"SURPRISE!"
As soon as Luna Lovegood tugged a bewildered Harry Potter across the threshold of No. 4 ½ Privet Drive, the house erupted in an explosion of joyful cries, brilliantly colored confetti, and what must have been a thousand balloons, enchanted to dance about the ceiling in waves of gold and crimson.
Stunned, Harry shot wide eyes at Luna, who was smirking mischievously.
Sirius rushed forward, pulling Harry into a tight embrace. "Happy Birthday, Harry!" Wrapping his arm around his shoulder, he turned to stand at Harry's side. "I hope you don't mind, but I invited a few friends."
A thick flurry of confetti began to clear. Behind it stood Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the Twins, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and Dumbledore. Harry's attention was captured, however, by a lean figure looming in the far corner of his living room. Remus Lupin wore a kind smile, exuding joy despite his vaguely worn disposition and generally threadbare appearance.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry rushed forward as Lupin closed the distance between them.
"Hello, Harry." He welcomed his former student with a warm embrace. He held Harry's shoulders and pressed him away, inspecting him with paternal pride. Suddenly his expression shifted, and he held Harry's gaze with a heavy expression. "I owe you a handful of apologies."
Harry stumbled over himself to interrupt, yet Remus shook his head with a grave expression. "No, Harry. Truly. My distance this summer has been inexcusable. And the timing of the attack, not to mention your arrest and trial, unfortunately coincided with a difficult lapse related to my… condition. I was unreachable — holed away in an abandoned cottage in Scotland. I apparated as soon as Sirius' letter reached me."
Harry smiled with a measured nod. "I understand, and I forgive you for the distance. It's been a, er, complicated summer for all of us. I'm just glad you're here, Professor."
At this the others rushed upon him, and Harry was overwhelmed by happy hugs, claps on the shoulder, and a savory fragrance wafting in from the dining table.
If the Hogwarts house elves' daily provisions were generous, the feast before them was exceptionally lavish to an embarrassing degree. Massive heaps of Yorkshire pudding, giant bowls of curries, stews, mashed potatoes, roasted chicken and summer vegetables, overstuffed platters of crusty breads, dosa, naan, sliced roast beef, and piping dishes of casseroles, precariously tottering upon the magically extended table.
Happy laughter and friendly conversation filled the house. After over an hour of embellished stories, shared memories, and playful teasing, the considerably thinner remnants of their feast were cleared. In its place a towering cake appeared — four tiers of rich chocolate ganache, magically decorated with verdant trees shifting against a strong wind, noble hippogriffs taking flight, galloping centaurs firing white chocolate arrows, and a family of miniature Acromantulas, swinging among sugar thread webbing.
As the enchanted cake sliced itself, they were each served a generous portion around which an enchanted character pranced, galloped, or skittered about through a windblown copse of gnarled trees. Noticing Ron's pale apprehension, Luna clandestinely switched her Centaur for his Acromantula. He flushed, nodding gratefully with a relieved smile.
Seated at the end of the table, Dumbledore stood.
"I do hope you'll excuse me, dear friends. I can hardly attend a feast without issuing some sort of announcement. Yet in this case, I suspect you'll welcome my excess."
Their attention was captured. With a swish he conjured a dozen tall glasses of sparkling champagne. "First, a toast." His kind eyes narrowed in affectionate gratitude. "To Harry. Where would we be without his courage, his strength, and above all, his indomitable love?"
They all raised their glasses in shouts of cheer. "To Harry!"
Harry, humbled by the affectionate display, shifted his gaze to the floor and fought inevitable tears. Luna laced her fingers through his, leaning her head upon his shoulder.
After a moment Dumbledore again spoke, capturing Harry's gaze. "Indeed, Harry, few occasions merit such joyful celebration. For today we not only celebrate your life, we celebrate what your life represents — an unflinching stand against hatred, prejudice, and violence. In your struggle against the darkness, my dear boy, you do not stand alone."
A twinkle lit his eye, and hope washed over his expression. "You are not alone." He paused. "We are not alone." His aged gaze met each of them in turn. "Two days ago, on the heels of the resignation of Cornelius Fudge, I was invited to preside over a special session of the Wizengamot. And this morning, in an expression of near unanimity, Amelia Bones was chosen to lead your magical government."
The room erupted, and for a moment Dumbledore fought for their attention. "Indeed, friends, this is welcome news. Amelia is a friend to the light, and a pillar of justice." At this, he shifted his attention to Sirius. "Now, I'm afraid I must deflate the expectations of many. Indeed, of the many kind gifts I'm sure Harry will receive today, I suspect the tidings I bring may surpass them all. For this morning, after reviewing a number of especially relevant memories, our Minister of Magic has agreed to convene the Wizengamot for the express purpose of overturning the conviction of Sirius Black."
A sharp intake of breath overtook the room, followed by an explosion of sheer rapture. Sirius, his features overcome with shock, sat with a blank expression and parted lips. Harry's efforts to resist joyful tears broke at the revelation, and he literally threw himself at his godfather. For a moment the room hushed as the pair shared tearful laughter.
After collecting himself, Sirius spoke. "I'm of course overcome — but I'm also a bit befuddled. How can it be that simple, Albus?"
Dumbledore nodded, his gaze shifting in recollection. "Perhaps simple isn't the word. You see, Sirius, the timing of your escape from Azkaban was unfortunate in one sense, for Cornelius Fudge had just completed a work to which he had devoted his efforts for decades — he had secured the allegiance of a coalition of alliances perhaps unparalleled in recent memory. His political power was, I'm afraid, rather concrete, excepting that sole element which all tyrants seek, which indeed may have solidified popular opinion permanently. He was lacking an enemy."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Not an enemy, of course, powerful enough to shake the Wizarding World. No, Fudge refused to acknowledge the return of Lord Voldemort not from mere denial. Political expediency, and nothing more, blinded his eyes to the specter of all-out war. Yet in your case, Sirius — the mad, solitary efforts of a mere henchman — Fudge was thrilled to rally his base around the specter of your return."
His features stilled, and he shook his head in disappointment. "Hence, when I appealed on your behalf — despite showing him dozens of memories indicating without a shadow of doubt your innocence — he refused to accept the notion that you'd been framed, that you were innocent of your best friend's murder."
At this, Dumbledore shifted his gaze to Luna, wearing a kind smile. "Happily, thanks in full measure to the foresight of our dear friend Miss Luna Lovegood, Fudge's foolish pursuit of power finally backfired. The collapse of his administration has done much to sober the most powerful magical families in Britain. Amelia Bone's election was, I'm overjoyed to say, the fruit of a sizable shift in popular opinion."
He returned his gaze to Sirius. "My appeal to Amelia, now supplemented with Harry's memories of Voldemort's return — evidence, of course, of Peter's survival — was received with open arms. It isn't too much to say that she was appalled at the miscarriage of justice that has haunted your years, Sirius. I suspect popular opinion will soon follow against the backdrop of next week's special session."
Harry, hardly recovered from happy tears, spoke at this. "Brilliant. Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."
Sirius echoed his gratitude. "Indeed. Albus, I've no way to repay your efforts. Thank you."
Mr. Weasley, joyfully observing the exchange, raised his glass. "To Sirius!"
The assembly erupted again, and for hours more they laughed with a liberty they hadn't dared to hope for in months.
As the sun set, Harry's friends began to depart. In time, only Hermione and Luna remained. A small pile of wrapped gifts sat in the corner of his living room, and the three of them lay sprawled about on the furnishings, recovering from overstuffed bellies.
They'd long felt comfortable sitting together in silence, so for a time they enjoyed the peace. Finally, though, Hermione sat up and caught Harry's gaze. She looked troubled.
"Harry." She furrowed her brow. "I've been wrestling with something, and I'm troubled enough to risk upsetting your otherwise happy evening. It's just that I think you should know what I think I've discovered, and I'm afraid it cannot wait."
Luna's distance gaze, suddenly anchored to the moment, was set unshiftingly on Hermione.
Harry sat up, pivoting his legs off the overstuffed sofa, and steadied his gaze. "Okay." His features stilled, readying himself. "I trust you, Hermione. If it's worth knowing I want to know it."
They watched Hermione stumble, hesitating with the weight of implications. Finally she spoke.
"I've been haunted, you see, by the notion of—" she steeled herself, huffing "—V-Voldemort's interest in your soulless body. It didn't make sense, the notion that he might want your physical body withou your immaterial soul. But something about it felt significant. Of course you know, Harry, that I chase ideas to the end, often because this or that aspect of this or that idea captures my interest. It's not that, Harry. Something about this seemed truly important, truly dark and tragic and significant in the deepest sense. So that evening I borrowed your library's best volumes on Soul Magic. I didn't sleep last night, Harry, I just read. And I think I've discovered something."
They watched her, and for a moment she held his gaze with a trembling expression. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to continue.
"I arrived at your home this morning to dig deeper. I found a chorus of voices, the suggestions of each pointing to a field of ancient dark magic none seemed willing even to articulate with any clarity. Finally, I visited your godfather's home, and he led me to his library." She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "There is no finer collection of dark works, Harry. It was horrible in one sense, but I see how it will be tremendously useful in the days to come. In either case, after several hours of research, it was there that, finally, my suspicions were confirmed."
Luna's eyes welled, and her chin trembled. Hermione wondered whether she knew all the time.
"Your scar, Harry. The pain and the visions and the nightmares." She hesitated with sudden gravity. A solitary tear fell from her left eye. "I think you're a Horcrux, Harry. I think there's a piece of Voldemort's soul living inside of you."