Harry Potter and the Missing Memories

Chapter 4

The Best Birthday

Harry stayed in the garden for quite some time after Arabella had gone indoors, lost in his thoughts. When Arabella did reappear, she was carrying a large tray laden with salads, cold meats and pasties.

"Lunchtime," she said brightly, placing the tray on the table. It didn't seem five minutes since breakfast, the time had flown by so fast, but now that she mentioned it, Harry did feel hungry again. He sat down at the table once more and gratefully loaded his plate with a bit of everything. Over lunch he and Arabella chatted about mundane things, such as the house, the garden, the weather and, of course, the cats. She seemed to have a very great affection for the cats that was definitely a lot more than just part of her 'cover'. Harry asked how many cats she'd looked after in the last fifteen years that she'd lived there.

She thought for a moment or two and then replied, "One hundred and seventeen in all, I think. And I currently have twenty-one." That many! Harry now had no doubts as to why the photo album was so large.

They finished lunch and sat in contented silence for a few minutes, watching the butterflies flit over the long grass that was going to seed. Then Arabella turned to Harry, a more serious expression on her face. He wondered what she was about to say, she looked so grave.

Then she said, "Harry, to keep up appearances while you're here, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to do a few chores for me, otherwise Petunia will think I've been far too easy on you. It might arouse suspicion. I'm sorry to have to ask you, and I hope you don't mind."

"Er, okay," Harry replied, quite relieved that it was nothing more serious. "What would you like me to do?" Not quite a holiday then...

"From what my cats tell me, you like being outside, so maybe you could tame the front garden a bit for me - it's not too big, and the effect would be noticeable. But do let your lunch go down first, dear."

From what my cats tell me... Did that mean what he thought it meant? But even as his mouth opened to ask the question, Arabella answered it for him. She seemed to have a knack of doing that.

"Yes, Harry, the cats are my eyes and ears inside the web, and yes, I can understand them. Snakes aren't the only animals one can converse with, you know. Such overlooked creatures, cats are, and therefore so useful."

"You can speak cat-language?" he asked, looking at her with renewed interest.

"Yes, I can, my dear," she replied. "You can speak Parseltongue, and I can speak Felinargo. Like yours, it's quite a rare gift, and like yours it tends to be treated with a certain suspicion. People always seem to distrust what is out of the ordinary."

"Could you show me? I mean, if you don't mind."

Arabella smiled. Then she bent down and held out her hand to a large tabby cat that was emerging from the kitchen. Her lips parted, and the strangest sound emerged. It was a deep, rumbling noise that came directly from her throat, a purr, interspersed now and then with more nasal mewing sounds. It was a very odd experience for Harry, watching Arabella 'talk' to this cat, and he realised this must have been how Ron and Hermione had felt when they'd heard him speak Parseltongue at the duelling club in their second year. The cat, however, didn't seem to think it was odd at all. It approached Arabella and stood, face upturned towards her, purring and mewing in return. Then it looked around sharply at Harry, gave a short mew and headed indoors again. Arabella straightened up.

"That was, um, amazing," said Harry, slightly in awe of her. "What did you actually say?"

"Oh, I just asked Mr Tom how he was feeling today and what he thought of our guest," she replied, smiling again. "He said you smell friendly enough, but that you could do with a few of my special fish suppers to fatten you up a bit."

"So how did you find out you could speak to cats? I mean, I didn't know I could speak Parseltongue until Ron and Hermione told me that's what I was doing."

"I found I could when I was just a little girl," Arabella answered him. "I was about eight years old, and my parents bought me a kitten for Christmas. I just started talking to it straight away, without realising what I was doing, and telling my parents what it wanted. They, of course, were amazed and asked me what I was doing. It was then I listened to myself and realised I was talking a different language. Interesting how we can talk and not actually hear ourselves, isn't it? I didn't find out it was called Felinargo, or that it was so rare, until I went to Hogwarts. Anyway, you'd better make a start on that front garden soon, it might rain later."

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in the front garden, slowly clearing the weeds from the small flowerbed, turning over the hard soil underneath and pulling tufts of grass from the cracks in the path. Arabella headed off to the village centre to do some shopping, her wheeled tartan shopping trolley in tow. He didn't really mind doing this work for her. After all, she was being very good to him. And she was right: Aunt Petunia would be far less likely to ask questions if she could see that he'd been kept busy.

*

That evening, Arabella did indeed cook Harry one of her special fish suppers. It was a massive fish pie with a huge layer of creamy mashed potato, topped with grated cheese and grilled until the cheese had melted and crisped slightly. And it tasted delicious. Harry wasn't sure what sort of fish she'd used, but it was full of flavour and almost melted in his mouth. As he ate, he noticed an increasing number of cats coming into the room from all directions, weaving in and out among the tangle of table, chair and human legs.

"Oh, don't worry about them, Harry," said Arabella, noticing where he was looking. "This is one of their favourites, and they're rather afraid you're going to eat it all! Of course, I've made enough for them too." She purred loudly to the hoard of cats, which immediately moved en masse towards the kitchen. "Please excuse me for a few minutes, while I serve their tea."

After tea, Arabella let Harry take charge of the television remote control, something that he could never usually do at Privet Drive. He spent the evening watching all the sort of interesting documentaries that Dudley wouldn't touch with a bargepole, taking just one break mid-evening to sprint upstairs and fetch Mrs Weasley's rich fruitcake from his bag. Harry had brought it with him thinking he might need it to live on, but now he knew that Arabella was such an excellent cook, he decided to give her the cake as a token of appreciation.

"My friend Ron's mum made it," he said, handing the cake to her. "I thought you might like it."

Arabella's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Harry, I'm very partial to fruitcake. And Molly is supposed to be an excellent cook. Would you mind nipping into the kitchen and getting a couple of plates and a knife? We might as well try some now."

"Do you know Mrs Weasley, Arabella?" Harry asked, returning with the plates.

"By reputation only. We haven't actually met yet, though maybe we will someday soon."

They settled back in their armchairs in front of the television, each with a large piece of fruitcake, to watch a programme on the secret life of dolphins.

When Harry finally got into bed later that evening, he felt very full and very satisfied. It really had been an amazing day, in so many ways. His dreams that night took on a new shape: instead of bats, cages and green light, they were full of cats, fruitcake and trampolines made of spiders' webs.

*

Harry woke up the following morning with a strange but welcome feeling bubbling up inside him. It took him a few seconds to work out what this feeling was: he felt happy. It wasn't a feeling he'd had in a long time, probably not since some time before the Third Task. But it wasn't the sort of elation he'd felt after completing the First and Second Tasks either. It was a deliciously gentle, but unmistakeable contentment that seemed to fill his chest and overflow. He laid there, his hands clasped behind his head, watching the shafts of sunlight falling from the window light up the room, and basked in the warmth of the rays. He tried to analyse why he felt happy and concluded that it was a combination of being well fed and rested, and of being somewhere where there was no pressure to try to be something he was not. Arabella seemed to understand him and accept him as she found him. He began to wonder why he couldn't just stay here all summer, and not go back to the Dursleys. With a bit of luck, they wouldn't come back from Rome at all.

Then he suddenly remembered what day it was. It was Thursday, and that meant it was the 31^st - his birthday! Harry sat up quickly and looked around for Hedwig, wondering if she had brought any cards and presents from his friends, as she usually did, but she was sat in her cage preening herself, not an envelope or a package in sight. Then Harry remembered that he wasn't allowed owl post while he was here. Well, perhaps he would have to wait until Saturday back at Privet Drive for any post. Arabella probably didn't know it was his birthday either. Not that it mattered, Harry was used to not being able to celebrate his birthday properly. Indeed, the Dursleys never usually paid any attention to it at all, and it was only in the last couple of years, since he'd had friends at Hogwarts, that he'd received his first birthday cards. But even if Arabella didn't know, it was still likely to be the most pleasant birthday he'd ever had.

Harry eventually got up, dressed and went downstairs to the lounge, where Arabella was sitting reading a Muggle newspaper. She looked up as he entered.

"Good morning, Harry dear," she said, smiling and putting the paper to one side. "Come and sit down and I'll get you some breakfast."

Harry sat down at the little table over near the back window, where a place had already been set for him, and watched a few of the cats lazing about in the sun outside the window. Arabella emerged from the kitchen carrying his breakfast on a tray: scrambled egg on toast and a mug of tea. Beside the plate on the tray, Harry noticed a few envelopes, and a wide smile broke out on his face. Birthday cards!

"I understand congratulations are in order," she said, unloading the tray and handing him the envelopes. "These arrived for you first thing this morning."

Harry picked up the envelopes, which were a variety of sizes and colours. The first one Harry recognised immediately from the neat handwriting as being from Hermione. It was a small card with a picture of a birthday cake on the front, and it played 'Happy Birthday' whenever the card was opened. But, true to Hermione, it wasn't the usual musical card Muggles sometimes buy. It was charmed to play the tune with full orchestral and choral backing. It sounded beautiful, but rather loud, so as soon as he'd listened to it once through, Harry shut the card and turned his attention to the next envelope. This was a rather large pink envelope with untidy handwriting on the front, and when Harry looked on the back, he saw a motif of two crossed wands emitting stars. The Beauxbatons crest? Harry opened the envelope curiously and found inside a card and note from Hagrid.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! Hope you have a good day. Me and Olympe are still travelling round Europe. Plenty to do. Should be back in time for school on September 1st, but it'll be a close thing. I'll see you there.

Take care,

Hagrid.

Harry didn't know exactly what Hagrid was doing in Europe with Madame Maxime, but he suspected that Dumbledore had asked them to go as envoys to the giants. He hoped they were being careful, as giants weren't reputed to be friendly, even to their own kind. The third and final envelope contained a card from Ron, which had a picture of his favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, on the front, zooming around on their broomsticks and waving at him.

Harry stood all three cards up in the middle of the table and tucked into his breakfast, gazing at them and thinking about his friends. And he'd thought he wouldn't get any cards until he got back to Privet Drive! But if owl post wasn't allowed, how had these cards arrived? This puzzled him, so when Arabella came back into the room again, he asked her.

"Well, I can't be totally cut off from the wizarding world, can I?" She answered mildly. "But I do have to be very careful about who knows where I am and why. So I have a contact person in the magical community who collects post for me and forwards it to me at a pre-arranged time each day by Floo Express. It's a dedicated link, so no one else can come to my fireplace by Floo, and I can only go to the one place from my fire. The owls have their own system of communicating special arrangements for post delivery, so they know where to leave my post. And if any owls try to come here instead, the cats intervene and redirect them. Does that answer your question, Harry?"

Harry nodded, finishing the last mouthful of toast.

Just then, the little white cat called Albus came tearing through the door from the kitchen, mewing frantically, and took refuge behind the sofa. Arabella looked slightly taken aback for a moment, reached for a walking stick that was hung over the back of the sofa and looked back round the door into the kitchen. Then her face broke into a beaming smile and she turned back to Harry, holding the door ajar.

"You have a visitor, Harry," she said, as a large, black, shaggy dog trotted past her into the lounge.

Harry recognised the animal at once. "Sirius!" he yelled in delight, jumping to his feet and starting towards it. The dog shook its head and transformed into his godfather, Sirius Black.

"Harry!" he replied, striding across the room and giving Harry a bone-crushing hug. "It's so good to see you. You didn't think I'd miss your birthday, did you? Especially as you're on friendly territory this year." He turned and winked at Arabella. "So how are you, Harry? Has Bella been treating you well?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, "and Arabella has been wonderful. She's a really excellent cook, you know."

"I know, Harry, I've been on the receiving end of a fair few fish suppers myself in the last month or so!" Sirius patted his stomach as he said this. Now that Harry looked closely at his godfather, he could see that Sirius had filled out a bit since they had last met. Not only had Sirius put on some weight again, which certainly suited him well, but he had also cut his hair, shaved and acquired some clean new robes.

"Well, I think you two boys have plenty to talk about," said Arabella, heading for the hall, "so I'm going to collect my pension and go to the coffee morning at the village hall. Do help yourselves to drinks and food from the kitchen while I'm gone."

After Arabella left, Harry and Sirius settled themselves down in the lounge with the rest of Mrs Weasley's fruitcake and a pot of coffee and talked. This was what Harry had wanted most, what he had often dreamed of, to have someone to talk to freely, who was older and would understand, to have someone like a father in his life. He savoured every moment, hung on every word, as Sirius explained what he had been doing since he had left the hospital wing at Hogwarts just over five weeks before.

Sirius had done exactly as Professor Dumbledore had requested; he had made contact with a number of witches and wizards who had worked closely with Dumbledore against Voldemort at the height of his power, including Arabella Figg and Remus Lupin. Many of them had initially been very suspicious of Sirius, and it had taken some time, and in one or two cases an owl from Dumbledore himself, before they accepted what he told them about Voldemort's return and the status of Peter Pettigrew. His base had been at Lupin's cottage on Dartmoor.

"Remus sends his greetings, Harry. He says he would have come to visit you today as well, but the time of the month did not permit," said Sirius, with a wry smile.

"How is Professor Lupin - I mean Remus?" Harry asked. It seemed strange to Harry to be talking about teachers, past or present, on first name terms. He had very fond memories of Professor Lupin's classes at Hogwarts in his third year and had been very sad to see him leave. He had certainly been the best genuine Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher they'd ever had.

"Oh, he's OK," Sirius answered with a sigh. "But he hasn't found any work since he left his job at Hogwarts. No one wants to take on a werewolf, even if the condition can be controlled by Wolfsbane potion. His parents left him a house and enough gold for the first few years after they died, but to say his finances are tight now is a bit of an understatement. These terrible things always seem to happen to the gentlest and nicest people. So, what about you, Harry? How have you been since I saw you last?"

Harry began to recount everything that had happened since that night in the hospital wing after the Third Task, including the bits he'd already mentioned in his letters to Sirius: about the Leaving Feast, the reactions of the other students towards him, Rita Skeeter's capture, Draco Malfoy's comments on the train home, and the nightmares he'd been having since arriving back at Privet Drive. He also told Sirius about the Dursleys' trip to Rome and Dudley's strange behaviour.

"Better be careful there, Harry," Sirius commented. "A leopard doesn't change its spots easily. It wouldn't take much to undo the good this nurse seems to have done, so the less ammunition you give him to use against you later the better."

They also talked at length about Cedric Diggory and the guilt that Harry still felt about his death. They went through the last part of the Third Task again, blow by blow, from Harry rescuing Cedric from Krum onwards, analysing who should have got to the Cup first.

"If I hadn't stopped to help Cedric, then he wouldn't have got to the Cup at all."

"If you hadn't stopped to help him, then he might have been killed anyway. Krum was acting under the Imperius curse, and who is to say that the next order he followed might not have been the Killing Curse. You did the right thing."

"And then that giant spider - I tried to stop it attacking Cedric and it turned on me. If I hadn't, then I would have got to the Cup first, and Cedric would just have been hurt. He wouldn't have died."

"You don't know that, Harry. You just did what was right and noble at the time, as did Cedric. Hindsight can be a terrible thing, and none of us ever get to know what would really have happened if one bit changed. No one is blaming you for this, Harry, not in the least."

"But I'm blaming me!" retorted Harry hotly, struggling to keep his voice steady. "And some of the others at school are blaming me, and Cho - I don't know how I'm ever going to face her again..." His voice finally gave way, and he buried his face in his hands.

Sirius placed his hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder. After a pause, he said quietly, "You seem to care about this girl a lot, don't you Harry? I can't claim to be the world's best expert with women, but you're not going to get anywhere if you don't talk. Have you written to her at all this summer?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, perhaps you ought to send Hedwig with a message after you get back to Privet Drive. She's bound to be taking Cedric's death hard as well, and the sooner you break the ice and start talking, the better the chance you have of at least being friends."

Harry thought this sounded like good advice and wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. Sirius changed the subject slightly, obviously feeling that lighter conversation was called for if Harry was to enjoy his birthday. "You've mentioned this Cho a few times now. What's she like? How did you meet?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

Harry told Sirius how Cho Chang had become Seeker for the Ravenclaw team in his third year and how it was then he'd noticed how pretty she was. Even as he spoke about her, his heart felt lighter. Then the conversation turned to Quidditch, which Sirius, it turned out, was as passionate about as Harry. Apparently he had been a Chaser in the Gryffindor team at the same time as Harry's father and had even considered going professional after he'd left school. They swapped stories of games they'd played and manoeuvres they'd seen and used for hours, until Arabella arrived back.

"Goodness, are you two still sitting in here talking when it's such a lovely day outside?" she asked, looking surprised.

"We've had some catching up to do, Bella," Sirius replied, "and the conversation would be rather one-sided if Harry had to spend all day talking to Snuffles, wouldn't it?"

"Well I'm afraid I will have to ask you boys to spend the rest of the afternoon outside," said Arabella firmly. "I have some arrangements to make for a special meal this evening. Harry, why don't you take Snuffles for a walk and show him Privet Drive and your old school? It'll be the first time he's been able to go inside the web."

"I know better than to argue with this young lady," Sirius said to Harry with a wink and a smile. "Why don't you show me around, and then you can tell me all about the first thirteen years of your life - I think I've a rough idea about the last two. Snuffles makes a very good listener, you know."

Sirius transformed back into the large shaggy dog, and they set off down the street, Harry leading the way.

*

When Arabella finally let them back into the house early that evening, they found that she had been extremely busy. The lounge had been totally transformed: it was adorned with decorations and magically twinkling lights, and there was a big banner over the mantelpiece that read Happy Birthday Harry in continually changing colours. The little table seemed to have grown and was set with silver cutlery, napkins and a magnificent candelabra in the centre. Harry noted that there were five place settings, rather than the three he would have expected. He shot a quizzical look at Sirius, who just shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"Come, sit down and have a drink while we wait for our guests to arrive," said Arabella. "Harry, here's some pumpkin juice for you. Sirius, can I offer you a sherry?"

"Yes please, Bella," Sirius replied. "So who are we waiting for?"

"Ah, you'll just have to wait and see," she said, tapping the side of her nose with her finger. "I've made some special arrangements."

They didn't have to wait very long. As the clock on the mantelpiece struck seven there was a whooshing noise, and two figures shot out of the fireplace one after the other, landing in a heap on the hearth rug. As they got up and dusted themselves down Harry saw who had arrived: it was Ron and Hermione.

"Hi Harry, Happy Birthday," said Hermione cheerfully, giving Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday," echoed Ron from behind her, looking around him. "Bit cloak and dagger, all this. We must have been through half the Floo network in the country to get here!"

"Sorry about that," said Arabella, taking their coats from them, "but it was a necessary precaution - and it's all in a good cause."

Harry thought he'd better introduce them all properly. "Ron, Hermione, I know you know Sirius, but you don't know Arabella, do you? This is Arabella Figg, who is looking after me while the Dursleys are away. Arabella, these are my best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you." They all nodded and shook hands formally, still feeling slightly ill at ease.

"Right, lets get this party started," said Arabella, clapping her hands together and leading them all over to the table.

They took their places, and Arabella served the first course. But she didn't do everything by hand this time. She settled herself at the table and summoned each bowl and plate from the kitchen in turn, using her walking stick, which obviously contained her wand. As the food and drink flowed - and even Harry, Ron and Hermione were allowed some wine - so also did the conversation. The food surpassed anything Arabella had done to date, and Ron in particular had second helpings of just about everything. He even asked for recipes for some dishes to take home to his mum. Arabella was definitely in high party spirits; she charmed her hair to change colour every twenty seconds. And change colour it did: first yellow, then cerise, followed by fluorescent green and blue. She offered to do the same for the others. Harry, Hermione and Sirius took her up on it, but Ron decided to pass.

When they couldn't eat another mouthful, they settled down into the armchairs and played a few games of Exploding Snap, swapping funny stories of life at Hogwarts all the while. Most of Ron and Harry's stories consisted of Fred and George's practical jokes, of which there were many, while Sirius related tales of some of the pranks he and James had played. Even Arabella had a few tales to tell, of sneaking around the castle at night, and of raising Niffler pups in a box under her bed, until they escaped and wrecked the entire dormitory.

"Goodness me, look at the time!" Arabella exclaimed a while later. "It's nearly ten-o'-clock. You two have to leave in twenty minutes. I think it's time for the cake and presents now."

With a wave of her walking stick, Arabella dimmed the lights and summoned a huge cake from the kitchen. Harry gasped. It was in the shape of a Quidditch pitch and had fifteen candles round the edges on top of the spectator stands. Tiny figures on broomsticks were zooming around above the pitch.

"Wow, thank you!" Harry said softly, gazing at the cake, then at his friends around him. He took a deep breath and blew out the candles, and they all cheered.

Then came the presents. Hermione gave Harry a heavy parcel that was unmistakeably book-shaped. There were two books in it, Which Witch and Which Warlock.

"I thought you might find these useful background reading, especially as you don't have much grounding in who's who in the wizarding world, Harry," she said. " Oh, and you're on page 120."

Ron's present contained a Quaffle and a pair of Quidditch gloves. "Remember to bring them with you if you're allowed to come to our place so we can practice. I'm hoping to try for the team this year."

Finally Sirius presented Harry with a small black box. Inside was a leather armband with a green stone set in it.

"This is a Monerband, Harry. You wear it on your upper arm, like so." Sirius put the band round Harry's left arm and fastened it. "If you want to let me know that you are in danger or that you need to see me urgently, you press your hand on the stone and say monero. I have the other band on my arm, and it glows red when you've activated it. It also acts as a tracking device, so that I can find where you are if necessary. I know it's rather a practical present, but I do want to be there for you when I'm needed. Now, let's see you try it."

Harry clasped his right hand over the green stone and said, "Monero." The stone instantly turned red. Sirius pushed up the sleeve of his robe to reveal the band on his arm, which was also glowing red. "So how do I turn it off again?" Harry asked.

"You just say demonero," Sirius replied.

"Demonero," Harry repeated, with his hand on the stone. The stones on Harry and Sirius' arms turned back to green. "Thanks Sirius. That's a great present. Hope I won't need it much though."

"I'm afraid it really is time for Ron and Hermione to head home now," Arabella cut in. "The Floo link is only open for a short while, so we have to be punctual."

Harry fetched Ron and Hermione's coats, and they took their leave, each taking a pinch of green powder from the snuffbox on the mantelpiece, throwing it onto the fire and stepping in.

Then Sirius said, "I'm afraid I must go now as well. Remus will need some company tonight. Harry, I've really enjoyed spending the day with you. Let's hope it won't be too long before we see each other again." He gave Harry another hug, kissed Arabella lightly on one cheek, took a pinch of Floo powder and left.

Harry looked around at the now quiet lounge, at the decorations and the dirty plates on the table. "Thank you so much for arranging all this, Arabella. It's been a really wonderful day. Can I help you tidy up?"

Arabella shook her head, her hair changing from pink to green as she did so. "No, Harry dear, I'll do it. It's my present to you. I'm glad you've enjoyed it. Now, why don't you take some of these scraps upstairs for Hedwig."

Harry took the food upstairs, put it in Hedwig's cage and got ready for bed. He stared at himself in the mirror, watching his hair change colour and thinking back over the day with Sirius and the party. It really was the best birthday he'd ever had.