Harry Potter and the Adventure He Affectionately Calls Life

Tomás Crivellare woke up on Tuesday morning and looked at his Nymphs in the Nude calendar. Potter gets that letter today, he thought. Maybe I can foil his plans.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Albus Dumbledore had some obsession with the color purple. He wore it all the time. And the guest bathroom looked like a huge grape. On the other hand, Potter's been waiting forever for this, he thought, pulling down his silken boxers and sitting on the porcelain throne. And it would be completely evil of me to ruin it.

He picked up the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and skimmed through it. But I do love a good mystery, and that letter is as good a mystery as they come.

After he finished his "business", he stood up and watched as the toilet flushed automatically. Like one of those muggle toilets with sensors, he thought, crinkling his nose in disgust. I don't want any muggle influence in this school.

Walking back to his bed, he wondered how he, Tomás Crivellare, Master of Disaster, could get his hands on that letter. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

Poor Dumbledore has to leave for the African Apparation Academy, he thought tragically. But it's letter day. I'll offer my services and fly down to the bogus meeting. Then he'll refuse my offer, but tell me to give the letter to Potter. And I'll emerge from this looking like Saint Tom. Dumbledore's so disgustingly predictable, it's not even funny anymore.

He scribbled a letter and, signing it with the current headmaster of the AAA, grinned the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.

_________________________________________________________________

The mail came as normal Tuesday morning at breakfast. Fawkes flew in, carrying an envelope.

"Good morning, Fawkes," Albus said cheerfully. "What do you have there?" He pulled the letter from Fawkes' leg and fed his pheonix a bit of waffle. "Oh, from the African Apparation Academy!"

"What do they want?" Severus wanted to know.

"I'm not sure," Albus admitted. "Let's find out."

"Any day now, Albus," Minerva grumbled.

"Dear Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, we are indeed most apologetic for the short notice, but there is an emergency meeting for all headmasters tonight at seven o'clock. If you are absolutely unable to attend, you may send a representative. Once again, please accept our most sincere apologies for the delay in notification. Signed, Jambor Z. Dessim, headmaster of the African Apparation Academy."

"Albus, that's horrible," Minerva said. "And on your last day teaching, too."

Albus nodded his head grimly.

"Why do offered. "It says you can send a representative. This way you can finish your last day of classes before the new Professor takes over your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes tomorrow."

"No, no. I'll teach my morning classes, then leave." Harry's letter, he told himself. He's waited forever for it.

Albus looked over to the Gryffindor table where Harry was sitting with Lana. Hermione and Ron seemed to have gotten over whatever problem they had and were laughing over some joke. Harry looked more alive than he had been in a while. Almost as if he could feel the gaze Albus was giving him, Harry turned in the direction of the teachers table. Harry stared at Albus, the message "tonight's the night," in his eyes.

"Tomás," Albus said suddenly, "could I have a word with you?"

"Certainly." He smiled. "What's up?"

"I promised Harry something. I have to give him a letter tonight. But since I have this meeting to attend, I will inform Harry that you will be giving it to him. Do you mind?"

"Not at all, Headmaster. In fact, I'm honored!"

"Thank you, Tomás," he said gratefully.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Harry, could I have a word with you?" Professor Dumbledore called after class was over.

"Sure." He walked to Dumbledore. "Is this about the letter?"

"Has it left your mind at all?"

"No."

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "I can't give it to you tonight."

"What?!"

"There was a letter from the African Apparation Academy. There's some Headmaster meeting tonight. I have to go."

"Professor Dumbledore, that's not fair! I've waited so long for this letter, and now you're going to tell me I have to wait another twenty-eight days? That's bull shit! No way!"

"Mr. Potter, may I finish?"

"Go ahead," Harry said grandly.

"I am aware that your letter is to be recieved today. So I've given Mr. Crivellare your letter and he'll give it to you tonight."

Mr. Crivellare! Ugh. Anyone but him, Harry thought. Well, except maybe Snape, but still. McGonagall, Flitwick, Trelawney. Anyone! "That's fine," Harry said, hoping he sounded convincing.

"Good," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding once. "Well then, I guess I should get ready..."

Harry threw his uot;You're an amazing teacher, sir," he said, his voice rich with admiration. "And you're an amazing person." He gathered his belongings and smiled. "Best of luck at your meeting."

Outside the room, Harry realized two things. One, he didn't even try to figure out who the new teacher was. Two, he would rather have recieved that letter from Snape because Snape was on their side.

__________________________________________________________________

Tomás had read the letter from Harry's godfather. He had written another letter in Sirius' handwriting and was debating whether or not to give the fake letter to Harry instead of the real one.

Just then, Harry knocked on the door.

"Thanks. Uh... Did Professor Dumbledore give you my letter?"

"As a matter of fact... he did." Let the kid have some fun. Tomás slipped the actual letter into the envelope and handed it to Harry, who was looking around the room and did not notice that the letter was out of the envelope.

"Thanks," Harry said, placing it into a pocket of his robes and standing up. "Good night."

"Good night, Harry. Enjoy."

Harry walked with as much dignity as he could to Mr. Crivellare's door. After he shut it tightly and was sure he was in the hallway, away from him, Harry picked up his pace. The Gryffindor Common room really wasn't all that far from the guest room, but it seemetook all of Harry's self control not to run back screaming "I've got it, I've got it!", as if the letter was some kind of winning golden ticket inside a chocolate bar that would enable him to go to a chocolate lover's heaven.

"Centaur," he said excitedly, walking into the common room. It was oddly quiet for a Tuesday night. Most Tuesday nights, people were up finishing homework or writing letters to their parents. That, and amorous couples who didn't want to go to the astronomy tower. Today, however, there were just three people in the common room: Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Lana's upstairs," Ron explained. "She said to tell you she loves you and that she knows that this is something us three have to do."

"Right..." Harry said, dazed. In spite of the thrill of having the letter in his hands, he felt a little guilty. Lana's as much a part of our group as any of us. She should be here. She's been so paitent with me. So what if she doesn't know all the details in person? Ron's told her almost everything, anyway!

"Actually," Harry said thoughtfully. "Hermione, go call her."

Ron grinned as Hermione dashed off. "No one expected that, Harry," he said. "Lana understood totally."

"That's why I had to do it. I don't want to be so predictable," Harry joked. "Seriously, though, she's been so understanding, it would be unfair of me to not have her be a part of this."

Hermione and Lana descended from the staircase, Lana smiling at her boyfriend. She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead gently. Now they stood in the a huge room decorated in scarlet and gold, with only the fire as a source of light. The fire crackled in the fireplace, almost urging Harry on.

"Ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Harry looked down at the envelope, his hands trembling. "I can't," he said. "Oh God, I can't open this letter." He thrust the envelope away from him, almost directly into the fireplace.

"The full moon will be gone in a few hours," Hermione reasoned, grabbing his arm before the letter was destroyed. "Do you really want to destroy the last thing Sirius gave you?"

"Yes."

"No you don't," Ron insisted.

"No I don't." With a deep breath, he opened the envelope and took the letter out. His name was scrawled in Sirius'div name="Normal" align="left" style="margin: 1.74mm 0.00mm 1.74mm 0.00mm; padding: 0.00mm 0.00mm 0.00mm 0.00mm; ">

It was at that moment that Harry felt the closeness of his two best friends. Ron was peering down from his right and Hermione was peering from his left. Lana sat on the sofa right next to them, staring intensely. Maybe it was Harry's imagination, but it seemed that the four of them inhaled and exhaled at the same time.

Hands shaky, he unfolded the letter. The crinkling of the paper sounded so loud. It was quite deafening. "Harry," he began. "There is so much I need to tell you and so little time..."

__________________________________________________________________

Harry,

There is so much I need to tell you and so little time. My minutes are numbered, and that number cannot be more than 15. 20 at most. And if I last be very surprised. I know you are going to want to know how I managed to write one last letter, and although it will take time away, I will not deprive you the answer to the one last question I could have possibly answered. Your father told me to always have a parchment and quill with me at all times. Doesn't matter how big or small, just have one for safe keeping. Brilliant man, your father. I'm sure you'll be just like him. But I had no ink. And when I fell through the veil, Remus jumped after me. He injured himself quite badly. But through his blood, I was able to write this to you. I just hope you can read it.

But now to the point of this letter. Voldemort has returned. You know that. Harry, be careful. You've faced him before and you have always emerged victorious. But this is going to be different. Do not count on help from anyone, not even Dumbledore. God knows he would help you if he could, and he just may, but remember that in the end, it is you and not Dumbledore that has to face Voldemort. And maybe that end will be five minutes after reading this. Or maybe that end will be years from now after you have graduated out of Hogwarts. Or maybe you have recieved this after the death of Voldemort, in which case, I never doubted you for a minute.

But let's face the facts. The odds of that happening are quite slim. The odds of you already having defeated Voldemort, I mean.

Keep your loved ones close. Keep your enemies closer. Maintain a distance from both so that you won't get hurt. But then again, what sort of life can you live if you don't get hurt? This is my last will and testament to you, Harry, and I am torn between two peices of advice to give you. Do I give you the advice your mother and father would have wanted me to give you, the advice a godfather should give his godson? Or should I tell you all that I have heard just moments before, things that could help you in the war against evil.

I am going to die, Harry. Let's not deny this fact. Already I can feel myself growing cold and this quill gets harder and harder to hold. And I feel like giving up, like signing my name and letting go. But you wouldn't like that. And your father wouldn't like that, either. And so I am going to push myself to finish this.

Voldemort is here. I wish I could tell you the details, and I would if I could but I can't. It's not because of the rotten timing. I don't know the details. If anything happens to you, it is my own idiocy that is to blame. In ways that you could never imagine, Voldemort will find you.

Oh, God, Harry, be careful.

Don't cry, Harry. I know it's hard. Don't think of me going. You know I would stay if I could.

And with that, I leave you now.

Your godfather,

Sirius

_______________________________________________________________

Harry stared at the letter. He felt strange inside. He felt relieved the le't contained a cryptic "beware," yet strangely hollow knowing that now that he had read the letter, he had nothing to look forward to. Except maybe death and destruction, but Harry could pass on that.

"You alright there, Harry?" Ron asked, looking at him, obviously very concerned.

"Yeah." He stared at the letter. "No. I'm not sure."

Hermione hugged him. "Oh God, Harry," was all she could say. And that, too, was difficult, as tears were streaming down her face. "Oh God."

Ron took her into his arms and held her quietly. "It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay." Ron's voice was thick with emotion.

Lana looked at Harry, her eyes shining with admiration and love. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "You don't know how much it meant to me."

"I think I can imagine," Harry replied tonelessly. He knew Lana would take no offense in his lack of enthusiasm. He knew she knew it wasn't her. He knew she knew he was tired. Physically. Emotionally. Just so tired.

"You guys..." Ron, Hermione, and Lana looked at him. "I'm gonna' go to sleep. G'nite." He smiled at Lana, then left the room.

__________________________________________________________________

duty when the Headmaster got back. "Albus! How was your meeting?"

"Quite lovely," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Jambor and I ate baklava and caught up on the wizarding soap opreas."

"I somehow doubt Jambor Dessim call you to his academy to discuss soaps."

"Ah, yes, that meeting," Albus said, growing serious. "It turns out there was none."

"What? But.. but you recieved an owl, Albus."

&prank calls all the time."

"Well of course, but from the academy, Albus? That's no practical joke."

"Oh, come on, now, Minerva. Where's your sense of humor?"

"Age knows no humor," she responded sourly.

"I'm offended,as I'm almost double your age and still funny. At least, I like to think I am."

"Albus, can we please be serious for a few minutes hereor="Black">

"Certainly, Minerva." He smiled.

Severus's footsteps could be heard before his voice. "I heard voices, Minerva. Everything alright?"

"Fine, Severus. Just fine."

"Oh! Headmaster! How did your meeting go?"

"There was none. It was probably some one's idea of a joke."

"Be sure to thank them for me?" the Headmaster suggested. "I haven't seen Jambor in quite some time. And we got to catch up on wizarding soap opreas."

"And they had baklava," Minerva chimmed in.

Severus looked at them in confusion. "Well, if that's all, I'll be going back to sleep. Good night, Headmaster. Minerva."

"Good night, Severus." After they were sure he was out of earshot, Minerva began firing questions at him. "Who could have donefont color="Black">

Albus began counting on his fingers. "Misters Fred and George Weasley, Mr. Lee Jordan, Mr. Malfoy, hell, it could have been Harry. There are also pranksters at the AAA." He smiled. "Minnie, it could have been anyone."

"But not Harry. Why would he send you away on the day he was to recieve his letter?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Ron and Hermione told me. Harry had been completely off in my class for a few days, so I asked Ron and Hermione what was wrong and they told me."

"I see."

"Albus, you don't think the letter came from anyone... outside, do you?"

"You mean dark magic?"

Minerva nodded.

"You know, Minerva, it's a possibility. There are many possibilities. But right now, we don't know which possibility is the right one." He smiled at her. "Anyway, I'm going to go. Something about the African sun makes me very tired." He shook his head, grinning. "Good night, Minnie."