Harry Potter and the Library of Templar

Chapter Three:

The Unexpected Results

A sharp pain in his hand awoke Harry. He groaned and rolled over, clearly not willing to leave the comfort of his bed. A sharp jab in his back, following by two on his neck, finally coaxed Harry into opening his eyes and sitting up. "Hedwig?"

The owl sat regarding Harry, as though appraising a rare jewel. She hooted in a satisfied manner, pushing her head against her owner's hand, demanding he stroke her. Harry laughed. "I missed you too, girl. What've you got there?" Gently, Harry lifted Hedwig up to his eyes, squinting at the envelope attached to her claws.

Hedwig flew from his fingers to the nightstand and back, depositing Harry's glasses into his lap. "Thanks," Harry mumbled. Finally being able to see clearly, Harry took the letter from Hedwig, settling back with her on his lap.

There was no writing on the envelope. Wary, he looked at Hedwig. She hooted in reassurance, nudging at his hand and the letter. "Alright, if you say so." Harry carefully opened the letter, letting out a long breath when nothing happened.

'Dear Mr. Potter,

I have been informed of your return, and thus thought it only right to return your owl to you. During her stay, we have put Hedwig under numerous protection spells. She is quite the cooperative owl, seemed to know you would be coming back. It is now safe for Hedwig to deliver messages between yourself and your friends. I must impress upon you, however, the fact that important information should not be passed through any form other than face to face conversations. Not even the muggle telephone lines are safe.

Now then, I imagine you wish to know when you will be allowed to depart from Privet Drive. I will be sending someone along tomorrow (or I suppose today, by the time Hedwig reaches you) to escort you to Mrs. Figg's. You will floo from there to the Leaky Cauldron. You and Weasleys and your guard will be able to shop for your school supplies. I have had Professor McGonagall include your supply list, as well as you O.W.L. scores. She wishes to express her sincere congratulations upon your scores.

You'll be coming to headquarters, of course, now that you've returned. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have asked me to tell you that your birthday gifts are waiting in your room.

Professor A. Dumbledore'

Grinning happily at the prospect of seeing Ron and Hermione again, Harry moved on to the next parchment, where is O.W.L. scores were displayed.

O.W.L. Scores

Mr. Harry James Potter, Year Five, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Astronomy : Practical – P

Care of Magical Creatures : Practical – A

Charms : Practical – EE / Theory – EE

Defense Against the Dark Arts : Practical – O / Theory – O

Divination : Practical – P

History of Magic : Practical – P

Potions : Practical – O / Theory – O

Transfiguration : Practical – EE / Theory – EE

Total : 10

Added to Mr. Potter's original total of nine, was his extraordinarily impressive work on his practical Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.

In awe, Harry read over his grades a few times, staring particularly long at his potions grade. He knew that he needed an O to get into Snape's N.E.W.T. level class. He also knew that he needed to pass the potions N.E.W.T. to be accept into the Auror program. Though Harry had been questioning his sanity as of late concerning getting into the Ministry when he was so appalled by the Minister himself. The fact of the matter, however, was that Harry had needed an overall Outstanding to make Snape's cut.

Deciding to worry about school later, Harry began checking his room for missed belongings. He found this highly unlikely, seeing as he hadn't been there for more than three days of summer, but checked nonetheless. Deciding to take his Gryffindor banner (present from Neville, Dean, and Seamus) from his wardrobe back to school this year, Harry shut his trunk firmly.

Hearing the usual noises of Uncle Vernon preparing to leave for work, Harry hurried downstairs.

"Uncle Vernon."

His uncle, ready to leave, hand on the doorknob, stopped and turned to his nephew. Suddenly, the sharp contrast of life on Privet Drive at present to that of Harry's early childhood was astounding. For a moment, Harry was gobsmacked, mind racing over what would have happened to him, had he not been a wizard.

"Hurry up, boy," Uncle Vernon growled, impatience very clear. Harry shook himself free of his thoughts.

"I'm leaving today," Harry said. "Professor Dumbledore is sending someone over to pick me up. I'm not sure when, so I may not be here when you get home." Uncle Vernon looked at him, a rather poorly concealed rage at Harry's apparent audacity on his face.

"Don't leave any of your crap here," Vernon sneered. He slammed the door behind him as he left.

Shaking his head, Harry went into the kitchen to find Aunt Petunia and Dudley. He relayed his message to them, though the two didn't say anything. With a sigh Harry turned to leave. He paused at the door.

"I'm not too sure if I'll be back next summer," Harry said softly. Aunt Petunia turned to look at him, and he knew Dudley was listening, as the mechanical movement of his fork had stopped.

"What do you mean?" she asked, voice cracking slightly at the end. Harry hesitated.

"It's just that, with everything that's going on… well, I don't know what the circumstances will be next year. Things are changing so rapidly." Harry's voice had a definite hint of desperation. "And, all things considered, you're my only blood relatives. I mean, I don't want you all dead or anything. So… so I figured that if today may be the last day we see each other, I might as well let you know. In case you, well, you cared."

Harry didn't wait for any response; he wasn't really looking for one.

It was a little after noon when someone finally rang the bell. Harry, who had been sitting on the stairs counting the small polka dots on Aunt Petunia's lamp for the tenth time, jumped up, nearly falling face forward onto the carpet with his enthusiasm. His exuberance vanished when he wrenched the door open.

So stunned at seeing Professor Severus Snape on his doorstep, it took a moment for Harry to realize Professor McGonagall stood behind him. "Er, hi Professors," Harry said, somewhat lamely.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall intoned. Snape simply shot a contemptuous look at Harry.
"Are you ready to depart?"

"Yes," Harry said, smiling slightly once again. He refused to let Snape damper his unusually pleasant mood. "Only since we're going all the way to Mrs. Figg's, I figured you might do a lightening charm on my trunk. I left it up in my room."

"Of course, Potter," McGonagall said. Her eyes wandered past Harry's shoulder. Figuring his aunt must have been peeking out from the kitchen, he was surprised to turn and see Dudley standing in the hall. He was staring, wide-eyed at Professor Snape, who was, in turn, gazing at him coolly.

"Right then, my room's upstairs," Harry said, deciding that Dudley was having far too much exposure to wizards this summer.

McGonagall's curiosity seemed to want to hold her near Dudley, though she followed Harry upstairs without comment. Snape stalked along behind her, looking murderous.

"Who was that?" McGonagall asked as soon as Harry shut the door to his room.

"Dudley, my cousin." Harry was astonished McGonagall's logic hadn't placed that together. Snape snorted. "What?"

"That thing can hardly be classified as human. He looks like he has swallowed a hippogriff whole," Snape sneered. McGonagall gave him a scathing look.

"Well, that's Dud for you," Harry said, slightly amused that he and Snape agreed upon anything. But as Snape looked around Harry's room with distaste, loathing slowly returned to Harry. He ignored Snape's tutting as he inspected the room. McGonagall was looking at the mattress on Harry's floor.

"Is your bed frame broken, Mr. Potter?" questioned McGonagall. Harry gave her an odd glance.

"Um, no. I just sleep on a mattress," Harry said. Wondering why everyone cared so much about his mattress, Harry pointed to his trunk. "There it is. My whole life compressed into that trunk." Snape made an odd noise, though when Harry glanced at him, he was simply looking out of the window.

Without comment, McGonagall, instead of lightening the trunk shrunk it to the size of a match box. She handed it to Harry, telling him to ask someone at Grimmauld Place to change it back to it original size when he arrived. "No time to dawdle, Potter." McGonagall turned and led them out of the room. Harry left last, feeling his professors' gaze on him as he shut the door. Snape, he noticed, lingered a moment before following.

Much to Harry's surprise, his aunt stood at the bottom of the stairs. Saying nothing, she handed him an old envelope with what felt to be a novel inside and a small, rather worn blue baby blanket, then proceeded to walk back into the kitchen. Flipping it over, Harry saw the relatively familiar script of Albus Dumbledore forming his aunt and uncle's names. Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry pulled out the worn letter inside. Seeing the date in the corner, Harry realized it had to have been left with him all those years ago, straight after his parents' deaths.

"Albus left you wrapped in that," McGonagall said, pointing at the blanket. Harry nodded, somewhat mystified. Concluding that years of magical exposure was certainly changing the Dursleys in a decidedly odd way, Harry folded the blanket and slipped the letter into the folds.

"Do you think you could shrink this as well?" Harry asked, a bit hesitant. McGonagall nodded and did as Harry asked. "Thanks."

By the time that they reached Mrs. Figg's, Harry was very uncomfortable. They had spent the entire duration of the journey in silence. A heavy tension hung between Harry and Snape, one that McGonagall was clearly confused by.

"Now then, Potter," McGonagall instructed. "I'll be flooing there before you, and Professor Snape will follow us, a few seconds later. He's going to be acting as if he's completely separate from us, in case any Death Eaters are there. We don't want anyone getting suspicious. I'll be going around with you, Miss Granger, and the Weasleys. You may see Se – Professor Snape today. I'll expect you to have the common sense not to say anything to him. He has is own shopping to be doing." With that, McGonagall flooed away.

Standing rather nervously next to his potions professor, Harry tapped his trainer on the floor, counting in his head to ten. An eternity seemed to stretch between each number.

One.

He could feel Snape's glare on him.

Two.

Snape had to know that he was cracking his fingers. Harry certainly heard it.

Three.

Harry decided he hated silence.

Four.

He hated silence almost as much as he hated Snape.

Five.

What was Snape's problem anyways? Harry reasoned that he had a right to be angry; Snape had been horrid to him since the first day.

Six.

Then again, Harry's father had been a real bully in the pensive.

Seven.

Harry would have reasoned that Snape was resentful for the Pensive incident itself, but that was nearly five years into this hate-pattern.

Eight.

Snape did save Harry's life an awful lot though. For someone who hated him.

Nine.

Even after that life debt with Harry's father was repaid. There was that incident with Lupin.

Ten.

Hell yes.

Harry wasted no time in grabbing a handful of powder and hastily (albeit carefully) flooing to the Leaky Cauldron.

McGonagall nodded to him, and they turned to leave. Harry heard, as they stepped out into the alley, Snape arriving through the fireplace. The sight of Susan Bones and her aunt at the alley brought Harry back from his wandering thoughts.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Madame Bones said, smiling widely. "Minerva, a pleasure as always."

"Amelia!" Harry watched with a bit of amusement as the two began talking as if they were old friends. Which, Harry supposed, wasn't really a big surprise.

"Hello, Harry," Susan said, smiling softly. Harry, for some odd reason, felt a slight flutter in shi stomach.

"Hullo, Susan." Harry realized quickly that he and Susan had very little in common. "So, what N.E.W.T. classes are you taking?" Grinning a little wider, Susan and Harry followed the adults into Diagon Alley.

"Well, I was really excited when I got into Potions and Defense. I was really worried, what with Snape and Umbridge. I want to be an Auror ─ have since I was a toddler ─ and I really needed those grades. Plus I got into Charms and Transfiguration. Aunt Mia's letting me buy something extra today. I was thinking about a cat or something," Susan said, rather quickly. Harry was surprised to find that the apparently she girl had such a set of lungs. "What do you want to do?"

"Actually, well, um," Harry was blushing, he knew, "I was thinking about being an Auror as well." Susan nodded enthusiastically.

"That's brilliant!" Susan looked hesitant, momentarily falling silent. She glanced up, seeing Harry's friends not far off. "Look, I feel really odd asking, but are you cont-" Susan stopped short as a hysterical Hermione threw herself against Harry.

"Harry!" Harry was startled by the sobbing edge in Hermione's voice. "I've been so worried, Harry. So worried. What if Voldemort had you? Or you'd died?" Harry carefully eased out of Hermione's death grip. He appreciated her affection and worry, but he would rather like to keep insides from being crushed.

Ron stood before him, unsure for a moment. But Hermione grabbed them both by their necks, quickly pinning them all in a large group hug. Harry felt Ron's hand tentatively pat his back. "Good to know you've not been rotting in Malfoy's cellar, mate," Ron said. Hermione gasped and pulled away, smacking Ron on the chest.

"Ronald, that is not funny! I hadn't even thought of that!" she tittered. Smiling over the top of the girl's head, Ron winked at Harry. Ron, Harry noted, stood a little taller than he used to.

Harry smiled and shook his head in exasperation, causing Ron to grin as well. "Hermione," Harry said gently. "Calm down. I'm perfectly alright."

Hermione seemed to cool down immensely, though still keeping a close eye on her friend. Glancing about to see who would be their guard for the day, Hermione adopted a surprised look. "Harry, what on earth are Madame and Susan Bones doing with you?" she whispered. Ron, eyes going wide, looked over at Madame Bones.

Harry shrugged. "They were outside in the alley when McGonagall and I got there." Noticing how his friends were gaping at Madame Bones, Harry became extremely confused. "What's so astounding about Madame Bones? I told you she was at my hearing last year-"

"No, you didn't!" Hermione snapped.

"Harry," Ron said quietly, "Madame Bones never comes out in public, or at least, she doesn't associate very much. She's head of Magical Law Enforcement. It's a rather dangerous position."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione muttered. "Madame Bones is very powerful. When Voldemort was last around, she met him face-to-face. She escaped. Harry, your parents were with her. Voldemort left, of course, before they did. But they were nearly Avada'd."

"She's got a Chocolate Frog card," Ron said in awe. Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"Aunt Mia thinks that's the coolest thing, too." Ron and Hermione had the decency to look ashamed as they turned to Susan. The tips of Ron's ears were definitely red and Hermione was twisting her hands. Susan smiled at them. "Don't worry, lots of people are shocked to see Aunt Amelia. But she doesn't get recognized that much anymore. So I convinced her to bring me school shopping this year. Usually I go with one of my cousins."

"She's your aunt?" Hermione asked. "I knew she had to be related to you somehow─ I read about her in The Rise and the Fall of the Dark Arts. Then I hear your name at the sorting in first year. I never thought she would end up being your aunt though." Harry began reflexively tuning out Hermione's ranting. He smiled, watching her gesture animatedly with her hands. Ron, too, had a glazed look in his eyes. Susan, on the other hand, for all appearances, seemed to be genuinely interested in what Hermione was saying.

It went on this way, Harry and Ron nodding at the girls, pretending that they were listening, as Ron and Hermione led them all towards Gringotts. Harry glanced behind them, seeing McGonagall and Madame Bones following. By the looks on their faces, they were discussing something serious. Both conversations ended as the group entered the wizard's bank.

"Harry!" Bracing himself, Harry met Mrs. Weasley's hug calmly, much less surprised with her reaction than with Hermione's. Once released, Mr. Weasley approached him. Unsure, Harry waited for the man to move.

"We've missed you, Harry," Mr. Weasley said softly. He tugged the boy into a quick, one-armed hug, causing Harry to blush.

Fred and George popped up on either side of him, catching him between themselves. They proceeded to squeeze together, crushing Harry. "Dearing darlist!" Fred boomed, attracting a few eyes.

"Muffin cakes!" George added, pulling away. They finished off with each giving him a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

"Yes, George, that's attractive." Harry looked at the youngest Weasley, rolling her eyes at the twins.

"Excuse me!" George looked rather appalled. "Fred did it as well." Sighing, Ginny threw her hands in the air, pretending to be fed up. She smiled crookedly at Harry, giving him a brief hug, ignoring the kissing noises from her brother. But, Harry noticed as Charlie and Bill quickly gave him a squeeze, she stomped on their toes furiously as she walked over to Hermione, Ron, and Susan.

"Susan, we'd best go get some money from the vault," called Madame Bones.

"Of course, Aunt Mia, just a moment." Susan turned back to her fellow Hogwarts students. "It was nice talking with you Hermione. I'll be sure to get back to you with that book. See you soon!" She waved, walking quickly to catch up with her aunt, easily sliding her arm through the woman's and falling into stride with her.

"Well then!" Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands together. "Harry, why don't you and Professor McGonagall go retrieve some money from your vault. We'll wait with Hermione to exchange her money. What time are we meeting your parents, darling?"

Harry followed his professor and the goblin in front of her to the carts, moving out of the way for two goblins muttering together as they passed. Harry felt a little uneasy as the cart he and McGonagall were in screeched to a stop. Realizing they were at McGonagall's vault, he sat back in the cart, waiting for her to return. He did notice, though, that the contents of the vault made a shimmer on the opposite wall. In consequence, when he filled his money bag, he felt little unease with his professor's presence, knowing she had a fair bit of money herself.

It took a moment for Harry to adjust to the bright light once outside of Gringotts. As Mrs. Weasley spotted them and began the way to Flourish and Blotts, Harry noticed that the twins were gone. And he felt a tingle of excitement upon remembering that their shop was in Diagon Alley. He realized that they must have left the store to come and greet him.

Harry pulled out his book list, ready to find what he needed. It was then that he realized that Ron and Hermione would not be purchasing the same books as him; they would not be in his same classes. In a quick chain of thoughts, Harry became suddenly aware that he didn't know how they had done on their O.W.L.s.

"I got eight," Ron said. "Better than Fred and George, at least."

"So which classes are you taking?" asked Harry. He scratched his neck, hoping his itch would go away.

"Defense, obviously, my best exam thanks to you, and Charms; it was easier than the others, I suppose. I'm not sure if McGonagall will let me into Transfiguration. I only got acceptable on theory. Potions was a bit of a surprise. I got poor on practical, of course, but I got an acceptable on theory. There was a little not saying I nearly got an exceeds expectations. Obviously I'm buggering on that class." Hermione gave a disapproving noise at this. "Come on Hermione, you know he'd never even consider me. I'm sure he'll be in a right state at you getting in."

Harry smiled at Hermione knowingly. "And you Hermione? How did you do?" Harry was pleased to see her color slightly.

"Well, you know, I had to take more exams than you, so my total had a chance of being higher-"

"Just tell him, Hermione. We expected you to blow us all away. Merlin, Harry, she's refused to tell me until either the school year started or you showed up. It's been right annoying. I expect Ginny nicked her letter though, they were giggling and chatting all through supper that night." Ron rolled his eyes for effect.

"So, let's hear it then, Hermione," jested Harry.

She mumbled something so low and so fast that Ron demanded she repeat it. "Thirteen!" The clerk behind the counter gave her the evil eye as many shoppers turned to look at her. Flushing deeper, Hermione pulled the boys behind a few shelves. "I got thirteen O.W.L.s. Happy now, Ronald?"

Ron was simply staring at her, stunned. "Hermione, no one gets thirteen O.W.L.s!" Hermione sniffed.

"Madam Bones got thirteen," Hermione said loftily. "And so have others, Ron. It's not unheard of. Harry's Mum got twelve and so did Percy."

As Ron looked stricken, Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. Harry felt a sickening feeling take over him. "What happened with Percy?" Ron glowered.

"He hasn't said anything to most of us. Mum's not been to see him for a long time; I suspect she's had enough. But Dad ran into him a few weeks ago. Ginny overheard him talking to Mum about how Percy was a right prick to him. Gin said that Dad was going on about how Percy didn't even look him in the eye. He still thinks he's right," Ron hissed. Harry saw a glimmer in his eyes that he wasn't quite sure he liked.

Harry was sure to avoid the topic of Percy for the rest of the day. When the group split up, Harry hardly noticed McGonagall following them. They got through the rest of the day without incident. Some of their friends stopped to say hi, Neville Longbottom, the Creevey brothers, and Luna Lovegood among them. Fortunately, Harry didn't see Snape again, nor did they encounter Draco Malfoy, thanks to Ginny's warning as they passed each other outside of the quidditch store in the afternoon.

And so, as the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, and Professor McGonagall set out into muggle London after shopping, Harry felt quite satisfied that they had made excellent progress. Hermione, with a casual confidence the others weren't used to, led them through London, trekking through a few shady-looking streets. They reemerged on a bright, pleasant-looking street of office buildings, passing through a white door into 'Drs. Granger and Granger Dental Service.'

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione motioned for everyone to find a seat in the waiting room. The group took up nearly all of the chairs. There was only one patient there, a woman who looked small and flexible.

"Back here, Hermione!" called a woman's voice. "I'll be done in a moment, just finishing up Becca. Be a dear and fetch that husband of mine from our office. He's reading that blasted book you gave him." Hermione smiled, shaking her head.

"Ron, Harry, come on, I'll show you their office," Hermione said. Standing, the two boys followed their best friend back through a hallway to three plain wooden doors with silver nameplates on the front. They passed through the one labeled Granger and Granger.

A man with dark brown hair, nose dusted with light freckles, lay sprawled on the ground, reading a book with moving pictures. Harry thought he looked like leopard, eyes cat-like and sharp. He looked up quickly at them as they entered. A smile spread across his face, making him seem much gentler.

"Hullo, Daddy," Hermione said. "This is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, if you'll remember." He rolled his eyes in exasperation at his daughter.

"You realize that I never forget anything, correct?"

"Except for those times you go out to the car in your pajamas, right?" Mr. Granger looked at her indignantly.

"I," he said loftily, "am the father here. You need to learn some respect."

"Mum and the Weasleys are waiting," Hermione said, grinning and tugging Harry and Ron from the room with her. "Oh, and Professor McGonagall as well. She's Harry's guard."

It wasn't long before the entire group sat outside of a café a few streets over. Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat talking with the Weasley parents and McGonagall while Bill and Charlie told them stories about Egypt and Romania, which were more for Harry and Hermione than anyone else.

"The girls in Egypt are quite fascinating," Bill said casually. His hair, still long, was loosely braided today, giving him a more punk look than usual.

"Fleur would kill you," Ginny said sweetly.

"The French girls are even better," Bill said mannishly.

"Oh, honestly. Women aren't meat," Hermione snapped. "It's degrading." Bill, Charlie, and the twins exchanged laughter.

"You mean it would upset you if some boy were to be telling his friends that he thought you were as hot as dragon's fire?" Charlie asked. "Because you may want to have a chat with Krum. From what the twins said, he thought you were quite the number." Ron made a choking noise and Hermione went scarlet.

"Do you have a problem with that Ron? Am I truly so grotesque and masculine that you find it impossible for someone to think I'm pretty? Besides, Vikitor and I are friends and nothing more. We're talking about the twins. Who knows how they found out what he said, Charlie!"

"Excuse me," Fred interrupted. "We happened to get it straight from him."

"Yes, he wrote it in his journal," George added. "You know, it was remarkably clean on the Durmstrang ship." Hermione stared at them.

"You broke into the Durstrang ship." The twins grinned. The other boys were carefully trying to stifle their laughter at Hermione's tone. But she surprised them all with what she said next. "You must be pretty good at breaking defense charms then. After all, Kakaroff was a you-know-what."

Harry snorted. "Just because Kakaroff was with him doesn't mean he had any talent. It's sort of like a Dimu-" Harry stopped short.

"A what?" prodded Ron.

"Nevermind, just something the Dursleys would say," Harry muttered, waving his hand. Hermione and Ron looked at him suspiciously but he smiled sincerely.

After they had finished eating, they all headed back towards Grimmauld Place. At the corner, Hermione hugged her parents good-bye, saying she'd see them at King's Cross. With a wave to the Granger's, everyone trooped quietly into the house.

Looking around, Harry felt an odd mix of calm and horror. The surroundings were, unfortunately, just as dark and unwelcoming as before. But the familiarity was a comfort after months of being gone. Ron and Hermione immediately headed upstairs and Harry followed. They entered his and Ron's room, shutting the door behind them.

"Where had you been?" asked Hermione. Harry sighed, going to sink onto his bed. Only there was a large pile of letters and newspapers there. Flopping back on Ron's bed instead, his friends plopped down next to him.

"I can't honestly tell you," Harry said, staring at the ceiling. "But it feels like I've been gone forever."

"I know what you mean," Ron said.

"But Harry, you have know where you were!" Hermione cried. Harry pushed up on his elbows, looking at the two people that knew so many of his childhood secrets. So much had changed. They didn't know half of what he knew now. He couldn't help but feel anger at Voldemort surge through him, anger at himself.

"I didn't tell the Order," Harry said. Ron sighed.

"Harry, we understand that you're not too pleased with Dumbledore, for some unexplainable reason. You've been mad at him for a long time. And you can't tell something to the Order with out Dumbledore knowing," Hermione said earnestly.

Ron glared at his friend, grabbing a few letters from the bed and tossing them to Harry. "Read those."

Harry did so, looking guiltily at his friends when he had finished. Standing, he set the letters on his bed again and began pacing around the room.

"Look, mate, Hermione and I know you've been through hell. We want to try and help you as much as we can. But all you've done is yell at us. What are we supposed to do? Everyone's noticed it. You need to control your temper."

Harry whirled to face him in frustration. "Me! What about YOU! Ron, you've got the worst temper I know of!" Ron shrugged calmly at him.

"You've bottled your temper all of your life at the Dursleys. Now you've got so much that's its all coming out. Hermione and I are sick of being the ones you take it out on."

Harry opened his mouth to give a furious reply, but stopped, looking at the letters he had read. They had all said it. Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair.

"I-I'm sorry you guys. I just…. I dunno," Harry said, breathing out slowly. "I know you're just trying to help but with Voldemort and everything."

"Harry, that's just it," said Hermione, voice gentle. "We don't know anymore. You've stopped telling Ron and me this stuff. Why can't you let it out?"

Harry looked up, eyes showing his desperate hurt. "Merlin, I want to tell you. But I-I can't. It was so much easier, just when school had started, to talk about these things. I'd always wanted to. But now… now it's not quite so amazing. And everything is so much more important. I really don't mean to lose it on you. I really want you to know everything."

"So tell us," Hermione offered softly. Harry took a few deep breaths.

"Right then."

A loud crack sounded and Fred and George stood in the room as well. "Mum wants you all in the sitting room for Harry to open his presents."

"What presents?" asked Harry.

"Birthday presents," Ron said shortly. "We're coming. Just a moment."

"Now, Ron. Besides Harry's just yelling again." Harry blinked at George. He hadn't been loud at all. "We can sense the hostility in the air. Such negative charges."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "They'll never go away. We might as well go down." Shrugging, the two boys followed.

It was as good hour later and Harry was still opening gifts. The Order members were drifting in and out of the room, much as they had been when he began this odd ordeal. The elder Weasleys had gone off after he had opened their gifts: a small box with odd Egyptian inscriptions from Bill, a dragon scale from Charlie, a plain muggle shoebox with a label reading 'Dangerous Content Within' from Fred and George, a small hand-sewn blanket with an H in the middle from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a black braided bracelet with an anomalous green rock in the middle from Ginny, and an impressive album for a Chocolate Frog Card collection from Ron. Hermione had signed her name and her parents' names to a muggle portable CD player and a small stack of CDs that Ron was amusing himself and Hermione with.

Harry had been surprised to find gifts from Tonks, Moody, and other Order members. Most of them were candy or books on defense or Auror training. Apparently Harry's prospective career was now common knowledge. His roommates and other friends such as Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, the Creevey brothers and Luna Lovegood, who had never sent him gifts before, had sent him small knickknacks and such.

Harry leaned back and sighed, grabbing a small package wrapped in Gryffindor red and gold. "Why did so many people send presents this year?" Hermione looked up from her seat on the couch with Ron and Ginny, setting the CD she was holding down.

"Harry, tons of people were owling Ron and me with letters asking about where you were or saying how much they felt for us and other such nonsense." Ron gave her a look that Harry failed to understand but made Hermione blush slightly. "Well, okay, I was rather upset when I heard so their condolences weren't too crazy, but still. Don't you see Harry?"

"Er, not really."

"They sent you gifts because it was their way of showing they though you'd return," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at Hermione. "You should just tell him. He and Ron never know what you're going on about. Hell, I don't half the time, and I'm a girl."

"I beg your pardon!" Ron looked cross. "I knew what she meant. Harry was the one being thick." Harry sputtered indignantly. Ginny gave him a slightly dirty look, darling him to say it wasn't true.

"I'm not always thick," Harry muttered in defense.

Ginny smiled kindly. "Of course not, dear."

"I'm not!"

Harry, now being ignored by Ginny and laughed at by his best friends, muttered to himself about the indignity of it all as he tore the paper from the package he held. Frowning when he had gone through two more layers of paper, in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff colors no less, Harry faced Slytherin green and silver. "Is this some sort of magic?"

Hermione motioned for it and Harry quickly handed it off to her. After examining it carefully, Hermione announced her verdict. "No, there's nothing magical about it. It's muggle paper, not dancing patters or spelled layers. You'll just have to keep going."

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "No name." He pulled the layer off and a dark purple one after that, to finally reach a tan box. "Looks like some jewelry box."

"Open it, you lard," Ginny demanded, leaning closer.

"You've turned rather nasty, you know. I think I preferred the days when you didn't talk around me. A lot nicer, you were," Harry said, glaring at Ginny. She smiled innocently.

"I have no idea what you speak of."

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione said impatiently, eyes on the box. "It's just her time of the month, Harry." It took a moment for Harry to get what she meant, and he promptly went red. Ron gagged and pretended to throw up. "Boys! Just open it. I want to know what it is."

Harry hesitated. What would happen if it was cursed? He voiced his worries to his friends. "Oh, you don't need to worry. The Order checked all of your presents and letters and stuff when it arrived. It's not like they had to be on guard duty with you gone or anything."

Opening the box, Harry found a glimmering golden key settled in a sea of fluffy white cotton. Confused, Harry pulled it out and held it in the air, spying the number 921. "Er, Hermione, you know what this is?"

"I believe I can help you with that," came a voice from the doorway.