Mysteries Unraveled

ONE - SUNRISE OVER PRIVET DRIVE

The sun rose over the neatly ordered flowerbeds in the perfectly ordered front gardens of the perfectly normal Privet Drive. The sparkling sun climbed steadily over the surrounding houses, it's orange glow finally reaching the smallest window at number 4 Privet Drive. Gradually, as the sun moved, it reflected on something, a pair of glasses. There was a boy looking out of the smallest window of number 4, a boy with bright green eyes and jet-black hair that stuck up in all the wrong places. It was no ordinary sunrise, and it was no ordinary boy. The boy was Harry Potter, and he sat, gazing out of the window as the sun rose on his fifteenth birthday.

Harry sighed and turning, climbed back onto his bed. Fifteen. He was fifteen. 'Happy Birthday to me... happy birthday to me...' he sang quietly, under his breath. Then stopped in fear as he heard his uncle grunt from the next room. The Dursleys would be up in a few hours; Harry would have to get their breakfast. He decided it might be a good idea to get a little sleep before Aunt Petunia banged on his door to wake him up.

He sighed again and closed his eyes tightly, his hands behind his head. But he couldn't sleep. Something at the back of his mind made him open his eyes again. Harry couldn't describe it... he felt like something was going to... happen. For the last three days he had been restless, pacing around his room, a fluttering feeling in his chest, tapping his fingers, trying to place what was bothering him. What was bothering him exactly? Harry knew it wasn't Voldemort... wouldn't... couldn't involve the Dark Lord Harry had fought against four times already. The first when he was a baby of just 15 months old. Harry paused in front of the cracked mirror that hung over his chest of drawers, peering at his forehead. No, his scar looked the same as always. It was the one thing Harry liked about his appearance, thin and shaped like a bolt of lightening, he had had it as long as he could remember - since he had faced Voldemort the first time.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered aloud, gazing at his reflection, wondering if becoming fifteen had changed him at all. "Voldemort." He whispered again...Harry was one of the few people in the wizarding world unafraid to say the Dark Lord's name out loud. No, his restlessness had nothing to do with Voldemort, Harry's scar hadn't hurt... hadn't hurt since... not since the Tri Wizard tournament... not since... not since the day Cedric died...

Harry sat back on his bed with a soft thump, tapping his front teeth with his fingernail. He didn't want to think about Cedric at the moment, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. No, it wasn't Cedric that was bothering him. What then? Harry though hard, pressing his head between his hands. The Dursleys weren't bothering him; they had barely spoken to him since... since he'd come back from school. Ron and Hermione, his best friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were fine. Ron Weasley had a summer job working for the Chudley Cannons (his favourite Quidditch team - a wizard sport played on broomsticks), he was too young to enter the try-outs for the team, but he was old enough to look after the turf of the Quidditch pitch. Hermione Granger was in France, she had been offered a job to work as an Au pair for Fleur Delacour's younger sister Gabrielle, and jumped at the chance. Hermione had always wanted to learn French, having spent time there on holiday in the summer between their second and third years. Hagrid? - Harry thought. Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts was fine. Hagrid was in Europe, looking for his giantess mother Fridwulfa. Harry smiled slightly at the thought of Hagrid's mother, she was probably twenty foot tall, and Harry couldn't really imagine a mother for Hagrid. Beetle black eyes and thick, bushy black hair to match her son's? No. Harry chuckled for the first time in weeks, trying to banish the image from his mind. That left Dumbledore... and though he couldn't imagine the old wizard sunning himself on a beach somewhere, he imagined that his headmaster would have to have some kind of holiday from the school. Harry sighed, racking his brains. A soft tapping noise at the window made him look up. Harry smiled and leapt over to open it, in swooped Hedwig, his beautiful snowy owl. She swept gracefully over to her cage and took a long drink from the water bowl. Harry smiled again; maybe it had been Hedwig he'd missed? She hadn't been back for three days. And here she was, in time for his birthday!

"Hullo Hedwig," he whispered gently, leaning over to stroke her silken feathers. "Had a good hunt?"

Hedwig hooted in reply, looking up at him with her huge yellow, unblinking eyes. She held her leg out to him and Harry looked down, there, attached to her leg with hairy string was a tiny box. Harry untied it carefully and carried it over to his bed where he sat down gently. His first birthday present? He wasn't sure. Harry squinted at the tiny box, it seemed to be made out of... gold... solid gold! Harry looked at it curiously, it didn't seem to open, and there were inscriptions covering it; strange words Harry couldn't read and odd-looking creatures that he was sure weren't in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Harry put the box down on the bed beside him and sat, looking at it. It couldn't be dangerous... could it? Surely Hedwig wouldn't bring him something dangerous... would she? Harry looked up at her but she had fallen asleep on her perch, her head tucked under her wing.

Harry put the 'box' on his bedside table and lay back again, sighing once more. It wasn't Hedwig that was bothering him then; she was back, and he still had the funny fluttery feeling in his chest. It felt strange; Harry just knew something big was about to happen.

That's when he heard it; a low rumble at first, like an airplane going overhead... curious... Harry had never heard an airplane fly over Privet Drive before. He sat up, looking out the still open window into the misty, sunlit morning of July 31^st. The rumble was getting louder, like a jet now... Harry stared, walking towards the window and poking his head out. He couldn't locate the noise, but it seemed to be getting louder and louder, like a helicopter sitting over the house. Quite suddenly Harry was reminded of the time in his second year when Ron and his twin brothers Fred and George had rescued him, in an old, turquoise Ford Anglia... a flying, old turquoise Ford Anglia.

And that; that was when he saw it! Harry's mind flashed back to his cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday. Harry's uncle, Vernon, had nearly crashed his car when he heard Harry talking about a dream he had had once. 'MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!' Uncle Vernon had screamed. Apparently though, they did. Unless Harry had finally managed to fall asleep that is... or he'd fallen over and hit his head... or Dudley had punched him in the head and he'd lost his mind. Harry pinched his arm, hard.

"Ow!" he shouted aloud to no one in particular, then looked up. He definitely wasn't dreaming, he wasn't unconscious, and he hadn't lost his mind. There was definitely a huge motorbike zooming towards him out of the sunrise. Harry squinted at it, trying to make out who was riding it. It had to be a wizard, of course... but whom? Harry's heart was beating frantically as the motorbike drew up, it stopped just above his window, level with the roof, and slowly, slowly glided down to his eyelevel. Harry gasped. This was it. This is what had been keeping him awake. Not Voldemort. Not Ron. Not Hermione. Not Dumbledore or even the Dursleys. Harry couldn't stop his face from splitting into a wide grin as he saw who it was, and then it was quickly replaced by a scowl.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Harry bellowed as the tall figure climbed off the parked bike and crouched as it climbed through Harry's bedroom window. The figure grinned, wrapping his cloak around him and pulling a stray curl of black hair out of his bright blue eyes.

"Well?" Harry bellowed again. He was shaking with anger, "What do you think you're doing? What would happen if someone saw you!!"

The figure grinned again and laughed, laughed loud and long. So loud that neither of them noticed the bang of Harry's bedroom door opening, or Uncle Vernon's large bulk as he came into the room.

"WHAT is going on in HERE!?" Uncle Vernon bellowed, his face an unflattering shade of puce and spit shooting from the corners of his mouth.

The tall figure stopped laughing, turned and looked at Uncle Vernon.

"Hello," he smiled. "Don't mind if I visit Harry on his birthday do you?? I'm his Godfather by the way, Sirius Black."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uncle Vernon's yelling was almost drowned out by Aunt Petunia's screams. Sirius grinned, a wide, toothy grin that made Harry stare. He'd never seen Sirius grin before. But then, he hadn't really seen his godfather that many times before at all. Sirius looked far better than when Harry had last seen him, he'd put on weight, his hair was shorter, around his collar, and clean. Sirius' face was fuller, his eyes brighter. Finally Harry smiled.

"You're, you're Sirius Black??" Uncle Vernon was yelling, backing onto the landing, Aunt Petunia standing behind him, screaming and hiding her horsey face in Vernon's bulky shoulder.

"Yep," Sirius nodded, advancing on them, talking slowly, as if to someone stupid. "And you're Vernon, and that's Petunia. Haven't seen you for a long time, have I Petunia?"

"Stay... stay away from my wife!!" Vernon was yelling, his face now mottled, patches of puce and white; a vein was throbbing in his temple.

"Okay," Sirius smiled, stopping in the doorway. "You don't mind if I put this away do you?" he asked, gesturing to a small bag he was carrying, then stepping across the landing and depositing it in the Dursley's spare bedroom. "Oh," he smiled as he made his way back across the landing and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, "It's all right if I stay for a few days isn't it?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you going to explain then?" Harry asked as he bit into his fifth corned beef sandwich. He and Sirius were sitting in the Dursley's back garden, sprawled on the grass, soaking up the sunshine and wolfing down a selection of Petunia's finest sandwiches.

Sirius looked at Harry, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh come on!" Harry shouted. "You turn up, completely out of the blue. No Death Eaters after you, no Ministry after you. Vernon calls the police and they laugh at him. Don't you think I deserve an explanation!?"

Sirius sniggered into his glass of muggle beer, and then screwed his nose up. "This stuff's rubbish," he scowled.

"Sirius?" Harry asked again, pleadingly this time.

"Well, my young Godson, I've obviously got a lot to teach you about watching the news and reading papers, you really should keep on top of current events you know." Sirius grinned as he bit into another sandwich, Harry noted that he still seemed to eat like a dog, handling his food roughly and swallowing it quickly.

"What?" Harry asked, exasperated.

Sirius didn't say anything, simply reached inside his discarded cloak and handed Harry a rolled up paper. Harry opened it curiously, noting that it was a copy of the wizarding paper, The Daily Prophet.

Harry's jaw dropped as he read the front page. It was dated July 30^th and there was a huge picture of a grinning Sirius on the front, accompanied by the caption "SIRIUS BLACK CLEARED!"

"Wha'?" Harry asked. "I don't understand." Sirius was grinning back at him. Snatches of the newsprint were jumping out at him 'Veritaserum, strongest the ministry could find' 'Albus Dumbledore', 'trusts him completely'. "What?" Harry asked again, too confused to make much sense of the paper.

Sirius sighed. "Harry. Harry. Dumbledore and I testified, under the strongest Veritaserum there is. They believed it, now Crouch is gone, Ministry members can see things for what they are. I'm free!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "You... you mean... no more Azkaban... you don't have to be on the run?" Sirius was shaking his head. "And... no more Death Eaters?" Sirius shook his head again. Harry allowed a small smile to creep over his lips... "So, you're really free? You're safe?" he asked, hardly daring it to be true.

"YES! I'M FREE!" Sirius shouted suddenly, jumping up, grabbing Harry and swinging him round in the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sirius, you weren't serious about staying here were you?"

"Nah," Sirius giggled, a naughty glint in his eye that reminded Harry of the Weasley twins. "Just though I'd scare them. In fact, we've been invited to a party!"

Harry must have looked shocked, because Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and laughed again. "It's at The Burrow. A birthday party! Not sure who's birthday it is though..." he mused, stroking his chin with the fingers of one hand.

Harry punched his Godfather on the arm.

"Oooh shit! You're getting muscles Harry Potter!" Sirius exclaimed, rubbing his arm and frowning at Harry. "Oh, all right. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" he smiled, reaching into a pocket of his cloak and passing Harry a card and a lumpy looking package hastily tied with what looked like brown paper, and familiar looking hairy string.

"What is it?" Harry asked, unearthing what looked like a pile of black leather. Then, "No!"

"Oh yes!" Sirius was grinning manically. "Harry Potter is going to be cool, whether he likes it or not."

Harry's jaw dropped as he held up a full set of leathers, then he laughed in amazement. "Well I'm guessing we're going on the bike then?" he asked.

"Well done. Now go pack your trunk or we'll be late for lunch!"

It took Harry all of ten minutes to throw all his books and clothes into his trunk. He heaved it downstairs, ran back up to grab Hedwig's cage and was back down, waiting in under fifteen minutes.

"Well?" Sirius asked, coming out into the hall, munching on half a stick of French bread and spraying the crumbs everywhere.

"Well what?" Harry asked, as he sat on the bottom step and tied the laces on his trainers.

"You are not coming on that bike without putting those leathers on!" Sirius bellowed. Harry was taken aback.

"But... but... they'll laugh at me!" Harry complained quietly. "I'd never live it down!"

"You won't live at all if you come off that bike without them on! Upstairs! NOW! And put them on!" Sirius bellowed, French bread spraying all over Harry's face. Harry would have been scared if he hadn't seen the mischievous glint in Sirius's eyes. He was practicing at being a parental figure. Harry backed down.

"All right. All right." He sighed, raising his hands in resignation and climbing the stairs one more time.

~~~~~~~~~

Harry couldn't have been more embarrassed. Not even if he'd woken up naked in the middle of the Great Hall during the Halloween feast. Well... maybe... Harry and Sirius had landed in the back garden of The Burrow to applause and cheers. The garden was full, full of Harry's friends and teachers, full of balloons, fairies, food and smiling faces. Harry climbed off the motorbike feeling slightly foolish and very embarrassed as Ron and Hermione rushed over to hug him tightly, shortly followed by Fred and George and Dean, Seamus and Neville. Every single one of his friend's jaws dropped as they looked at his leathers.

"Harry," Hermione smirked; her skin tanned a golden brown and her hair long, wavy and lightened by the sun. "My, you have grown up quickly."

Ron winked at his best friend and simply smiled. "Happy Birthday Harry," he shouted; laughing as Lavender Brown spotted Harry and her jaw dropped too.

"Right! THAT'S IT!" Harry bellowed, rushing into The Burrow. "I'm going to put some jeans on!!"

Harry had never been to a birthday party before, let alone a birthday party held in his honour. It was a strange experience. He was used to people staring at him by now, gawping at his forehead and whispering 'that's the boy that lived'. But he wasn't used to people wanting his attention, wanting to talk to him, wanting to hug him, shake his hand, dance with him... and give him presents! A strange experience indeed. Harry laughed as he greeted the Weasley's, a number of his Hogwart's Professors and friends, and his ex-teacher and Sirius' best friend, Remus Lupin; they all showered him with gifts and hugs. Hagrid, though unable to come, had owled Harry a beautiful new quill; made from a tail feather from a golden eagle. Hermione presented Harry with a beautiful book, which appeared to be covered in... snakeskin? Harry understood when he looked at the cover. It was a book on Parseltongues.

"But it's in French!" Harry exclaimed, flicking quickly through the pages.

"I know," Hermione grinned with a wave of her hand. "I found it in a little bookstore in Paris, I've never seen one in England..."

At this point, Ron had interrupted, rolling his eyes: "And if there was one in England, Herm would've found it."

Hermione scowled, then shook her head, smiling slightly. "It's all right Harry. I owled Professor Flitwick and he said he'd teach us a charm to translate it... well, I could translate it... but that would take longer!"

"Thanks Herm!" Harry had grinned, he desperately wanted to understand more about his strange ability to speak to snakes. A book, even if it was in a foreign language, seemed the perfect start!

From Ron, there was a rather badly wrapped parcel, pieces of Muggle sellotape were falling off it everywhere and the paper was rather crumpled.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, his ears turning red. "I wrapped it before Mum and Dad brought me my new wand... had to do it Muggle-style! Dad showed me," he explained. Ron's father, Arthur Weasley, was head of the Department of Inter-Muggle-Wizard Relations (he had gained the promotion over the summer). Harry grinned and ripped the paper open. Inside he found a small box. It was wooden, and very old looking. Ron blushed again. "The good bits inside!" he explained, reaching forwards and opening the box for Harry.

Harry and Hermione gasped as a small gold ball came flying out of the box. Flying, because it had wings.

"It's a snitch!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, you need one to practice with before the try-outs for captain. Now Oliver's graduated I mean," Ron smiled.

"Wow!" Harry gasped as the snitch loop-the-looped around his head and then chased Crookshanks (Hermione's big, fat ginger cat) down the garden. He laughed, and then looked back into the box, there was a piece of paper sticking out. Looking closer, Harry gasped again. It was a wizarding photograph; depicting the team members of the Chudley Cannons. As in all wizarding photographs, the orange-clad figures were moving about, flying in and out of the picture, waving and smiling. But all round the edge of the paper, there were signatures, and Harry recognised them as the autographs of the seven Chudley Cannons' players.

"Ron!" he gasped. "You can't give me this! They're your favourite team! Didn't you want it!?"

Ron was looking sheepish as Harry and Hermione gazed at him, "Well, I've been working for them all summer... you don't think I'd only manage to get them to sign one picture do you?"

Fred, one of Ron's older twin brothers, walked past at this point and laughed. "He's got them to sign every picture he's got! His bedrooms covered in them."

The three friends burst into giggles at this. Then Hermione squealed as Crookshanks jumped into her arms. The cat's fur was standing on end and he looked wildly around him as he tried to climb into Hermione's robes. Harry noticed that they were a pretty shade of blue, obviously made for the warmer weather in France.

"What was that?" Hermione squealed again, as something gold, and very fast zipped past her head once more.

"The snitch!" Ron laughed as he pointed upwards. "We'll never get it back now!" he shouted as they watched it disappearing towards the end of the garden and up the hill to the Weasley's paddock.

"Yes we will." Harry heard a voice behind him and they spun round. "It just means we have to postpone lunch till the Quidditch match is over!" Sirius was standing behind them, holding two broomsticks and now dressed in Quidditch robes. Harry noticed that Hermione seemed a little disappointed that his Godfather was no longer in his leathers...

"What do you mean Sirius?" Harry asked as he accepted his Firebolt - one of the top racing brooms in the country, and Harry's prized possession.

"Well, I arranged a little match didn't I..." Sirius smirked again, and Harry was reminded of his Godfather's past as a Marauder. "To the Quidditch pitch everyone! And let the games begin!"

Seemingly, the rest of the party had previous knowledge, as everyone turned immediately and headed towards the Weasley's paddock. It was at the top of the hill, and surrounded by tall trees so that no one could see the Weasley's playing Quidditch. Because of this, Harry didn't notice until they passed through a gap in the trees, that the paddock had been transformed into a stadium. Harry, entranced, turned slowly on the spot. Gazing at the goal posts and mini-stands.

"Borrowed the posts from Dumbledore." Sirius whispered in his ear. And for the first time, Harry noticed his headmaster waving at him, now sitting in the stands. "Fred and George made the stands... I'm glad I don't have to sit up there... not sure I trust their workmanship." Sirius winked and led Harry over to the centre of the pitch.

Madam Hooch, Harry's Quidditch teacher from Hogwarts, was standing in the centre of the pitch by a trunk-sized box that seemed to be leaping around of it's own accord. Harry knew what that meant; the bludgers were itching to get out!

"Right!" Madam Hooch started, blowing on her whistle for silence from the stands. "I want a clean game between the 'Oldies' and the 'Young Uns'," she smiled. "No penalties, and then maybe we can have some lunch," she grinned again, her yellow eyes glinting.

They were interrupted by a shout from the stands. Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' best friend, was shouting into a magiphone (a magic version of a megaphone created by Fred and George), ready to start the commentating.

"Good day Hogwarts students past and present... and of course... the esteemed teachers!" he was shouting into the magiphone. "Today's referee will be the delectable Madam Hooch!" he announced, to cheers from the crowd. "The two teams are "The Oldies" and "The Young Uns". On the Oldies, we have Sirius Black as Keeper!" As Lee shouted this, Sirius pushed off into he air, shortly followed by his teammates as their names were announced. "Bill Weasley and Remus Lupin as Seekers!" More cheers, as Ron's oldest brother and Sirius' best friend began circling the paddock. "Arthur Weasley, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell as Chasers! Sorry girls." He shouted as they began zooming about. "I know you aren't old... but well, we need something to look at!!"

Katie and Angelina looked at each other, and then dive-bombed Lee in his seat, narrowly missing his dread-locked head.

"Ladies! You can't attack the commentator!" he laughed into the magiphone, enjoying his freedom to say what he wanted. "And as Seeker for the Oldies we have Charlie Weasley!" The stands exploded with cheers again as the last player for the Oldies zipped into the air and began to circle high above the paddock. "And nooooooow.... Drum roll please!! On the Young Uns team .... We have....... As Keeper, Oliver Wood! Ex-Gryffindor Captain and Keeper for England's Under-21 side!! Fred and George Weasley as Beaters! Stars of the Gryffindor House Team for the last five years, and purveyors of magical mischief! As Chasers, we have Seamus Finnegan, a young player, but no doubt superb! Look at him go! Watch that tree Seamus! Ah... well, let's hope he's better at catching the Quaffle than flying... Joining him is the flame-haired duo, Ronald and Virginia Weasley!! Look at them go, like... like a flame-haired duo! And nooooooow... Ladies and Gentleman! Witches and Wizards! Boys and Girls..."

"Get on with it!" someone shouted from the stands.

"SHUT UP! I'M THE COMMENTATOR!" Lee bellowed... "As I was saying... AND NOW! The moment you've all been waiting for! Gryffindor House seeker! Youngest seeker in a century! Protector of The Philosophers Stone! Killer of Basilisks! Friend of Werewolves and Animagi! I give you, the Young Uns star seeker! HAAaaaaaaaaaaarrry POTTER!!"

Harry laughed and kicked off from the ground, pulling his Firebolt into a steep climb to fly above the stands and the trees. He gasped as the rush of wind hit him as he flew above the tree line. This is what he missed most whilst at the Dursley's - flying. Still, not practicing for a month didn't seem to have caused many problems. He confirmed this with a couple of loop-the-loops, accompanied by gasps and cheers from the crowd. Then righted himself as he heard Madam Hooch blow her whistle. The game had begun! Harry glided down below the tree line once more; he couldn't hear Lee in the rush of wind above it. He hovered above the pitch, watching the game commence and keeping one eye out for the snitch, the other watching Charlie closing as he circled slowly around just below Harry.

"And Seamus has the Quaffle! Well-done lad! Oh no! He's slipped! Knocked off course by the simply stunning Angelina! She takes the Quaffle and scores easily! I think the Young Uns keeper Wood may be distracted, Katie Bell seems to be nibbling his ear!!" Harry chuckled as he watched a confused Oliver Wood regain his composure and scowl at the girls. "Ooh. Seamus takes a bludger to the stomach! Ouch... now Ginny has the quaffle! Look at her go! She passes to Ronald, oooh, just missed that bludger aimed by Bill. Passes to Seamus. AND SCORES!! The boy CAN catch! Sirius Black looks angry... Oh Merlin! He's chasing Seamus down the pitch! HOOCH! REF! He can't to that! PENALTY! Penalty to the Young Uns!! And Ronald flies up to take it! Black's looking determined. But no! He's missed. RONALD SCORES!! Ooh dear... I think Black may have slipped a disc... he's clutching his back. Looks like the Oldies are just that... NO NO, LUPIN!! Bludgers are not to be aimed at the COMMENTATOR!! Another PENALTY TO THE YOUNG UNS!! And this time GINNY Weasley takes the Quaffle. AND SHE... Ah, no Black saved that one... Now ARTHUR Weasley has the Quaffle, and he's really going for it! PASS MAN! YOU'LL NEVER MAKE IT! Oh dear. Arthur's knocked off course by a bludger, aimed by his son, FRED. WATCH OUT ARTHUR! There goes GEORGE! He's got the other bludger. OOH ARTHUR! I warned you... that had to hurt... OLIVER WOOD really hasn't got much to do... but BLACK'S being kept busy! Ron once more in possession of the quaffle, passes to GINNY, passes to Seamus. THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO ARTHUR!! Seamus drops the quaffle! ARGH! Bludger to the back of the head! Bad sport GEORGE! But look! GINNY caught it! Our youngest player... and ... SHE SCORES! Black's looking furious now... he's flapping his hands about... what's that? Something's attacking him! It's the snitch!! The snitch is after BLACK! And look, Charlie and Harry have both seen it! They're diving, and this is no Wronski Feint! They're neck and neck; Black is still trying to beat off the snitch. Whilst he's distracted... Seamus scores! And AGAIN! The boy can throw too! CHARLIE AND HARRY - neck and neck. Black's seen them. He looks scared now! OH NO! They've both hit him! MEDI-WIZARDS! THREE MEN DOWN! WHO'S GOT THE SNITCH!!??"

Harry wasn't sure either as they fell to the floor, a tangle of limbs and broomsticks. He felt Sirius land on top of him, Charlie beside him. And something, something in his hand... the snitch!!

"AND THE YOUNG UNS WIN!! HARRY POTTER'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH!!" Lee was screaming, but it was nearly drowned out by the crowd's yells and cheers; and Harry's giggles as Sirius tickled him within an inch of his life.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Harry yelled, writhing in agony, desperately trying to fend off his godfather, and then his teammates as they all joined in.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!" they were all yelling as they picked him up, grabbing a limb or a piece of robe; and he was carried back to the garden, laughing with delight.