Disclaimer: The following characters, settings and referenced events are, and always will be, the property of J K Rowling.

– CHAPTER FIVE –

Seventeen Candles

'How you always manage to wriggle out of trouble, I don't know.' Mrs Weasley looked like she didn't know whether she should be pleased or furious that they had managed to escape the Ministry yet again.

'There wasn't anything for Harry to wriggle out of, Mrs Weasley,' Hermione explained. 'He didn't do anything. I did, as I've been saying for the past two weeks.'

'So how come you're not on your way to Azkaban?'

'Because I didn't curse Harry's family.'

'But …' Ron's mother glanced at her husband uncertainly.

'They were charms, Molly,' Mr Weasley grinned as he took a pinch of Floo powder out of the flowerpot above the fireplace. 'Very beneficial charms. So there's nothing the Wizengamot can do to Hermione either.'

'The Wizengamot?' Mrs Weasley gazed around the group, confused. 'I thought the hearing was supposed to be held in Dolores Umbridge's office? They didn't try to do the same thing as last time, surely.'

All four of them nodded at her. 'Scrimgeour pulled a Fudge,' said Harry.

Mrs Weasley's face darkened. 'Well, if the Minister thinks he'll ever get an invitation to dinner at this house, he's got another thing coming. I'm glad now that we couldn't fit him onto the wedding guest list.'

'Anyway, Molly, I need to get back.' Mr Weasley gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek. 'See you tonight. And you lot behave yourselves,' he added to Harry, Ron and Hermione as he stepped into the fireplace and was swept back to the Ministry in a burst of green flames.

Mrs Weasley went back to twirling her wand over a bowl full of cake mix for Harry's party. 'What's that you've got, dear?' she asked as she spotted the package in Harry's hand.

'A birthday present from Mrs Figg. That reminds me,' he suddenly jumped up, 'I haven't opened my other presents yet. Coming?' he yelled at Ron and Hermione as he hurried from the room.

'Watch where you're going? Oh!' Ginny exclaimed as she realised who had almost knocked her over. 'I take it you got off.'

'Of course.' Harry didn't stop at all.

'What's the hurry?' she called after them.

'We're going to open Harry's presents,' Hermione tossed back over her shoulder.

'Can I join in?'

'Yeah, but be quick.' Ron galloped after the others.

Almost out of breath, Harry finally turned into Ron's bedroom and landed with a heavy bounce on his bed. When the others came running in, they joined him in grabbing present after present until the only sound was laughter and ripping paper. When they were done, Harry gazed over the mountain of torn paper at his gifts.

As Ron would say, it was an excellent haul, most of which Harry could see coming in very handy in his battle against Voldemort.

Hermione had given him a large bottle of Polyjuice Potion. Mr and Mrs Weasley's present consisted of a box of homemade fudge and copies of Magical Maladies and The Healer's Helpmate; Mrs Weasley had obviously given up believing that Harry was going to keep himself out of trouble and decided that cure would be more useful that prevention. Hagrid had sent a copy of Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian, which promised excellent ammunition to use against Death Eaters, and Lupin and Tonks's gift was a portrait of Sirius. It wouldn't help much in the fight against the Dark forces but Harry was still touched that he now had a very decent reminder of his godfather.

But the best presents of all were from the Weasley offspring. Ron had given him a pair of shield gloves, Ginny, a shield hat and Fred and George, a shield cloak.

'I'd like to see You-Know-Who's lot try to get through all that,' remarked Ron as he stood back to survey Harry after he had donned the Wheezes products.

After a very appreciated lunch (Harry was starving after missing breakfast), the four of them headed down to the orchard to pit Harry's armour against Mr Viridian's curses, both with and without the Invisibility Cloak over top.

Fred and George arrived late afternoon and joined in the fun. But things didn't get really involved until Remus and Tonks turned up just before the party. With a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and an Auror present, the twins decided the opportunity was too good to miss and immediately set them to work putting their products through far more vigorous testing than the brothers ever could. By the time Mrs Weasley called them in to dinner, Harry was exhausted, battered and bruised, but wouldn't have had it any other way.

'Thanks for the portrait, Professor,' said Harry as they scraped their boots on the worn mat outside the kitchen door. 'And you too, Tonks.'

'Our pleasure,' said Lupin as Tonks grinned. 'And call me Remus. You're a man now, and I'm certainly not your teacher anymore.'

'So, what else did you get for your birthday, Harry?' asked Tonks as she helped Molly by fetching plates from the dresser. Harry rattled off the list.

'What about the one from Mrs Figg?' Molly looked up from putting the finishing touches on the most enticing cake Harry had ever seen.

'What one from – oh, I forgot all about that. Hang on, I'll be right back.' Reaching Ron's room in record time, he rummaged around under his bed until he felt a small parcel, then rushed back downstairs, breathing hard the whole way.

'This probably won't be all that good,' he warned, but everybody still watched with interest as he started to tear the wrapping revealing …

'Candles?' Ron scoffed. 'Well, you were right, mate. It wasn't good.'

'I wouldn't be so sure.' Lupin reached for the thin sticks of wax. 'May I?'

Harry half nodded, half shrugged. What more could they be except what they looked like? He watched in confusion as Lupin waved his wand above the handful of candles. His frown deepened as the candles started to glow purple.

'What –?'

'Who did you say gave these to you?' Lupin glanced up at Harry.

'Mrs Figg.'

'Arabella?'

Harry nodded.

Lupin frowned. 'Where would a Squib get her hands on something like these?'

'Like what?' Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing Harry was, that there was nothing special about a pile of candles.

'When you blew out your birthday candles when you were little, did you ever make a wish?' Lupin asked.

'No,' Harry snorted. 'I never had any birthday cakes, let alone candles to blow out.' He wished Mrs Weasley would stop looking at him with such pity.

'Well, now you're going to get a chance to make up for it.' Lupin smiled broadly. 'These aren't ordinary candles. When you blow out these candles, you get seventeen wishes.'

'What, real wishes?' Harry gazed up into Lupin's smiling eyes.

'When you blow out those,' Lupin placed the candles back into Harry's hand, 'you'll have twenty-four hours to make your wishes. Just light a candle, make a wish, and when it burns out, you'll get it.'

Even Ron and Hermione looked interested now. 'What can he wish for?' asked Hermione.

'Anything he wants except the impossible, money, knowledge or mayhem, including murder.'

'So I can't wish for Voldemort to be dead or anything like that?' Harry ignored the wave of shudders which rippled through the Weasley's.

Lupin shook his head. 'But you can wish for pretty much anything else. So start thinking up seventeen things you'd love to have.'

Harry caught Ron and Hermione's eyes. This was going to be fun. Or it would have been if he could think clearly. Suddenly, everybody was full of suggestions on what to wish for, most of which would suit the ones coming up with the ideas better than Harry.

'These are Harry's wishes, remember,' Lupin shouted over the noise of fervent voices but nobody paid him any attention. It was only after the party was over (everyone had held their breaths as Harry had blown out the candles) and they were all relaxing sleepily in the warm air outside, that Mr Weasley made the best suggestion.

'Wish for things which can never be broken or taken away from you, and which can be passed from one to the other with just a few words. Wish for something you will treasure for the rest of your life. Wish for happy memories.'

x

'So, what are you going to wish for?'

It was midnight and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all gathered in Ron's bedroom, whispering so Mr and Mrs Weasley wouldn't hear.

'I'm going to follow your dad's advice and wish for happy memories.'

Ron's brow creased. 'Why would you want to wish for something so lame? You can have anything you want.'

'This is what I want.' Harry held up a length of parchment.

'Is that your list?' Hermione tried to see what was written on it.

Harry nodded. 'I ran it by Lupin before, just to make sure that I wouldn't be wasting any wishes asking for the impossible. Hey!' Ron had snatched it from him.

He scanned down the page. He stopped halfway. 'What's with number eight?'

Harry watched his friend's face. 'What, you don't think that would make a happy memory?'

'It would make an excellent one. I just … I thought these things had to happen in the next twenty-four hours.'

'They have to start then, yes.'

'But –'

'You'll see.' Harry took the parchment back. 'Trust me, OK.'

'So, what happens now?' whispered Ginny.

'We start making some wishes.' Harry rattled the jar he had stored the candles in and grinned at his friends. Unscrewing the lid, he took one out and lit it. He stuck it into a holder, held it up in front of his face and, taking a deep breath, said 'I wish that this room was soundproof for the next seven hours.'

The candle burned down much faster than normal candles did, but then this was no ordinary candle. As it sputtered and died in its pool of melted wax, a soft hum echoed around the room. They all glanced around at each other nervously.

'Did it work?' asked Ron.

'There's one way to find out,' said Hermione, standing.

'What are you going to do?' Ron looked scared. 'Don't wake Mum and Dad.'

'Don't worry, Ron.' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I'm just going to stand outside the door. Harry, knock on the door, getting steadily louder as you go. If I can hear it, I'll come back in and tell you.'

'How long do I knock for?'

'We'll try it for five minutes. If I can't hear you in that time, then I'd say we're pretty safe for the rest of the night.' She grinned at him.

For the next five minutes, Harry had fun making noise. He started pretty softly, just in case it hadn't worked, but when Hermione didn't come racing back in, telling them to keep it down, he grew bolder, getting louder and louder until he was fairly banging on the door. Ron and Ginny joined in with enthusiasm, Ron even shouting with increasing volume. When the five minutes were up, Hermione came back in.

'So, did you hear us?' asked Ron, grinning from ear to ear.

'Of course not,' Hermione replied. 'But then, Harry was only knocking.'

Harry, Ron and Ginny exchanged glances … and burst out laughing.

'Shhh!' Hermione glanced around nervously.

'Relax, Hermione,' Harry assured her. 'Nobody can hear us. We can do whatever we want, make as much noise as we want. Nobody will know.'

'They will when we don't wake up tomorrow because we're too sleepy.'

'Wish number seventeen.' Harry waved the list under her nose. 'So, what flavour ice-cream do you like best?'

'What?'

'Wish number eleven.'

'"Hermione gets to eat as much of her favourite ice-cream with Harry, Ron and Ginny",' Hermione read out. She glanced up at Harry, who grinned back at her. 'Erm …' She looked undecided but Harry couldn't help noticing a tiny gleam of desire in her eye as she licked her lips. 'Butterscotch ripple.'

'Ginny?' Harry glanced across at his former girlfriend who was kneeling on Ron's bed, a spoon ready in her hand.

'Liquorice, cherry and honeycomb.'

'Together?' Ron screwed his nose up.

'Why not?' she said. 'I like all three flavours but you can't get them together. Now's my only chance.'

'And what about you, Ron?' Harry turned to his friend, expectantly.

'Oh, that's a tough one, there are so many to choose from. Um … I think I'll have peppermint, marshmallow, dark chocolate, raspberry and caramel fudge.'

Ginny stared at him incredulously. 'And you reckon mine was weird. Yours will look like sludge.'

'Suddenly, my selection sounds really boring,' said Hermione in a dejected tone.

'You can always change your mind,' said Harry.

'What are you going to pick, Harry?' Ginny looked up at him.

'That's easy. Treacle tart, honey mead and blackcurrant syrup.' Harry sat, cross-legged, on his bed and got four candles out. 'Here goes.'

He lit the first one. 'I wish I had an unending carton of peppermint, marshmallow, dark chocolate, raspberry and caramel fudge-flavoured ice-cream.'

Ron's tongue was sticking out in concentration as he leant forwards, watching the candle burn down. As it died in its own juice, Harry was suddenly holding a round container covered in pink and green stripes. He passed it to Ron, who tugged off the lid.

'Whoa!' Ron's eyes were enormous as he gazed inside the container. The contents were not, as Ginny predicted, the colour of sludge, but green, white, dark brown, red and tan. Each flavour took up exactly one fifth of the container so that, from the top, it looked like a five-spoked wheel.

'So that's how it's done,' said Ginny. 'Good. I was wondering what mine was going to taste like.'

'You're next, Ginny.' Harry got another candle ready. Ginny waited with bated breath. 'I wish I had an unending carton of liquorice, cherry and honeycomb-flavoured ice-cream.' And, when that candle burnt itself out, Harry handed Ginny her tub.

'Want to change your request, Hermione?' Harry picked up a third candle.

'No,' she said, earning dropped jaws from Ron and Ginny and making them dribble ice-cream all over Ron's bedspread. 'That really is my absolute favourite flavour. I could eat it all day, if I knew it wouldn't make me sick.'

'OK, you asked for it.' Harry lit the candle. 'I wish I had an unending carton of butterscotch ripple-flavoured ice-cream.'

A moment later Hermione was tucking into her choice of indulgence, pure ecstasy plastered all over her face.

Taking up the last candle, Harry wished for his ice-cream, then joined his friends in moaning with pleasure as he dug out spoonfuls of heaven.

The girls snuck back to their own bedroom just after five, Hermione having first used Harry's wand to clean up all of the melted ice-cream from the bedspreads and walls. Halfway through the night, they had started swapping tubs, just to see what the others were like, and Harry's, with its honey mead, had made them all just a teensy bit tipsy. This had led to an ice-cream fight, boys against girls, and with an unending supply, they had made a lot of mess. They had time to grab a couple of hours sleep before Mrs Weasley came to get them, giving Harry the cue to make his sixth wish: that they would all be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, not displaying any signs that they had had less than a full night's sleep.

The whole family (with the exception of Percy) had either been given or taken the day off work, intending to use it to take care of last-minute things for the wedding, but Harry decided to put the morning to better use. After breakfast, he lit his seventh candle.

'Er … Harry … how did we get here?' Ron glanced around uncertainly.

They were standing in what looked like the Gryffindor Quidditch changing rooms at Hogwarts, except that the curtained walls were blue and white instead of scarlet and gold. Charlie, Fred, George and Ginny were also there, all of them were wearing blue and white Quidditch robes.

Harry gazed at the seventh person in their group.

'Are you ready, team?' asked the stranger.

'Ready!' said Harry emphatically. Charlie, Fred, George and Ginny still looked like they had stepped into an extremely bizarre dream. Ron gasped.

'That's Dominic Roper-Power, captain of the England International Quidditch team!' he whispered excitedly, grabbing Harry's arm. 'What's he doing here?'

'Just play like you did in the semi-finals, and we've got that cup in the bag.' Dominic picked up a broom with the word Firebolt embossed upon it in gold. The Weasleys looked around and realised that there was a Firebolt for each of them.

'Let's go get them.' The captain started to lead them out to the game.

'Can someone please explain to me what's going on?' Charlie refused to move.

'You made that wish, didn't you?' Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously.

'What wish?' asked George.

'Harry's list of wishes,' Ron explained. 'There was one which had us playing for England in the World Cup.'

'What?' squealed Ginny. 'Oh, my God. I'm not that good!'

'Yes, you are,' Harry assured her. 'You all are. Except, perhaps …' He glanced at Charlie. 'Will you be right to play Chaser or would you rather sit this out?'

'You're serious, aren't you?' Charlie frowned at Harry.

'Yeah, he's serious.' George sounded like he had been hit by one of his own Bludgers as he peered through the opening leading out to the stadium. Ron, Fred and Ginny crowded around him for their own peeks. Ginny paled considerably.

Charlie was still frowning at Harry. 'Is this real?'

'Yep.'

'But … what happened to the rest of the team? And when did England get themselves through to the final?'

'When I wished it.' Harry picked up his own Firebolt. 'Now, like the captain said, we have a match to win.' He turned and followed Roper-Power out to the stadium.

The others exchanged uncertain glances but, as ordered, took up their brooms and followed their captain. They were a team, after all.

'And here comes the England team. I give you Roper-Power! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! Aaaaaaand – Potter!'

Thunderous applause and cheers bombarded them as they flew around the stadium, speeding after the captain.

'Harry,' Ron was the colour of milk. 'I can't do this.' His broom hovered next to Harry's as they waited for the balls to be released.

'Yes, you can.' Harry was finding it hard to contain his excitement. 'You've managed to win two Quidditch cups so far. Think of this as the same.'

'With that lot trying to stop us?' He gazed at the Transylvanian team opposite them. Wearing robes the colour of blood, all seven of them had dark hair, glistening with oil. Ron gulped as the three Chasers grinned at him, revealing long teeth which looked suspiciously like fangs.

'Hey Ron,' Charlie leaned over. 'Look up in the top box.'

Ron squinted towards the box they had all sat in when Ireland had beaten Bulgaria. Waving at them proudly were Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley, Bill, Fleur and Hermione. And looking very disgruntled in the corner, as if he wished he wasn't there …

'Do you really want to make a fool of yourself in front of Percy?'

'What's he doing here?' Ron turned to Harry. 'You didn't wish him here, surely.' But a sharp whistle blast put a stop to any further chatter.

'Theeeeeeeey're OFF! screamed Bagman. 'And it's Roper-Power! Weasley! Weasley! Back to Roper-Power! Weasley! And Weasley … scores!'

A hundred thousand screams hit Harry like a tidal wave as Ginny scored. She did a couple of lightning fast laps of the pitch to celebrate as the England mascot, – a gigantic lion formed by thousands of fairies flying together – soared above the crowd, then the Quaffle was being tossed back into play by the Transylvanian Keeper.

'… And Weasley saves the attempt by Vlad to get the Quaffle past him and the scores are ENGLAND: FIFTY, TRANSYLVANIA: ZERO.

'… And Potter has seen the Snitch. He's speeding towards the ground at breakneck speed, Zog valiantly trying to catch him. They're going to crash!'

Harry pulled up at the last second, his broom equal to the task asked of it. A mournful 'Ooooh!' echoed behind him as the Transylvanian Seeker crashed into the ground, fooled for a third time by Harry's Wronski Feint.

'… And Weasley saves the goal yet again!' Bagman's voice was sounding decidedly hoarse after an hour of screaming fanatically. 'He wasn't at all fooled by Transylvania's attempted Flying Impaler. And the Transylvanian captain is not happy. Not happy at all. And if I am not mistaken, he is calling for the entire team to stage a protest. Oh, ladies and gentlemen, I don't believe we've ever seen the likes of this before. It would be a sorry way for England to win after all the work they've put in, having the cup handed to them by a walkout. But … wait a moment …' Bagman's voice rose in pitch, 'Has Potter spotted the Snitch this time? It must be, ladies and gentlemen. It can't be another feint because Zog is being tied up by his captain. And …'

Harry was zooming from the far end of the stadium, through the protesting opposition, scattering players like skittles, straight at the top box. Bagman screamed and even Mrs Weasley shrieked in terror, but Harry could see Mr Weasley and Bill's eyes widen in horrified fascination as he got closer. He stretched out a hand towards Bagman's chin.

'He's got it! Potter scores one hundred and fifty points for catching the Golden Snitch!' Bagman sounded very shaky as he read out the final scores – ENGLAND: FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY, TRANSYLVANIA: FORTY.

Not that Harry was taking much notice. He was being tugged every which way as the five Weasleys hung off him, slowly dragging him back up to the top box, where the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, was waiting to pass the enormous World Cup to the England captain.

x

'Oh, Harry, I don't know when I've ever been so terrified. What on earth made you make such a wish?'

Mrs Weasley was shaking like a leaf as Hermione made her a cup of tea. 'Don't you dare put me through something like that ever again!'

'Come on, Mum.' Bill tossed Harry a wink. 'You enjoyed every minute of it. How many mothers can say they've had five children win the World Cup?'

The atmosphere in the Burrow's kitchen was pure euphoria, despite Mrs Weasley's objections.

'Eef just one of my cheeldren playz in zee World Cup final, I would be very 'appy.' Fleur was gazing around at them all with a very impressed look on her beautiful face. 'Eet looks like I am going to marry a very talented family, eendeed.'

'Even if it was only wishful thinking, I'm still very proud of all of you.' Mr Weasley beamed at his children. 'I know I told you to wish for a happy memory, Harry, but … wow! That was a beauty.'

'It's not like it was a proper win,' sulked Percy sourly. 'The match had stopped, so Harry cheated.'

'The Transylvanian Seeker chased after Harry before he got to the Snitch so the game was still in progress, no matter what the rest of his team was doing.' Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brother.

'Shut up, Perce.' Charlie was rubbing blue ointment into his left bicep. 'You're just jealous because you've haven't got any talent yourself.'

'Don't you have a job you're not doing at the moment?' Fred glowered at his estranged brother.

Percy pouted back. 'Yes, I do. And I'll thank you all not to waste any more of my valuable time.' And without even giving his mother a goodbye kiss, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he had gone, a hush fell over the room for all of five seconds, then –

'Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!'

The explosion of noise threatened to shake the already shaky Burrow to its very foundations.

It took a couple more hours for the adrenalin to wear off a bit but, by the time Mrs Weasley began to get lunch ready, their grins were starting to recede a fraction. Bill had promised to take Harry to Gringotts to get some money to be going on with and Hermione, Ron and Ginny all wanted to go, too. Mrs Weasley didn't think it was a very good idea them leaving the house with so little supervision but, as Ron delighted in pointing out to his mother, he, Harry and Hermione were all seventeen, so there wasn't a thing she could do to stop them. She could, however, put her foot down about Ginny (which Ron's sister certainly made her views clear about) but Mrs Weasley would not be moved so, after lunch, only Harry, Ron and Hermione went back upstairs to get ready to go into London.

As they were climbing the stairs, Harry leant across and whispered something to Hermione.

'What did you just say to her?' Ron frowned after Hermione as she turned into her room.

'You'll see,' said Harry mysteriously but wouldn't expand on his answer. Ron was still eyeing him suspiciously when they entered his bedroom.

'Wait up.' Harry stopped Ron from opening his wardrobe.

'Now what?' Ron turned back to his friend. 'What are you going to do with that?' he asked as Harry set up another candle.

'You'll see.' Harry grinned as he lit the wick. He gazed intently at the candle and moved his lips, but no sound issued forth.

'What did you just wish for?' Ron asked warily.

'You'll see.'

Ron still looked sceptical. 'Right. Well, I hope you wished to be dressed quickly, ready to go, or Mum's going to be real –'

Harry's grinned widened as Ron opened his wardrobe door and stopped, speechless.

'That's for being my best friend. I want you to not have to put up with mean, snide remarks from the Malfoys of this world, always having a go at you about your clothes.'

'Oh, mate. This is too much,' Ron whispered in awe as he stared at the full wardrobe of brand new, unfaded, unpatched, latest-line wizards wear, complete with several pairs of new, well-polished shoes. He turned back to Harry. 'I can't accept this.'

'Too late now.' Harry held up the burnt-out candle. 'And while we're at it …' Harry used up three more candles, wishing for a new outfit for himself for Bill and Fleur's wedding, new shoes to go with it, and a more comfortable cage for Hedwig.

A soft knock on the door heralded Hermione's arrival.

'Did you bring them?' asked Harry.

'Bring what?' Ron frowned at the two of them as Hermione held up the broken pieces of her wand.

'So, what do you want my wand for … why are you drooling, Ron? Oh,' she exclaimed, noticing the open wardrobe behind him. She looked back over her shoulder at Harry. 'Did you do that?'

Harry nodded.

'But those wishes are supposed to be for you. They're meant to make you happy,' Hermione reminded him.

'That did make me happy. Very happy. And so will this.' Harry lit another candle. When it faded to nothing …

'Oh!' Hermione gazed down at the repaired wand in her hand. 'Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have.'

'Look, if you want to make me happy, you can do so by helping me. And you'll be able to do that best by having a wand. You won't be much help to me without it, not with what we still have to do yet.'

'I suppose.' Hermione seemed to be trying not to look extremely over the moon about having her wand back in one piece but wasn't doing a very good job.

'Just say, "thank you, we love you very much, Harry", and we'll leave it at that,'

He suddenly found himself buried under a pile of pillows.

Still laughing, they all trooped back downstairs, meeting Bill halfway down.

'You're not going to town dressed like that, are you?' Mrs Weasley looked up from the lunch dishes as Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Bill into the kitchen.

They frowned down at their jeans and T-shirts. 'What's wrong with how we look?' asked Hermione.

'They're Muggle outfits.' said Mrs Weasley. 'You aren't planning on going into Muggle London, are you?'

'No.' Harry looked at her blankly. 'What difference does that make?'

'Well, you'll stand out a mile in Diagon Alley in that get-up. You really should wear something a little more suited to the situation. You are wizards and witches, after all.'

'But we've never had any trouble wearing Muggle clothes to Diagon Alley before,' Hermione pointed out.

'Yes, but that was before.' Mrs Weasley gave her wand another flick over the sink. 'Diagon Alley's changed; you're regarded with great suspicion if you don't look the part now. You don't want to go getting into trouble with the wrong people.'

'Who –?'

'Just people,' Mrs Weasley didn't answer Harry's question to his satisfaction. 'So you just march back upstairs and change into something more suitable.'

No amount of arguing would change her mind or even drag a better answer out of her so, Ron grumbling with every step, they returned to their rooms to change into wizard's robes.

'If we have to look like wizards, then we need to act like wizards,' said Ron, grabbing up his wand and tucking it inside his robes. 'And the best part is, Mum can't stop us.'

Back downstairs, Mrs Weasley embarrassed them further by making them line up in front of the fireplace so she could inspect them, making sure they measured up to some unknown benchmark, though she didn't seem to notice Ron's new clothes at all, before allowing them to follow Bill into the fire with an order to behave themselves.

'Why does she still have to treat us like we're only two?' Ron complained as they had left Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and headed up Diagon Alley towards Gringotts. 'She doesn't treat Fred and George like that.'

'She'll improve,' said Hermione soothingly. 'She just needs to see evidence that you're all grown up.'

'What evidence have Fred and George given her to prove they are? They're still fooling around with joke stuff, just like when they were kids.'

'They're running their own very successful business,' Hermione pointed out. 'As soon as she sees you fighting Voldemort and not being at school anymore, she'll change.'

Ron still looked sceptical but didn't say anything more.

Trotting along after Bill, Harry glanced around. If anything, the atmosphere seemed to be darker than it had been last time he was here. Shop fronts were still hidden behind Ministry notices, but the purple had faded considerably after a year of sun exposure and many of the edges were frayed and torn. Along the street, several more shop windows had been boarded up, though this seemed to be due more to them going out of business rather than their former owners being attacked by Death Eaters if the messages painted across their fronts were anything to go by. There didn't even seem to be as many stalls lining the street, showing that Mr Weasley's department were having some success or, like their more permanent neighbours, they had closed up shop due to lack of customers.

And there certainly did seem to be a lot fewer customers out and about. Harry saw a total of five groups along the full length of Diagon Alley who looked like they might actually be shopping, even though there seemed to be quite a lot of people wandering up and down the street. Most of the people he could see were wearing dark grey robes and pointed hats with a large black 'M' embroidered on them. They seemed to be some sort of patrol, with their marching stride and serious, almost hawk-like expressions, and were watching each of the shoppers quite closely.

As Harry glanced back along the alley, he saw what was clearly a group of Muggles come through the archway from the Leaky Cauldron. A small girl amongst them looked like she might be a first-year; she was clutching what looked like a Hogwarts letter and her large overawed eyes certainly telegraphed that this was the first time she had ever seen anything to do with the wizarding world. Harry wondered if his eyes had looked like that when Hagrid had brought him here.

Almost as soon as they had entered Diagon Alley, every … officer, Harry supposed they were … descended upon the new group and began questioning, poking and prodding so hard that the family's delight at this amazing new world very quickly changed to terror. The little girl was almost in tears, and when she suddenly zapped two of the men with her new powers, both she and her parents found themselves being hauled off out of sight.

'Don't,' Bill ordered as both Harry and Hermione went to go towards them.

'But … she didn't mean it.' Harry couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. 'She was frightened. I did stuff like that myself before I started at Hogwarts.'

'We all did.' Bill kept walking towards Gringotts. 'But you don't want to go making trouble for yourself unnecessarily. Now, let's hurry.'

'Why did they pick on them like that?' Hermione kept glancing back over her shoulder. 'Was it because they're new to this?'

'It was because they didn't look like wizards.' Bill strode purposefully towards the bank. Harry, Ron and Hermione frowned at him. 'The Ministry is highly suspicious of anything which appears to be less than completely magical … they're suspicious of everything full stop, actually … but Muggle-looking stuff rates up there near the top. They seem to think that no self-respecting witch or wizard would willingly declare their support for You-Know-Who and, because of all the pamphlets the Ministry has distributed, everyone knows how to fight off You-Know-Who and his supporters, so the Dark side now has no choice but to use Muggles to do their dirty work. And, of course, that chap in the Muggle Prime Minister's office didn't help matters at all last year.'

'Do you mean the one who was quacking?' asked Hermione. 'I remember seeing him on the news.'

'That's the one. Apparently, he reacted badly to an Imperius Curse, so someone had managed to get to him. And if they could get to him, they can get to any Muggle.'

'But that's silly, thinking no witches or wizards would have anything to do with Voldemort,' said Harry angrily. 'What about all the people who willingly became Death Eaters?'

'The Ministry doesn't consider them to be self-respecting.'

'Does that include Malfoy and Yaxley?' asked Harry as they mounted the steps leading up to Gringotts' front doors. Bill's face tightened but he didn't say anything as he held the door for them.

Getting through the new security measures didn't take as long as it should have thanks to Harry using up yet another wish. Less than twenty minutes later, they were all zooming at high speed through the labyrinth of tunnels which led to the high-security section of Gringotts.

'Your vault isn't this far down, is it?' Ron looked around with a slightly alarmed expression on his face, obviously thinking they were lost.

'I want to check out Sirius's family vault,' Harry replied as their cart started to slow down. 'I haven't been to it since I inherited.'

'Vault number one hundred and eleven,' their goblin announced as the cart stopped. They all climbed out.

'Stand back, please.' The goblin (whose name was Shaddock) threw out an arm to stop Ron advancing and stroked the door gently with a long finger, making it melt away.

'Wow!'

All three teenagers crowded closer to get a good look inside the vault. It was like a large room, almost three quarters full of every type of treasure and valuable imaginable. Precious gems winked in the flickering light, portraits of dark-eyed faces scowled and sneered at them from within heavy gold frames, silver utensils lay tarnished upon more Galleons than Harry thought he could count in a lifetime. And all this was his. No matter how long it took for him to find all of the remaining Horcruxes, Harry knew his finances would certainly hold up.

'Did you wish to make a withdrawal today, sir or were you only wanting to take account?' asked Shaddock, gazing up at Harry expectantly.

'I'll make a withdrawal.' Harry hadn't really thought about what he was going to do, but now that he was here, he might as well take advantage of the opportunity. He reached through the doorway and began scooping handfuls of coins into a large sack.

'Is there any way Harry can get an inventory?' Hermione asked Bill. 'Just so he knows if there's anything useful in all of that.'

'Useful?' Ron leant against the wall opposite them and folded his arms. 'I'd say all of it was pretty useful. It's certainly all valuable.'

'I was thinking about some of the stuff we cleaned out of Sirius's house two years ago,' said Hermione. 'Sure, that was useful, but only in a very dark – Ron!'

Harry dropped the bag. He turned from the vault at the sound of Hermione's cry in time to see Ron's feet disappear through the middle of a very dark door; he hadn't been leaning against a wall, but the door of the vault opposite the Sirius's. Hermione rushed forwards.

'Don't!' Harry yelled, but too late. She had already touched the door and, with another cry, was sucked through it after her boyfriend.

'Do something!' Harry ordered as Shaddock stared at the source of the commotion but, instead of stroking the door and opening it, the goblin merely leered evilly.

'That is what awaits the sin of greed: they must now pay most dearly in their turn.' Shaddock quoted the Gringotts warning at him.

'They weren't trying to steal anything. Ron was just leaning against the door, he didn't know it would do that; he's never been down this far before. And neither has Hermione.'

The goblin remained unmoved.

'I'll go get help.' Bill earned a reproachful glare from Shaddock but the goblin didn't try to stop him leaving. 'Let them know everything will be OK.'

Harry gazed uncertainly after Bill. How was he supposed to tell Ron and Hermione that help was on its way? No doubt Ron, at least, was reacting quite frantically, yet Harry couldn't hear a thing coming from the vault, so it was probably soundproof.

'These things don't have intercoms, do they?"

'Inter – what?' Shaddock stared at Harry as if he had gone mad.

'Never mind.' Harry stared at the vault door, undecided. He could only see one way of telling his friends what was going on. Ignoring yet another leer from the goblin, he reached out a hand and touched the vault's door. Suddenly, for one terrifying moment, he was being turned inside out as a hurricane roared inside his ears, then he found himself falling face down into a pile of heavy metal.

'Harry!'

'Are you OK, mate?' Ron grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Harry nodded shakily as he glanced around.

'Hermione reckons I fell through that door I was leaning against.'

'Sucked through, actually,' Harry explained. 'It's part of the security for these vaults. If anybody except a goblin touches the door, even the proper owner of the vault, then they get sucked in.'

'How often do they check them?' asked Hermione.

'About once every ten years.'

'What?' Ron looked horrified. 'You mean we're stuck in here for …?' He didn't seem able to put the timeframe into words.

'Of course we're not stuck here, Ron,' said Hermione as if she couldn't believe Ron would consider such a thing plausible. 'That goblin can easily let us out.'

'Then why hasn't he?' Ron's voice was slightly higher pitched than normal.

'Because he won't,' Harry dropped his bombshell.

'What?' Now it was Hermione's turn to squeak. 'Why not?'

'Something about the sin of greed. He just quoted the Gringotts warning at me. Don't worry, Bill's going for help.'

This seemed to reassure his friends sufficiently to make some of the colour return to their pale faces. Hermione awkwardly climbed over the piles of gold to where a large stone ring, at least eight feet in diameter, was leaning against the back wall.

'What is it?' Harry clamoured over the treasure to join her in her perusal.

'A Draumr Kopa ring. I think,' she added hastily, wanting to make it clear that she wasn't absolutely certain.

'A what?'

'It was used in very ancient times to divine when certain plants should be sowed and harvested. When the time was right, engraved symbols would suddenly appear in each of those sections telling the owner to get to work in the garden.' She pointed at the divided sections running all around the ring. 'Only the most ancient families ever owned them.'

The mention of ancient families made Ron look up. 'We're not in the Malfoy vault, are we?'

'Put that down,' Hermione ordered, noticing that he had picked up a sword.

'I wasn't going to steal it, 'said Ron testily. 'I was just checking it out. Wow.' His eyes lighted upon a silver dragon's head poking out of the jumble. He dropped the sword and reached forwards, pulling it out with a tug. The dragon was attached to the top of a gleaming helmet. 'Wow.'

Hermione looked interested despite her earlier protest. 'That looks like it was goblin-made. I wonder where the armour is to match it?' This started Ron rummaging through the pile, looking for the rest of it.

'Goblin-made armour?'

Hermione gazed at Harry, curious. 'It looks like it. Why?'

Harry ignored her question. 'And that ring.' He pointed at the stone circle. 'You said it was used in very ancient times.' Again, she nodded. 'By people who were really into Herbology?'

'Where are you leading to?' Hermione was frowning at him now.

'I think I know whose vault this is.'

Ron dropped the armour and sword. 'What? How? Is it Malfoy's?'

'No.' Harry glanced around at the assortment of gold chalices, dishes, and coins. 'I think it might be the Smith's vault. In the memory Dumbledore showed me of Voldemort and Hepzibah Smith, Voldemort said he had been sent to increase Borgin and Burke's offer for "the goblin-made armour". That looks like it might be it. That was also when she showed Voldemort Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup.'

'What?' Ron gaped at him. 'One of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes is here.' He pulled out his wand and, without thinking about what he was about to do, shouted, 'Accio cup!'

Every cup in the place started flying at him.

'Ow!' Ron snatched up the sword again and began beating off the cups like he was swinging a cricket bat, hitting Harry and Hermione as they dived for cover.

'What –?'

Hermione pulled out her wand.

'Finite Incantatum!'

Suddenly, the turmoil stopped.

'Good one, Ron.' Hermione scowled as she rounded on her boyfriend. 'Could you have been a little less specific. Accio cup, really.'

'I was just trying to –'

'Be stupid,' Hermione finished for him.

'But Harry said this is Hepzibah Smiths' vault. So the Hor –'

'Oh, Ron, do you really think Hufflepuff's cup would be amongst this lot.' Hermione snapped. 'Voldemort stole it.' She sat down on a pile of sickles and began checking her arms, shaking slightly with anger and pain.

Harry didn't blame her. He was feeling pretty battered and bruised himself. Glancing around at the three of them, he saw that they were all covered in cuts and scratches, and their robes were torn.

Ron's embarrassment over his attempts to find the Hufflepuff Horcrux was fortunately enough to make him keep his wand to himself and he also sank onto the treasure, muttering under his breath, his back to Hermione.

Harry wondered how long it would take Bill to fetch help but, before he could ponder the problem very much, the door suddenly burst into flames. Ron grabbed the sword again as the three of them jumped up, ready to battle this new threat but, instead, they found themselves face to face with an angry middle-aged woman and …

'Zacharius Smith. What are you doing here?' Hermione blinked at the newcomers, then clapped her hand against her forehead. 'Oh, of course, the Smith vault.'

Bill stepped in front of Zacharius's mother and helped haul Harry, Ron and Hermione out of the vault. Zacharius grinned with glee at the sight of the three Gryffindors looking so battle-weary. Ron glared at him.

'Anything we can help you with?'

'Yes,' Mrs Smith screwed her nose up as Ron passed. 'You can return all of the gold you just stole.' She waved her wand at Ron but nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again, then waved her wand at Harry and Hermione. Still no gold was forthcoming.

'You broke into our vault and you didn't nick anything?' Zacharius exclaimed disbelievingly.

'As I explained to your mother,' said Bill, 'they didn't break in. Ron didn't know about the security on these vaults and accidentally leant against yours.'

'Then how did Potter and Granger get in there?'

'We went in to tell Ron that help was on its way.' Harry replied, throwing Zacharius a contemptuous look. Admittedly, he had never really had a lot to do with Zacharius Smith before, but he had never thought of him as being a snob like Malfoy. He found he didn't really like him very much and was glad he wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. It was just a pity he had to see him now, and under such embarrassing circumstances.

'What happened?' Bill asked as he ran an eye over their less than pristine appearance. Harry heard Mrs Smith telling the goblin that she wanted a full audit done of her vault's contents.

'Oh, Ron found a helmet and cast "Accio" to find the armour which went with it, and everything suddenly flew at us,' Harry replied as Bill led them back to the Gringotts cart.

Before they left the bank, Bill called into a crowded office on the ninth floor and collected a small parcel from a goblin squirreled away amongst boxes bulging to the brim with more rings than Harry would have thought there were fingers on the planet, then he led them back out into the afternoon sun.

Over lunch in the Leaky Cauldron, Bill showed them what was in the parcel. It turned out to be the rings for the wedding next day.

'Oh,' Hermione breathed as she gently removed one and examined it closely.

Harry leaned forwards. It didn't look at all like any wedding ring he had seen before. While Aunt Petunia's engagement ring had a diamond in a claw clasp, both hers and Uncle Vernon's wedding rings were just plain, gold bands. No engraved date or sentiments or anything. But this ring consisted of two very thin strips of gold running around the border, joined by numerous scrolling shapes, almost as if someone had written them with gold ink.

'Are those runes?' he asked, eyeing the shapes.

'Hmm.' Hermione nodded. 'It translates as "For as the sun is daily new and old, so is my love still telling what is told". That's from one of Shakespeare's sonnets; number seventy six.'

Bill looked impressed by her effort. 'Let me guess, you got Outstanding for your Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies OWLs.' He grinned. Harry remembered that Bill had gotten twelve OWLs, which meant he had to have been doing pretty much every subject available, so he was probably pretty good at Runes himself.

'Ancient Runes, yes. I didn't do Muggle Studies,' Hermione informed him.

They were almost finished lunch when a tall man with very tanned skin entered through the door leading up to the hotel bedrooms, voluminous robes sweeping around him as he walked. Bill waved him over.

'Kaveesh.' Bill and the stranger embraced in a bear hug. Turning to the others, he began the introductions. 'You've met my baby brother, Ron, before.' (Ron screwed his nose up at being called 'Baby'.) 'This is his girlfriend, Hermione Granger, and his best friend, Harry Potter.' The stranger eyed Harry with interest. 'Everybody, this is my friend, Kaveesh Baghan. We used to work together in Egypt.'

'It is a great pleasure to be acquainted with the friends of my good friend, Bill,' said Baghan in a deep, satin-smooth voice as he bowed to each of them in turn, earning a scathing glare from Ron as he gently grasped Hermione's hand and kissed it, making her blush.

'Are you settled in upstairs, OK?' asked Bill as Baghan sat down.

'Yes, the accommodations here are most satisfactory.' There was something almost mesmerising about that voice and Harry found himself wishing he could sound like that. 'This is where the festivities will be held tonight, is it not?'

'Mmm.' Bill nodded. 'Everyone should start arriving soon after five and then …' He raised his eyebrows at Harry and Ron a couple of times as his face split in a silly grin.

Baghan glanced uncertainly at Hermione. 'And the young lady?'

'Oh, Hermione won't be here.' Bill was still grinning. 'It's strictly men only.'

'I don't know that we would want to be part of this,' said Hermione in a revolted tone. 'I've heard about these sort of parties and we definitely don't want to get involved. Besides, I have my own party to go to.'

'What are you talking about?' Ron was frowning very deeply at her.

'Fleur's bridal shower. It's tonight, too. It should be a lot of fun. I just hope you two don't make too much noise and disturb us.' She scowled at Harry and Ron.

'What do you mean? Aren't you having Fleur's party at home?' asked Ron.

'Of course.'

'Then how do you possibly expect to hear us from here? I know we'll probably be pretty rowdy but I doubt even your ears are that good,' said Ron.

'You won't be here,' said Hermione smugly. 'There's no way your mum will let you get involved in anything like this.'

'I'd like to see her stop us.' He glanced across at Harry 'Right?'

'Right.' Harry crossed his arms. 'Whether Mrs Weasley likes it or not, we're seventeen now so, like Ron said, she can't stop us.'

'And neither can you,' Ron added for good measure.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Bill stepped in. 'They're right, Hermione, they've been invited to this. Do you want me not to have all of my brothers join me in my last night of freedom?'

Hermione arched a brow. 'Oh, is Percy coming?' she asked tartly, smirking as Bill's ears started to redden.

'OK, all of my brothers who are on speaking terms with me, then. And last time I checked, Ron was still on that list. Drop it, Hermione,' he added as she still tried to make her feelings heard. 'I could say a few things about the hens' night you're going to but I won't. I'll just bid you good luck, have fun and goodbye.' He glanced meaningfully towards the exit.

'This night of chickens you are attending,' Baghan purred; Ron snorted into his Butterbeer. 'You will be seeing the bride, correct?'

Hermione nodded.

Baghan reached into his robes. 'Then, if you would be so kind, would you please give her this, with my blessing.' He handed Hermione a small glass bottle full of gold liquid.

'What is it?' Hermione looked at it curiously.

'Egyptian kohl.'

Hermione gasped as she gazed up at Bill's friend.

'I thought coal was black, like soot.' Ron was frowning at the bottle.

'Not coal, Ron. Kohl! K-O-H-L. It's the stuff the ancient Egyptians used to outline their eyes with. You see it all the time in their pictures.'

'What, the stuff that makes them look like they've got too much mascara on?' Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

'But it's still black. This stuff is yellow.' Ron sounded like he didn't think Hermione was playing with a full set of gobstones.

'That,' Baghan silky voice resonated again, 'is because this is gold kohl. Very rare. Guaranteed to make even the most ordinary woman as beautiful as a goddess.'

'Oh,' Hermione breathed. 'Fleur will love it.'

'Then I look forward to seeing her eyes shine as bright as gold at the wedding tomorrow.' He took Hermione's hand again. 'It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Hermione. May you have much enjoyment and merriment tonight.' Harry noticed that Hermione was breathing funny as Baghan planted yet another kiss on her hand.

Right after Hermione left to return to the Burrow, Harry rented a couple of rooms from Tom so he and Ron could get some sleep in preparation for the long night ahead of them but, once he knew Ron was safely in his room, Harry locked the door of his own room and took out his remaining candles. Lighting one, he wished that Hogwarts would stay open. A second candle saw him wish that nobody would have sore heads tomorrow as a result of tonight. And the third …

'I wish the Mirror of Erised was in this room for one hour.'

Setting the hourglass he had bought in Diagon Alley earlier that day on the floor next to the Mirror, Harry sat down to enjoy some precious time with his long-dead family.

x

'Great party, don't you think?' Fred passed Harry a tankard of Madam Rosmerta's finest mead.

Harry glanced around the Leaky Cauldron, which was full of countless people, taking in all the noise and laughter. Ron was trying to do a hula dance for a hat stand over in the corner and Harry wondered, briefly, if the twins hadn't, perhaps, slipped him something.

'Pity the strongest stuff here is this mead,' Fred continued. 'Some Firewhisky would go down perfectly at a do like this. Can't understand why Bill and Charlie are being so unadventurous.'

Harry flushed guiltily. 'Er … I think that one might be my fault,' he admitted, staring at the counter he was leaning against.

'How?' Fred frowned at him.

'I used one of my birthday candles to wish that nobody would have a sore head tomorrow as a result of tonight. I meant it to mean that we could get roaring drunk and not have hangovers in the morning, but it looks like the candle took it to mean that there wouldn't be anything here to get us roaring drunk in the first place.' He grinned sheepishly. 'I'm sorry.'

Fred waved his twin over. 'You're never going to guess what Harry did.'

'You're joking,' George exclaimed when Fred had finished telling the story.

Harry shook his head.

'Well, you can jolly well wish that wish undone.' said George indignantly.

'I can't,' Harry explained. 'I've only got one candle left and I want to use that for Bill and Fleur's wedding present.'

'You'd better hurry up then.' Fred glanced at the clock behind the bar. 'It's almost seven fifty. Doesn't the twenty-four hours run out at seven fifty-three?'

'Yes.' Harry put his drink down on the bar. 'Be back in a minute.' With difficulty, he fought his way through the throng to the man of the moment. 'Bill, can I have a word with you a second? In private?'

'Sure,' Bill was about to start sculling the yard of Butterbeer Charlie and Baghan were forcing onto him. 'Be with you in a couple of minutes.'

'No, now!' Harry stressed. He took out the last candle and held it up for the best man to see. 'Please, Charlie; this can't wait.'

Charlie blinked at Harry uncomprehendingly for a moment, then realisation dawned. He checked his watch. 'Oh, yeah, I suppose this is your last chance, isn't it? Righto, old chap.' He hauled his brother into a more upright position. 'You're needed elsewhere.'

Half carrying, half dragging, Charlie maneuvered his older brother through the crowd until they were clear.

'I can walk on my own, thanks, Charlie,' Bill tried to fight his way out of his brother's grip only to promptly fall down.

'Come on.' Fred and George added their hands to the cause so that, between them, they managed to get Bill down the hall to the back office with eighty-two seconds to spare.

'OK, Harry,' George shut the door behind them. 'You're on.'

'Bill,' said Harry, 'this is my wedding present to both you and Fleur.'

Bill frowned in puzzlement as Harry lit the candle.

'I wish that the next forty-eight hours will be perfect for Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour-soon-to-be-Weasley.'

He glanced around at the others. 'Do you think that should cover it properly?'

'Oh, definitely, mate,' said Fred, impressed, as the candle sputtered and died. He reached for the extinguished ball of wax and began to examine it. 'Reckon these might be worth stocking?'

His twin nodded. 'Yeah, might be. Though I think we'd be better off if we made our own and set them up so they work like Harry's. Only intangible wishes. Teaches people to value the little things in life, like time spent with family, that sort of thing.' He turned as a cheer echoed down the hall from the dining room.

'Hello,' Charlie jumped up. 'Sounds like the dancing girls are here.'

'Dancing girls?' Harry glanced around at them uncertainly.

'What sort of best man do you think I would be if I didn't book dancing girls for my brother's stag party. It's almost mandatory.'

Still unsure, Harry followed the Weasley men back down the passageway.

'You didn't,' he breathed as he saw a dozen of the most beautiful women in the world glide into view, moon-bright skin shining in the candlelight, white-gold hair fanning behind them even though there was no wind. Sticking his fingers into his ears as the Veela began to dance, Harry grinned widely, glad that Hermione couldn't see Ron's face at that moment.