Chapter 4

The Birthday

Not mine. Back, ye lawyers! Back! I wield my silver cross and garlic at you!

Thank-you to Velvet- Green, Labrat-Speedy and Cooldot for their kind reviews!

Harry woke to his sixteenth birthday in a nervous frame of mind. He had no idea as to why he might be feeling particularly tense this early July morning. Well, okay, except for the Death-Eaters trying to kill him, Order members spying on him, seemingly from every nook and cranny in the street and…he forced the thought away but it crept in under his defences anyway- Sirius was gone. Had been gone for almost three months now.

He flopped back onto the bed and let the miserable thoughts wash over him- it wasn't like he'd ever been successful keeping them away. But, as usual, the thoughts came tempered by anger. Confused and undirected anger at the moment, but anger all the same. Anger at himself most of all- it was his fault, no matter how many times people told him it wasn't. Anger at the headmaster who'd always let him in on the snippets of information- feeding him what he thought Harry needed to know, not trusting him with the full story. If he had- he he'd known the link could be used in such a way…if he'd known! You'd have screwed it up anyway…. a nasty little voice told him. It sounded like a mix between his Aunt Petunia and Professor Snape. He shuddered in mild revulsion at the idea. There are some things of which no man should wot. And that notion was -he swallowed his nausea- definitely one of them.

Weren't we having a pity party for ourselves then, Potter? came the irritating voice again as he succeeded in steering away from the irrelevant thoughts, but this time Harry was ready for it. Yes, he'd made mistakes. Yes, unfortunately, he hadn't been the one to pay for them- Sirius had. But, no! He wasn't entirely responsible. Many people bore part- blame. Dumbledore, Snape; for his childish mocking, Kreacher (here his fists clenched of their own will) and, though it had taken him this long to accept it, even Sirius himself. It had finally taken his old DADA teacher, Remus Lupin, to make him see past the soul-sucking guilt. Sirius was brave, rash and impulsive. But he was an adult. He shouldn't have responded to Snape's adolescent prodding.

Sometimes, it seemed to Harry, no-one involved in this whole mess was mature enough to run a sweetstore, let alone a last-ditch bastion of the forces of Light.

His aunt's voice howled up the stairs at him and he winced. Did she have to do that? But his legs swung out of the narrow cot-affair and the rest of him followed. Downstairs, unpleasantness lay, so he might as well make the most of his few minutes of freedom.

Downstairs, unpleasantness did indeed lie. Or sit, anyway, in the form of his relatives. As they scowled at or ignored him, as their personalities dictated, he again briefly wondered exactly whom had he pissed off so in his last life that so many people seemed to have it in for him in this one.

"Good morning." he forced himself to mutter. Good manners had been drilled into him. Pity they had never been drilled into Dudley, or that his Aunt and Uncle couldn't practise what they preached.

"It is. Aunt Marge is coming to stay." Aunt Petunia delivered this bit of news with her lemon-juice mouth screwed up even tighter then usual, each word delivered like a bullet. Oh goody. But at least it looked like someone else shared Harry's opinion of the obnoxious woman. Or maybe it was Ripper Aunt Petunia wasn't too fond of. He could sympathise with that feeling!

"Right", he muttered again, feeling that some response should be made. But no amount of politeness could force even a smidgen of fake joy into his tone.

"Mind your manners!" barked Uncle Vernon, rising from behind the newspaper like a vengeful, fat and ugly Aphrodite from her shell.

Aphrodite in a mid-life crisis, perhaps..

'Aphrodite' glanced at Harry and then at the calendar.

"Petunia, pet. It's Friday today, isn't?" he managed, the beginnings of a smile forming beneath the florid moustache.

"It is", she replied, lips curling.

"Dudley, my lad", boomed Vernon expansively, putting down his paper. "Today's your lucky day!" Harry suddenly felt like this was not going to be good news for him.

"Why's that, Dad?" asked Dudley, his piggy eyes looking even more gormless then usual. He was taking up an entire side of the table by himself and threatening to invade the side that his father generally sat at. He would probably find that a losing battle, Harry mused idly; Uncle Vernon was as big as his son.

"Today, you get back your bedroom!" Harry's eyebrows shot up- he wasn't allowed forget that he was here entirely on the noble sufferance of the innocent Dursleys, nor that he took up what was Dudley's by right. So where was he going?

"Boy." Now Vernon and Dudley both were staring at him with identical piggy eyes. The effect was somewhat disturbing. "It is your birthday today. Sixteen, yes?" Harry nodded slowly, already half-seeing where this was going. "That means you are now of age and no longer our ward. Now get out. Join your freaky friends, I don't care. Only get OUT and leave US alone!"

Harry glanced at Aunt Petunia, not really expecting any help, if anything, mildly surprised she hadn't said anything. She was washing dishes mechanically but seemed to sense his glance.

"Leave, Harry", she finally said quietly.

He left the kitchen, turning on his heel and going upstairs in a daze. Quickly he packed his meagre Muggle belongings and then his Wizarding things- school stuff, for the most part. It took no more then a few minutes. He pulled up the floorboard that had been his helper and ally for almost five years now and took out his birthday presents from his friends. Hermione's- a book, of course- but this one looked pretty cool, and would be a huge help if the DA was continued this year. Ron's family had sent a package and Ron and Ginny had sent a present each as well. Hagrid had sent some of his famous rock- cakes, which Harry could use in the event of starvation. Or a siege. They'd would work quite well in a trebuchet.

"Hedwig- this is it. We're out of here!" he whispered to the snowy owl who looked at him disapprovingly. "Oh, don't look at me like that- it's really not my choice this time. I'm sixteen; of age- they've thrown us out." The owl's sharp yellow stare softened a bit and she hooted gently. Harry took one more glance around the room that at different times had been a refuge and a prison. The he spun and walked out, face expressionless as he confronted his Uncle.

"Got all your…stuff?" finished his uncle, glaring unpleasantly at Harry. Harry nodded stiffly and hauled his trunk down the stairs to the front door. He stopped just in front of it and turned to face his 'family'. There was one last thing to do…

"Thank-you for the house-room", he said mockingly. His Uncle swelled up, looking rather like he was about to blow. Harry stared at him coolly, suddenly no longer afraid in the least of the large man. He kept eye contact with Vernon as he continued, wand in hand now.

"For fifteen years, you have been my 'guardians'. You didn't want it. Well, neither did I. I lived in a cupboard for ten years! You locked me in for a good portion of that. You only let me have a room out of fear of my friends. You constantly belittled me, humiliated me and showed me nothing but hatred and contempt. There is a word for all that, even leaving aside the bars on the windows and the malnourishment in the summer after first year- it's called 'child-abuse' and imagine what your precious neighbours would say about that?"

He took a certain amount of pleasure in the way his Aunt's eyes flickered fearfully to the curtains as if hordes of neighbours were listening from behind the drapes and taking notes. He continued.

"What else? You encouraged Dudley to follow your example." Here he let his eyes wander across the rest of his 'family'. "And can I say, you've abused him almost as much as me by spoiling him", he added almost offhandedly. Here Vernon growled and seemed almost ready to pounce but was having trouble moving. Harry raised the wand in warning. "You told me lies about my parents, tried to make me believe they were worthless- your own sister, Aunt Petunia! When in fact they died fighting one of the evilest people who have ever existed. You are bigots and racists of the worst sort and I am as relieved as you that I'm finished here. Thank-you again for the house room."

With that, and silently congratulating himself on the speech he had been mentally composing for about ten years now, Harry opened the door and stepped out into the early morning air. Hedwig flew out over his head before coming back to settle on his shoulder.

He petted her with a shaking hand.

"Well, that's that, girl." he murmured. "Although, I'm glad I got the last word for once!"

He walked towards the gate with his trunk, moving as silently as possible, keeping a sharp eye out of danger. It felt a bit silly, almost, on the bright July morning to be looking out for agents of the Dark but he'd lived too long in it's shadow to ever feel safe. He wasn't sure he'd ever known the meaning of the word.

"Now, where are the Aurors?" he asked Hedwig. "I know for a fact there's always at least one lurking around here. What do you think, girl?" Hedwig didn't seem inclined to offer a response so he sat on the wall for a moment, while he tried to decide what the best course of action was.

"Wotcher, Harry!" came a rather surprised sounding voice behind him. He smiled with a certain amount of relief. Tonks. He half- turned. From behind the wall, a hedge appeared to be addressing him. His eyes managed to pick out the green hair pretending to be leaves and his eyebrows went up slightly.

"Like the new look, Tonks." he said. "Next big thing?"

"All the rage in fashionable London." she joked back before her hair changed to neon blue and she stepped out of the undergrowth with a frown.

"You're not supposed to be out here." she began, before spotting the case at his feet. Her eyebrows shot up and she half-opened her mouth.

"Not my idea this time." he said laconically. "Sixteen, no legal obligation, thrown out."

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes glinted furiously but she didn't say anything.

"Come on Harry- let's get you to HQ." she said rather more gently. "It's…"

"…not safe out here, I know," he finished rather coolly. He knew it was unfair but he couldn't help but take some of his anger out on the nearest Order representative. He had been kept in the dark all summer, apart from oddly worded letters every once in a while, as if Ron, Ginny and Hermione were having to be very careful in what they wrote. He was also rather unfairly blaming them for being able to be together in Grimmauld Place while he was stuck in that hellhole with the Dursleys. Although…Grimmauld Place…did he really want to be there? It was Sirius' home. And now it's owner was dead. He suddenly realised he really didn't want to go there. He was overcome by a wave of sudden panic. Harry wondered for a crazy instant if he couldn't run back into No. 4 and beg to be allowed stay for another few weeks. That thought was quashed instantly.

"I'm sorry, Harry." said Tonks, correctly guessing at his thoughts. "But that's the only place that's safe now. We don't know if the Burrow's been compromised and with …this place…" Here she threw a filthy look at the window of the house in question. Harry followed her gaze and saw a curtain swaying slightly.

"Just…is that…Kreacher still there?" he asked, the intensity of his voice surprising even him. But he couldn't look at that, that elf- if he did, he might well be tempted to strangle him.

"No, Harry." she replied. "He, well, he died. Not long after…well… His guilt at betraying a member of his House, his age, the fact that… Sirius, the last true Black, was dead…" She shrugged. "Heart-attack, we think. He's dead."

Harry nodded slowly. He looked at the face of his normally cheerful friend and was struck again that Tonks and Sirius had been related.

"Are you doing alright?" he asked her, realising he hadn't yet.

"Yeah, I'm doing alright." she lied. "Come on, we have to go. Here." She presented him with a sock. "Operating word's 'Sanctus'. I'll follow on in a minute." From the way she was gripping her wand and scowling, Harry could guess what she might be doing for the next minute.

"Don't do anything…too permanent." he joked. "Think of the neighbours." The joke finished on a rather bitter tone. Embarrassed, he gripped the sock (one of Dumbledore's notions, no doubt), and muttered Sanctus with his cheeks rather pinker then normal.

Tonks watched him go with well- hidden pity which turned to malevolent fury as she turned her gaze onto the innocent-looking house in front of her. She'd always been rather fond of Harry and was prepared to take a lot of quite inventive revenge on the people who'd hurt him, who'd cared more about the neighbours opinion then their ward.

Damn them.

She advanced on the house.

Harry arrived sick to his stomach. He'd never been too fond of Portkey travelling, and the events of the Triwizard tournament had made this form of travel particularly abhorrent.

He looked up when he'd stopped spinning and took in the surroundings, both so familiar and so different, and promptly threw up.

Poor Harry. Rather happier with this chapter then with No. 2. But next up is Percy and we'll see what he's up to in the bleak mid summer!

Oh, and I'm not sure yet whether to show Tonks' 'inventive revenge' against the Dursley's- d'ye want to know or will I leave it to your imaginations?

Next chapter!

The Meeting

Thomas- he had finally introduced himself- had appeared late one May night and asked if Percy would be so kind as to visit a certain pub in Muggle London at nine o'clock on Friday to talk with the Preceptor of the Knights. Percy was no fool, however. Thomas had shown himself to be ruthless in his dealings and Percy wasn't so sure that he might be seen as an obstacle- a wild card, who knew about them but was not fully loyal to them. He wasn't so sure that if he walked into that pub with no preparations he would walk out again.

It was becoming easier and easier to just disappear lately.

And Merry Christmas! (Except to the characters in this fic- I'm having too much fun traumatising them! Mwahahaha…ahem…)

Please please (shameless begging here) review! Tis the season an' all... (big puppy-dog eyes)

AZ