I didn't sleep at all that night. Mia and Luke hadn't even realised I'd been out, Chester was still sleeping, and Rosie – Luke and Mia's eighteenth month old daughter – was sat in her cot, her wide hazel eyes watching me as I snuck back in.
"Hey, Rosie," I breathed, smiling shakily as I hurriedly covered my arm up. She giggled from where she was sat, holding her arms out toward me. "You want a hug, sweetie?" Stepping through the door, I moved toward her cot and hauled her into my arms, holding her close. Immediately, she buried her face in my hair as she always did, curling her tiny hands into the mass of mahogany curls.
In the end, I sat in the chair in the corner of the room with her on my lap, telling her everything. Of course, she didn't understand a word I was saying, but that was half the point. I'd found since I'd got back from Hogwarts, I was doing it a lot. She was a great listener. So long as I was braiding her blonde hair, or bouncing her on my knee, she was happy.
At some point, I must have dozed off, because the next thing I could remember was Mia shaking me awake with a soft voice. "Arty? Arty honey, wake up." I could feel her hands shaking my shoulders, and I groaned, my eyelids fluttering open.
I was still sat in the chair in Rosie's room, with the little girl herself curled up into my stomach, sleeping soundly. Mia was knelt by the chair, beaming from me to her daughter. She was a reasonably tall woman, with messy blonde hair and sparkling grey eyes. Her face was sharp and elegant, her skin lightly tanned. Today, she was dressed in a simple, pale grey summer dress and small heels, with a stunning crystal slide pinning one side of her hair back.
"Hey, sleepy," she smiled softly at me. "What are you doing in here? Luke told me you were okay."
"I am," I rushed, trying to shift without waking Rosie. "I just couldn't sleep and Rosie was awake, so I came and sat with her for a while. I hope that's okay."
"Oh, of course it is honey," Mia smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear as Rosie stirred. "Why don't you go and get some breakfast? I'll sort Rosie and be down in a minute." I nodded, smiling as I pushed myself to my feet. "Oh, and Arty? Happy birthday, sweetheart." She planted a kiss on my cheek before I could move, and I just smiled painfully as I let myself out of the room.
I didn't go back downstairs. In typical style, I'd completely forgotten about my birthday – and incidentally, Harry's birthday – and was now wishing I could crawl back into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. But Will and Evie were due to be here in an hour or two, so I had to continue like nothing had happened.
Locking myself in the bathroom, I turned the shower on so that the water was as cold as I could stand it, hoping it would work to wake me up a bit. Of course, when I pulled my jumper off – praying the tattoo was nothing but a bad dream – I was bitterly disappointed as I came face to face with the brilliant green curled pattern again. Things didn't improve when I realised it couldn't be scrubbed off either.
When I finally managed to drag myself out, I rummaged through my wardrobe for a t-shirt or jumper that would cover the tattoo. Chester was still sat on the padded beach, watching me curiously. My stomach twisting sickly, I managed to find a tight-fitting, long sleeved plain blue t-shirt. Sighing heavily, I pulled it on with a fresh pair of jeans and a thin, patterned scarf.
Downstairs, Rosie was in her highchair while Mia cooked breakfast and Luke had propped himself up at the table with this morning's Daily Prophet. On the front, a picture of a ragged looking Sirius Black stared out at me, screaming things I couldn't hear. Ignoring it and knowing Luke and Mia would only get worked up if I mentioned him, I slumped into a chair opposite Luke, pouring myself a goblet of pumpkin juice from the jug in the centre of the table.
"I thought I'd invite the family around for tea tonight, Arty," Mia called over her shoulder. "You know, for your birthday? And I know you, Will and Evie are going to the cinema this morning, but Suzie wants to take you, Evie and Sarah horse-riding again, and Dexter mentioned something about go-carting, whatever that is."
"That's a lot to do in one day, Mia," I sighed as she turned and handed me a plate piled high with sausages, scrambled egg, bacon and beans.
"I know, honey," she grimaced. "But it'll give you something to do. Keep you busy."
"Why would I need to keep busy?" I frowned, restraining the urge to scratch my arm. Mia hesitated, her eyes flicking toward Luke, who was still hiding behind the morning paper.
"You don't want to be bored on your birthday, do you?" she smiled strangely.
"Um . . . of course not," I agreed quietly, more than a little confused by the look on her face. She turned away again before I could ask her why she was acting weird, which I immediately took as a sign to keep my mouth shut. Taking a deep breath, I ate my breakfast in silence, trying not to let the way Rosie kept grabbing handfuls of her scrambled egg make me nauseous.
In the end, Will, Evie and I didn't go to the cinema, which I should have expected. Aunt Suzie arrived at our house just as I was finishing my breakfast, with her daughter Evie and niece Sarah in toe. We spent all morning at the stables about half an hour away from my house. I tried to enjoy myself, but my stomach was churning awkwardly, and every time my horse broke into anything faster than a trot, the tattoo on my forearm tingled and burned inexplicably. Grinding my teeth together, I managed to push that to the back of my head. What I couldn't restrain was the sudden bout of nausea when the woman who owned the stables tried to teach me show-jumping.
Instead of taking me home, Aunt Suzie assured me that I'd feel better as soon as I'd eaten, and we ended up driving to a Muggle restaurant she was obsessed with. Though I had to admit I did feel better afterwards, Evie didn't look impressed about being dragged there again.
After dinner, Aunt Suzie took us back to my house, where my Uncle Dexter, his wife Mary, their two sons Adam and Liam, and Evie's twin Will were waiting for us. In the end, Luke accompanied us to the go-carting track, which turned out to be a serious mistake. While we were there, he iced the floor over in front of Uncle Dexter's cart after Dexter had knocked him off at a corner. The official watching over us had apologised so many times, the words were still ringing in my ears when I walked off the track, but both Luke and Uncle Dexter had chuckled about it all afternoon, especially after Uncle Dexter used the Babbling Curse on Luke. Admittedly, it kept the rest of us amused.
Both of them were still arguing about who was to blame when we got home. "See the curse wore off then?" Uncle Dexter grinned mischievously. He was the same height as Luke, with a little more muscle, short dark hair and brown eyes that glinted as he met Luke's gaze. While Dexter was Mia's brother, he seemed a lot closer with Luke than he and Mia had ever been.
"Here we go again," Will warned Evie and me as we followed him out of Luke's car. Will and Evie were the only twins in the family, both a year old then me and already in their fourth year at Hogwarts. They both had the same, mouse brown hair as their mother, my Aunt Suzie, and the same pale grey eyes as Mia, Suzie's younger sister. Will was taller by about three inches, with carefully gelled hair and a remarkably dark tan from his travels with his father, John, though we were supposed to speak about him. Since Aunt Suzie had divorced him, neither she nor Evie wanted to see him again. I hadn't been brave enough to ask why.
"Yeah, and I doubt that guy will ever let us back there again," Luke grumbled.
"That's because you both act like children," Dexter's eldest son, Adam, smirked. He was tall, slim and intelligent, and had left Hogwarts just as I had finished my first year. He had the same dark hair as Uncle Dexter and pale green eyes inherited from his mother, Mary. His two siblings, Liam and Sarah, were considerably younger. Liam was in the same year as Will and Evie, with tatty blonde hair, a bad case of freckles, and his father's brown eyes. Sarah, on the other hand, was reasonably short, with wavy blonde hair, a light tan, elegant build and bright, chocolate brown eyes. She was in the year below Liam, Will and Evie with me in third year.
"He's got a point," I grimaced at Luke. He pulled a face at me, throwing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a one-armed hug.
Inside, the rest of the family was waiting. Aunt Suzie – tall, skinny and dressed in a sapphire blue blouse and a pencil skirt with her mouse brown hair loose around her face and hazel eyes behind stylish glasses – was propped up at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, already sipping a glass of wine. Beside her, Mia and Mary – a smaller, petite woman with blonde hair and green eyes – were locked in conversation about the start of the Hogwarts term. My grandparents – Luke's parents – stood in the background, my grandmother still fussing over the food while my grandfather was trying to explain how Muggle football was better than Quidditch to Aunt Mary and Uncle Dexter's youngest son, Vincent. He was only six years old, with dark hair that stuck up on the top of his head and green eyes that sparkled happily. For some reason, looking at him reminded me horribly of Harry.
"George!" Dexter complained loudly, immediately scooping Vincent out of Granddad's way. "Football? What the hell is football?"
Gran interrupted before Granddad could even start explaining. "Never mind that, and stop cursing in front of the children, Dexter!"
Dexter pointed an accusing finger at Granddad. "He started it!" Vincent and Rosie, who was once again sat in her highchair, giggled as Gran rolled her eyes, ignoring them both and turning to me with a huge smile.
"Happy birthday dear," she beamed, hauling me into a tight hug.
I tried my best to smile back at her as she pulled away. "Thanks, Gran."
"Finally thirteen," she sighed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear affectionately. "Oh dear, you're growing up too fast! I remember when you were Rosie's age. Oh, you were so adorable! Always causing trouble, mind!"
"A habit she refused to grow out of," Luke added, winking at me deliberately. I had to gulp hard before I could smile back, and his expression wavered a moment.
"Could you just excuse me a moment?" I blurted, taking a few steps toward the stairs. "I'll be back in a bit, I promise."
"Artemis, everyone's here for your birthday, honey," Mia frowned. "Can't it wait?"
"Not really," I grimaced, before wheeling around to the stairs and racing up them without waiting for another answer. Without thinking, I snatched a small present out of the bottom of my wardrobe and flew back down the stairs, letting myself out of the house and hurrying down Magnolia Crescent.
It didn't take me long to find Harry. I vaguely remembered him saying something about his Aunt Marge visiting, and I figured he really didn't want me hammering on his front door. Luckily, he was sat on the floor, leaning against the low wall surrounding the park I'd found him in last night and scowling at something on his sleeve. It wasn't until I got closer that I realised he wasn't looking at his sleeve; it was the blue tattoo etched into his forearm.
I gulped hard, hesitating on the corner of the street. I realised I'd freaked out completely last night, but you could hardly blame me. I mean, how often did something like that happen? Still, I'd completely disregarded how panicked he must have been, and the idea I'd left him worried and anxious in the middle of the night did nothing for my mood.
Taking a deep breath, I started forward until I was stood right behind him. "Freaky, huh?" I muttered.
He started, yanking his sleeve over his arm and looking up. His shock faded when he recognised me, lowering his gaze again. "That's one to describe it," he murmured back.
Swinging my legs over the wall, I sank down on the floor beside him and held out the small present and card. "Happy birthday." Harry blinked, glancing up at me as though he didn't understand. I frowned. "It is your birthday today, right? July 31st?"
"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "I . . . thanks." He reached out to take the present, but flinched away when his fingers touched mine. I went rigid on the spot as his eyes widened, obviously waiting for a repeat of last night.
But nothing happened.
I sighed wryly. "Take the present before I hit you over the head with it." He let out a weak snort, taking it off me with a little more confidence and ripping the card open first. I said nothing as he opened it, winding the end of my scarf around my fingers impatiently.
Eventually he turned his attention to the small parcel and ripped the paper off, a small black velvet box tumbled out. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me questioningly, but I just elbowed him with a scowl. Lips twitching, he opened it and almost choked. Inside, a red gem about four inches long and three inches deep glistened in the sinking sunlight.
"Is this . . ." he blinked.
"Don't be stupid," I groaned. "The Philosopher's Stone? It was destroyed Harry, and even if it wasn't, why the hell would I have it? But I did buy it because it looked like it."
"Why?" he frowned, taking the stone up and flipping it in his hands.
"It was Mia's idea," I shrugged. "When everyone was going on at you last year about the heir of Slytherin and all that, she decided you needed something to remember what you'd achieved. I mean, defeating Voldemort at eleven years old? Not exactly trademark of the Heir of Slytherin, is it?"
He stared at the stone, still flipping it through his fingers thoughtfully. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but his expression was distant, as though he was remembering something. Finally, he slipped the stone back into its box and smiled at me. "Thanks, Arty. If I'd known I'd see you today, I'd have brought your present too."
I blinked, trying to figure out why it was so surprising that he'd buy me a birthday present. Hadn't I just done the same? "Forget it," I shrugged. "Guess you're avoiding your Aunt?"
He scoffed. "As much as possible, yeah. But I guess I'll have to get back. She gets suspicious if she doesn't see me for a while."
"Sounds lovely," I grimaced.
"Tell me about it," he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. After a moment's hesitation, he stretched out a hand to help me up, trying not to frown. I debated whether or not to take it for a second, before giving him my hand and pushing myself to my feet. When nothing happened again, the two of us released a sigh of relief each.
"I'll see you later then," I said. "Mia has the family around, so I'd better be getting back." Grimacing once more at him, I stepped over the low wall and crossed the street, where Nyx was sat on the corner, her tail twitching as she saw me coming.
"Hey, Arty?" Harry called uncertainly.
"Yeah?" I turned as I scooped the cat off the floor, scratching her behind the ears absentmindedly.
He shifted on the spot, rubbing his forearm with a small frown. I tried not to flinch, but it was harder than it should have been. "About . . . you know . . ." he trailed, his gaze dropping to his arm.
I gulped hard. "I don't know, Harry," I admitted, annoyed that my voice sounded hoarse and worried.
He frowned for a moment, before tearing his hand away from his arm. "Happy birthday, Arty," he sighed heavily.
I smiled tightly. "Happy birthday, Harry." Without another word, I turned and started back down the street, cuddling Nyx close to my chest and wondering what the hell Harry and I were going to do about the magic coursing across our forearms.