Harry Potter and the Man with the Silver Hand

The Glowing Omniporter

At first glance, Privet Drive by night always looked completely normal. Cars were neatly parked on the left side of driveways. Shrubberies were pruned into respectable cubic shapes. Garbage waited for removal in tidy piles by the street. Curtains in every window were pulled completely closed. In fact, it would seem that the only thing about Privet Drive to ever approached abnormality was the waxing and waning of the brilliant moon shining overhead.

However, one August night, three very unusual events happened within two hours of each other.

At precisely three in the morning, the first strange occurrence occurred. The shrill tones of an alarm clock could be heard throughout the sleeping neighborhood. This noise rang out through the open window of the smallest upstairs bedroom of house number four. With a sleepy groan, sixteen year old Harry Potter reached for the alarm on his desk. Hoping his relatives the Dursleys had not been awakened, he quickly turned it off, then switched on a small lamp. Harry moved to sit on the side of his bed. Heaving a deep sigh, he put his head in his hands, rested his elbows on his knees, and proceeded to stare at the floor, occasionally sighing again.

Judging by these actions, one might suppose that Harry was an unusual person. After all, what typical teenage boy woke himself up in the wee hours of the morning for no apparent purpose? What usual person slept with the window wide open? What well-adjusted young man was content to gaze morosely at a bit of carpet?

However, Harry Potter was not just an unusual boy. He was an extremely, marvelously, stupendously unusual boy, and he had been born into an unusual world. Harry was a wizard-in-training. For most of the year, he lived, played, studied, and caused quite a bit of trouble at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the leading institutions of magical education in Europe. Harry considered playing sports on broomsticks, moving pictures, traveling by fire, and communicating by owls quite acceptable parts of everyday life. He would be entering his sixth year on September first, and his education would be complete after two more years of study.

Harry looked up and took the clock in his hands again. As he fiddled with the clock, setting it to go off again in an hour, he pushed messy black hair away from his forehead, and a scar shaped like a lightening bolt was revealed. The history of this scar, and indeed of Harry's life thus far, made him as unusual in the wizarding world as he would seem in the Muggle (non-magical) world.

Some thirty or forty years ago, strange things began to happen. People began to disappear. The missing were not children lost in a shopping center, but full-grown men and women who should have been able to look out for themselves. The weather grew harsher, colder, and stormier. Accidents and natural disasters seemed to increase in frequency. People began to die unexpectedly, in ways that no one could explain. Muggles blamed the occurrences on the Mafia, on global warming, on rock'n'roll, or even on something as far-fetched as the Russians, but the magical community knew the truth. Voldemort, a Dark wizard whose name was not spoken out of terror, was slowly gaining power. Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters, struck fear into the heart of wizards and witches world-wide. The age of Voldemort's power was an age of dread, uncertainty, and mistrust.

Yet, as Harry had learned last summer, a small group of wizards and witches banded together to fight Voldemort. Naming themselves the Order of the Phoenix, they were part guerilla warriors, part support group. Members of the Order looked after each other when the worst happened, which could be often whenever Voldemort was involved.

Harry's parents, James and Lily Potter, had been members of the Order. Due to a prophecy concerning Voldemort and a boy who would be his undoing, the Dark Lord started to hunt down the Potters, who promptly went into hiding in Godric's Hollow. However, the Potters were betrayed by a man they thought a friend, and Voldemort found them. Harry had discovered in his third year at Hogwarts that James had tried to fight Voldemort himself while Lily ran with Harry, but had failed. Lily eventually sacrificed herself rather than deliver her baby to Voldemort. Voldemort then turned his wand upon young Harry, obviously expecting to finish the job with no problems.

However, the power of Lily's loving sacrifice was a type of magic older than the hills. It gave Harry powerful protection, and it deflected the killing curse Voldemort tried to use on the toddler. Instead, the curse rebounded upon Voldemort, stripping him of his body and his powers. Harry became known in the magical community as the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord, as The Boy Who Lived.

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and widely considered the only wizard Voldemort ever feared, had taken Harry to live with his Muggle relatives, the Dursleys, immediately after his parents' deaths. Until the age of eleven, the only family Harry had known were his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia (Lily's sister), and cousin Dudley. The Dursleys were frightened and intolerant of magic in any form; they told Harry that his parents had been killed in a car crash because they did not want him to know the truth. Uncle Vernon had been threatened by some of the Order at the end of term last June about what would happen if Harry was not treated properly. In reaction to this threat, Harry now received pocket money and sweets, two things that Dudley had always had in excess but Harry had never received. However, the Dursleys still refused to acknowledge Harry's magical tendencies.

With the alarm set to go off at four in the morning, Harry turned out the light and stretched out in his bed.

"At least I haven't dreamt anything yet, Hedwig," Harry murmured sleepily, talking to his snowy white owl. She was standing in her cage by the window, which was open so that she could come and go at her convenience. "I'm so sick of having nightmares. I just want a peaceful night's sleep for once."

All summer long, Harry had been having dreadful nightmares. At least four times a week, he would wake up screaming, crying, drenched in sweat, or tangled in the sheets. The Dursleys were especially displeased when he made noise in his sleep, though they no longer mentioned it outright. ("Wish I could stay asleep," announced Uncle Vernon gruffly one morning, glaring at Harry. "I keep hearing things and waking up. Puts me in a bloody awful mood.") Tired of waking up distraught, Harry struck upon the idea of setting his alarm to go off every hour during the night. Although sleeping for eight hours in one hour stretches was not nearly as satisfying as sleeping for eight hours in a row, Harry was no longer staying asleep long enough to get involved in his dreams. In fact, he had generally stopped dreaming altogether.

Harry certainly had plenty to have nightmares about. In the past five years, he had been through a lot. He had fallen fifty feet from of a broomstick. He had seen giant spiders, giant snakes, and an actual giant. Twice, he had almost been annihilated by dementors, horrid creatures who suck the happiness out of a person; to kill, they suck one's soul out through his mouth. He had seen his friends attacked. He had encountered Voldemort more than once. As a result of this, he had seen a fellow student killed, he had seen Voldemort's actions, and he had been possessed by the Dark Lord. But, worst of all, Harry had seen the death of his godfather due to a mistake Harry made.

Harry first met Sirius Black when he was in his third year at Hogwarts; he had been thirteen years old. Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison guarded by dementors, and traveled towards Hogwarts. The whole of England, wizard and Muggle alike, believed that Sirius was a dangerous mass murderer, and everyone had been on the lookout. However, since Sirius had been an Animagus, and could turn into a huge shaggy dog at will, he was able to disguise himself cleverly, and even managed to break into Hogwarts. Harry eventually met Sirius, and helped him escape from dementors and from the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had been James Potter's best friend, and had become a surrogate father to Harry.

When Harry was in his fifth year, however, he became strangely in tune with Voldemort. He began to sense Voldemort's emotions, and occasionally saw what Voldemort was seeing. Voldemort used one of these visions to trick Harry. Convinced that Sirius was in danger, Harry was lured to the Ministry of Magic on a rescue mission. In fact, Sirius had to come save Harry, and died in the process.

The loss of Sirius ripped Harry's world apart. He felt hollow inside. He often thought that he would rather be dead than feel this sort of pain and guilt. He had never known his parents, so he never felt any pain over their death. The ache he felt was for their absence. He wished with all of his being that they were still alive, but the loss of Sirius was something completely new. Harry could not go for more than ten minutes, it seemed, without being reminded of Sirius. He saw a boy walking a dark, bear-like dog one day and it felt as if he had been dropped from a cliff. He could not think of Quidditch without thinking of the broomstick Sirius had given him for Christmas. He could not even say the word "serious" in day to day conversation. The only good thing about his nightmares was that Sirius had often appeared in them. Even after Harry awoke, breathing rapidly and panicked, he had savored those glimpses of his godfather, walking again, laughing, his black hair handsomely disarrayed. Even seeing Sirius being tortured, or seeing Sirius's mangled body, had meant seeing Sirius, and the pain had been worth seeing him again.

Harry had almost drifted off to sleep again when the second abnormal thing happened. He heard the rustle of wings. He assumed it was Hedwig flying off for a bit of hunting, so he didn't stir. A moment later, though, something landed next to his pillow and pecked at the side of his head.

Swiftly, Harry sat up. He saw two pairs of glowing eyes staring at him, one from Hedwig's cage, the other from his bed. Sincerely hoping that there were two owls in his room, as opposed to one owl and one unknown creature, Harry reached to turn on the light. To his immense relief, he saw a blurry owl by the window and a blurry owl on the bed. With a sigh (he hadn't realized he had been holding his breath), Harry reached for his glasses. When the room came into view, he discovered that the black owl on his bed had a letter in its beak and a small package on the covers, close to its feet. Both items bore the familiar Hogwarts crest.

"Well, I was wondering when I would get the start of term letter," said Harry, taking the envelope. The black owl flew over to Hedwig's cage, clearly wanting a drink of water. Hedwig flapped her wings and hooted rather loudly at the intrusion. "Scoot over, Hedwig", muttered Harry, opening the envelope. "You can spare a bit of water."

With an insulted look at him, Hedwig soared gracefully out the window. Harry felt exasperated but didn't bother worrying about it. "Women," he said under his breath.

There were five pieces of parchment in the envelope. Obviously, the letter from school was rather longer than usual. Harry read the first page:

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.

Due to the recent repeal of many Educational Decrees passed last school year, clubs, associations, groups, and teams are again open to all eligible students. I am pleased to inform you that the lifetime Quidditch ban you received last year has also been repealed.

If he hadn't been concerned about the Dursleys, Harry could have shouted for joy. As a result of a Ministry plot to exert more control in Hogwarts, Harry had been kicked off his house Quidditch team for life. (Students at Hogwarts were divided into one of four houses, either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. Harry, as well as his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were in Gryffindor.) Quidditch was the most popular sport in the wizarding world, though Harry had never heard of any other sports, come to think of it. It was played on broomsticks, and was complicated as well as dangerous. Harry had been the Seeker for the Gryffindor team. Quidditch was one of his favorite things about school. Flying came more naturally to Harry than anything else, and receiving a lifetime ban had been a grave disappointment.

Through his excitement and relief, Harry suddenly remembered that he had been replaced on the team. Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, was now the team's Seeker. Though Ginny had expressed an interest in playing the position of Chaser rather then Seeker, the fact was that she had a spot on the team and Harry did not. If he was honest with himself, Harry knew that he was the best Seeker in the school, but that did not mean that he would even have a chance to try out. Eager to see if the letter elaborated on the Quidditch situation, Harry read on.

You should have received your O.W.L.s scores by now. Hogwarts has received copies of your scores as well. Please verify the scores on the following page. If they do not match the scores you were sent, please send us an owl at once.

You will now be entering into an important stage of your educational career.

Harry groaned. Professor McGonagall, who taught Transfiguration and was head of Gryffindor house, had told them, at many different times during their schooling, that they were entering an important stage of their educational careers. He continued to read.

The subjects in which you take your N.E.W.T. exams will affect the

the careers for which you are eligible. You expressed an interest in becoming an Auror during a career advice session. For this path, you will need to take N.E.W.T. level courses in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. I would also recommend continuing the study of Care of Magical Creatures. You will no longer need to study Divination, Herbology, Astronomy, or History of Magic. Keep in mind, however, that Aurors need a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, and they will not accept anything under "Exceeds Expectations". Your current course list has been enclosed. Please tap the subjects you wish to continue with your wand and return the parchment to Hogwarts by August 25. If you change your mind after tapping a subject, tap it a second time to indicate that you do not wish to continue study in this area.

A list of required books is also enclosed. Once you have chosen your subjects, the books you no longer require will fade from the list.

Yours sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry laid the letter down on his pillow and picked up the next piece of parchment, which was his O.W.L.s scores. He had received his scores originally a few weeks earlier, and he had been astounded at his overall performance. In fact, he had taped the parchment notice to the mirror in his wardrobe, such that he saw it each time he got dressed. Harry had known that he needed N.E.W.T. level Potions in order to become an Auror. He also knew that Professor Snape, the Potions master, would not teach N.E.W.T. level Potions to anyone who received below an "Outstanding" on the Potions O.W.L. "Outstanding" was the highest possible rating, followed by "Exceeds Expectations"; "Acceptable" was the lowest grade that still passed. "Poor" and "Dreadful" were failing marks, as was "Troll", though Harry was not sure if this was an actual score or a stupid joke. Harry glanced through his results, just double-checking.

Theory of Charms Exceeds Expectations

Practical Charms Acceptable

Theory of Transfiguration Exceeds Expectations

Practical Transfiguration Exceeds Expectations

Theory of Herbology Acceptable

Practical Herbology Acceptable

Theory of Defense Against

the Dark Arts Outstanding

Practical Defense Against

the Dark Arts Outstanding

Theory of Potions Outstanding

Practical Potions Outstanding

Theory of Care of Magical

Creatures Exceeds Expectations

Practical Care of Magical

Creatures Exceeds Expectations

Theory of Astronomy Acceptable

Practical Astronomy Poor

Practical Divination Poor

Theory of History of Magic Poor

Harry had expected dismal marks in Divination (which had always been an awful subject, and one he would be glad to drop), Practical Astronomy (the entire class had been distracted by attacks on Hagrid, the half-giant game keeper and Care of Magical Creature teacher, and Professor McGonagall), and History of Magic (he had seen the false vision of Sirius being tortured during this exam, which was quite a distraction, needless to say), but he had also expected poor marks in Potions. Severus Snape had hated James Potter, as well as his friends Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, when they were at Hogwarts together; the feeling was mutual and returned with a vengeance. Snape had shown an active dislike towards Harry from the first time Harry stepped into his class as well. Things had taken a definite turn for the worse in Harry's fifth year. Several times, Snape had refused to grade Harry's work. He had become increasingly violent towards Harry as the year progressed, once throwing a jar of cockroaches at him. Worst in Harry's mind, he hadn't helped with the situation with Sirius. Harry blamed Snape for Sirius's death whenever he could not bear the guilt himself, which was quite often. As glad as he was to be in a class that would prepare him to be an Auror (Dark wizard hunter), Harry was not looking forward to two more years with Snape.

Harry dropped his O.W.L.s scores on top of the letter from Hogwarts and picked up his list of classes. Remembering that he would need his wand, he pulled it out from under his pillow. Since Harry not yet seventeen, he was not of age in the magical world, and was therefore not allowed to do any magic outside of school. In fact, the Ministry of Magic had almost expelled him the summer before because he done magic in self defense. But, since Voldemort had returned, Harry started keeping his wand with him at all times. It was because of this precaution that he was still alive; Harry had cast a Patronus Charm to repel two dementors the previous August, which he could not have done without his wand.

Returning to his schedule, Harry tapped Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and (rather unwillingly) Potions. Each subject glowed gold for a moment after his wand touched it, then the ink returned to its usual emerald green. Harry then considered the rest of his subjects. He had Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Astronomy, Herbology, and History of Magic left from which to choose.

McGonagall had recommended Care of Magical Creatures, which Harry wanted to take anyway, since Hagrid taught that class. Hagrid was the first magical person Harry had ever met, and he had taken Harry under his wing immediately. Hagrid had a strange attraction to dangerous creatures, likely due to his giant blood, which made his classes more perilous and more interesting than they would have been otherwise. Harry thought that an Auror might need to know about magical creatures, so he tapped it on his schedule. The course glowed gold and reverted to green.

Harry had no intentions of every taking Divination again, nor of going near Professor Trelawney if he could help it. Sibyl Trelawney had only made two real prophecies in her lifetime, and her favorite classroom tactic was to predict Harry's painful and eminent death. Ron and Harry had long since decided that she was an old phony, and had also vowed to get out of her class as soon as possible. The school's other Divination teacher, Firenze, was a centaur who had been banished from the Forbidden Forest. Though Firenze had yet to predict the death of a student, he frequently told the class that humans could not understand the true meaning of the stars. Harry did not want to take Divination from Firenze, either. He tapped Divination twice just to be safe; the ink glowed red and hissed before returning to emerald.

Harry now had a bit of a puzzle. His letter said that he needed at least five N.E.W.T.s to become an Auror, and nothing under "Exceeds Expectations." He had just selected five classes, but he thought that that might be cutting it a bit short. What if he got an "Acceptable" on a N.E.W.T.? If he was only taking five tests and even one wasn't good enough, he might not be able to become an Auror. He didn't think that History of Magic would help an Auror at all, but he also couldn't see if Astronomy or Herbology had an advantage over the other.

Harry was considering pulling a Hermione and taking both Herbology and Astronomy when his alarm clock began to buzz again. The Hogwarts owl hooted from Hedwig's cage as Harry scrambled to turn off the alarm.

"I didn't know you were still here," said Harry. "I suppose you're staying to take back my schedule?" The owl eyed Harry. "Well, I'm not done yet. I have my own owl, you know; she can take it for me." The owl hooted again, took another drink of water from Hedwig's bowl, and flew out the window.

Watching the owl in flight over Privet Drive, Harry had a sudden idea. He knew Aurors! He could ask "Mad-Eye" Moody and Nymphadora Tonks, both of whom were Aurors, as to what classes he should take. It's about time to send them a letter anyway, Harry thought. I'd hate to see what Uncle Vernon would do if they actually showed up to check on me.

Moody and Tonks were members of the reformed Order of the Phoenix. When Voldemort regained his body two years ago, Dumbledore had acted immediately to reinstate the Order. Some members, such as Moody, Lupin, and Dumbledore, had been members of the original Order. Some of the other original members, such as the Potters, the Bones, and now Sirius, had been killed by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Some members, such as Tonks, had been too young to be a member the first time. Some members, such as McGonagall and much of the Weasley family, simply had not known about the Order until recently. Snape, Harry's least favorite and least trusted member, had been a Death Eater the last time Voldemort had been in power.

Moody, in part of his threat to Uncle Vernon, had promised to check up on Harry if no one had heard from him in three days. All summer long, Harry had been sending notes and short letters to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, which served as headquarters for the Order. From what Harry gathered, Lupin, the Weasleys, and Hermione were staying there for the summer. Although Harry wondered why Ron had asked Hermione to stay but not him, he knew that he was magically protected while living at Privet Drive, no matter how unpleasant he found it. Part of Harry was glad not to be at headquarters, though he had stayed there last summer and Christmas. Grimmauld Place had been the Black family's home for centuries, and Sirius had been the last of the family to live there.

Pushing thoughts of Sirius out of his mind, Harry sat down at his desk. He rummaged through a drawer to find some ink and a quill, spread out a piece of parchment, and began to write, pausing occasionally to think.

Dear Moody and Tonks,

I'm just checking in. Nothing extraordinary has happened here. The Muggles are treating me just fine, though they keep forcing extra puddings on me.

I got my letter from Hogwarts tonight. I was wondering how I'm going to get to Diagon Alley and King's Cross this year. I suppose someone else could buy my books for me, but I do have to catch the train in person. If you would let me come stay, this problem would be so much easier to solve...

Harry had asked to stay at Grimmauld Place in each letter he sent. It had become a running joke, since the Order refused in each reply. Harry knew that he was safer on Privet Drive than anywhere else (possibly except being chained to Dumbledore), but he yearned to see his friends again.

I have to choose my courses in which to take N.E.W.T.s exams. I'd thought of being an Auror, and I was hoping for some advice from the two of you. I'm already taking Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and obviously Defense Against the Dark Arts. I still need at least one more class. I want to take Care of Magical Creatures, as Hagrid teaches that, but I feel I should take another as well. Would you suggest Herbology or Astronomy? I can't see how one would help me more than the other.

Give everyone my best, I hope they are all well.

Hoping to see you soon,

Harry

Harry re-read his letter, making sure that nothing important would be revealed if the letter was intercepted. In the past, the Order had hidden from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but they had also hidden from the Ministry. Taking a lead from the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, the Ministry had adopted the position that Voldemort had not returned. They also implied that Harry was a half-crazed publicity seeker who would tell any story that would get him attention. After Voldemort and Dumbledore had battled in the Ministry offices, however, the general opinion had shifted. Harry was now hailed as a messenger who had proclaimed truth despite all obstacles; it was not mentioned that the large majority of obstacles had come directly from the Ministry. Due to the recent events, members of the Order no longer worried that the Ministry would read their communications, but Voldemort still posed a grave threat, and Harry did not want his letter to give away information of any consequence.

After sealing the letter and addressing it to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Harry laid it near Hedwig's cage. "She can deliver it when she comes back," said Harry. He sat back down on his bed and began to read the final piece of parchment from his Hogwarts letter. He was surprised to see that it was a handwritten note.

Mr. Potter -

The item you have been sent is an Omniporter. Omniporters are used to send large packages with ease. An Omniporter will not open unless the person to whom it is sent taps it with his wand and speaks his first and last names. Your package will be found inside.

Prof. McGonagall

Harry tore the brown paper off the package the owl had brought. A coarse sack the color of wheat bread fell into his lap. It was about the size a tee-shirt would be, if somebody cut off the arms and sewed the neck shut. A golden drawstring held it closed at the top. Harry tried to pull it open, but the Omniporter did not budge. He was about to try again when he remembered what McGonagall's note instructed, and picked his wand up off of his list of subjects. He tapped the bag, said, "Harry Potter," and the third unusual thing happened.

The Omniporter jumped into midair when the wand touched it, as though it had been burned by the wood. Then, it instantly turned pure gold and began to give off a blinding light. Harry raised his left arm to shield his eyes and leaped off the bed; he clutched his wand tightly in his right hand. He did not think that McGonagall would send anything dangerous, but neither did he know what to expect from an Omniporter.

After a moment, the light seemed to grow dimmer. Harry lowered his arm and saw that the Omniporter was rotating in air. The drawstrings had pulled apart, and the golden bag was now open. Approaching cautiously, Harry reached out with his left hand and grabbed the Omniporter.

At his touch, the Omniporter stopped turning. It faded to its original nondescript color, and a voice as piercingly clear as that of a child said, "Delivery for Mr. Harry Potter."

Sitting back on his bed, Harry looked inside the sack, but couldn't see anything. Puzzled, he reached inside. Nothing but rough cloth met his fingertips. With a feeling of growing annoyance, Harry turned the bag upside down and shook.

At once, a plethora of items showered onto his lap, spilling over to rest on his bed sheets. Giving the items a cursory glance, Harry noticed books, photographs, a Remembrall, lots of Chocolate Frogs, a large box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and several rolls of shining parchment. A rich blue velvet bag, bigger than the Omniporter, and obviously containing several bulky items, had also been enclosed. It was closed with a silver clasp rather than a drawstring. Harry wondered how all of this had ever fit into the Omniporter, which had seemed completely empty when it arrived.

Curious as to what the second bag contained, Harry reached for it first. As he unlocked the clasp, however, the shining parchments all stood on end.

"Harry dear," the thickest roll said in Mrs. Weasley's voice, "read your mail first. It will explain things."

Unaccustomed to taking orders from parchment, even parchment that sounded like his best friend's mother, Harry stared at the talking roll for a moment, his hand still on the bag's clasp.

"Oh come now," snapped Mrs. Weasley's voice, sounding annoyed and impatient, "this really is important. You can play with everything else later."

"I'm not playing," muttered Harry crossly, opening the bag and ignoring the talking parchment. "I'm just looking through it all, thanks."

Mrs. Weasley's letter jumped on top of the sack, forcing it closed again.

"Honestly, Harry," it said sharply. "I had expected better from you. You do as you're told, and then you can look through whatever you wish."

The other pieces of parchment moved such that they were surrounding Harry. One or two leaned towards him in a threatening manner.

"Oh Harry," one said in Hermione's voice, sounding exasperated. "Do what Mrs. Weasley says. You know she just wants the best for you."

"Come on, mate," added Ron's reluctant voice. His letter sounded as though it was being made to talk, but would rather have just kept its silence. "It won't take long."

Harry felt a familiar anger begin to build up inside him. He had faced Lord Voldemort on four separate occasions and had lived to tell the tail, but his friends didn't trust him to open his own post?

"Fine," he said, snatching up Mrs. Weasley's letter and pushing the bag aside.

He had talked to Mrs. Weasley any number of times, but he had never seen what was in that bag before. It was bad enough being away from his friends and away from the action; Harry resented being ordered around by enchanted mail. Groaning, he began to read.

Harry dear,

Let me first say that I do not want you to open that second bag until you have read my letter. I know that it is tempting, but you really do need to find out what is inside it first. That aside, I hope this letter finds you well.

Seeing as how Dumbledore wants you to stay with your aunt and uncle for most of the summer, Ron and Hermione took it upon themselves to send you a care package of sorts for your birthday. Of course, everyone else in the Order wanted to send something as well, and by the time everyone got everything together, your birthday had come and gone.

This explained, then, why Harry had only received cards for his birthday. He had been disappointed when he had not received his usual presents from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid, not because he was greedy, but because the gifts always reminded Harry that his friends were thinking of him over the interminable summers. He had been angry and hurt when the only owls he received had carried short notes; he felt that he was being shunned and ignored.

The items loose in the Omniporter are your birthday gifts...

Harry felt a rush of warm happiness. He had never received this much for any birthday, nor at any Christmas. Feeling ashamed for his earlier irritation (how could he be mad when so many people cared for him?), Harry continued reading the letter.

...and the items in the bag belonged to Sirius. We collected them from his room at Grimmauld Place. I think that some of it once belonged to your parents. I did not want you to open the bag before you knew what it contained. You are old enough to now to have them, and you deserve some mementos from your past.

Have a happy birthday Harry. We think of you every day and miss you constantly.

All our love,

Mrs. Weasley

Harry felt as if a cold stone had settled in his stomach, which seemed to have contracted painfully. All the joy he had felt about his presents turned into an aching hole. Harry had expected the velvet bag to contain things that would answer some of his questions, or that would occupy him until school started. The thought that the contents of the sack would only cause him more pain had not crossed his mind. To make matters worse, Harry had a sudden mental image of Snape, rifling through Sirius's room, laughing, and chucking random items into a sack.

Dropping Mrs. Weasley's letter onto the large pile of things on his bed, Harry closed his eyes and shook his head hard. That's not the way it was, he told himself. It wouldn't have been Snape, it would have been Lupin or Moody or Dumbledore. It would have been someone who cared as much as I do.

In his mind, Snape slowly faded into Lupin, who sorted Sirius's things with tears in his eyes and placed only the most meaningful articles into the bag.

Harry unwrapped and ate a Chocolate Frog to give himself time to think. Thinking about Sirius was still painful, but Harry had always been curious about his parents. He was especially eager now to discover something that would show his mother and father in a good light. In a memory of Snape's, Harry had seen both of his parents acting in anger. James had been cruel and Lily had screamed. Harry wanted to have a good memory to hold on to.

As the last of the chocolate dissolved on his tongue, Harry made up his mind. He would see what was in the blue bag tonight, and look through his birthday presents some other time. He tried to shove everything back into the Omniporter, but it would not all fit. Apparently, magic was needed to get the pouch to expand in the first place. After putting his only his mail into the Omniporter, Harry placed everything else in his trunk, on top of his school robes.

Taking a number of Chocolate Frogs with him, Harry got back on his bed and leaned up against the wall. He pulled the velvet sack towards him, feeling a strange combination of excitement, dread, anxiety, happiness, and melancholy. He was about to see relics from his parents's past, and he hoped he would find nothing but proof that they were happy together. With fingers that shook slightly, Harry undid the clasp.

He considered dumping the contents of the bag out as he had with the Omniporter, but then realized that there may be something fragile inside. Harry reached into the sack, pulling out handfuls blindly. He felt fabric, a few skinny books, wood, metal, and lots of parchment. When he reached the bottom of the bag, he turned it inside out, just to make sure he wasn't overlooking anything. A lock of shiny auburn hair, twisted like a pretzel, fell onto his knee.

With a painful sort of joy, Harry picked up the coiled red hair. This is my mother's hair, he thought slowly, his heart pounding noticeably in his chest. My mother brushed this hair every day. Cradling it in his hand, he lifted the lock to his nose and inhaled. It smelled clean, like shampoo and vanilla. My mother smelled good, Harry thought. My father must have smelled this hair a thousand times, and each time he must have thought about how good my mother smelled.

Holding a piece of his mother made Harry ache; he had never wanted to see Lily alive more than he did right now. He had seen pictures of his parents before; he had seen them in an enchanted mirror, and he had even seen a ghost-like echo of them, but this lock of hair was the first physical proof of their existence Harry had seen in almost fifteen years. He was now glad that Mrs. Weasley's letter insisted upon being read; if he hadn't known better, he might have thought this a strand of Ginny's hair. He might have tossed it away, or, even worse, he might have never found it.

Laying the lock on his pillow, where he would not lose it, Harry returned to the pile and selected a thick bundle of photographs from the top. They were all of James, Lily, and their friends, and were arranged such that the most recent pictures were on top. Lupin and Sirius standing over a table covered with papers, talking to each other but never looking up. A young Harry, scarless and smiling, waving a wand. Sirius holding a baby, obviously afraid he might drop it. Lily in a hospital bed, her hair sweaty and tangled, cradling a newborn and beaming at the camera; James beside her looking stunned but happy. James with one arm proudly around a very pregnant Lily, the other hand on her enormous stomach. Dumbledore beating Lupin at chess. Hagrid holding James over his head. James, Sirius, and Lupin on an overstuffed couch, laughing hysterically such that they cried. James in formal robes, looking thunderstruck and handsome. A very casual group shot of a wedding, James in the middle with Lily on his lap, messing up his hair. James and Lily exchanging vows. Lily in a white dress, looking nervous and happy and overwhelmingly beautiful. Lily and Sirius in a restaurant. Sirius and James in the same restaurant, Sirius wearing the same robes in both pictures. Lupin and Sirius, each with a stunning veela-like girl on his arm, obviously identical twins. Sirius kissing his veela-girl. James with an arm around Lily, who held her left hand such that a ring caught the light, both smiling wildly. Lily on the back of James's broomstick, her long hair flowing in the wind and catching the light as she held on to him. A Quidditch match at school, James swooping back and forth. Lily in an armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, James laying on the floor looking up at her. James, Sirius, and Lupin by the Whomping Willow under a full moon, each transforming from human to animal and back. Sirius throwing a wad of paper at Lupin. James studying. James, Sirius, Lupin, and a boy who must have been Wormtail in front of the Hogwarts Express. The last picture was of a young James, holding his acceptance letter from Hogwarts and waving.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Harry stacked the pictures up and looked at his alarm clock. It was almost seven o'clock. Since there was still a sizable pile on his bed, Harry decided to look through the rest of it later. He was exceedingly tired, and he didn't think he could handle thinking about his parents or Sirius for much longer. He carefully placed things back into the inky blue bag, which he put in his trunk as well, but he put the lock of his mother's hair in the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. The album had contained the first pictures Harry had ever seen of his parents and their friends, and he had treasured it immediately.

As he slid back into bed, Harry did not bother setting his alarm. He had just seen too many happy things to expect nightmares. Most importantly, he now knew his parents had been happy. They had a good life. Thinking of his mother as she smiled, Harry fell asleep.