A/N:
I know it took a long time… sorry. I'll try to update more
regularly now.
Brynn
Chapter 5: Mr Weasley
He reappeared at the same time as Mr Weasley, standing next to him in the gym-like testing room. The wizard smiled at Harry and shook his hand.
"Wilkie looked happy. That means you passed," he enlightened the startled teen. "I wanted to be the first to congratulate you-"
"Eh, you overrun me, then, Art," came an amused, though maybe slightly disappointed response from the door. Twycross, with the merry smile constantly plastered on his face, wordlessly gestured them to a cosy square room next to the gym. White walls were littered with pictures of children and young people, most of them happily waving at the photographer. Despite being simple, it made an impression of joyful person decorating it.
Wilkie sat behind a desk, which was the largest piece of furniture there, and put down the parchment he had been carrying all along.
"Full score, Mr Potter! At your first attempt! Congratulation!" He, too, shook Harry's hand while waiting for some squirming figures on the parchment to organise themselves and come to a standstill. Then he fetched a new quill from a desk-drawer and signed it, passing both items to Harry and indicating a spot where he ought to sign.
"I only have a handful like that every year... Like your boys, Art, four of six on the first try! An exceptional family!" Mr Weasley laughed from behind Harry's back, as there wasn't enough space for him left in the tiny office. All tension was gone and forgotten.
"And what about your boys?" Wilkie's eyes shone.
"They're gorgeous, Art, you should come over and see them sometimes, and Molly as well. I swear they are twice as big as they were month ago!" Harry scribbled his name and handed the parchment back to Wilkie, who put it inside the orange envelope. It sealed itself and he rubber stamped the back side with gusto.
"So, Mr Potter - signed, sealed, imprinted and ready to be delivered. It's my great honour to be the second one to congratulate you to passing you Apparition test, as Art over there stole my ordinary first position." Harry found his hand being shaken again, but he didn't mind. He felt happy, happier than he had been ever since the beginning of the summer. He did something himself, without help. Something that made people around him happy. Such a thing happened rarely, and he cherished the feeling.
popopopopo
About ten minutes later, walking by Mr Weasley's side towards his office, Harry was still foolishly grinning. He was a legal adult, he could legally Apparate, he wasn't shut alone in the Library... It was a nice day so far.
"Harry..." Mr Weasley spoke for the first time since they left Wilkie Twycross's presence. "It probably isn't my place to tell you, but you are almost like a son to me..." Harry looked up curiously. What could irk the wizard so much? Why did it present such a trouble to speak straight to the point?
"I am terribly proud of you." Harry's eyes widened.
'That was it?' Obviously that was it, as the man didn't say anything more. He laughed.
Mr Weasley joined him, and neither of them felt like stopping before they reached their destination.
The room was empty, apart from few memos circling under the ceiling. It was very different from the office Mr Weasley had been sharing with the old warlock Perkins before he was promoted; it looked like a mixture of Aurors' mess and a block of precisely ordered archive. On the right side, next to a sink, stood a counter with a collection of random Muggle objects. A grey Muggle coat hung off the rack. It was long enough to sufficiently cover wizard's robe, should the need arise.
Mr Weasley slumped down into a roller chair and conjured a recliner for Harry under an old framed picture of the whole Weasley family. Ginny looked particularly cute there, sporting two braids with ribbons on their ends...
Harry's heart sunk.
"I have to leave. Emergency. Wait for me here, Harry," said Mr Weasley, looking up from one of the memos. "The toilet is the third door on the opposite side down this corridor, if you needed something else, don't hesitate to ask anyone. Oh, and-" he turned to a floor-to-ceiling case and raked inside for a while. He handed Harry a book. "To past time. Dumbledore told me to give this to you. Now, promise me you won't leave."
Harry looked up, a little irritated. Why did everyone think he would escape the moment he gets out of their sight? It was becoming slightly obnoxious.
"I won't," he said, willing himself to remain calm an not show his annoyance. Mr Weasley beamed at him.
"Thank you." With that he was out of the door.
popopopopo
The book was bound in leather, old, and obviously second-hand. It had no words or picture on the outside. Harry for a while contemplated whether it was a good idea to even open it. He didn't know what it could do. It could have screamed, bit, burn his eyes, or suck him in or, leastways, not let him read it...
'Dumbledore said I should get it. He wouldn't have if it was dangerous, would he?' That decided it. Harry set it down on the desk and slowly, carefully, turned over the front page.
It didn't scream nor bite nor suck him in. Generally it showed no sign of violence. The figures inside didn't move and no display indicated that it was anything but an ordinary book.
There was a title in smart black writing: Survivor's Book. It had been written by Vivax, though Harry had no doubt that was a pseudonym.
'Survivor's Book?' He wondered what subject could that refer to. By the look of it he would guess the Dark Arts or Defense Against the Dark Arts, and knowing that in was coming from Dumbledore only strengthened that theory. He flipped over to the next page and read.
1. First Aid - Basic Medical Potions
Harry blinked.
'Potions? No, thanks.' He didn't feel like reading about that subject. Though medical potions were featured in many books on duelling or Care of Magical Creatures he had read over the last month. He usually skipped that part.
2. Preparation
In my entire life I had encountered about fifty dark wizards, several of them repeatedly, and in less than five percent of those cases I expected it. Sure, with my job it was likely to meet many of them, but I tell you this: you can not know who is after you. One day you walk out of your house through the front door and as soon as you cross your wards you will have a curse cast in your direction.
If you are serious about living long, you must accept the fact that dark wizards are frequent, dangerous and unpredictable. Therefore, before you walk out into the wild, make sure you have a vial of each of these potions-
Harry looked up from the book. This was getting... suspicious.
'Two chapters on potions in the row? What kind of book is this?' Significantly cheesed off, he ruffled through the pages.
3. Antidotes
He turned the book over and looked at the last heading.
33. Felix Felicis - When Everything Else Fails
"He sent me a book about potions?" Harry groaned. He didn't have the smallest bit of liking for the subject. He wouldn't read a page about it if he didn't have to for lessons. It was the last direction he would go in his self-study. But.
He had to sit there. Alone. For Merlin didn't know how long, presumably several hours. He had nothing better to do - correction, he had nothing else to do. Surely a book on potions was better than no book? And, after all, maybe he would learn something and please Slughorn, when the man so stubbornly failed to see that Harry wasn't a little mind with natural talent for throwing things into cauldrons.
With another heartfelt sigh he flipped back to the first chapter and started reading.
popopopopo
When Mr Weasley entered the office again it was five in the afternoon, Harry had eaten nothing since breakfast, but managed to get to the middle of the seventeenth chapter. He checked the number of the page and shut it, without giving it a second look.
"What a day! I didn't know where to go first and then- ah, sorry, Harry, I really didn't make it sooner. You must be bored... Have you had lunch?" Harry shrunk the book and deposited it in his pocket, determined to return to it.
'Dumbledore's dead and still one Hell of a manipulator! He tricked me into reading about potions and made me damn enjoy it!' It was hard to believe, and he would be the first to scoff himself, but that text was interesting... no, rather enthralling. It was brilliant. Genius. Written a way that was both fascinating and easily comprehensible - so easily, that from fifth to eighth chapter he finally understood first four of Golpalott's Laws (which not even Hermione managed to elucidate to him).
"It's been alright. I've had something to read and... I was not really hungry," he said quietly and reluctantly moved his mind away from the Perenelle's Draught of Invisibility. From what the author claimed, there was a potion substitute to every vital spell. Sure, it did sound as a complete and utter balderdash, but in those sixteen and half chapter he almost proved it!
"You should have got something, Harry. It's not healthy to skip meals... Oh, the right man talks - I'm starving! And Remus says that Fawkes is waiting for you in the HQ, so how about you come over for dinner? Molly's cooking."
Harry's heart jumped. His eyes virtually radiated excitement.
'Sure, it is not like meeting Ron and Hermione and Ginny, but it will be wonderful!' If he had thought about it and not only rejoiced, he probably would have had realised that if there were going to dine both Molly and Arthur Weasley, their children wouldn't be far.
popopopopo
Harry wanted to make it a memory - his first legal independent Apparition. But he didn't have the chance.
He arrived in the hall with the obligate crack, too late realising he should have chosen another room because of the portrait of Sirius's mother. He braced himself for the coming screech.
Silence.
He looked up at the wall. The moth-eaten curtains were gone and the painting was replaced with a new one, still smelling of oil-paint. It was currently empty, but for a broomstick, propped against a large box. During the year he hadn't come here, somebody managed to finally get rid of the obnoxious dark witch.
He sighed with relief. Mr Weasley was nowhere near; he must have Apparated into another room, probably the kitchen. Harry set out down the adjacent corridor, lighting candles on tall twisted candlesticks modelled from some dark metal, by cracking his fingers. It was a bit of wordless magic he had learnt while practising for DADA during the last year, though it was good for nothing but making impression.
'Didn't Mr Weasley say Remus and Ron's mum were here?' The soundlessness in the house was creepy. His look swayed to the side and he found that the same person who did away with the portrait in the hall disposed of the heads of house-elves. It definitely was an improvement, but right now Harry didn't pay it much thought. He should have heard something. The building usually echoed with the smallest noises being carried along passageways... He shuddered.
'Fawkes?'
No reply. That was bad. Very, very bad. If Fawkes didn't respond, he must have been far away. Mr Weasley wouldn't have lied, nor would Remus. Fawkes had been waiting for him there, surely. Only something made him leave...
'Has there been an attack?' Harry drew a sharp breath and slowed down. What would he give to have the Invisibility Cloak now! But he didn't bring it; he didn't even know he would be leaving Hogwarts today. He couldn't guess...
'Had Voldemort finally found the location... the Fidelius Charm ceded working after Dumbledore died? They couldn't have overlook this, could they?' The gloomy corridor filled with his dancing shadows, each a feat of one of the candles he lit. The door to the kitchen stood slightly ajar, a narrow strip of light coming out of it and spilling on the carpet. He crept closer, carefully, without a sound and pushed it open.
White flash blinded him and an extreme noise erupted; Harry though 'Protego' and a bubble of blue light surrounded him. He wished he had been able to see to confirm that there wasn't a stampede tumbling at him and somebody called "Surprise!"
"Mione?" Harry asked, desperately wishing for his sight to come back. It did, slowly, gradually, and in the meantime he felt hands, patting him.
"Happy birthday, mate!" yelled somebody to his right and he saw a blur of red and blue coming to him.
"Ron?" Harry squinted. Yes, it was his friend, as freckled as ever, sunburnt, but grinning madly. The room slowly came into focus and Harry gaped, while laughing and crying Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'm so glad to see you; we were so worried-" Harry's mind was numb. He stood there, dumbstruck, while what seemed like half of the Order of the Phoenix - but in fact was only the part he considered 'family' - rotated past him and shook his hand or hugged him, depending on who was the person currently in front of him. Molly Weasley planted a wet kiss on his face.
When the stream of happy people subsided Harry finally started catching on. One thing was clear - the Headquarters definitely hadn't been overrun by Death Eaters.
"What's going on?" he asked uncertainly of beaming Hermione, who seemed to organise the chaos.
"A surprise party for you, of course! You didn't think we would forget about your birthday, did you? Even though it is a bit late…" And she rushed off to the back of the room to look after some multicoloured pile of... Harry wasn't sure what.
"It was Mione's idea," Ron remarked, skimming the crowd as though trying to find a familiar face. "She said it's a Muggle tradition... I don't know about that, but she said it in front of dad and you know what is he like, bugged mum so long until she gave up." Harry looked around. Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley were sitting around the table, which bent over the weight of food, while Fleur chatted animatedly with Remus, who tried to escape her. Tonks scowled at them but eventually caught Harry's eyes and smirked. He forced himself to grin back. Something was missing.
"Where's Ginny?" he asked under his breath. Ron, surprised, looked around.
"Dunno, mate. She's been here just now... probably went to the bathroom?"
"Yeah. Probably," Harry muttered and his heart sank almost faster than it had arisen. He feared the reason was a completely different one. Ron shrugged, as though to brush the matter off.
"Look, she'll be back in a minute... They-" he pointed and the table, "-are waiting for you to unwrap presents..." There was something awkward in Ron's voice. He was trying to hide something... But being the centre of all attention in the room, Harry decided to leave the matter for later.
Ron grabbed his sleeve and dragged him to Hermione, muttering about 'crazy girls with dangerous ideas'. Harry was really scared back there for a while, but wouldn't call the idea of a surprise party 'dangerous' anyway. But he was much too glad to be with his friends to object.
"Wotcher." Tonks had abandoned her seat and, nose high up in the air, long platinum hair (that looked glaringly like Fleur's) falling down her back, had come to meet him. When she reached him she winked conspiratorially and took his free arm. He flashed her a lugubrious glance.
"Er, Tonks... Is... I mean, you and Remus..." she grinned after making sure Lupin was looking other way.
"Everything's best Harry. I don't worry about Phlegm, if that's what you've been so politely trying to suggest."
"Ah, right," Harry said, fighting not to blush or otherwise indicate he was ashamed. In an odd way he wished Fawkes had really been there... But it was healthy to be left on his own for a while.
"By chance I know that they are discussing 'Bill's little problem', as Remus refers to it, and that he doesn't enjoy it a bit..." Her grin widened almost unnaturally, exposing two rows of perfect teeth. She steered him next to Hermione, who meanwhile managed to get hold of Ron, though by far not as modestly as Tonks had had of him. He blinked and looked away.
'Maybe Ron overdrew the 'training' with Lavender... I would have thought Hermione would moderate him a bit.'
"I'd like to have a small talk with you, Harry... Not now, later. Tomorrow, perhaps," Tonks whispered in his ear. Obviously she wasn't keen on widening the subject too much. But he had a little hope he would be allowed to stay so long... This way he already lost a day. Fawkes would be fuming.
He leered inwardly. Making Fawkes fume might have been worth it...
"About what?" he whispered back. "Could you come and see me at Hogwarts?" She nodded, ignoring the first question.
'Whatever. I'm going to find out tomorrow anyway.'
"Oh, good evening, Mr Potter!" sounded a mocking voice from behind him.
"Why, it's such a pleasure to see you with a lady, but save the sweet words for later-"
"-and don't let your audience wait." If the twins were bored it was the highest time to make something happen. Harry didn't feel like becoming the target of their next prank.
"Jump to it, man!"
"Accept the expressions of our utmost love!" Two hands roughly nudged him towards the medley pile of what he now recognised as a collection of brightly wrapped presents. The amount reminded of Dudley. Harry staggered and kneeled down on the floor. It was pleasantly cool in the heat of the August day.
popopopopo
It was a mystery to him why did they find it so interesting, but everyone in the room seemed to be watching him as he unwrapped the curiously-shaped packages, eager to see his reactions and wondering what have the others brought for him.
Apart from a variety of W.W.W. products he was given a plain-looking Hogwarts school robe complete with gloves and hat, though as Harry now knew what to search for he noticed it had a series of enchantments on it (obviously it originated in the back of the twins' store) and a bag of sweets. Hermione, to his amazement, bought him a Weight-Lifting Expandable Back-pack, but avoided him every time he tried to inquire about how did she come to such a idea. From Fleur he got a book about kitchen-charms, which earned him amused glances from all around the room and a howl of laughter from Ron, but the red-head abruptly shut up, hearing Harry mutter the words 'my sweetheart'.
The greatest surprise, though, was mouth-organ. He had no idea who it was from, but it must have been someone with Muggle relations, because it wasn't known in the wizarding society... At first he suspected Mr Weasley, but the perplexed expression on his face showed he had absolutely no clue what the weird metallic object might have been used for.
When all of the visitors felt that they had spent enough time admiring Harry's presents, they all settled at the table. It had to be magically stretched, together with the entire kitchen, so that all of them squeezed. The 'dinner', as Mr Weasley had referred to it, though it seemed more like a banquet to Harry, consisted of four courses plus the desert, with a choice of various dishes. When he finished his piece of cake (it was chocolate with almonds on the top - exquisite) he wasn't sure he would be able to move again that evening, not to mention return to Hogwarts. Lupin finally freed himself of both Fleur and Tonks and sneaked over to Harry.
"Cheerio, young man. Haven't seen you in a long time. You've changed." said the wizard, giving Harry an odd look.
"Yeah. I've just eaten more than Crabbe and Goyle together... 's bound to change one a bit..." the boy replied, leaning back and wishing that his stomach would manage to get over the cruelty. It didn't seem so at the moment.
"So... Isn't Dumbledore torturing you?" Harry shook his head.
"Nah. He's been teaching me some cool stuff... Well, more like talking to me about it. Is all he can do now - perceive, think, talk. But he's a lot better fellow..." he stated with obvious irony. "I haven't heard from you lately." Lupin didn't send him a single letter since the start of the holiday.
"Been busy..." muttered the man, throwing a quick glance at the witch with the platinum mane of now curly hair. Harry chuckled.
"Is good to see you two together. And Ron and Mione..." Something clutched his heart and he was suddenly painfully aware of both Ginny's absence and the fact that she didn't even send him anything. A short note would have been fine. She was silent.
"May I enter the private gander-party?" asked a male voice from Harry's other side.
"Sure, Bill. Take a seat-"
"Maybe we could have more privacy somewhere else? This place is overcrowded."
Harry personally thought that was a great idea. He chanced standing up, followed by Remus, and was glad to see he managed to walk to the lounge, where the three of them slumped down into the silken armchairs.
"Thanks for the rescue, gents. I was afraid I won't get out of there for the whole evening..." Bill sighed and conjured a glass of wine for himself. Harry and Remus glared at him. He laughed and acquiesced to materialise two more glasses. Remus took his in a dignified way and took a sip.
"Not bad, Mr Weasley... So, may I ask what exactly have we saved you from? It didn't accidentally have anything to do with a pair of young blonde witches-"
"-absorbed in a girly talk? What made you think that, dear friend?" Bill theatrically raised an eyebrow and sent Harry into a choking fit, which resulted in him spilling the wine all over himself. Fawkes would have pecked his fingers off... He waved his wand and cleaned his clothes, but half of the liquid was sadly lost.
"Alright, I concede, it was Fleur and Tonks. But mum was on the way to join them and can you imagine..." This time Harry managed to laugh without spilling any of the contents of his glass.
"Such are the galls of the married man..."
Harry blinked. He had forgotten...
"I've missed your wedding?" Bill nodded, saddened. "I'm sorry... I really wanted to go."
"Yeah, we really wanted you to come. I've asked Dumbledore, but he said that you couldn't." He shrugged. "But it's not like you've missed much-"
"But Mrs Weasley in the wedding dress," interrupted Lupin. "Tonks refused to talk to me for the rest of the night." Bill laughed, not without a trace of vanity. The scars on his face made it seem a bit sinister.
"But it's not like you've been the only one ogling her. I've seen Hermione gave Ron a rather painful punch - Harry, you really ought to let her spend more time with other girls! What kind of lass punches a man?"
"Our Mione," replied Harry proudly. Not that he had any merit in that, but she was his friend. Then he sneered mischievously. "So, the turtle-doves had a fight about the bride? And I missed that?" Bill faked a sorrowful expression.
"It was nasty, Harry. Poor Ronald had to mend his broken heart... Glued it with a bottle of Old Ogden's. Or two."
Lupin disapprovingly shook his head.
"You didn't have to see that, Harry, trust me. He spent the next day in bed, though he looked so pitiful that Hermione eventually had mercy and made up with him."
Harry did trust him. He had once seen Ron spit slugs, and it would last his for the rest of his life, without further unpleasant sights...
His stomach seemed to take that mental image as the sign to turn over and Harry ran out to the bathroom, leaving two very bewildered men behind.
