It was quarter to ten… Snape wasn't back yet. Harry was starting to get fidgety. It wasn't that he was eager to start studying… but it wasn't like Snape to be late. Had something happened to him? Snape had mentioned that the few Deatheaters out there might come after them.
"Mate… can you stop bouncing your knee?" Ron said in frustration. "You're like a five year old." Ron grumbled, putting a card on the pile of exploding snap the redhead children were playing together. Harry decided to stay out of the game since he had expected Snape over any second now.
"Like you? When you were taken to the sisters for your blessings and cried like a baby when mom and dad turned up ten minutes late to pick you up?" Fred teased. Both Harry and Ron's cheeks brightened
"I-I was six! Harry's turning sixteen this month!" Ron defended himself.
Harry was taken back slightly. He'd forgotten that his birthday was soon. Would… Snape celebrate it with him? The thought that he would finally have a parent preparing and celebrating his birthday with him made him feel warm. But his upbringing made him feel unworthy. Unworthy of celebrating his birth. Unworthy of celebrating any shred of his accomplishments. It was presumptuous of him.
Why should his birthday be celebrated anyway? He wasn't anything special. He didn't need a party, or cake, or a congratulations from anyone. It always made him uncomfortable when he had been given things. The first Christmas he celebrated on his first year at Hogwarts didn't count since he'd been in a daze from his change of life.
Maybe he should tell Snape ahead of time that he didn't need a birthday party. But first Snape had to come and pick him up.
"I'm just worried… Snape is never late." Harry said and looked back out the window, his knee bobbing up and down impatiently.
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Severus sighed as he looked over the things he had to revise with Potter. There was a limited number of days for his O.W.L.s… he couldn't help the little streak of competitiveness that coursed through him. He wanted the boy to prove he could be better than the other snot-nosed miscreants that shared the year with him.
He looked at the clock on the wall and got an odd feeling at the pit of his stomach. The clock had stopped ticking. He looked around at the other muggle appliances in the house. They'd all seemed frozen, as if an unseen wave was freezing them in time.
He felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. He reached for his wand.
A deafening explosion burst through the entire house. He was thrown hard in a direction. He couldn't pinpoint where he'd ended up. He simply felt his body hit everything it came across with a blinding force. One was a blow to the head. The raging destruction vanished from his consciousness. Everything became deadly quiet.
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"You don't think a Deatheater got to him do you?" Ron often spoke without thinking. This time was no exception. His friend looked up confused at the silence that followed his words and flinched looking around confused and a little frightened as everyone was glaring at him and had stopped their game. "What?"
Harry looked at him in shock, mouth open, unable to formulate a response to the other's thoughtlessness. He looked at the watch again. It was ten.
"I'm going to borrow your Charms book." Harry mumbled and went to Ron's room to get it. He heard the sound of a smack and Ron's exclamation of pain and the argument that followed.
What could be taking Snape so long?
He caught the glimpse of approaching figures moving through the tall grass on the surrounding field. His breath caught a little in his throat. He dropped the book and ran back downstairs. He was sure he flew down a couple.
"Deatheaters!" Harry called. Molly and Arthur glanced at each other for the briefest of seconds before standing with their wands drawn. The Weasley children stood too, all taking out their wands.
"Everyone, stay away from the doors and windows!" Mr. Weasley called out.
Harry's heart beat hard in his chest as he looked at the friends he was endangering by being here. "M-mrs. Weasley. What kind of wards does the burrow have?" Harry asked.
"They're basic at beast." George answered. "They won't resist for long."
"Or to a strong enough spell." Fred finished.
Harry moved back slightly, hitting the central column of the house that stretched to the very roof. He looked at it and his brain began ticking. The house shook a little as a loud boom hit the side of the house. Dust trickled down over their heads.
What could he do? There was something… blood magic. Dark magic. He looked to the kitchen. He didn't think twice about it. He ran to it.
"Harry!" Ginny cried out.
"Harry stay in the centre!" Mrs. Weasley cried out. Harry reached for the nearest knife he found and ran back to the central column.
"Sorry about this Mrs. Weasley." Harry said and carved runes quickly onto the pole.
"What are you doing Harry? Runes are useless." Ginny exclaimed.
"Where did you even learn runes?" Ron asked.
Runes were useless in battle. They were a tool of divination… on their own that is. He brought the knife to the palm of his hand and made a quick cut.
"Harry don't!" Mr. Weasley cried out.
BOOM! The house shook again. Harry brought his palm over the freshly carved runes. The wood took his blood like a sponge takes up water. The column began to glow a bright golden colour. A dome of light showered the surrounding of the home like the shielding embrace of an old willow tree. The attacks sent toward the barrier fizzled into nothingness before even reaching it, the same way that light vanishes shadow the moment they come into contact with each other.
"Harry! Stop!"
Harry wished he could. He couldn't let go of the wood and it was still taking his blood. What did the deathears say? Dark magic tries to scare you… if you let the fear consume you, so too will the spell. Harry closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He ignored the tingling of his head as he started feeling lightheaded. He took slow breaths.
"Release…" He whispered. His hand was freed from the column and a thunderous ripple of light spread from the centre of the home outward. Nothing seemed to happen within the home. Outside the screeches and howls of pain echoed far and wide.
Everyone looked at each other and at Harry in shock and confusion. They looked from the window. The barrier remained thick around the house. Beyond its warm embrace the Deatheaters that had attacked were lying unconscious or, more likely, dead around the burrow. The tall grass had all been pulled out from the root. A perfect circle of nothingness extended several metres with the burrow as its epicentre.
"They look like werewolves." Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"…I… was just trying to keep everyone safe." Harry mumbled, feeling shaky. Mrs. Weasley turned to him and Harry was sure she was going to smack him.
"Of all the… irresponsible…" Was all she managed to get out, having to take a seat to calm down.
"Harry… do you know what you've done?" Mr. Weasley asked, sitting Harry down for which Harry was grateful.
"…Blood magic..."
"Druid blood magic. Dark magic." He said. "You could have died."
"I… needed… barrier… couldn't think… I…" Harry held his head. It felt like he had a hive of bees in his head and it was hard to talk.
"Ron! Get some mint." Someone exclaimed. It could have been either parent. He wasn't sure. Before he knew it, a mouthful of mint leaves were eased into his mouth and he was encouraged to chew. The taste made it easier to breathe and he became a little more alert.
"Harry." Harry opened his eyes to see professor Dumbledore before him. He blinked a couple of times before looking out the window. The sun was already beginning to set.
"Professor…" The fuzziness in his head had vanished and he managed to sit up. He felt as if he'd taken a very long nap.
"That was a very dangerous thing you did my boy… but it did save all of you. Your instincts proved correct. This time." He said sitting down beside him. Harry looked around and saw the Weasleys sitting nearby, looking relieved that he was awake.
"I feel fine now." Harry said gently. "I was just trying to create a ward quickly enough…"
"Yes. An art used by nomad druids a millennia ago when trees provided an efficient coverage for a spacious protected space. Voldemort had you learn it?"
"Yes… amongst other things." Harry said softly. "But I only learned the theory…" He said and looked around once more. He felt like he was forgetting something. He looked down at the bandaged cut on his hand.
"They were members of Fenrir Greyback's pack." Dumbledore explained. Harry looked away from the bandage.
"…Where's Snape, professor?" Harry was almost afraid to ask.
"Harry look at me. You must first promise me that you will never use dark magic again." Dumbledore told him firmly.
"I was just trying to…"
"I know Harry but these spells are dangerous. Barely studied and potentially deadly." Harry looked out the window. "Harry look at me. They could consume you… even if you go into them with the best intentions."
"Where's Severus? Why isn't he here?" Harry asked, starting to think a little more clearly.
Dumbledore glanced at the Weasleys who glanced back at Dumbledore and then at him. Harry felt his heart begin to race again.
