Adaptations

Adaptations

Part Five

A bright half-moon had risen when the meeting finally broke up. In groups of twos and threes, the attendees rode the spiral stairs down from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon there were only four left. They had been the first to arrive and so it was oddly fitting that they were also the last to leave. Professor Minerva McGonagall had a look of dour concern on her face but it was Severus Snape who spoke first.

"Headmaster," he said, "I feel I must again stress my view that it is unwise to simply allow Potter to run roughshod over the law, both Muggle and magical."

"Indeed, Albus," interjected Professor McGonagall, "we all know how fond you are of the boy, but to simply let him do whatever he pleases? He must have some form of structure in his life. Perhaps those horrid Muggle relations of his can finally be of some use?"

"No, those people have had too much of an influence over him already," said Remus Lupin quickly.

"Well, someone needs to start having some control over the boy," said Severus. "How else can he be expected to survive?"

Albus Dumbledore looked at the three other people in the room. They were all between 75 and 100 years younger than he and yet they were his closest advisors, more than that, they were his friends.

"Indeed, you are all correct," he spoke at last. "Someone must begin to exert some control over Harry, and I believe I know precisely the right person. Remus, if you will remain for a few moments, I have a message for you to bring to Mr. Potter."

With this the deputy headmistress and the Potions Master took their leave and left a rather curious werewolf behind.

* * * * *

The ride from London to Little Whinging in Surrey took Harry over five hours. Not that he couldn't have made the trip in considerably less time, the distance was only some 30 odd kilometers, but he was constantly delayed by turning off into the empty parking lots of office buildings, factories, and train depots so that Sirius could give him lessons on riding a motorbike. Some of the lessons were basic, such as the proper techniques for braking, using the front more than the rear, or how to maneuver the machine at low speeds, which was in reality far more difficult than turning at high speed. Other lessons were far more Marauder-like, such as the proper way to stand the bike up on its front wheel using the brake, as well as standing it on the rear wheel using the accelerator. Sirius also made Harry, much to his chagrin, stop and buy a helmet. Harry wanted one that was red and gold, the Gryffindor colors, but Sirius insisted on a yellow, full face model that matched the bike and fit snugly without interfering with Harry's glasses.

And so it was dinnertime when Harry rolled up the drive of number four and climbed off the bike, saddle-sore but grinning from ear to ear. The Dursleys, as usual, made a point of not noticing him as he strolled into the kitchen, but when he sat his helmet on the counter to free up his hands to make a sandwich, he heard a distinct gasp from his aunt. After grabbing a fizzy drink from the fridge, he set his plate on the table and took a chair. Uncle Vernon was turning quite a lovely shade of puce when Harry swallowed a bite of food and asked how everyone's day had gone. His aunt and uncle quickly returned their eyes to their plates but Dudley couldn't stop himself.

"Wha' tha' helmet for? Did somebody bring you home on a motorbike? I thought I heard one drive up."

Harry looked at his piggish cousin, two years of training in boxing had made him a good bit stronger but he was still quite a rotund figure. "No one brought me," Harry said casually, "I rode myself."

And so, while his aunt wailed about the neighbors seeing one of those horrid, hoodlum things in their drive, Uncle Vernon struggled to clear a lodged bit of beef from his windpipe, and Dudley whined because HE didn't have a motorbike, Harry finished his sandwich, put his plate in the sink, and went up to his room to study for the rest of the evening.

The few mornings later, after another lovely, dreamless night's sleep, Harry woke, showered, and went downstairs. He reckoned to put in a little work around the house before going out on the bike for some more lessons. So, as he entered the kitchen, he was quite shocked to see Remus Lupin once again sitting at the table. The man looked quite tired and Harry noticed that this time he wasn't even bothering to pretend to hold a conversation with his aunt, who sat with him, likely to make sure he didn't try to steal any flatware.

"Remus," Harry said when he got over the shock, "what are you doing here?"

"Yes, it's beginning to become quite a habit, isn't it?" he replied. "I'm going to have to bring some groceries next time or I might start to wear out my welcome."

Harry saw his aunt's eyes widen at this comment but she didn't say a word. A remarkably intelligent decision on her part, Harry thought.

"I'm starving," Harry said. "I'm going to make myself some breakfast. Would you care to have something?"

"Actually, Harry, I could do with a bit of toast or something; it's been a long night."

Harry got out a frying pan and put a healthy amount of bacon in it to cook as he scrambled a half-dozen eggs into another pan. In truth, he wasn't that hungry but he knew Remus often went without and decided that he ought to see that he had at least one good meal today. Besides, the look on his aunt's face as he crashed about in her pristine kitchen was delightful.

As Remus began to tuck into his breakfast, he looked at Harry. It was obvious that he had something to say and this was not just a social visit. Wiping his mouth carefully with one of Petunia's best cloth napkins, he began.

"Harry, I want to begin by saying we all believe you." Harry couldn't stop the hope that began to bubble up inside him. "Somehow, Sirius is still alive, in one form or another." Remus' eyes grew concerned as he looked steadily at Harry. "Are you aware of how deeply he is engrained into your mind?"

Harry nodded. "He's in there pretty well. I can't sense him all the time, like right now, but when I need him, he comes forward."

"Like the other day. During your encounter with Professor Snape?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, then and when I was riding the bike. I sort of let him take control because... well, because I didn't know what to do and he did." Harry blushed slightly with this confession and he lowered his eyes.

"Yes, Sirius could certainly handle a bike. Was it him that got you home?"

"Well, yes and no," Harry began and he went on to explain how Sirius had taken the long ride home to teach Harry how to ride for himself.

"So, Sirius is possessing you?"

"NO!" Harry said sharply. "It's not like that at all."

"How do you know, Harry?"

"Well, I spent a lot of time thinking about it that night, after it was all over. I've talked a bit with Ginny about what it was like when Voldemort was possessing her back a few years ago. She said she couldn't remember what she did, where she went, or how she got there. It's not like that now. It's like we're a team, Sirius and I, almost like we're joined." Remus looked at him curiously, with a strong vein of worry. But since he wasn't trying to call in an exorcist, Harry took this as a sign to continue. "I've been thinking a bit about what she said, and my dreams. Sort of comparing how they were to what she went through."

"And?"

"Well, they all seem to be different. Ginny was possessed against her will, and she had blackouts and couldn't remember anything. Back in fourth year, before Voldemort came back, the dreams I had were all... sort of... well, they were like going into a Pensieve."

Remus shook his head, "I've never been in a Pensieve, Harry. Describe it to me."

"Well, it's sort of like you're there but you really aren't. You can walk around and see things from different angles, but no one knows you're there. They can't see you or hear you."

"Because they're just memories," Remus said.

Harry nodded. "But that was also what those first dreams were like. I could see what was happening but I was still me. I was watching everything. Then, after Voldemort got his body back, they were different."

"How so?"

Harry took a deep breath and continued, "It was like I was a part of them. Instead of being me and watching what was happening, I became one of the people involved. At first, I just pictured myself walking down a dark corridor. There was no one else there, not Voldemort, not Wormtail, no one. That's probably why I didn't think they were coming from Voldemort; he wasn't in any of them. I didn't feel any strong emotions, except maybe a desire to open that door at the end of the corridor."

"But you were still yourself?"

"I thought so then, but I'm not so sure now."

"Why's that?"

"Well, the dream I had, where Mr. Weasley was attacked."

"You watched that happen?" Remus asked gently.

Harry shook his head. "No, I did it," he admitted softly.

"What do you mean you did it?"

"I was the snake. I saw what the snake saw, felt what the snake felt. I... I hated Mr. Weasley and I wanted to kill him. I hunted him. I snuck up on him while he was asleep and then I attacked him." Harry was shaking with the power of the memory and the guilt it brought back. "I bit him, over and over again. I wanted to kill him."

Remus looked at the boy intensely for a moment before speaking. "Interesting," was all he said.

"Interesting?" Harry barked. "You think it's interesting that I wanted to kill my best friend's father?"

"No, Harry," Remus quickly said. "You didn't want to kill anybody. That was the snake. You were witnessing not only the snake's actions but its thoughts, its emotions. It's interesting that, in the beginning, you experienced these dreams in the third person. You were an observer." Harry nodded; this at least he could understand. "But after Voldemort's resurrection, your dreams changed, they became first person. You were no longer independent of the actions going on; you were a part of them in a way, but not in control of what was happening."

Harry nodded again, "Right, then I got the dream of Sirius." Harry hesitated, he wasn't sure if he could continue, but he felt he had to try. "I was Voldemort. I was torturing Sirius. I was laughing. I hated him and I wanted to kill him, but only after I punished him first." Harry stopped, unable to continue. He looked at his father's friend and waited for the recriminations he thought would come from this admission.

Remus got up and walked around the table. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder he looked down into the eyes that had once belonged to the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. "Harry, you never felt those things, did you?" Harry could do nothing but return his gaze. "It was Voldemort who hated Sirius, just as it was Voldemort who wanted to kill Arthur Weasley. I don't want you to feel any guilt for what he made you witness. It wasn't you who felt that way. You only witnessed what Voldemort felt." Harry nodded slowly but Remus knew it would take time for understanding to come to the boy. "Harry, what about the dreams you have now, the ones that convinced you that Sirius may still be alive."

"He is alive," Harry said fiercely.

"I know, Harry, I know. I saw him a couple of days ago." Harry looked stunned. "That incident with you and Professor Snape. That wasn't you, it was your mouth that spoke but they were Sirius' words. I've witnessed enough of their battles to know one when I see one. Especially when he beat Snape to the draw and snapped his wand."

Harry gaped for a beat and said, "That's happened before, hasn't it? On the Hogwarts Express?"

Remus shook his head ruefully. "Yes, on our final trip back to London after finishing our last year, Sirius got hold of Severus' wand and snapped it right in front of everyone."

"No," Harry said. "It wasn't like that. I saw it, in Snape's memories..."

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"He was going to hex my dad. Sn... Professor Snape was boarding a carriage and he turned to curse my dad," he added with a sneer, "in the back." Remus looked at Harry oddly. "Sirius disarmed him and then snapped his wand. It wasn't his fault, he was protecting my dad."

"Did Sirius tell you this?" Remus asked.

"No, like I told you, I saw the memory of it in Snape's..." Harry grimaced, "Professor Snape's mind. Just like the time he tripped him and caused him to fall down that flight of stairs."

"You mean that time in fifth year?" Remus asked, wide-eyed; Harry just shrugged, not knowing any context for the memory. "It was the day before the final Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Your dad fell down a flight of steps and broke his arm. Poppy fixed it but wouldn't let him fly in the game. Without him we lost, we got creamed actually, and lost the Cup. Severus did that?" Harry nodded. "Your dad always said he thought someone tripped him but no one was anywhere near at the time."

"Well, Malfoy used the same hex on me last year. That's how he managed to catch me when they raided the D.A."

"Hmm," Remus said, as if filing this bit of information away for future use. "But Harry, tell me about the dreams you're having now. Are they first person or third?"

"First, I reckon," Harry said. "But they're different again. Sirius isn't in them, at least not as a human. He's Snuffles and I'm him."

"Explain."

"Well, it's kind of complicated. I'm always in the dream but I'm not me. What I mean to say is that the real me is there watching the dream me."

"So, they're third person, like your first visions of Voldemort?"

"No, not like that. I'm Snuffles, the dog, and I'm playing with myself." Harry blushed at the old Marauder's grin. "Not like that. I'm the dog and the dog is playing with the dream me. Chasing sticks or Frisbees or just messing around."

"You see out of the dog's eyes? Do you feel what he feels?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno, what does a dog feel? I know I'm happy. It's kind of peaceful and relaxing. Sort of what I..." Harry hesitated again. "Sort of what I used to always dream about, you know, before all this started. I'm..."

"Carefree?" Remus ventured.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Carefree, like I don't have a problem in the world."

"But what about this last dream, where you say you spoke with him?"

"That's different again," Harry said, somewhat confused. "It wasn't a proper dream at all. I wasn't really asleep."

"Yes, Alastor told us about that, but what happened?"

"Well, I was sitting there on the floor trying to block out Voldemort, and then the attack stopped. Suddenly, I wasn't sitting there anymore. I mean, my body was still there, I could see it, but I wasn't in it anymore. I just sort of floated up and through the walls." Harry looked over at his former Professor, expecting to be laughed at, but Remus had a serious expression on his face so Harry continued. "I was somehow drawn to London, to the Ministry where I just floated through the walls and down to the Death Chamber. I was standing there, in front of the arch, and I could here the whispering."

"What whispering?"

"I dunno, it was coming from beyond the archway." Harry looked at Remus. "I know, you can't hear anything, just like so many of the students can't see the Thestrals, but they're still there and they're real."

Remus nodded his head, "OK, I'll accept that you hear whispering, now go on."

"Well, there's not much to say. One of the whispers got louder and then I recognized it as Sirius. He told me he was still alive but he was stuck there."

"Stuck where, Harry?"

"In Limbo, or some sort of a place between life and death. Ghosts are stuck between the two planes too, but are on our side mostly. Sirius is stuck but on the other side."

"What did he say?"

"He said he was there and that it wasn't that bad. He said it was way better than Azkaban and that he could tolerate it. He... he said he could still be here with me in some ways, and that he always would. He didn't want me to do anything stupid to try to get him out. He told me to take care of myself first and not to worry about him."

Remus seemed short of breath and he sat down clumsily on one of the chairs to avoid falling. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing else, really. All of a sudden I was back in my body. Somebody had put me in my bed and Cho was there, waiting."

Remus smiled at this. "Yes, she said her father told her to wait until you came back and that's exactly what she did. That's quite some girl you have there, Harry, not a Gryffindor but still quite some girl."

"Yeah, she is," Harry said, not mentioning that he wasn't the one who had her.

Remus chewed on his lip for a minute then said, "Harry, I'm gong to have to speak with Professor Dumbledore about this." Harry nodded. "We all believe you, but no one understands. We need to look more thoroughly at the situation before we can take action. There are still a lot of questions to be answered."

Harry looked anxious. "But you are going to do something, aren't you? I mean, we can't just leave him there. We've got to get him out."

"Harry, I promise you, we're going to do everything we can to get him out of there. I don't like the thought of him being trapped any more than you do, but we have to be clever about this and do it the right way." Remus stopped for a moment and looked Harry right in the eyes. "But right now, Harry, we have something else we need to talk about... your behavior."

Harry hung his head, he knew that he had been behaving abysmally for, well for about a year, truth be told. Now it was time to pay the piper. Remus drew his wand and muttered a silencing spell. Not a good omen, in Harry's opinion.

"Harry," Remus began calmly, "you're sixteen years old. In another year you will be an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world and able to make all your own decisions about where and how you live your life. But be that as it may, right now you are not an adult. You are a child."

Harry wanted to snap that he wasn't a child and that he had faced things that many adults hadn't or couldn't, but somehow he managed to remain silent. He had earned this lecture with his own behavior and now he would have it.

Remus continued, "You are also in rather unusual situation. When Sirius was alive..." Harry bristled, Remus balked then continued, "I mean when Sirius was physically here, we were faced with a strange dilemma. He was your legal godfather but a fugitive, Professor Dumbledore was willing to accept his authority but the Ministry would not. Legally, in both the magical and muggle worlds, your guardians were your aunt and uncle, but Dumbledore listened to Sirius. He didn't want you to be under the control of the Dursleys any more than necessary. Everyone agreed with that concept, especially you, I'd wager." Harry nodded and wondered where this was going. "Now that Sirius isn't here to play that role, at least to Dumbledore, there is little to do but give full authority back to the Dursleys." Harry's head sank; he was going to be stuck here on Privet Drive forever. Remus waited a beat for this thought to fully reach Harry. "However, Dumbledore and the rest of us realize that given their druthers, the Dursleys would just chuck you out and forget about the whole thing."

"You say that like it would be a bad thing. At least I'd be away from here," Harry said woefully.

"Yes, Harry, that would be a bad thing. The protections you have while residing, at least nominally, here with your family are vitally important in keeping you safe."

"Until I turn seventeen, next summer," Harry said. "Then all bets are off."

"Exactly, and there lies the dilemma. Who should have authority over you for the next year?"

Harry thought about this. His first choice for a guardian would have been Remus himself, but Harry wouldn't dare suggest it. What if Remus didn't want to be saddled with a rebellious teenage boy? Why would he? Why would anyone? "Well, there's always the Weasleys, maybe they would be willing to take me?"

Remus looked at the boy, hope glittering in his green eyes. He had wished that Harry would ask him to do it, even though Remus knew this was impossible. He knew that the Weasleys were the best choice but still he felt injured at being overlooked. "Unfortunately, that won't work either. If anyone accepts legal responsibility for you then the protections you have from living here would be nullified."

"So, we're back to the Dursleys," Harry said morosely.

"Yes, we are, and the sad fact that no one wants you to be involved with them any more than you have to."

"But what else is there?" Harry asked.

"Well, Dumbledore reckons there is only one person who can accept responsibility for you yet still maintain the protections."

"Who's that?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, Harry, you. Legally, in both the magical and muggle worlds, your aunt and uncle will still have authority over you but, for all practical purposes, Dumbledore has agreed to treat you like an adult, as if you had already come of age."

Harry was stunned, he couldn't believe his luck. They weren't going to punish him, they were setting him free. He suddenly realized how Dobby must have felt when he pulled that filthy sock out of the ruined diary.

"You mean I'm free?" he asked incredulously.

Remus looked at the shining face before him. Dumbledore had told him exactly what to expect and, so far, the old wizard had been dead on. Now was the time to hit the boy with some realities.

"Harry, do you know what it means to be free?" he asked, just as the Headmaster had told him to.

"Yeah! It means that nobody gets to boss me around anymore. I get to make my own rules and my own decisions. I don't have to answer to anybody!" The boy was practically jumping for joy right there in the kitchen.

"No, Harry. Freedom is not the absence of responsibility; it is the acceptance of it."

Harry looked confused and Remus let him stay that way for a moment.

"If you want to be unaccountable, to not have to answer to anybody, then stay a child. If you want to be an adult, then you have to answer to everybody." Now Harry looked even more confused. "You will have to accept full responsibility for your actions. You can no longer blame anyone else or ask anyone else to take care of the messes you make." Harry now sat still in his chair, his exuberance upon hearing the news of his emancipation had evaporated. "Let's take that new motorbike of yours as an example. It's yours, Sirius bought it for you as a gift, but legally you aren't permitted to ride it until your seventeen. You can physically ride it obviously, but not legally. You're breaking the law."

Harry thought about this and shrugged.

"You're taking this rather lightly, Harry," Remus said.

"Well, I'm not likely to get caught, am I? And I can always turn the bike invisible and get away."

"Then you risk violating the statutes against underage sorcery, and that means expulsion."

"So, I guess I'll have to just deal with the muggle authorities then."

"And what will they do?"

Harry thought again, "Most likely, they'll call here."

"And how do you think your aunt and uncle will react to being called by the police because you were breaking the law."

Harry didn't even want to think about that.

"Nobody's going to try to stop you from riding that bike, Harry, but just know that no one is going to help you if you get into trouble on it either. You're going to have to accept responsibility for your own actions." Harry nodded, this he could live with. Remus continued, "And what if you get in an accident?" Harry was looking at him again. "Say you're out grandstanding on the bike, and don't even begin to try and tell me that Sirius hasn't shown you how to do any of that." Harry's cheeks flamed. "Say you're out pulling some stunt that Sirius taught you. Then, say you wind up running into a lorry somewhere. What happens?"

"I'd likely kill myself," Harry said. He expected he was going to receive a lecture on how the whole wizarding world is counting on him and he can't go taking foolish risks, but he was wrong.

"Yes, but what about the fellow driving that lorry?"

"He isn't likely to be getting hurt," Harry said bewildered.

"No, but how will he feel? How did you feel after Cedric was killed?" Remus knew that this was a low blow and the stricken look on Harry's face told how low it was, but Harry had to understand. "You weren't responsible for Cedric's death, were you?" Harry shook his head, memories of the guilt he felt over Cedric's death echoing in his mind. "But you were still affected. Do you want anyone to go through that because of you?"

"But it wouldn't be his fault," Harry whined.

"Was Cedric's death your fault? Did that make any difference in how you felt?" Again a shake. "This is a lesson you already know, Harry, but I want to make sure you absolutely remember. Our actions have consequences that we can not predict. Adults accept responsibility for their actions and the consequences, all of the consequences, known and unknown. Children don't have to. Children have people who take that responsibility for them. So, Harry, do you want to be an adult, or a child?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't really have much choice, do I?"

"No, Harry," Remus said sadly, "you don't, and I'm truly sorry for that. Ironic, isn't it? Freedom is more restricting than servitude." Harry nodded slowly; this hadn't turned out the way he had expected. "So, there it is. While you're on holiday, you are free to use your own judgment on what to do and how to behave, but the consequences are yours to bear. When you return to school, however, you will still have to abide by the headmaster and the school's rules."

The elation Harry has felt at being told he would be treated as an adult had turned to another weight on his shoulders. Did it ever get any easier?

"Harry," Remus was speaking again, "I want you to know that all of us, including Sirius, care a great deal about you. We all wanted nothing more than to give you as normal a childhood as we could."

"Didn't turn out that way, did it?" Harry said mournfully.

"No, it didn't," Remus answered sadly. "You never really had any childhood at all, did you? A few moments here and there maybe, with your friends or playing Quidditch, but not a real childhood." The two men looked at each other, one old and one young. "We did the best we could for you, Harry."

"I know you did," Harry answered. "It's not your fault."

Remus nodded. "But somehow that doesn't make it any better."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither wanting to speak but both unwilling to part. Then a thought occurred to Harry and he brightened considerably.

"If Dumbledore agrees to consider me as an adult, does that mean I'll be able to join the Order?"

"No, Harry, not until you're officially of age and out of school. Those are the rules, and there will be no exceptions." Harry's crestfallen look tugged at Remus' heart. He loved this boy and he wished with all his heart that he could make things easier for him, but he couldn't. "But Dumbledore did agree that you shouldn't be kept completely out of it. He said he would try to be more open with you about what is going on, but only if you agreed to do the same."

"What?"

"Harry, you've got to stop hiding things from Dumbledore and the rest of us."

"But I don't..." Harry began.

"Don't bother with excuses, Harry. You knew that those dreams were important, didn't you? Even if you didn't know what they meant, you knew they meant something."

Harry was getting hot again. "Well, if somebody had been kind enough to..."

Remus got a little hot as well. "Now don't start that with me again, Harry. Be an adult and own up to your mistakes!" Harry shut his mouth and Remus continued. "We've all made mistakes. Dumbledore has already admitted that he shouldn't have kept you in the dark, so now it's time for you to admit you were a bit too pig-headed as well."

Harry thought for a moment. If they were going to treat him more like an adult, he would have to be more honest, with them and with himself. "Yeah," he said at length, "I knew they meant something, but I was just too angry at being locked out of things here. I didn't tell anyone about the dreams out of spite." Remus grinned to himself, Dumbledore had figured the whole thing out. He had known, almost to the very words Harry spoke, how Harry would react.

"Well, just like you said yesterday, a door works both ways. If you will try to tell us everything that you know is important, then we'll keep you informed as well."

"You mean, you'll tell me everything?"

Now it was Remus' turn to shake his head. "No, Harry, Dumbledore doesn't tell anyone everything, and well he shouldn't. Even I don't get to be told everything."

"Well, what about Snape," at a look from his former teacher Harry quailed, "Professor Snape, Dumbledore trusts him?"

"It's not about trust, Harry. It's just how things have to be. I reckon everyone is rather relieved now to know that Professor Snape didn't know everything, don't you agree?"

Harry nodded his head. "So, I agree to tell Dumbledore everything I know and everything that I find out, and he agrees to tell me only what he wants to?"

"Yeah, that's just about the way it works."

"That sucks."

"Welcome to the world of adults, Harry," Remus said with a sardonic grin. "Oh, by the way, the Weasleys are going to try again to have a party for you. If you want to go, it's this afternoon at the Burrow."

"And I'm only being told now?" Harry snapped.

"Hey!" Remus snapped back, "One, they only decided to have it yesterday. Two, I got here faster than an owl would have with the message. And three, keeping everything short notice makes it less likely that Voldemort will find out and try to mess it up for you. So lighten up, Harry, people are only trying to be nice to you."

* * * * *

With a sooty tumble, Harry fell out of the fireplace grate at the Burrow and was immediately engulfed in one of Mrs. Weasley's immense hugs. Extricating himself, Harry looked around and let the homey feeling of being at the Burrow just sink into him.

"We're so glad you could come, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said with a broad smile.

"Oh, I'm glad to be here," Harry replied as he continued to let the feeling of being back at the Burrow soak into his skin. There was the distinctive smell of freshly baked bread that always seemed to linger in the kitchen here. It made the place feel so much like... like a home that Harry was always happy to be here. "And I want to thank you for throwing me this party, well both parties actually. You really didn't have to."

"But we wanted to, Harry dear. We wanted to."

Just then the door burst open and Ron came in, holding a letter above his head. Seeing Harry standing there, he stopped.

"Harry, mate!" he called. "You made it! I didn't know when you were going to show up, and nobody told me how."

"Well," Harry said blushing slightly, "I didn't know myself until just before lunch. I took a muggle train to London and then Floo-ed here from The Leaky Cauldron."

"Why didn't Dumbledore just send you a portkey?" Ron asked. "It would have been a lot simpler."

"I never got 'round to asking him," Harry said and, from the sudden cloud that passed over Mrs. Weasley's face, he could tell that she knew about his new arrangement with Dumbledore and wasn't pleased with it. In fact, Harry himself wasn't sure how pleased he was with it right now. Remus had said his good-byes and left before Harry could think to ask how he was getting to the Burrow. Then he realized that no one was going to tell him. If he was going, then it was his responsibility to find a way there.

Ron looked about to ask more, but just then Hermione came crashing into the kitchen and quickly snatched the letter out of Ron's hand before he realized she was there.

"Ha! Got it back," she crowed in triumph. "Honestly, Ron Weasley, you can act so immaturely sometimes... Oh, hullo Harry. Did you just get here?" She quickly came over and gave him a brief but strong hug.

"Yeah, just now. What was all that about?" Harry asked.

Ron beamed with mischief, "Oh! Our little Hermione got herself a letter, quite a thick one too. I wonder who it's from."

Hermione glared at him. "It's from Viktor, if you must know."

Ron's face suddenly grew tense. "And what does our little Vicky want now?"

"For your information, Ronald, he isn't our Viktor and he wants nothing from you. This letter is addressed to me, and it's personal." With that she stalked out of the room and up the stairs. Ron looked after her then gave Harry a bewildered shrug.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said with finality, "I think it's about time we got this celebration on track."

Herding them all out into the garden and, with a wave of her wand, summoning a huge platter of sandwiches through the kitchen window, Mrs. Weasley closed the door and the conversation. The garden was the usual tempest of activity. The twins were chasing a garden gnome around the fence, carrying an odd little device in one of their hands that Harry didn't want to identify. Ron was stalking off to join them, still in a huff over Hermione and Viktor. Ginny was sitting on one of the benches holding hands with... was that Dean Thomas? Ginny had said that she was planning on dating him next, Harry thought with an odd sense of envy. I guess she did it.

"All right, you lot," Molly called out to the crowd. "Let's all gather around and have some lunch."

"Finally," shouted one of the twins, while the other put something in his pocket, "I'm starving. I tell you, Harry, if you didn't show up soon, we were going to have another party without you!"

"Aw, don't look so worried, Harry," his match chimed in, "we would have saved you something... maybe."

Harry was looking around at the group when Mrs. Weasley caught his eye.

"Harry dear, I want you to know that we invited Cho but, since this was all so last minute, she was busy and couldn't make it."

Harry was nodding his understanding when Ginny spoke up, "I kind of got the feeling that she had a date with Michael." Harry looked over at her and she returned his gaze, wide-eyed and unblushing. "Not that she said so directly, but I just, sort of, got that feeling. They are dating, you know."

Harry nodded again and looked at Ginny curiously, then said simply, "I know."

The meal began and conversations stopped as everyone grabbed sandwiches as the platter drifted up and down the table. Harry had been eating better at the Dursleys this summer than he could ever remember, but there was just something about the Burrow, maybe it was Mrs. Weasley's cooking or maybe it was just the atmosphere, that made him ravenous. Harry smiled, then again it might just be that having so many hands grabbing for the food brought out the competitive streak in him.

After the meal was through, the group sat around talking. The conversation naturally fell into the topic of the coming school year. Hermione was anxious to know if everyone had done their summer assignments, which no one had but her. Ron wondered who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be and no one had any idea. Although everyone hoped it would be Professor Lupin and almost everyone doubted whoever it was could be worse than Umbridge. Surprisingly, Fred and George felt that they owed a lot to 'Dear Dolores', as they referred to her. After all, if it wasn't for her they would have had to waste several more months in school before they opened their joke shop in Diagon Alley. It was all due to her, they said in perfect unison, that the store was open for the Back to School shopping season, their busiest time of year. Throughout all this, Mrs. Weasley was tight lipped and said nothing.

"And what about Quidditch?" Ron said. "Who do you think is going to be captain next year?"

"My guess is Harry," Ginny answered.

"Me?" Harry seemed shocked by this answer. "I'm not even on the team anymore!" The entire table was shocked now. "Com'on, you all remember; I was kicked off last year? Banned for life."

"Yeah, but the Reign of Terror is over; surely you'll be back on the team!" Ron shouted.

"I dunno," Harry said, "nobody's said anything to me about the ban being lifted. But hey, at least you still have a Seeker. Ginny is undefeated and she's at least as good as I ever was."

"Oh no, Harry," Ginny said, blushing at the compliment, "I only played Seeker because I had to. I plan on being a Chaser this year!"

"You'd rather be a Chaser than a Seeker?" Harry asked.

"Sure, there's more action. I hated just sitting up there and waiting for the Snitch to show up. When I see something I want, I go after it!" Ginny said with conviction.

Every pair of eyes at the table looked at Ginny and then slowly shifted to Dean, who was sitting next to her. The twins were grinning maliciously while Ron just glowered.

Dean flushed under this onslaught and stammered, "I'm, ah... I'm done here... I mean, I'm finished eating... I... I reckon I'll just go for a walk." He rose hastily from the table and fled.

Ron and the twins were laughing hysterically and Harry was hard pressed to stifle the guffaws that were struggling to escape. Ginny turned on him with a glare and Harry gulped.

"And just what do YOU find so funny, eh? Rest assured, Harry Potter, that if it was your scrawny arse I wanted, you'd be stuffed and mounted on my wall before you knew what hit you!" She then rose and flounced off, in the opposite direction from Dean.

Fred looked incredulous and asked, "Did our little Ginny just tell Harry Potter to get stuffed?"

"THE Harry Potter," added George.

"I think so," Ron answered, equally stunned.

Hermione just smiled, dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and excused herself to go inside and read her letter.

Harry finished his lunch and wandered off towards the pasture. He looked up at the clear blue sky and tried to figure out how long it had been since he had ridden his broom. It had been more than a month since his ride on the Thestral and months more since his last Quidditch game. His thoughts drifted to Ginny flying as Seeker and how well she played. He could only imagine what the match-up between her and Cho had been like. He shook his head at the thought when a voice spoke up.

"A Knut to know?"

"What?" Harry turned and saw Ginny standing next to him. So engrossed was he in his own thoughts that he didn't even hear her approach.

"A Knut to know," she repeated, "your thoughts. What were you just thinking about?"

"Oh," Harry hesitated, "nothing much really."

"It was Cho, I'll bet," Ginny responded, sounding slightly miffed. "I don't know what you see in her."

"Com'on Ginny, lay off. Cho's nice."

"Yeah, nice and weepy. Really, Harry, you know she's still going with Michael, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know, so what? Cho and I are just friends."

Ginny gave a loud snort and replied, "Just friends? You really expect people to believe that? Can't you see, you're just wasting your time?"

Harry turned on her, anger and hurt mixed equally on his face. "Listen, I don't care what people believe. They'll believe that I'm a liar, or a show-off, or a nutter, or just a freak no matter what I want." Ginny quailed a bit at Harry's rant, she had no idea he felt this way. "All I can do is tell the truth and let them believe whatever they want. Cho is my friend, and we're spending some time together this summer. That's it."

The Weasley stubborn streak ran deep in Ginny and she refused to let up. "Yeah, right. Well, you know that once we're headed back to Hogwarts, she'll be back with Michael. Nothing's going to come of it, so why bother?"

Harry looked at her. "You're seeing Dean now, right?" Ginny nodded. "So when are you two getting married?"

Shocked by this question, Ginny instinctively replied in an almost shout, "We're not getting married! I don't even love him!" After she realized what she had said, she blushed a deep Weasley red.

"What?" Harry said, feigning shock. "You mean you're seeing him and you're not planning on marrying him? Why bother?" Ginny's mouth closed with a snap and Harry continued. "Let me guess... Because it's nice? It's nice to have someone to talk with, or take a walk with, hold hands with, maybe even snog a bit? Is that it?"

Ginny squirmed under Harry's intense gaze. "Yeah, it's nice," she said defiantly.

"Yeah," Harry snapped, "it is. So what if it's going to end? Right now, it's nice."

"But, Harry, you and Cho... it's just not... normal."

Harry was really beginning to get angry now. He glared down at Ginny and watched as she dropped her eyes. "Not normal? What's so not normal about it? You're not in love with Dean but it's normal that you still date him?"

Ginny looked at Harry defiantly now, her arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah, it's normal. We like each other and we're dating. So what! Do you have a problem with that?" Harry got the sudden impression that she had had this discussion before.

"No," Harry snapped back, "it is perfectly normal. Just like Cho and I, we're friends and we spend time together. Perfectly normal."

"Oh, come on, Harry! Everybody knows that she is just using you to get over Cedric."

Harry stared at her, aghast. "When you say 'everybody', do you mean everybody or just you?" he said pointedly.

Ginny squirmed under his gaze and finally responded, "Well, you can't deny it, can you?"

"No, and I wouldn't bother. She cared a lot for Cedric and, when he was killed, she had no where to turn. I thought you, more than anyone, wouldn't be so cold as to deny her the opportunity to work through what happened to her." Ginny's cheeks flushed red again, but she remained defiant.

"But what are you getting out of it?"

"Why do I need to get anything out of it? I'm not some Slytherin, trying to make sure I get a profit from everything I do!"

"No," she said, hurt that his comments had cut so deeply or been so on the mark, "but it would be nice if things were a bit balanced, you know."

"Well, I get to help a friend," Harry said. Now it was Ginny's turn to glare at him. "Fine," he continued, "I get to spend time with a pretty girl. I get to walk with her, and talk, and hold her hand. Maybe even kiss her. Is that so bad?" Ginny shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut her off, "Don't bother. It might not be what you consider normal, but it's as close as I'm ever bloody likely to get." With this said, he turned away from her and started walking swiftly towards Ron. Ginny stared after him, a slight blush still on her cheeks but her brow knit with thought.

Ron jumped at Harry's idea of an impromptu Quidditch game. They quickly gathered all the brooms available, Harry had left his Firebolt back at Privet Drive, and started sorting out teams. Hermione, of course, refused to play.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked. "I'm sure she'd be up for a game."

Nobody knew where she had gone off to, even Dean. Then Mrs. Weasley stuck her head out of the kitchen window and said that Ginny had to run a quick errand and would be back shortly.

They didn't have enough people for a decent pick-up game, so they opted to run some drills instead. Ron played keeper, with Harry and Dean playing Chasers, trying to score against him. The twins were acting as beaters, charming apples to chase the Chasers and whack them in the back of the head if they caught up. The only way to stop an apple was to catch it and bite it, but since they weren't quite ripe yet it was preferable to just throw them back at the twins.

Ron was doing really well; he could stop almost all of Dean's shots and even some of Harry's. The problem was that Harry was nearly suicidal in his ability to ignore the apples pelting him in the head to charge straight at Ron and force him to duck before he tossed the Quaffle against the bole of the tree that acted as their goal. Not wanting any nearby muggles to see them flying, they were forced to stay below the tops of the trees. The nearness of the ground making everyone fly a little slower, except Harry of course

The drill had gone on for over an hour and everyone was starting to get tired, again except Harry. His zeal was still as great as it was when they began. He was tearing up the pasture, the Quaffle in one hand and two apples in the other. He managed to throw the apples at the twins, his broom veering wildly off course as he did so, then switch the Quaffle to his right hand, spin the broom into a corkscrewing assault on Ron and bounce the Quaffle off the tree trunk.

The sound of laughter broke his concentration before he could complete his turn away from the trees and a stray branch sent him tumbling to the ground. He looked around in a daze.

"Harry!" a familiar voice called. "You are absolutely the most barking mad flier I have ever seen!"

"CHO!" Harry called, seeing her standing at the entrance to the pasture, Ginny a step behind her.

Leaping to his feet, Harry dashed across the meadow. Ginny's face suddenly sprouted a disgusted grimace. But then, just short of the point where everyone expected Harry to throw his arms around Cho and spin her in circles, Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

"I, uh, I thought you weren't coming," he stammered. Cho took a quick look over her shoulder at Ginny then turned back and smiled.

"I changed my mind," she said casually. "It's a woman's prerogative, you know."

Harry just shook his head and continued grinning broadly. "I'm just glad you could make it."

"And I'm just glad you survived hitting the ground!" Cho exclaimed. "That was the most completely insane bit of flying I've ever seen!"

"It was kind of fun, wasn't it?"

"You call that fun!" Cho was genuinely shocked. "It's a good thing that you're a Seeker, Harry. At least you only go after the Golden Snitch once a game! If you flew as a Chaser, I doubt you'd have survived you're first match."

"You want to come up and join us?" Harry asked. "It's perfect flying weather." But then he noticed what she was wearing. It was a short sundress, with yellow flowers on the skirt and a halter top that showed off the smooth skin of her shoulders wonderfully. It was the same dress that she had been wearing on his birthday but he hadn't had a chance to see her in it then.

"I don't think I'm quite dressed for Quidditch, do you?" she asked coyly.

Harry blushed. Ron was about to make a comment but before he could speak, Harry's arm whirled back and smacked him on the shoulder. The twins took advantage of the opportunity and linked arms with Cho, one on each side.

"I wouldn't worry for a second," one said.

"No," continued the other, "we'll have you out of that dress in half a mo'."

Cho grinned at them, enjoying the banter and the attention. "You will, will you?"

"Of course," came the response.

"It's the Weasley charm, gets 'em every time!"

"One look and you fall hopelessly in love."

"That explains everything," Cho said giggling. "You two must have a mirror in your bedroom!"

Fred clutched at his heart while George collapsed as if in a faint.

"You wound us, good lady..."

"...wound us to the quick with your sharp tongue."

Cho looked at the two of them and sharply replied, "You wish!"

They all began to head back to the Burrow. Harry turned towards Ginny and she gave him a weak smile as he mouthed, "Thanks."

Mrs. Weasley saw the group coming and immediately sat them around the table once again.

"All right now Harry," she said when they had all settled in, "which will it be first: cake or presents?"

"Cake!" Ron, the twins, and Dean all shouted.

"After all," Fred explained, "we're not getting any presents so we might as well enjoy the cake!"

Harry looked around him and laughed, "Who am I to argue with the will of the people?"

"You're the Birthday Boy, you git!" Ron shouted, giving him a sock in the arm to make up for the one he had received a few moments earlier.

"Oh yeah, I am, aren't I? In that case... definitely presents!"

The small pile of presents was placed on the table and Harry looked at them in wonder. It was as if he was wondering why so many people would bother to give him gifts just because he had survived another year. Taking a parcel from the top of the pile, Harry read the card, it was from Ron and Hermione.

"Thanks guys," Harry said quietly.

"Don't thank us yet, Harry, you haven't seen what it is," Ron joked.

Harry unwrapped the gift. It was a thick book on Occlumency. Harry began to flip though the pages and realized that, now that he had a bit of a grounding in the subject, he could actually almost make sense of it.

"This should be a big help, thanks."

"Ours next, ours next," the twins called and thrust a box roughly into Harry's hands.

Cho noticed that everyone was leaning back, away from the package, as Harry gingerly unwrapped it. Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, she also slid a bit further away from him on the bench.

All their caution was for nothing as Harry reached into the box and withdrew a small card. It was yellow and all anyone but Harry could see was a large question mark decorating the back. Reading it, Harry broke into a huge grin and quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

"Well," a frustrated Ron said, "aren't you gonna tell us what it says?"

"Nope," Harry replied, but then he fixed the twins with a glare, "and you two had better mind your promise!"

"Not to worry, Harry mate," they sang out, "you're as safe as a Galleon in Gringotts."

None of Harry's other presents caused as much hesitation as the twins'. Mrs. Weasley gave him another of her home-made jumpers and a box of delicious home-made fudge. The fudge was immediately christened 'Minister' and passed around the table, not making it back to Harry until it was completely empty. 'Just like its namesake' Ron commented as Harry turned the box upside-down and shook it to see the merest crumb remained. Ginny gave him a pair of cozy woolen socks, with a large dragon embroidered on each ankle. Ron and the twins thought this gift extremely telling but Ginny said, with a blush, that her mum was teaching her to knit and this seemed a more reasonably sized project than a whole jumper. Remus Lupin had sent him a stack of DADA textbooks, along with a note stating that he had found these quite useful when he was teaching and thought that he would pass them on to Harry. Hagrid sent him, or actually he sent Hedwig, a new cage of ornately wrought iron as well as a box of his trademark rock fudge, that was promptly named 'Cornelius' and left to sit alone and undisturbed by everyone. The last present was wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with twine. Harry looked questioningly around the table. Cho spoke up.

"That's mine," she said shyly, "actually, it's from my father."

Harry looked at her curiously for a moment then began to remove the paper. Inside was a small cast iron pot with three legs. Two handles were formed to resemble flowering vines. There was also a bamboo ladle.

"It's a ting," Cho said, obviously surprised at what the package had contained.

Ron responded, "Oh, it's a thing all right, but what?"

"Not a thing," Cho explained, "a ting."

"Oh, that explains every-ting," Ron said sarcastically, then winced as Hermione cuffed his shoulder.

"It's a ceremonial vessel used to aid in prayers and meditation," Cho continued.

Ron and the twins were obviously not interested, Hermione looked on with her brows furrowed, and Ginny looked to be struggling to contain some giggles.

"It was made by my grandfather over a hundred years ago," Cho said. "It was one of the few things that my parents were able to take with them when they fled the revolution in China thirty years ago."

Harry looked at her, wide-eyed. "How do you use it?" he asked.

Cho reached into the vessel and took out two small sheets of parchment. The first read: 'Place two ladles of water into the ting and then fill the ladle a third time.' Harry took the pitcher of water from the table and poured two ladles of water into the cast iron pot, then he filled the ladle a third time. Raising an eyebrow at Cho in an unspoken question, Harry brought the filled ladle towards the ting. He felt the ladle suddenly go weightless in his hand and he released it. It hung in the air over the pot and slowly tilted, dripping water into the pot a single drop at a time.

Harry had a wondrous look on his face as the water slowly dripped, each drop sounding hollow in the vessel and echoing slightly.

"It's brilliant," Harry whispered as if he were in a church rather than the back garden of the Burrow.

"What does the second note say?" Ginny asked with a slightly disappointed-looking frown on her face.

Cho flipped over to the second piece of parchment. "It's from my father," Cho said, "and it reads: 'The pot is made of iron but it is the emptiness that makes it useful.'"

"Oh," Ginny mumbled caustically, "that explains everything."

"It's a Koan, Ginny," Harry said calmly. "It's just something to think about."

Ginny looked at him for a moment then shook her head as if he had just explained that the moon was made of green cheese and actually expected her to believe it.

After this Molly brought out a huge chocolate cake and everyone set to devouring it with great enthusiasm. A plate of biscuits was also passed around the table. Ginny innocently held the plate out to Cho, who took a biscuit and passed the plate on to Harry. Harry declined and had just sent the plate on its way when there was aloud POP from beside him as Cho was replaced by a large, yellow and rather agitated canary.

"Ah," began George, "Weasley Roulette..."

"... such a wonderful family tradition," concluded Fred.

Everyone at the table roared with laughter as Molly prepared to launch an angry tirade against her twin sons. Harry noticed that canary-Cho seemed too agitated, not amused nor even angry. Harry suddenly realized that she was scared, that she had no idea what was going on; she had likely never seen a Canary Cream before and didn't understand that they were just a gag. Harry quickly snatched the remainder of the biscuit from the table and gulped it down. In a moment, he was also transformed into a yellow canary and he immediately began to twitter with Cho. She quickly settled down as the two birds continued to chatter at each other.

George looked at the couple then said, "Seems like fun, should we join them?"

Fred began to scrounge in his robes, pulling out several packets of biscuits when Ginny cut him off with a scowl.

"Don't bother," she snapped. "It looks like they're doing just fine on their own.