Silent Night

"Happy Birthday, Harry!"

The look in Hermione's eyes was so hopeful and pleading that I summoned up a smile for her. It felt like a mask. We wear the mask that grins and lies..."Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione smiled as well and handed me a box. "I thought you might like this...I mean..."

"Thanks," I said again, opening the box carefully. It contained a picture frame. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of us, arms around each other's shoulders, laughing. Ron took that picture in our third year. I couldn't smile--the picture made my heart hurt--but I gave Hermione a hug. She hugged me back. I knew she understood.

"Here, mate," Ron said, passing me a box with a crooked, worried grin. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Ron." I opened the gift and revealed a bright orange sweater with a red double-C emblem where the left breast pocket would be if it had pockets. Though by no means an expert, I'm not exactly crazy about the Chudley Cannons; however, Ron had gone to the trouble of picking the gift out for me, and was waiting for my reaction on tenterhooks. Forcing another smile, I pulled the sweater over his head and thanked my friend again. Ron's ears went red with pleasure.

That evening, when I returned to my room, I discovered a flat package done up in silvery paper. A note was tucked under the ribbon.

Curious and wary at once, I walked cautiously to the bed and unfolded the note. It was brief, in Lupin's distinct, precise handwriting.

Harry:

Found this in the library. I thought you'd like to have it. Happy Birthday.

-Remus

Carefully, I undid the paper and exposed a book. The book had a dark cover showing four boys--three with dark hair and one with blond--superimposed above an orange city skyline. Jagged yellow letters above them read The Outsiders.

It looked quite good, too. I opened the front cover. My heart lurched as a message written on the end paper jumped out at me in distinct, unmistakable handwriting. I brushed the words with a trembling hand--my last message from Sirius:

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I read this book twenty years ago and loved every page of it. I thought you'd like to read it now. May your sixteenth year be sweet as possible!

Love, Sirius.

Swallowing, I turned to the first page and began to read.

I stayed up late to finish it. I couldn't put it down. When I finished, I closed the book slowly and stared at the jacket for a while.

I hadn't read a book I could identify with in years, but I knew The Outsiders was that rare book that I could. I could see some of myself in Ponyboy, in Darry, in Johnny Cade. Like Ponyboy, I took the long way around and did some pretty dumb things before I realised how much people cared about me, before I realised where my home was. I got too many people in trouble--or even killed--because I wasn't thinking. Frankly, one is too many. I'm kind of like Johnny Cade in that I sometimes feel like a dog that's been kicked one too many times. Hermione said once that the kind of environment I grew up in would have made anyone else hard and mean, but it just made me desperate to save other people. That environment was killing Johnny. Darry and I share the same silent fear--of losing someone else that we love.

Soda reminds me a little of Ron. Tall and gangly, like a long-legged colt, acting like life is one big joke. His attitude is more like Randy's, though--he goes along with his best friends, but he knows when to take initiative, when to take a stand.

Hermione--my Hermione--is a lot like Cherry Valance. Smart, pretty, insightful...always pointing out something I've missed, something I should've understood a long time ago. She's also like Ponyboy...she's always reading. Maybe that's why we're so close--because we're both like the same character.

Dally--and it hurts to remember--makes me think of Sirius, and I don't just mean how he ended. Reckless, living on the edge, didn't let anything get to him, didn't care about anything except himself...and me. He even looked like the description of Dally in the book. A reluctant smile crossed my lips when I read Tim Shepherd's comment that he'd seen Dally's picture in the paper and "couldn't believe it didn't have 'Wanted Dead or Alive' under it". I remember Tonks making a similar quip when Sirius was declared innocent.

Remus told me, later that morning, that when Sirius had read it all those years before, he had insisted on Remus reading it aloud to the other two (and listening again). They had decided that Remus was a combination of Johnny and Ponyboy, Sirius was Two-Bit Matthews, my father was all three Curtis boys rolled into one, and Peter was Curly Shepherd. (Why they picked Curly at the time I'll never know, but it sure works.) I told Remus what comparisons I'd made and he agreed; Azkaban did harden Sirius into more of a Dally than a Two-Bit, although I could certainly see a little of Two-Bit in him.

I started carrying that book with me almost everywhere; it had quickly become my favourite. When I told people at Hogwarts I carried it because it was my favourite, everyone suddenly started toting books around. Hermione had James Herriot's Every Living Thing in her pocket. Ron tucked Moondog in among his spellbooks. Ernie MacMillian had Tales from Mos Eisley Cantina up his sleeve. I noticed an earth-covered copy of The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, Volume I poking out from behind Hannah Abbot's seed box in Herbology one day. We had started a literary revolution.

A couple weeks into the school year, I was walking down the corridor with my nose in the book, rereading it for the umpteenth time, when I tripped over my shoelace and stumbled. I managed to keep my balance, but I dropped my book.

As I bent to pick it up, someone else reached for it at the same time. I looked up and found myself looking at Draco Malfoy.

"Got a question to ask you, Potter," Malfoy said, straightening up.

I picked up my book and straightened too. "What?"

Malfoy hesitated, then pointed at my book. "Can I borrow that?"

I hesitated. "It's a Muggle book."

"I know, but Mother's cousin read it years ago and apparently loved it, although Mother never read it."

I knew. Sirius was his mother's cousin. Still I hesitated. The truth was, I was rather reluctant to part with my book; it was one of the few things I had to remind me of my godfather, and I still missed him. Finally, I swallowed and said, "All right--you can borrow it--but just be careful with it, okay? It--it's kind of special."

His face kind of lit up. "Thanks."

I handed over the book, wondering what in the world was wrong with me. He took it like he couldn't quite believe I was actually letting him borrow it.

I know I couldn't.

~~~

"Hey--Harry! Hold up a second!"

I stopped and turned. I had been walking from Charms to Potions with Hermione, talking quietly about something or other. Hermione looked surprised when she saw who was hailing me, but I just waited.

Draco Malfoy came over to us and held out my book. "Thanks for letting me read it. It was really good." He hesitated, then confided, "I saw a little of myself in Ponyboy--and Tim Shepherd. Talk about your contradictions..."

A half-grin tugged at my lips. "Really? I didn't really see you in Tim. Dally perhaps, probably Two-Bit, maybe Curly, but certainly not Tim. I agree with you on Ponyboy, though."

"You do?" Draco grinned as well. "You remind me a little of Ponyboy, too, but I couldn't think who else."

"Honestly, I was thinking Pony, Darry, and Johnny," I admitted.

Draco studied me for a second or two, then nodded. "You're right. That's exactly who you are."

Hermione looked at us in astonishment, then finally asked, "But, Harry, how can you see yourself as Darry? I mean, sure, you had anger issues last year..."

"Have you read The Outsiders?" Draco asked her.

"The first bit of it," Hermione answered. "I stopped when Johnny killed that...how do you pronounce the word? Soc?"

"Sounds right to me," I nodded. "But why'd you stop?"

"I was scared," Hermione admitted. "If that's so close to the beginning, what's the end going to be like?"

"But you can't just stop there," I told her gently. "If you just stop reading when things go wrong, you'll never find out when things go right. Remember when we read A Darkness at Sethanon this summer? We both thought Arutha was dead...but if we'd stopped reading, we'd've never found out he was all right."

Hermione smiled. "You're right. I should keep going."

"You've read the Riftwar saga?" Draco asked, brightening. I noticed a copy of Magician tucked under his arm. The three of us launched into a discussion about the series as we headed for class. Draco, it transpired, had only just reached the part where Pug was captured by the Tsuranni, and I was only too willing to assure him that everything would turn out all right.

~~~

That evening, I opened The Outsiders to read where I had left off the day I loaned Draco my book. A small note had been taped in the front cover, opposite the note from Sirius.

Harry--

Thanks for letting me borrow your book. I'm enjoying it so far. (In case you're wondering where I am as I write this note, Dally just died and Ponyboy is sick.) I've been reading it aloud to the other boys in my dormitory. Theodore's taken to sleeping in the commons because he doesn't like Muggle literature, but the other boys are enjoying it. Blaise read another one of S. E. Hinton's books--a children's book called The Puppy Sister--and he says it was pretty good. Gregory's read this one, plus The Puppy Sister, plus the book that comes next, and he's promised to find us a copy of it. He said to offer to let you read it when we're done, and I said I'd be delighted to.

I want to thank you double because I can guess how much this book means to you. I read the note--to myself, not aloud--and I know how hard that must've been on you. When I told you Mother's cousin had read it, I had no idea it was Sirius, but I guess that's who it was. I know we've never exactly been good friends, but thank you for trusting me with such a treasured book. I'll try to be nicer in the future.

Your friend,

Draco.

P.S. We finished the book a couple minutes ago, and I thought I'd let you know...I'm going to look at a sunset tonight. I feel a little like Dally--I've never looked at one.

-D.M.

I looked at the note a little longer. After a few seconds, a smile--a real, genuine smile--spread across my face.

It's wonderful to have friends, especially when your friends are your old enemies. I knew everything wouldn't be perfect. Like Ponyboy and Darry, Draco and I would still have disagreements because we were different. But there would be no more fights.

When I looked up, I thought I could see Sirius sitting at the end of my bed, winged and robed, smiling at me. I smiled back.

Thanks, Sirius, I said silently. You've done more for me than you can ever know.

Trust me, Harry, I heard him respond in a silent, ethereal voice. I know. I know.