the table before sizzling out, toppling onto it's side and leaving a small burn mark on the polished wooden table.
"You made it dance?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry grinned, elated that his first time of adult magic had worked.
"Who cares what it did," he insisted. "I did magic!"
Hermione frowned, giving him a slightly strange look. "Yes, Harry, and you've done magic before . . ." She trailed off, looking meaningfully at him. Harry lost some of his enthusiasm, but the pleased look still remained as he turned back to the candle.
"Yeah, but never outside of school without something happening to me," he replied absently, staring at the candle with a deep frown. "How do I make it do other stuff? You two have already had practice at this," he added, jabbing Ron in the ribs when he chortled with glee at his supposed advantage.
"Well, usually you just concentrate. Didn't you ever pay attention in Transfiguration?" Hermione, realizing how foolish the question sounded, rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Nevermind. Anyways," she continued, her tone turning businesslike as she withdrew her own wand and aimed it at the candle. "You have to concentrate. Unless the spell is an actual incantation, it's all in your head." With that, she swished her wand about, and the candle sparked to life once again, dancing about happily and doing a few impressive leaps before it waddled over to the cake, floating about before landing unsteadily in the frosting.
"See?" Hermione asked, indicating the candle. "Just concentrate. Now, you try," she urged, retracting her wand. The candle went out with a wiff of smoke, and Harry sighed, his wand aimed and at the ready once again.
The candle came to life, it's flame reaching skyward in a brilliant flash of carmine light. It burnt out quickly, though, causing the candle to melt into a smoking puddle of wax that dried quickly and became an auxiliary part of Mrs. Weasley's table.
"Watch you don't burn yourself, Potter," a familiar voice growled, and Harry turned to face Alastor Moody. He limped forward, both magical and normal eye fixated on Harry's disappointed face. "Better learn to control that spurt, there," he added, nodding at the cooling wax.
Harry fought off a surge of disappointment, casting the wax a scathing look. He apparently needed more practice. He looked back up at Moody. "Professor Lupin and Shacklebot here, yet?" he asked, giving his gifts an eager look.
Moody let out that barking, grinding laugh and nodded his head, thumbing behind him at the pair, who were conversing quietly, their heads together. Harry stood up, nodding at Moody once before making his way over to Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebot.
"Professor," Harry greeted, grinning widely. Lupin laughed, waving his hand in a dismissive matter.
"I'm not a professor anymore, Harry," he said good naturedly. Kingsley Shacklebot gave Harry a firm handshake, offering a small, albeit tight, grin.
"Heard you're taking your Apparition test tomorrow?" he said, looking briefly past Harry to Moody, who was talking with Ron. Harry's eyes widened, and he nodded dumbly. He had completely forgotten about the Apparition test, what with the wedding and all.
"Yeah, with Moody," he said, glancing back as well. Moody clapped a rather pleased looking Ron on the shoulder before limping off toward Mr. Weasley, who looked browbeat and worse for the wear.
"Good luck, then. I'm off to see Arthur, update him on the grounds check," Kingsley muttered, excusing himself and starting off after Moody. Lupin spared them a passing glance, but quickly focused on Harry.
"So, Harry, how does it feel to be an actual adult?" Lupin asked conversationally. Harry grinned, shrugging his shoulders in an undecided manner.
"Not sure. Haven't really done anything but make a candle dance," he said sardonically, causing Lupin to chuckle quietly. "I suppose I'll have to practice," Harry added grudgingly with a sigh. "And then there's my test tomorrow," he said, giving his wand, now in his pocket, a helpless look. Lupin laughed lightly, giving Harry's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
"Don't worry. You'll pass brilliantly. And it does take practice to get the hang of your wand, especially without using incantations. Just between you and me," Lupin added, leaning closer and lowering his voice a few octaves, "James and I actually burned half of his wardrobe in our first attempts," he said, his voice and eyes filled with laughter.
Harry managed a laugh, picturing a younger version of his father and a not so weary Lupin with their wands raised, staring in shock at the wardrobe in flames in front of them.
"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, coming toward him. "I suppose you can open your presents now," she said, steering him toward the pile. Fred and George, who were shaking a small box, looked up guiltily, dropping the parcel and taking a step back before Mrs. Weasley could notice. Harry grinned, but chose not to raise Mrs. Weasley's ire by informing her that the twins had been shaking out his presents. "Go on, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, gesturing at the closest gift.
From Lupin, he received a rather stunning set of adult wizard's robes, in the same scarlet color of Gryffindor. From Hermione, he received a volume of advanced defensive and offensive techniques, a wand holster from Ginny that buckled onto his wrist, an assortment of different kinds of Shield Hats and Cloaks from Fred and George, a new cloak from Ron, and a sweater with a large, golden H on the front from Mrs. Weasley. Kingsley Shacklebot promised to give him thorough lessons in his spare time, and Moody insisted that his present was getting Harry an Apparition test without an appointment("You know how swamped that ruddy place is now? You're lucky you're not on the two month waiting list!"). Although Harry wasn't complaining.
After the mess was cleared and the room settled down, Harry found himself face to face with Moody again, who had a rather keen look in his gnarled eye. He studied Harry silently for a moment before erupting into a harsh, scratchy fit of laughter, tossing his head back.
Harry, not sure what had brought on this sudden insight of mirth, simply stared, perplexed. "Er, Professor Moody, are you all right?" he asked, concern for the man's sanity evident in his voice. Moody quieted somewhat, fixing Harry with another piercing look.
"You ready, boy?" Moody asked, his tone solemn. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably under his close scrutiny, toying with the wand attached to his new holster. He shrugged, not sure where Moody was going with this.
"Ready for what?" he asked, giving Moody a fleeting look before focusing back on his wand. Moody let his words hang in the air for a moment.
"For your test, Potter," he said finally, his voice hard and edgy. Harry sighed visibly in relief. Although he appreciated the effort, he really didn't want to hear another lecture on how safe he had to be now that he was an adult and Dumbledore was gone and Hogwart's wasn't particularily safe even though Minerva McGonagall was a great witch.
Taking a moment to sort his thoughts out, Harry shrugged once again. "I remember some of the stuff from our classes last year," he hedged, deciding that a route of circumlocution would work best in this case. Moody, however, would have none of it.
"Are you ready, Potter?" he asked, his tone slightly more aggressive. Harry nodded, steeling himself for more harsh words. Moody, though, seemed to have finished with his censure, and he nodded his head. "Good. You're on your own if you fail," he added.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied automatically. He had no idea why Moody was being so caustic, but he decided not to push the issue. He sorted through his brain for a new topic. "Er, Professor," he ventured, his eyes trained on Ron, who was talking to Hermione across the room.
"I don't know about being no professor, boy," Moody growled, narrowing his eyes and following Harry's gaze. Harry nodded absently, still focused on Ron.
"Er, sir," he faltered for a moment, "Ron failed his test, right?" Moody nodded. "So, is he coming with us, tomorrow, I mean?" Harry asked. Moody let out one of those abrasive chuckles but nodded nonetheless.
"Weasley's coming with us, Potter. He better ruddy well pass, too, or I'll have his neck," he muttered, sending Ron a scowl before his magical eye swiveled back around to focus on Harry. "Well, boy, I'll see you tomorrow, then. Be ready by ten, your test is at eleven," he said gruffly, giving Harry another sharp nod before he limped toward Arthur Weasley. Harry stared after him for a moment.
"Tomorrow," he said grimly, swallowing hard. He had neglected to tell Moody that he remembered absolutely nothing from those classes from the Ministry.
To say that he was nervous would be that biggest understatement of the year. He was beyond nervous, beyond trepidation, beyond anything. He was plain out frightened.
He wanted so badly to pass this test, and in a last ditch effort to load his brain with at least some thought of Apparition, he had approached Ron and Hermione, who had passed her test long ago, and asked for advice on what he should do.
Hermione had immediately chastised him for not paying attention, but Ron had launched into a lengthy discussion of what was expected, how he had to Apparate, and so on. Hermione had then dutifully reminded him of the dreaded D's of last year.
"Destination, determination, and deliberation, Harry," Hermione had said, implanting the three words quite thoroughly into his head.
Harry desperately tried to remember the three D's as he tagged along beside Moody, who was weary and cautious, magical spinning about nonstop in it's perusal of the street. They entered the phone booth silently, Harry staring at the shabby, rundown buildings around the street.
They had taken another highly charmed and protected car to a side street in London, where Mr. Weasley and another unknown Ministry official had dropped them off at an inconspicuous corner. Moody had dragged Harry(Ron was to come at a later time, due to the backlog)in a few circles and other odd patterns along the streets to throw off an followers, though he assured Harry there were none, and had then marched up toward the phone booth, shoving Harry inside and slamming the door.
Punching in a few buttons, a womanly voice echoed in Harry's ear, asking them to state their business. Moody growled out something about Apparition, and they were then orderedto wait for their admission that would comein a small tray that protruded from the bottom of the pay phone. A second later, and two silver badges were in the tray, each bearing their name and 'Apparition License' in bold letters across the badge.
Harry pinned it to the front of his robes, the one's he had received from Lupin, and the phone booth clicked loudly. It dropped jerkily a few feet, causing Moody to lose his balance slightly and go smashing into the door of the booth. Muttering a few curses, he banged loudly on the booth, and the rest of their descent was smooth and uninterrupted.
The phone booth stopped after quite a bit of slow, tedious traveling, and Harry and Moody were admitted into the Atrium.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his heart racing as he fought to keep his breath steady. How long had it been since they had come down these same steps, passed the same fountain, and the same fireplaces lining the walls?
"Keep it together, Potter," Moody said sternly. Harry remained silent as the approached the golden gates past the Fountain of Magical Brethren. A man different from the last time Harry had been here took their wands. After registering them and returning them, they were allowed onto the lift.
"Level Six," Moody said roughly, and the lift slowly began it's rise. Harry, having been only in the Department of Mysteries and Mr. Weasley's office, had no idea where they were when the lift let them off and into a wide room filled with fireplaces.
"Floo regulation and the sort," Moody offered, steering him past the room. Harry briefly noted that there was a drizzle in the magical windows, and he wondered why such gloomy weather had been chosen. "Here we are, Potter," Moody said abruptly, stopping outside a door. He opened it and shoved Harry inside.
"Potter, Harry?"
Harry looked up, startled at the voice. A middle aged man in gloomy grey robes moved forward, his tone and countenace filled with somberness. He offered a hand, which Harry shook, and then inclined his head at Moody.
"I'll take him from here, Alastor," the man said. Moody nodded, turning to Harry.
"I'll be outside when you're done, Potter." With that, he was out the door and gone, leaving Harry alone with the strange man.
"My name is Fillius McGee, Potter, and I'll be your Apparition instructor for the test. Please leave all heavy objects behind in this tray," the man said in a monotone, a small wooden box appearing. Harry, not wanting to split with his wand, simply stared. McGee sighed and the box disappeared.
"You will proceed to Room Two, where another trained official will be waiting. Please note that any incident of splinching or seperation of body parts from the body will result in immediate relocation to St. Mungo's, where all bills and fees will be directed to the applicant. If the applicant should end up inside or in between a wall by chance, the full dangers of the test are undertaken, and the bills and fees of the removal from said wallwill be sent to the applicant. These are the terms and agreements of theDepartment of Magical Transportation.Understand?" the wizard asked, staring at Harry blankly.
Harry nodded once again. Determination, deliberation, and . . . What was the other D? he thought frantically, glancing at the door Fillius McGee was opening. "Please proceed to Room Two." Decision? No, that doesn't make sense . . . D, I need a word that starts with D, he thought, forgetting for the moment that McGee was still waiting. "Please proceed to Room Two," he said, a note of impatience creeping into his rather monotonous voice.
Harry moved forward in a start, managing to trip over the hem of his robes. Ignoring the rather patronizing look McGee gave him, he bolted through the door, emerging into a bare room with white washed walls and a heavy metal door. A plump woman waited in the corner.
"Harry Potter?" she asked kindly, raising an eyebrow. Harry nodded stupidly, realizing that he hadn't spoken at all the entire time he had been at the Ministry.
"Yes," he croaked, feeling his face flush with embarassment when the witch gave him an understanding look. "I'm Harry Potter," he added, his voice more steady. The witch only smiled.
"Now, I'll be explaining the distance of Apparition to you, so listen closely," she said, whipping her wand out. After pointing out a few places in the air, Harry was presented with a visual. After a lengthy lecture about the importance of passing a test, and the order not to panic in case of accidental splinching, the witch waved her wand, and the visual disappeared.
"Now," she said, turning to him with a bright smile. "Apparate," she said, pocketing her wand and clapping her hands together. Harry closed his eyes, careful not to concentrate too hard.
Remember the visual, he thought, recalling the empty, treeless meadow with the small creek. Determination, deliberation, and . . . Destination! The other word was destination! he thought. There was a faint pop, and he felt as if his body was being tugged in all directions. Concentrate, concentrate, he chided himself.
The splitting feeling stopped, and he cracked his eyes open. He was aware of the sound of rushing water and the chirping of birds as they flitted about from branch to branch, whistling happily to each other. Noiselessly, the Ministry witch appeared at his side, a delighted smile on her face.
"Excellent, Mr. Potter! Now, if you could only Apparate back . . ."
The bare, white walls, the heavy metal door, the empty feel of the room . . . This time the pop was louder, although the splitting feeling wasn't as intense. He opened his eyes, and jumped back.
He was standing mere inches from the wall of the room, his knuckles skimming the surface as he hopped back. The witch moved behind him, and he turned, looking for some note of approval. To his relief, the smile was still on her plump face.
"Excellent, Mr. Potter. Just one more destination, and I'll send you through," she added, beckoning him with her hand as she created another visual. Harry, elated at the thought of having passed half his test, payed attention closely for one of the first times in his life, and when the witch waved her wand and the visual disappeared, he was prepared, and he closed his eyes . . .
The pop, and he was standing in the middle of an empty highway bereft of cars and people. He opened his eyes, and the witch was smiling at him from the safety of the side of the road.
"You were supposed to land here, dear," she said, indicating the position next to her, "But no worries. There was no splinching. Now, back to the Ministry," she urged, giving him that sweet smile. Harry closed his eyes.
Determination, deliberation, and destination, he thought, rather pleased with himself. There was the now familiar pop and he was once again standing in the empty room, albeit much safer away from the wall then his previous result.
"Brilliantly done, Mr. Potter!" the witch said excitedly, clapping her hands in glee once more. Harry nodded, exhilerated and out of breath. He had passed! Or so he thought . . . He gave the joyous witch a puzzled frown. "Through here," she urged, shoving him gently through the metal door, which had swung open at the touch of the witch's wand.
Harry had no choice but to go through, and he was in yet another room, this time one more colorful. It had a large book case lining the walls, and there was a wizened old man behind the desk, stooped over a quill and parchment, a half empty ink bottle next to his hand.
"Excuse me," Harry said, taking a few tentative steps forward. The scratching of the quill continued, and Harry felt a slight stab of annoyance. Surely the man wasn't deaf. "Excuse me," he said, raising his voice to a louder pitch. The man stopped, looking up, his face filled with annoyance.
"Can't you see I'm busy, boy?" he snapped, completely ignoring Harry and returning back to his parchment. Harry frowned. The man stopped writing once again, though he didn't look up. He shoved his wire rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
"I was told to come in here after I passed my test," Harry said stiffly, offended by the man's brusque tone and insulting attitude. The man finally looked up again, giving Harry an appraising look.
"I see. Name?" he barked, his tone no less insulting. Harry gritted his teeth.
"Harry Potter." The momentary lapse of the quill scratching against parchment was the only sign that the man recognized the name, and Harry was relieved that the old codger decided not to make a spectacle of it.
"All right, Potter, here's your license," the man said callously, thrusting a small card toward Harry. He snatched it up and clutched it tightly in his hands as the man stood up and cleared his throat. "I hereby declare that Harry Potter, born July 31, is alloted the use of Apparition wherever it may be accepted." With that, he sat back down, officially dismissing Harry.
"Well, go on," he said finally, realizing that Harry was still there. Harry, having no choice, turned and went back through the metal door, which appeared normal and wooden on the old man's side. He was greeted by Fillius McGee and the pleasant witch, who shook his hand before patting his on the shoulder.
"License," McGee said, holding his hand out. Harry deposited it in his outstretched palm. McGee pulled his wand out and pointed it at the License. An upraised official Ministry seal formed in the corner, and the License was back in Harry's palm once again. "You are now able to Apparate. Congratulations."
"Through this door, Mr. Potter," the witch said, unaffected by the man's empty tone. Harry followed her back out the door, and was relieved to see Moody standing against the wall, his leg drawn up, and his arms crossed against his chest. "Alastor," the witch said, greeting Moody. Moody observed the happy look on the witch's face and the proud one Harry was wearing before breaking out into a grin. Harry personally thought it resembled a grimace, but he didn't voice his opinion when Moody clapped him on the shoulder.
"I passed, sir," Harry said, grinning broadly and flashing his License. Moody kept the grimacing smile on his face and nodded his head.
"'Course you did, boy. Now, hurry up, I've got to get Weasley in here after Brown finishes upher test," he muttered, nodding to the witch before leading Harry back down the halls and toward the lift.
"So, Potter, you ready to Apparate?" Moody asked, stepping out of the phone booth. He glanced around, and Harry noticed that he clutched his wand under the cover of his cloak. The street was also empty of Muggles or any other being, and Harry nodded.
The Burrow and it's heavenly smells and bustling noise came to mind, and Harry smiled faintly as the three D's floated through his mind.
Determination, deliberation, and destination . . .
Oh, boy, that was strenuous. All in one night! Be proud! And I still need a beta!
Oh, and if you have any ideas as to locations of a Horcrux, or anything that can be asserted into that informational area, please note me in a review or something! Alas, I've come to a plot hole in my story . . .
Anyways, beta, people, beta! I'm desperate!