(A/N): I can't believe it took me this long to finally finish this chapter. I had over half of this chapter done the day I posted Chapter 2. I feel so bad. Well, after this chapter, it's going to be easy sleddin' for quite a few of the coming chapters. I have a lot in store for you all.

:Rectitude:

:Chapter Three:

:The Best Birthday:

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace at the Burrow. He still wasn't used to floo travel.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" came the thunderous call from the kitchen, startling Harry. He looked to the source of the noise and saw a multitude of people standing under a banner with the motif 'Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Harry' cycling through the library of colors while crawling like a news ticker. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; he was floored. He stood there, his mouth gaping open, taking in all the sights before him: the banner, all the people, the pile of presents in the corner, the large cake with sixteen magical candles billowing emerald green flames with the smoke spelling 'Happy Birthday' in a constant loop, and the smiles, the atmosphere, that's the thing that surprised Harry the most; he was home.

"Well don't just stand there, Harry, dear, let's get this celebration started," said Mrs. Weasley as she went over to Harry and gave him a welcoming embrace. Harry was still standing there, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to say something.

"Stop imitating a goldfish and come greet your friends, Harry, mate," said Fred and George in a mock duet style. This broke Harry out of his shock and he gave Mrs. Weasley and the twins a large smile. "That's more like it," said George as Fred gave Harry a friendly handshake.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," said a familiar voice from behind Harry. It was Ginny. She was wearing a strange robe, with a peridot encrusted on the right arm and a ruby on the left, giving it a strange sense of propriety. And now that he thought about it... everyone was wearing a robe identical to the one Ginny had.

"What's with the identical robes?" asked Harry, looking inquisitively at Hagrid, who looked extremely odd in a robe of this nature.

"To celebrate your birthday, Harry. We thought it would be a nice gesture to wear identical robes with a peridot on the right and a ruby on the left. The arms represent East and West, and the precious stones represent the months. Peridot is August, ruby is July. Thus, since your birthday is on the last of July, the month of July is considered a setting sun in the west, and the peridot signifies that you are near the beginning of August," said Dumbledore, who had just come up to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

The mention of the end of July brought back the memory of the Prophecy and its implications. Harry nodded sadly, while Dumbledore gave him a sympathetic look.

"It was Dumbledore's idea. I thought he was nutters, myself," said Ron, coming up from behind Ginny.

"Ronald!" came the indignant cry from Hermione who appeared from behind Dumbledore, "Professor Dumbledore is not nutters."

After this little exchange, Dumbledore began chuckling and told Ron and Hermione that it was okay. He said one could never be too normal. This caused Harry to have a mental snort as he thought about the Dursley's. While he was thinking this, Hermione came up to him and hugged him, and said, "Happy Birthday, Harry. You deserve this party."

To say Harry was shocked at the emotion in Hermione's voice, let alone the single tear that dropped from her eyes, would be an understatement. This increased his resolve to what he had to do. He'd have to talk about it with Ron and Hermione, though. That was the only way he could truly do this.

Did Harry think he was shocked? No, he was not shocked at all. This seemed like a normal occurrence in his not normal life. This shock paled in comparison to the one where Ron separated them from their hug, and gave Harry another. "Your my best friend, Harry," said Ron as he squeezed Harry more tightly, showing his friendship and loyalty in the simple gesture. Harry felt a momentous feeling come upon him that could only be described as massive elation. His mind was set free. He was not held accountable by his friends for the danger to their lives that Harry had shown them. He was not blamed for their endangerment. He felt like he was floating in pure joy. He was free. Free.

His eyes began to burn with the signs of tears. He was so happy. He could feel the love in the room for him, the sheer admiration of him by everyone. His tears began to flow; his eyes glistening brilliantly in the warming dusk light filtering through the windows nearby. The room quieted down as they looked at him. They seemed to sadden at his tears, thinking them to be tears of sadness, contrary to the feeling that was truly behind them.

"Thank you," said Harry as he looked around the room, his eyes still glistening with the light. "Thank you," he repeated. "You all have no idea how much this means to me... I--I've never had a birthday party before."

Mrs. Weasley gave a cry of sympathy and went back over to Harry and embraced him in a rib crushing hug as tears started collecting in her eyes.

"It was the least we could do, Harry, dear," sobbed Mrs. Weasley into Harry's shoulder.

"Arghh!" exclaimed the twins as they wore a look of disgust. "Stop with the mushy stuff! This is a birthday party!" they said, mainly at their mother.

"You guys're right. So, who's going to introduce me to the cake?" asked Harry as he wiped his joyful tears from his eyes, wearing a sincere smile of gratitude. The response was a room full of laugher and mutual smiles.

Harry couldn't remember a time when he was happier than how happy he was right now. He still felt amazing, even though this magnificent day was coming to an end. He had never thought it possible to be the center of everyone's attention and enjoy it. In fact, for the first time in his life, he relished the attention. He felt like he was part of something bigger than himself, and he had unexplainable, euphoric joy in that fact. He felt as if he was giving the others some semblance of hope and contentment as he conversed with them, laughed with them, played games with them, and sang songs with them. The gifts he received lightened his heart, and made him temporarily forget his grief.

Bill Weasley had given him a book titled 'Hieroglyphics and How To Read Them'. Charlie gave him a Hungarian Horntail tooth necklace.

Percy, who had apparently patched things up with his parents and the family, gave him a formal apology in letter form, and a striking platinum pen. Apparently the Ministry found pens to be more efficient in government work rather than quills. Percy had said that all Ministry issued pens had a golden M imbued on the north face of the pen. Harry's, however, had a golden H, then J, then finally a P vertically aligned, instead. Percy said he went directly to the maker of the pens and just mentioned Harry's name and the pen was ready the next hour.

The twins gave him a more... what would be an appropriate word? Satirical! That's it. They gave him a more satirical gift. That didn't dissuade the practicality of their gift, though. He thought back on that gift. They gave him an official looking certificate that read:

Weasley's WizardWheezes:

The progenitors of WWW, Fred and George Weasley, hereby grant Harry James Potter, first and foremost investor and friend of WWW, topmost immunity from all pranks, jokes, items, and any other item(s) to be produced in the lifetime of the aforementioned investor. Immunity commences when this certificate is signed by the involved parties.

Harry saw the signatures of Fred and George at the bottom, and swiftly took his new platinum pen and signed his own name under the twins'. After he let off the pressure of the pen from the parchment, the contract disappeared in a poof of purple-pink smoke, causing Harry to cough slightly. Then, a strange weight was felt in Harry's right pocket. He stuck his hand into his pocket, grasped the strange item inside, then removed the item. It was a small, rectangular granite stone, highly polished, with the impression 'Inprankable-L' in the two inch thick stone.

"This is going to be the most practical thing I'll ever have in my life," laughed Harry as he smiled brightly at the twins.

"Too true," chorused the twins, laughing along with Harry.

"What are you three going on about?" questioned Ron.

"Do you have any Canary Creams, Ron?" asked Harry in return.

"Yeah... Why?"

"Go get one," said Harry, smiling.

"Alright..." said Ron as he went up to his room to retrieve his own personal stash of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He returned shortly with a few innocent looking snacks and handed them to Harry.

"You're not going to eat those, are you?" asked Ron.

"Watch me!" said Harry, a silly smile on his face. Ron tried to stop him but it was too late and Harry was already chewing the Canary Cream.

"Harry! That's a real Canary Cream!" exclaimed Ron. Harry just stood there, a triumphant look on his face.

"Great gift, guys," laughed Harry as he watched Ron practically dust the floor with his drooping chin.

"But--but--but--bu-but," sputtered Ron, the intricacies of the event going over his head. The same couldn't be said for Hermione, however.

"That's--that's--that's incredibly brilliant," she said, trying to contain her own shock at how complicated something like this was.

"Why-"

"Thank-"

"You-"

"Her-"

"My-"

"Oh-"

"Knee," said the twins in quick succession, causing Hermione to glare at them both.

"What are you all talking about?" demanded Ron.

"Maybe when you're older, ickle Ronniekins!" said Fred.

This was the last straw for Ron, and his face lit up, fighting for the dominance of brightness with his hair. This caused the twins to start guffawing, and Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, who had caught on just then, to laugh heartily at Ron's dilemma.

Breaking himself out of the flashback, Harry took another look at the gift Ron had given him.

It was a beautifully crafted wooden block, ten inches wide, two inches long, and three inches high. The base had intricate carvings in the brilliant mahogany slab, depicting wind currents, and on one side of the upright face was a sly S dyed with silver, and the other side had a regal looking G but with gold dye instead. The inlays had three poles protruding upward on the outward sides, each pole adorned by a circular hoop: Quidditch goals. In the middle of the block were three spherical objects: two Bludgers, and a Quaffle in the middle. Then, Harry caught sight of a flicker of gold. A miniature Snitch had been enclosed into a magical field around the wooden block so that the Snitch couldn't escape. He watched as the small Snitch zoomed around the mock Quidditch pitch. He looked at the front face and smiled at the inscription. It was a score imbued in gold lettering that read, 'Slytherin: 0 Gryffindor: 1150'. On the bottom of the block, however, was a personal message for Harry.

Happy Birthday, Harry.
Always remember the laughter in life.
Always remember the love in life.
Always remember the sunrises.
Always remember the sunsets.
Never forget your memories of these things.
They're the guide rails on the road to happiness.
Ron

Harry didn't know when Ron was enlightened enough to say something so encouraging, but Harry thought it would be for the better. It might have been a realization brought on by the incident at the Ministry. Maybe he could ask him tomorrow...

Sighing about those thoughts, he took Ginny's gift to him out of his pocket. He smiled at the long parchment. It was a student petition for the continuance of the DA. It was signed by all of the DA members, and was followed by some of the teachers signatures. McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and lastly, Dumbledore's loopy scrawl. Harry didn't know if he would do the DA this year or not. He couldn't decide if it would be necessary anymore, with Umbridge gone from the school. Seeing this parchment made him reconsider his answer, though, and he thanked Ginny very much for the gift.

He looked down at Hagrid's gift. An ornate wood carving, painted delicately with various colors. The paint must have been magical because they kept oscillating between the two extremes of color. It was also very polished, giving it a sheen of an expensive object one would find at an antique shop. Harry grew rather fond of it quickly, and would keep it close to him in years to come.

Harry set Hagrid's gift down on his night stand and picked up an official looking parchment off of his trunk. It read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected as the new Gryffindor house Quidditch captain. Feel free to contact me with any questions you may have or with your declination of this captaincy. You will have some team spots to fill, so you must set a tryout date within a week of your arrival at school. All decisions you make for the team will be respected, unless there is reason to believe you have decided in a frivolous manner. Good luck with this coming endeavor. I'm sure you can lead the team to another victory.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

Harry simply beamed at the parchment, trying hard to contain his joy at the meaning behind the words. He was Quidditch captain! That meant his lifetime ban from Quidditch was null! He couldn't wait to go out on the pitch and fly on his Firebolt. It was one of the things Harry missed most when away from school, other than his friends.

Still smiling, he looked down toward the end of the bed where his trunk was currently lying. He looked at Dumbledore's gift again; it was a Pensieve, ornately decorated with numerous runes. It was a dull green color, and was currently empty. Harry thought it would be much more occupied by the end of the year. Dumbledore had also told him some wonderful news: Harry was to no longer be taught Occlumency by Snape, but Dumbledore. Harry nearly burst after that news. He was ecstatic that he wouldn't have to deal with Snape any more than necessary.

Hermione's gift was beautiful. She had given him a phoenix feather quill. He didn't even realize that a phoenix feather could be used as a quill. It was entrancing in its delicate beauty. The soft yet rigid edges of the feather, a deep crimson red, reminiscent of an enthralling sunset, surrounded the stunning red-yellow core, strikingly similar to a brilliant sunrise. It struck Harry as proper, seeing as how phoenix's represented death and rebirth. Like the sunset and sunrise, the phoenix fell with an effulgent diminishing, only to rise again from the dark ashes. The thought touched Harry, and he wasn't sure why.

Sighing at his thoughts, Harry set the feather down, taking one last glance at the brilliant colors. He'd have to thank Hermione for the gift. He'd have to thank everyone. It was all so much.

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was snoring loudly to a seemingly random rhythm. Harry took hold of his blanket and situated himself into a more comfortable sleeping position, giving him a strong sense of belonging at the same time. He closed his eyes while he felt the warmth of his body reverberate on the bed and come back to him in a reassuring way.

This was home.

End (A/N): I know this chapter probably seems like filler, but there are some things that will make a reappearance, and there are subtle... hints... to things that will be a major part of the climactic chapter. And by hints, I mean only I know what they are, and you'll only get it right by randomly guessing, since I gave no implications to anything. Until next time (which is soon!).