CHAPTER TWELVE: BIRTHDAY, BACKLASH AND BEYOND
Harry's seventeenth birthday seemed to arrive without incident. At least that's what he believed when he made his way downstairs to the common room Thursday morning. He was reading through the list of reference books they'd compiled the day before, trying to decide which ones he would start perusing today. He wasn't really paying attention to where he was walking and narrowly missed colliding with Dobby, who'd been standing quietly at the base of the stairs.
"Happy Birthday, Harry Potter, sir," squealed the house-elf, with his big round eyes shining with excitement.
"Hi, Dobby. Thanks," said Harry.
"Dobby was just setting up breakfast, sir. Dobby was going to bring your gifts upstairs, but since Harry Potter is awake, he can open them in here," exclaimed Dobby.
"What gifts? I already…" began Harry, but stopped short when he saw the pile of items Dobby had placed on a nearby table.
"Here, Harry Potter, open this one first," said Dobby gleefully. "It is from Dobby, sir."
It would be useless to tell Dobby he did not need to give him gifts, so Harry put down the list and accepted the package, already guessing at what it contained. Sure enough, he unwrapped it and found a pair of mismatched socks, made by Dobby, of course. One sock was yellow, with little images of birthday cakes sewn on them; the other, in bright purple, was adorned in tiny presents and streamers.
"Do you like them, sir?" asked Dobby.
"I do, Dobby," answered Harry. "Thank you."
"Harry Potter is most welcome, sir."
"See you later, Dobby," said Harry as the house elf waved and disappeared on the spot.
Harry peered at the other packages on the table. One was a badly wrapped, and as Harry inspected it closely, peculiar smelling package. He knew immediately that it was from Kreacher. The feeble and batty house elf was probably lurking about in the kitchens below. Dobby had not mentioned him and Harry had hardly given any thought to the Black family house-elf. He'd have to remember to inquire with Dobby and make sure Kreacher was staying out of trouble. In the meantime, Harry had no intention of repeating the gift fiasco from last Christmas. Opening anything from Kreacher would be foolish. He simply pulled his wand and with a silent banishing spell, sent whatever was in the package soaring into a wastebasket across the room.
There were two other large packages on the table. A very colorful card was taped to the top of one of them, and Harry immediately recognized Hagrid's writing. He opened the card and smiled as he read:
Happy Birthday Harry,
Hard to believe that it was six years ago when I came to bring you your Hogwarts letter.
A whole lot has happened since then. Your mum and dad would be proud of you.
Anyhow, I made this for you and I hope you like it. Come down to the cabin and I'll show you how to use it. And one more thing, Fang and I were hoping to come and have dinner with you, Ron and Hermione tonight. Let us know if it's all right.
Hagrid
Harry slowly opened the package and said, "Wow," to the empty room.
Hagrid had given him an impressively carved archery bow, complete with a set of hand-tooled arrows and a quiver. He'd put a lot of time and effort into making this and Harry was sincerely moved.
The last box was rather heavy. Harry reached for the folded card affixed to it and found it was from Dumbledore. This note was quite short:
Harry,
Again, if you are reading this, then I obviously have no further need of this particular item. You have always had a certain affinity for it anyway, and I suspect now more than ever, you may find great use for it.
Happy Birthday,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry opened the box and to his great amazement, found it contained Dumbledore's Pensieve. He ran a hand around the outer rim of the cool, stone basin and remembered his last trip into its depths with Dumbledore.
Lost in thought, he had not immediately noticed that the table also held a rather thick envelope. Spotting it, he reached past the unwrapped Pensieve and read the envelope. It was addressed to Mr. Harry Potter, in care of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only the Order was supposed to know he was here. How had this reached him? He turned the envelope over and saw the wax seal from Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Baffled at what this could possibly be about, Harry opened the envelope and unfolded a very official looking letter.
Mr. Harry Potter,
This is to inform you that as you are officially of age as of midnight today, the thirty-first of July, 1997, you are hereby granted unabridged access to and control of the inheritance bequeathed to you in accordance with the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter, executed upon their death on the thirty-first of October, 1981.
As Executor of estate #768837, Gringotts Wizarding Bank has consistently provided monthly maintenance allowances and accrued interest to you, in concert with the terms outlined in said will and resulting trust (Refer to enclosed Exhibits A and B).
As of today, the full value of the estate stands at 1,081,263 Galleons. (Refer to enclosed Exhibit C for a complete listing of assets and holdings).
Representatives of Gringotts Wizarding Bank look forward to serving all your future pecuniary needs. Please do contact us at your earliest convenience to discuss any questions or concerns you may have.
Sincerely,
Griphook
Assets Management
Harry was beyond stunned. He managed the calculation in his head and concluded that he'd just inherited more money than the Dursleys could ever dream of spending. He read the letter again. So, the money that he'd been withdrawing over the last six years had only been accrued interest and monthly stipends. He knew his father had inherited money from Harry's grandparents, but he'd never really known how much and certainly did not know how the Potter fortune had been amassed. Harry also had a second inheritance left to him by Sirius.
"Unbelievable," he said aloud.
He knew there'd be no way he'd ever spend all of it in one lifetime. What would he do with it? Harry had enough things running through his head at the moment. This one would have to wait. He made a mental note to contact Bill Weasley later. In the meantime, he tucked the letter in the very bottom of the package from Hagrid for safekeeping until he could move it to his trunk.
He'd been gathering discarded wrapping paper when he heard footsteps and turned to see Hermione coming downstairs.
"Good morning, Harry. Happy Birthday."
"Good morning, Hermione. Thanks," he replied.
"I sent a little wake me up surprise to Ron. He should…"she began.
Whatever else Hermione was saying was drowned out by the sound of Ron yelling from upstairs. He came barreling down the staircase, his hair dripping wet and slicked to his head and his pajama top drenched.
Harry and Hermione burst into fits of laughter.
"I guess I don't have to guess which one of you thought it'd be funny to have the water pitcher hover and tip over my head," he said irritably.
"Well, I thought you might like to come down and wish Harry a happy birthday before the day is over," she replied.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Ron as he wiped dripping water from his face. "I guess now that I'm washed, I'll just run back up and get dressed," he added with a scowl at Hermione as he retreated back up to the dormitory.
Following breakfast, Harry showed Ron and Hermione the bow and arrow set from Hagrid, as well as Dumbledore's Pensieve. Ron was quite impressed with Hagrid's craftsmanship and Hermione was of course, fascinated by the runes etched on the basin.
"Can I come with you when Hagrid teaches you how to use it?" asked Ron.
"Of course," answered Harry. "Listen, you two can head to the library. I'm going to run up and put these away and meet you there."
"Okay," replied Hermione. "And don't forget to send Hedwig with a reply to Hagrid about dinner tonight."
"Right," said Harry, as he cast a hover charm and floated the boxes upstairs ahead of himself. See you in a few minutes."
About fifteen minutes later, Harry joined his friends in the library and cringed when he saw the size of the books Hermione and Ron had already stacked in the center of a long table.
"Harry, I pulled these for you," said Hermione as she pushed three huge volumes towards him.
Harry read the titles on the spine and saw that they were indeed among the ones he was interested in starting with this morning:
Helga Hufflepuff: From Wales to Hogwarts
The Heart of Helga Hufflepuff
A History of Hufflepuff House"Thanks," said Harry, slowly.
"Is something wrong? Those are on our list, aren't they?"
"Sorry, no, these are definitely on this list," replied Harry. "I've just been thinking more about that memory Dumbledore extracted from Hokey; and honestly, Voldemort's reaction to it."
"You still think it's the cup, don't you?" asked Ron.
"Absolutely," replied Harry. "I've been thinking about it most of the morning, and the more I do, the less I believe there could potentially be a second Hufflepuff relic or even a second Ravenclaw relic, for that matter. I mean it makes since Voldemort would relish having two Slytherin relics since he is a direct descendant. But of the other founders, one relic from each would have completed his collection."
"How can you really know?" asked Hermione.
"It's hard to explain. I mean it's more about getting into Voldemort's head. My gut tells me he hadn't originally planned to use that ring as a Horcrux. He valued that above everything, enough to want to keep it. He was wearing it while he was still a student here. No, I think he reluctantly turned it into a Horcrux when he failed to secure a Gryffindor relic. I'm guessing he'd managed to track down something of Ravenclaw's and we know he already had Hufflepuff's cup, so he wouldn't have wanted anything else of hers."
"Okay," said Hermione, "that makes sense. The Horcruxes had to represent things he thought important. So four from the Hogwarts founders, the diary because it was an incredible bit of student magic and a testament to his growing power, and finally Nagini, because it is the only living creature for which he's ever had an ounce of affinity."
"That's pretty much it, yeah," remarked Harry.
"Sorry, but does that mean you are or aren't going to research Hufflepuff?" asked Ron.
"Oh, I definitely am. I still have no idea where the cup could be. Voldemort could have hidden it somewhere significant to him; but he also could have chosen somewhere significant to Hufflepuff or her descendants. And that, I'm afraid," said Harry as he looked at the pile of books, "could be almost anywhere."
For the next ten hours, the trio worked in comfortable silence. The only sounds were of quills on parchment, sighs of fatigue and chairs scraping back from the table when each needed to take short breaks and shake the cobwebs from their minds.
Ron came back from one such break with a tray of sandwiches he'd pilfered from the kitchens. Madame Pince would have thrown a fit if she had any inkling that students would dare eat in her library; but they didn't want to lose their momentum, so they ate carefully around the growing piles of books and notes.
"There yer are," came a booming voice from the library doorway.
It was Hagrid. They had completely forgotten the time and their plans to meet him for dinner.
"Sorry, Hagrid," said Harry.
"Are yer lot okay? You look really tired," commented Hagrid.
"We're fine, Hagrid," said Ron.
"What are yer working on? School doesn't start for a month," remarked Hagrid.
"Oh, I thought it would be a good idea to get an early start on preparing for our N.E.W.T.s," lied Hermione.
Hagrid was looking at them suspiciously, but Harry distracted him before he could comment further or ask any more questions.
"Just give us twenty minutes to clean up and we'll meet you at the portrait hole," said Harry. "Where's Fang?"
"He's downstairs in the entrance hall. I guess I'll go and get him."
"Okay," the trio chimed together as Hagrid left.
Harry, Ron and Hermione waved their wands and sent every book flying back to their proper shelf spaces, grabbed their notes and hurried back to the common room. Dobby had already set up dinner at a table near the fireplace and strung birthday decorations, as well.
Hermione stayed downstairs to admit Hagrid and Fang. Harry and Ron made a quick trip upstairs to toss all their notes into Ron's trunk. They'd been back in the common room only moments when Hermione opened the portrait hole and stepped back to allow Hagrid to enter with Fang close behind.
Fang's excitement was uncontainable. He bounded across the room and launched himself at Harry, nearly knocking the wind out of him and trying desperately to lick at his face. Harry laughed and petted the huge boarhound and scratched behind his ears.
"Hi, boy," he said. "It's good to see you, too," said Harry.
Fang barked once and left Harry's side to turn his attention to Ron. Ron was still standing at the base of the staircase and when Fang barreled into him, he found himself knocked to a sitting position on the staircase. Fang had a clear shot at Ron's face and wasted no time slobbering at his ears.
Hermione laughed and Fang took one look at her, as if trying to figure out how he'd missed her when he entered. The dog tore back across the room, and to everyone's amazement, skidded into a stop in front of Hermione, and simply looked up at her with anticipation. His body was quivering and his tail was thumping a mile a minute, but he did not bounce.
"Good boy," said Hermione as she bent forward and lavished pets and praise upon the enormous dog's head.
"Figures," mumbled Ron under his breath as he wiped at his face.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Hagrid and pulled a cake box from behind his back. "I made this for yer," he added.
Harry took the box and opened it to find a cake, almost identical to the first one he'd ever gotten. Hagrid had made that one, as well.
"Thanks, Hagrid," he said. "And thanks for the bow and arrow set. It's incredible. I can't wait for you to show me how to use it."
"Yer liked it, then. Good. I expect yer will pick it up quick," he said. Why don't yer come down to the cabin tomorrow afternoon and we can try it out."
Harry didn't know how to tell Hagrid his afternoons would be full without raising his suspicions or hurting his feelings. Hermione seemed to sense his dilemma.
"Yeah, Harry, that sounds like fun. Ron can go with you. I know you two don't want to spend every day of the remaining holidays locked up in the library with me," she said.
Harry looked at her and seemed to be able to read her mind. He could spare a few hours each week to spend with Hagrid, especially if it gave the impression that things were perfectly normal. They didn't need anyone commenting on anything that seemed out of norm.
"Okay, how's two o'clock?" asked Harry.
"Fang and I'll be waiting for yer," answered Hagrid happily.
Over the next few weeks, the friends fell into a well-established routine. They were usually in the library by eight in the morning worked straight through until about one o'clock.
They'd break for a quick lunch, and twice a week, Harry would walk down to Hagrid's cabin for his archery lessons. Ron and Hermione usually accompanied him at least once. Hagrid had been right; Harry did seem to have a natural talent for it. He loved the feel of the tension in the bow when it was strung and the unmistakable sound of the arrow when it was released correctly.
By mid afternoon, they'd be back in the library and would work until dinnertime. The late evening hours were for reviewing and updating their ever-growing list of notes and information.
Harry and Hermione were finding out more and more about the two witches who'd helped establish Hogwarts. He'd had no idea there'd be so much to digest and decipher. Ron had a pretty impressive list going of any potential R.A.B.s or R.B.s. It was a monstrous task, and he'd gotten as far as the wizards with last names beginning with "Be," first names starting with "Ra."
Harry had just returned from a lesson with Hagrid late one afternoon during the start of their third week at the castle, when an echoing sound down a side corridor caught his attention. The sound grew closer and he recognized it before he saw anything. It was the sound of hooves.
Firenze rounded the corner of the corridor and came forward into the entrance hall.
"Good afternoon, Harry Potter," said the centaur. "I was wondering when I might run into you."
"Hello, Firenze. I didn't know you were here," said Harry and immediately realized how stupid that sounded.
Firenze had been banished from the Forbidden Forest by his own heard almost two years ago. Where else would he be?
"You haven't been downstairs much since you arrived, so of course, you would not have noticed me around. Aside from my quarters, I have also been spending a lot of time outdoors. I can't reenter my former home, but Hogwarts has beautiful grounds and I have spent most of the summer enjoying them."
"Still, you must miss your home," said Harry. "I wish there was some way to make things better."
"That is very kind of you," said the centaur. "I have accepted that which I cannot change, so do not worry over it. You have more than enough to contend with," he added, looking intently at Harry with his piercing blue eyes.
Harry looked back at the centaur but did not comment. Firenze broke the silence.
"You seem different, Harry Potter," he said simply.
"Do I?" said Harry. "How?"
"I suspect you know the answer to that better than I," replied the centaur.
Harry found this an odd answer, but decided to leave it alone.
"Are you all set for lessons this term?" asked Harry, trying to change the subject.
"There isn't very much for me to do," answered Firenze. "As I've said before, humans are usually ill adept at true Divination. I do, however, have an interesting assignment for this term."
"Oh, that's good," said Harry. "I hope it goes well."
'That is my hope, also. We shall see. Good afternoon, Harry Potter," replied the centaur and he turned to canter slowly back down the corridor.
"Well, that was strange," Harry thought to himself as he headed for the staircase. He'd gone only a few feet when he heard his name called. He turned and saw Moody closing the door to the main entrance.
"There you are, Potter. Hagrid said you'd gone back up to the castle. I'm glad I caught you before you got up to the library."
"Hi, Moody," said Harry. "What's going on?"
"Go grab young Weasley and Miss Granger and meet me in Minerva's office," he said.
Harry dashed to the library and he, Ron and Hermione were knocking on the door atop the winding staircase within minutes.
"Come in," came Moody's gruff voice.
They opened the door and stepped inside. Professor McGonagall wasn't present, but Moody was seated behind her desk.
"Have a seat," he said, conjuring a third chair for them.
"Is anything wrong?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah, You-Know-Who's out in the world," said Moody. "Aside from that, it was time to give you an update on what's been going on."
"Okay," they answered together.
"As you know, the start of school term letters went out days after you arrived. Everything remained quiet for a while, but we now know that information has reached You-Know-Who and his band of Death Eaters."
"How can you be sure?" asked Ron.
"Because two of the school governors were ambushed and killed this week. I guess the Dark Lord was displeased when he heard Hogwarts would reopen," said Moody.
"Oh no," gasped Hermione.
"How?" asked Ron.
"We knew they'd be likely targets and the Ministry offered each of them protection. Of the two killed, one was foolish enough to believe he didn't need security. The other was guarded by an Auror, but they got to him and his guard," explained Moody.
Harry had been listening to all of it, but he hadn't moved a muscle or made a sound. Moody glanced at him before continuing.
"Things are going to get much more intense. When they can't find you, they are going to get desperate and attempt to make a grab for you before they think you'll reach Hogwarts, obviously on the first day of term."
Harry blinked once and nodded ever so slightly, but still said nothing.
"The Ministry Aurors will be handling security at King's Cross Station and aboard the Hogwarts Express. They've got help coming from the U.S. through Kingsley's father, as well as aid from some other contingents. Once the train reaches Hogsmeade, we'll be loading students on the Knight Bus, which will be staffed and guarded by Aurors and Order members. Some parents will insist on transporting their own children, and if they do so, they will get no farther than Hogsmeade. Final transport to Hogwarts will be controlled on the Knight Bus."
"Moody," began Ron, "is there any way…"
"Don't worry, Weasley. Ginny will be escorted under separate cover by one of us. She'll arrive well in advance of the others sometime that morning."
"And when Voldemort realizes I'm not part of the transport and that I'm safely inside this castle, what happens?" Harry finally asked, his voice strained, even to his own ears.
Moody looked at him quite seriously before answering, "All hell will break loose and we will act and react accordingly."
Hermione winced and Ron's brow furrowed. Harry's eyes seemed to have darkened. It was like looking at a field of grass artificially colored by rolling storm clouds.
"Weasley and Granger, give me a moment alone with Potter, please."
"Yeah, sure," said Ron, getting to his feet as Hermione did the same.
"We'll wait for you in the common room, Harry," said Hermione as they left the office and pulled the door shut.
"Okay, Potter, let's get some things straight," began Moody. "There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop anything going on outside these walls. This is war, and it is likely to get a whole lot worse. It'll be long and hard and ugly. It was the last time and I hold no illusions that it will be different this time."
"But if I…" began Harry, but Moody cut him off.
"If you do what, Potter? Run out and get yourself slaughtered? Turn yourself over to the Dark Lord? Give up on what you and Dumbledore set out to do? If you do any of those things, You-Know-Who still wins. I don't know what all you've got going, but I do know, whatever it is, you're only going to get one shot at it. Am I right?"
"Most likely," answered Harry.
"Well then, make it count. Finish what you have to and do what you have to. It will take as long as it takes, and there's nothing we can do about that. The Order and the Ministry will fight it and contain it as long as possible. It's what we do. You just do what you need to do. Whoever is left standing will be waiting for you when you're ready. Understand me, son?"
Harry looked into Moody's harsh and mangled face and knew every word he'd spoken was the cold, hard truth.
"Perfectly," he said and stood to leave. "And Moody, in case I don't get to say this later, thank you."