FOUR

Unsurprisingly Harry was left alone after that, and settled in to finishing his essay. He wrote the concluding line just after six, so cleaned up and headed down to set the table. He had heard Vernon get home about ten minutes earlier, however Petunia had obviously been putting off telling Vernon he was back, no doubt expecting Harry to be late down. Vernon did not look happy.

The argument about Apep was long and loud, but mostly one-sided. Harry ignored the spittle from Vernon's yelling, and proceeded to frustrate his Uncle further by replying in a calm, unfazed manner. The argument had been ended, surprisingly, by Dudley, who said Piers thought snakes were cool, and complained that the dinner was getting cold while they argued. Petunia's fussing over Dudley drowned out any further arguments, and though Uncle Vernon said in a menacing tone that they would discuss it later, Harry could see he had already won. During the whole affair about his snake, the fact that Harry had returned remained completely un-commented on. Harry topped up the whole experience when Vernon demanded Harry pull his weight after dinner by fixing the light in the pantry. Harry calmly pulled out his wand and cast Lumos to get a better look.

Lumos had, unbeknownst to the Dursleys, been deemed outside the restriction of Underage Sorcery by the Wizengamot during the muggle world war. A young half-blood with excellent magical connections had fought a case and won, because he claimed that the muggles would just think it was a fancy flashlight. Unfortunately, without knowing about this, it just appeared to them that Harry had done magic outside of school and not got in trouble at all. Dudley's 'Cool' had only turned Vernon's already red face that extra shade darker.

Harry headed back up to his room with a smug grin.

Logically he knew he had a massive advantage over the Dursley's, however he couldn't help himself. He may be going on thirty, however the extra maturity didn't make returning to the Dursley's any easier than it had been when he was thirteen. The wards on the house were still charging much faster than Harry originally calculated, as despite Harry's supposedly newfound confidence and backchat, it still wasn't as traumatizing as Ron Weasley trying to call them on the telephone. Harry now knew that Vernon's company paid for his phone bills (as Vernon was supposed to be on call 24/7), and could plausibly be tracked through the same. Harry highly doubted anyone would bother listening to the Dursley's phone conversations, but he did understand the reaction a little more. Actually, and despite the arguments, Harry and the Dursleys were probably getting on better than they ever had. Although that might be tested now Petunia knew about Apep.

Pushing aside any guilt or worry over his familial relationships for a later date Harry returned to his room. His history essay had actually been his last, so he pulled out his other distraction. This would need quite a large turn around. Spreading the parchments out on his desk he had in front of him pages and pages of notes on Azkaban; it's history, the legal proceedings surrounding a visit (whether social, guard or prisoner), the plans (roughly from memory on Auror duty), a list of names (incomplete) of the people currently in power over the fortress, six whole eight-foot rolls on Dementors and patroni, charts of star and planet alignments for strength of magic in coordination with the particular ley line Azkaban sat over, and lastly (with the thickest file) Sirius Black.

Harry stretched a bit after laying all his work out, then frowned. He very much doubted that anyone else in living history had studied the prison more. He also knew quite a bit about his Godfather. But he was at a loss.

Harry reached forward and sifted through a bulldog clip of newspaper clippings until he found one of the most recent.

The Weasley family smiled up at him from Egypt. Molly and Arthur looked ecstatic waving from either side of Ginny, surrounded by their boys. Bill was grinning, his arm over (a sunburnt and squirming) Charlie's shoulders. Percy had his badge prominently showing, and the twins were wearing striped robes that even managed to look garish in Black and White and were pulling faces behind their brother's back.

Ron Weasley grinned up at him… his shoulder bare.

There was no rat.

Peter Pettigrew was currently emulating a stone in a hidden corridor of the equally hidden chamber of secrets. If it had held, he was under Fidelius too.

But Sirius had broken free.

Harry had to consciously pry his finders from the article when it began to shake so badly in his hands that the Weasleys in the photo began to get ill. Everything was spiraling. He kept getting ahead of himself, but caused lagging in the same movement. Enough had happened that he had settled on the theory that the timeline would do it's best to follow the same path, but enough changed that he couldn't be sure. In a strange way, taking Peter out of the Weasley equation had given him a swell of satisfaction. He had thought he was in control. He had thought he was making a difference.

Now he wasn't so sure at all.

He was angry… and he was angry at himself for being angry. Sirius was free, he should be happy he hadn't caused his Godfather a longer suffering in Azkaban! But every time he thought about it he couldn't help but think of the death toll at the end of the war. He couldn't help but remember his life falling apart and most of his closest friends suffering. If the timeline was just going to follow the same path no matter what, then why did he even bother?

Harry threw the pile of articles at his desk in frustration. He was angry, and confused, and frustrated and tired and hurt.

And all of the research he had done was practically useless.

With a heavy sigh Harry slumped into the broken chair at his desk. He shut his eyes and just breathed. By default he strengthened his Occlumency barriers, purposely pulling up his strongest mask and shutting away all emotions. Only when he was calm did he open his eyes.

Sirius was free. That was all that really mattered for now. He would just have to deal with later, well… later.

Harry pulled out the shrinkable briefcase he had bought in Diagon alley and packed all his notes away. With a yawn he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table. It was one o'clock in the morning. Harry's stomach gave a funny jolt and he got a strong sense of déjà vu. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour… again.

Harry stared out the window and thought back to this time in the original timeline. He remembered thinking this was one of the first birthdays he was actually looking forward to. He also remembered thinking how well he was doing having made it to thirteen after facing Voldemort again at the end of second year. His face turned to a scowl.

Following his old routine, Harry stepped over to the open window and gazed absently over the rooftops, not really expecting to see anything. It was a few seconds before Harry realized he was actually seeing what he was, and not just remembering it.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction. He strained his eyes trying to make out why the owls were joined together like last time, watching them sink lower and lower over the rooftops. As the bizarre group soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive Harry had another strong sense of déjà vu, and for a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether or not to slam it shut. This time it was because he didn't recognize any of the owls.

Right as his fingers reached out for the window however the owls passed under a light again, and with a surprised laugh that he quickly stifled, Harry recognized Hadwin at the back, and Errol. Harry stepped aside as the owls reached his window and flew in. They landed with a soft flump on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was no package tied to Errol's leg, but even the envelope seemed to have been too much.

With only a second's hesitancy, Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the letter, and then carried Errol to Hadwin's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water. Cautiously Harry looked over the letter in his hand. He didn't recognize the messy scrawl, but then, he would probably only know Ron, Ginny or Bill's. With a slight shrug Harry broke open the seal figuring that after the end of last year the letter was highly unlikely to be negative.

Harry's eyes skimmed over the page he unfolded and he raised an eyebrow in a bit of shock. The Weasley twins send him a birthday letter - a total surprise.

We were going to buy you a gift,

(The letter started mid thought with no introduction)

but our pocket monkey got confiscated after we tried to lock Percy in the last Pyramid. We thought it was an excellent idea but for some reason the new Head Boy didn't agree. He's Head Boy of course. It's an insult to our family, but we suppose we'll have to bare it. (We have a running tally going and have cursed his badge six times in as many days. Dad had a go at us but Bill helped us out, so there is a small chance that Percy might turn out okay. Bill did).

Bill is our eldest brother by the way, and by far the coolest. A cursebreaker - If we didn't like pranking so much we'd have followed him. His profession is breaking in to places to find treasure - he's a cursebreaker. Mum was devastated that he didn't pick something more respectable, but it's just her way of showing her love. At least that's what Bill has to tell himself when he wakes up in the middle of the night and finds mum standing over him with a pair of sharp scissors. She claims she just wanted to fix his hair.

Anyway, we have to run. Dad's taking us to the markets one more time before we leave and there is a much bigger chance of suckering him into giving our pocket money back.

Gred and Forge Weasel-bee.

P.S. Oh, right. Happy Birthday.

P.P.S. We hope it's okay writing to you? Mum started making a fuss after Ron mentioned that you probably had no friends being a slimy snake. He mentions you a lot by the way (Is it love? Ha). He is mostly complaining, but that thing last year shook him up. If he won't thank you we will. Despite his freckles we appreciate keeping our brother.

Harry couldn't help but laugh quietly at the twin's erratic behavior, even through letter. It's lucky he already knew their history or he would have been very confused. Harry felt his mood lifting quite a bit. It was nice knowing the twins liked him enough to send a note and think about a gift. Harry pushed the tiny but snide voice at the back of his head pointing out how much it hurt that he didn't get one from Ron.

Trying to stay in a positive mood, Harry put the letter on his desk then turned to the next owl. It was a vicious looking eagle owl, and the fact that it too was well past its prime, didn't diminish its intimidating air in the slightest. It made an impatient noise as Harry took its letter, but didn't fly off. Harry curiously turned over the fine parchment envelope and slid it open too.

The Longbottom family crest greeted Harry at the top of the page, and Neville's friendly handwriting followed below.

Harry,

Happy Birthday to you too! And thank you so much for the journals!

Gran had a go at me for not thinking to order something for you by owl post, but I didn't even know when your birthday was. It's cool that ours are so close together. At any rate, Gran said you wouldn't like the seedlings I was going to send you, but I think you'll like them so I'll give them to you at school. She is generally pretty good about my gardening, but she's been grumpy lately. I think it's because Dumbledore keeps visiting. I haven't been included (and my spying attempts went dismally) but I know Gran gets grumpier after every visit. I'll be glad when school starts back again. I'm probably the only person who thinks so. Well… except for Hermione. She's in France! She visited La route des Decouvertes in Lyon. It sounds like she enjoyed it a lot, but apparently she re-wrote her History essay to include some history she learnt there. Re-wrote! I haven't even started mine! Although I'm probably talking to the wrong person about this - no doubt you finished all of your homework early like Gran was nagging me to do.

Anyway, I am running out of parchment and I don't want to have to ask for another sheet, so I'll finish here. Thanks again for the gift, and have a great birthday too! I'll see you on the express in a month, if I don't see you sooner.

Neville

Again, Harry felt a spike of anger in between the laughs.

.:Dumbledore is still pushing it, it seems:. Harry sighed to Apep, who had slid up Harry's leg while he was reading.

.:You said he would:.

Harry nodded .:Yes. But I hoped he wouldn't:.

It disgusted Harry, although upon reflection over the last few weeks away from Dumbledore, Harry realised that it wasn't really up to Dumbledore anyway. It was up to Voldemort, and while Neville had been a child of the prophecy, Voldemort had chosen Harry. If there was one thing he knew about Voldemort, it was that he was stubborn. Harry would need to be dealt with before he worried about Neville, regardless of how it was positioned.

It didn't stop Harry from moving his revenge plans forward a bit.

Shaking himself off (he refused to think of Dumbledore on his birthday!), Harry turned to Hadwin, who was waiting patiently on Harry's headboard. Harry stuck out his arm, and Hadwin wearily flew over to him and stuck out a leg, eyes glued to Apep.

A smile graced Harry's face again, knowing his owl trusted him enough to get within a foot of a nearly nine foot snake.

Attached to Hadwin's leg was Harry's only parcel. Once up close, Harry was almost certain he recognized it.

Careful to tear the parcel from just the one side, sure enough the handsome, green cover with gold casing and a furry spine. Harry was so shocked that The Monster Book of Monsters managed to break free of the wrapping and out of Harry's hand. It landed with a thump and a growl, then flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.

Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous, and hated himself a little for immediately wondering if Hagrid sent the book because it might hurt Harry. Harry was rather ashamed of himself and picked up the note a bit reluctantly.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

Think you might find this useful for next year.

Won't say no more here. Slytherins are meant to be good at guessing.

Hope the Muggles are treating you right.

All the best,

Hagrid

Right as Harry's shame spiral was getting depressingly large the book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Glad for the distraction, Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.

'Ouch!'

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door. Harry glared at the wall, and briefly considered just letting the book go again, thoroughly enjoying the mental image of Petunia finding the book lurking in the dark corners of the house. Harry's smirk grew as he remembered Aunt Marge's approaching visit. For now, however, Harry stroked the spine and the book went limp in his arms.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel, making it a run of three for each birthday letter. But seeing as it was his Birthday, and they generally managed to go pear shaped all on their own, Harry shrugged away the negative thoughts and focused on the positive.

Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.

The school owl didn't seem nearly so calm about going near the snake that wrapped around Harry, but it's professional pride seemed to stop it from outright fleeing. It took a few turns of shuffling away every time Harry got within reach before it finally seemed to build up the courage and held out it's leg. Harry had never seen an owl lean so far away from it's own limb before. Apep lazily opened an eye, before returning to his snooze around Harry's shoulders. He was well enough fed, and also had informed Harry in first year that Owls had too many feathers for his liking anyway.

The second Harry untied the letter the school owl took flight and was out the window. Harry was left holding the thickest envelope he had ever received from the school. And that included the essay he had received from McGonagall after the war begging Harry to come and finish his schooling. He never had admitted he had planned to from the start, and had got quite a few boons from the false-debate.

Harry knew that this year his letter would include a Hogsmead permission slip, but he opened the envelope with great curiosity. Harry ignored the book list and the slip for the remaining parchment.

The first note explained the rest to Harry, and the smirk that spread over Harry's face could have made Voldemort shudder.

Potter. Despite my hesitations, you were quite correct in your assumptions. Miss Granger is no doubt going to be neck deep in paperwork this year. I will expect you to maintain higher standards of organization. We shall discuss these matters more upon you reaching the school. Don't expect to see the sorting.

S.S

With a gurgled laugh Harry noted that the remaining piles of paperwork were a detailed and graphic list of wizards who had ended in disaster after messing with time. After a quick look at the book list, Harry put the permission slip and it to one side, then proceeded to take the list to bed for a bit of light reading. He wondered what Snape would say if he told him he was already well acquainted with the art of temporal shifting.

Harry went to sleep with a smile on his face.