Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of the Mind

HARRY POTTER AND THE LABYRINTH OF THE MIND

Chapter 3 - A Birthday at Headquarters

When Harry awoke the next morning, he lay, unmoving, for a moment, trying to remember how he even got to bed the night before.

When he left the Weasleys, he was as near to a complete breakdown as he had ever been. Something deep in his chest twisted when he remembered Mrs. Weasley crying, worried that he was upset with her. Mrs. Weasley had been, always, genuinely kind and good to him and the thought of her ever crying because of him was so awful it nearly made him physically ill. It was made far, far worse by the realization that he had, at different times, been upset with her over her disagreements with Sirius.

Then, Harry's stomach really did lurch. He, had made Mrs. Weasley cry and, today, she was giving him a birthday party. He rolled over, pulling the pillow firmly over his head, drowning out the sound of Ron's snores. Well, he thought, I'll just have to make sure she never has to worry about the way I feel again and always knows how grateful I am...

There was a loud pounding on the door followed by a cheerful shout.

"Out of bed, you layabouts! Harry's got presents!"

"It's just sickening that I've got to have a little sister who is so bloody cheerful in the morning," groaned Ron, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Harry was already out of bed and tossed a pillow at Ron's head, glad for something to laugh about.

"C'mon, you great lump! No whining on my birthday!"

It didn't take them long to get dressed and arrive in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley had just placed the last steaming dish on the table. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Bill, and Charlie were taking their seats. There was a chorus of "Good morning, boys," and "Happy birthday, Harry," as Ron and Harry sat down.

To Harry's eyes, the breakfast spread before him rivaled anything the Hogwarts house elves had ever produced. There were kippers, bacon, bangers and mash, toast, scrambled eggs, hot cakes, and several kinds of muffins. In addition, there was fragrant tea, orange juice and milk. But, most amazing of all were the brightly wrapped packages piled atop Harry's plate.

Only in recent years had Harry received proper birthday gifts at all and those were opened in the middle of the night and examined by the shielded light of an electric torch in his bedroom on Privet Drive. Harry looked at them, stunned.

"Oi! Harry, they won't bite," called Charlie, laughing. "Rip 'em open, there's a good lad, before the breakfast goes cold."

"Charlie, it's good to see you," Harry said over the laughter. "Ron said you were home from Romania." Harry couldn't keep down the feeling of delight at being, however temporarily, a part of the Weasley family again.

Charlie nodded cheerfully as Harry lifted the first bundle from the pile. Wrapped in wild and ever-changing plaid paper, the card was signed by Fred, George and Ginny. Tearing away the paper, Harry found a box stuffed with an assortment of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, including plenty of Canary Creams, Skiving Snackboxes, and even a few Weasley's Wildfire Whiz Bangs. Harry grinned across the table at Ginny.

"These are brilliant, thank you," he said. "Be sure to thank the twins for me, too, won't you?"

Ginny nodded, smiling broadly while Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in disapproval. In the meantime, Harry unwrapped a second package, this time from Bill and Charlie. It was a book, but one Harry was sure Hermione would never have picked out. It was called NEWT Level Studies, 101 Advanced Heckling Charms for the Gifted Prankster, by Fargus Fewldum.

"With the twins gone," Charlie said with a manic grin, "the common room may get to seeming too quiet. We trust you'll see to that problem." Charlie shot a glance at Ron and Ginny, too, causing everyone but Mrs. Weasley to snigger.

The third gift was from Ron and had a full supply of chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and a special scrap book for Harry's now sizable collection of chocolate frog cards. Harry thanked him with a promise to share the bounty.

"What I really want," laughed Ron, "is a look at those heckling charms."

One present remained and Harry turned to it with interest. It was wrapped in purple paper sprinkled with small silver stars which really twinkled. A tag tied to the silver bow read, "To Harry, with much love, Arthur and Molly Weasley." He smiled shyly at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and gently pulled the paper free. Lifting the lid of the box, Harry saw what looked like a crystal ball filled with a swirling silver substance that resembled quicksilver. It was nearly the size of his two fists and looked a bit like Neville Longbottom's Remembrall. Harry picked it up, a little puzzled. Seeing his expression, Mr. Weasley explained.

"It's a Contemplation Sphere, Harry. It's a bit like a pensieve, although you can't store any memories in it. It's really just a crystal ball that has been charmed for a specific individual, to recall their memories. Molly and I worked on the charm for this one and it will respond only to you.

"You simply say, 'Memorarae' and the name of the place, event or person you are wanting to remember. The ball then shows all the memories from your mind, whether you actually can recall them or not. To retrieve a specific memory, you give specific names, place, event and time and off it goes. If you just give a name in the spell, all your memories related to it will appear in reverse chronology. The drawback, of course, is it rather tires you out so the spell won't last long."

"Wow," Harry breathed in admiration, "that's amazing."

"And a nice bit of magic, there," added Bill. "That's no simple charm work. Leave it to Mum and Dad to pull off a charm like that."

"Try it, Harry," begged Ginny, excitedly. "Let's see how it works."

Harry thought for a moment, then held the sphere before him, balanced on his palms.

"Memorarae first birthday," Harry said quietly.

The silver contents of the Contemplation Sphere began swirling faster and emitting a soft glow. Gradually, the silver faded and the ball revealed an image like a small muggle video. Everyone drew a collective breath when they saw Harry's memory.

There was a dark haired man who was unmistakably James Potter, smiling broadly at auburn-haired, green-eyed Lily Potter. She was holding a laughing Baby Harry on her knees. On the table before them was a small cake decorated with sugar animals and a single candle. In red icing letters, it read, "Happy First Birthday, Harry." James leaned forward, lips pursed, showing little Harry how to blow out the candle. Little Harry copied his father, putting out the candle with a series of puffs, rather wetter than intended. With a laugh and a kiss, Lily dried Harry's chin while James cut the cake. The image began to fade back to silver and Harry put his hands to the table with a sigh.

Everyone was silent for a few moments, but then Ginny looked up at Harry, her eyes overbright.

"That was a lovely memory, Harry. Thank you for showing us."

Harry gave a small smile and looked down at the silver sphere before him.

"I've never been able to remember that before. I... well, thank you."

"How do you feel, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "As Arthur said, the Memorarae charm can be a bit draining."

"I do feel a bit tired," Harry admitted, "but it is already going away. I'm fine."

"Well, then," said Mr. Weasley heartily, "a very happy birthday to you, Harry! Let's eat!"

Harry carefully set aside his gifts and joined the others in a very big breakfast. Suddenly, a thought came to Ron.

"Mum, hasn't there been an owl or something from Hermione? I know she wouldn't forget Harry's birthday."

"Not to worry," answered Mrs. Weasley. "We had word from Tonks this morning. She was at the Grangers yesterday and Hermione gave her Harry's gift to deliver. Tonks will be here for the Order's meeting tonight and will bring it along then."

After everyone had eaten and the plates were floated to the sink for washing, Mr. Weasley and Bill rose reluctantly.

"Well, I'm afraid Bill and I had best be off to work," Mr. Weasley said. "Can't put off the Ministry."

"And I wouldn't want to be the one to annoy a bunch of goblins by being late," added Bill. "We'll see you all at dinner."

After they had gone out the garden door, Mrs. Weasley turned to the others.

"Well, you lot can't sit inside all day. Charlie, suppose you take them to that clearing you found and have some quidditch."

"Mum," Ginny said, "we didn't bring our brooms."

"I brought them with me, Gin," Charlie explained, "and Kingsley Shacklebolt came by before you were up with all of Harry's things. They're in the corner, there."

Sure enough, there was Harry's trunk, along with his Firebolt, which had been returned to him after Dolores Umbridge's departure from Hogwarts. With some help from Ron, Harry moved his trunk into their room. Then, Charlie, Ginny, Ron and Harry set off.

"There's a nice-sized clearing in the woods over this way," Charlie directed, and set off.

"Charlie, where are we anyway?" questioned Ginny. "We came by portkey and Mum never mentioned it."

"She didn't mention it," he answered, "because she was told not to. The fewer who know about this place, the better. We know you wouldn't intentionally go about telling people, but there are lots of other ways for spies to find out."

Harry started to argue, but Ron's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No point in arguing Harry," Ron hissed, "not when he looks like that."

Harry looked over at Charlie's set jaw and narrowed eyes. He had to admit, Ron had a point.

They walked the rest of the way through the woods to the clearing in silence. It was a hot, still day with the only sounds coming from the birds and insects. When they came out of the shade of the woods and into the sun filled clearing, Ginny gasped.

"It's already set up for quidditch!" she exclaimed, pointing at the goal hoops at either end of the oblong area. "Charlie, did you do this?"

"Guilty as charged," laughed Charlie. "The spot is too perfect to not use. I stopped here on my way to the house this morning and made a few arrangements. As long as we don't go above the level of the trees, we're okay."

So, the four spent the rest of the morning on Charlie's quidditch field. At first, Charlie led them in some warm up and practice maneuvers with Ron as keeper, Harry as his beater, and Ginny and Charlie playing chasers trying to score on him. Harry could see that Ron had really improved and Ginny made quite a respectable chaser. He remembered she had wanted to move to that position upon Harry's return to the team.

That made Harry wonder. Although Professor McGonagall had returned his broom on the last day of school, nothing had been said about lifting the life-time ban issued by Umbridge. Surely, with her departure and Dumbledore's return, Harry would be allowed to return to the team. He fervently hoped so.

After a bit, they switched to a two on two game with Ron and Charlie as keepers and Ginny and Harry as chasers. They were well matched and the score was still tied, 60-60, when the agreed to call it a draw and head back for lunch.

Harry was feeling particularly satisfied and more than a little sleepy as they sat at the kitchen table chatting after lunch. He was just thinking of a nice doze in a comfortable chair someplace when Mrs. Weasley roused him.

"Harry, Annwyl is awake and a bit stronger today," she said. "She's been asking for a chance to see you."

Surprised, but admittedly curious, Harry rose to follow Mrs. Weasley from the room. As he reached the door, Charlie called after him.

"Harry, remember, we don't know where she'd been all these years or why she's turned up now. She may be alright, but... well, just be careful."

Harry nodded and left.

When they reached the door of Annwyl's room, Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry.

"Harry, I know Charlie has warned you already so I won't fuss. Just remember, she's still very weak. Try not to tire her out before tonight's meeting. Dumbledore wants the Order to hear the story directly from her and she'll need her strength."

With that, she opened the door and leaned in.

"Annwyl, Harry's come to see you."

She nudged Harry through the door and departed, saying something about dinner preparations as she moved off.

"Er, hello, Miss King," Harry said, somewhat uncomfortably.

"Oh, come in an sit down, Harry," Annwyl answered smoothly, "and do call me Annwyl."

Harry moved to the chair she had indicated, watching her with interest. The bandages on her neck and shoulder were gone and the only visible remains of her injuries was a slight pink tinge to the recently healed skin. She was still quite pale and tired looking and Harry assumed this to be from the loss of blood and the effects of the magic which had complicated her wounds.

Now, in better light and with Annwyl awake, he was able to see what she actually looked like. As Harry had seen before, she was quite a small woman. Her most remarkable feature was certainly her hair which was very dark brown, wildly curly and was long enough to reach her waist. Otherwise, her features, while not displeasing, were not particularly striking. Her expression was pleasant enough, but there was something about her mouth and eyes which made Harry fell this woman would not be easy to know.

While Harry had been watching Annwyl, she had, evidently, been watching him. After a moment, she nodded.

"Remus was right. You are like your father, yet also like your mother."

Harry did not respond, but endeavored to keep a look of polite interest. He had heard, many times, how much he resembled his father.

"Your features are James'," she continued, "but your expressions are Lily's. I suppose you'd like to ask some questions of me, Harry?"

He was slightly taken aback by the abrupt invitation, but after a moment's thought, he nodded.

"Well, of course, Miss... er, Annwyl, I guess we'd all like to ask where you've been all these years when everyone thought you were dead."

"Certainly," she answered, placidly. "I understand Albus wants me to address the Order this evening on that very subject, as well as on how I happened to arrive at the Dursley residence and the attacks which killed the Order operative and injured me. If you'll be so kind as to indulge me, I'll wait until the meeting to answer those questions. Any others?"

She smoothed the bedclothes carefully with her hands. As she did so, the sleeve of her pajama top pulled up, revealing the scar on her right arm which Harry had seen the night she arrived.

"Would you mind telling me how you happened to get that scar? Did you get it while you were an Auror?"

"Remus told me you were thinking of being an Auror," Annwyl smiled a little. "No, this scar is much older than that.

"Harry, do you know anything about fencing?"

"Er, what, like wrought iron or picket or something?" Harry answered, much puzzled.

"No, no," Annwyl replied, "I mean swordplay. Like in those old muggle films with the Musketeers and Robin Hood and such."

Harry shook his head.

"Well, I'll explain the whole sport another time," she went on. "To make a long story short, years ago, I found myself in a a real fight with, of all crazy things, rapiers - sharp ones, mind. The bloke I was fighting managed to come across my arm with his blade and since I was certainly no healer, by the time I found someone who was, the cut was on its way to becoming a scar. It didn't help that the blade that did it was enchanted with on of the lesser dark curses to hinder healing."

"How in the world did you get in a fight like that?" Harry questioned, curious about a fight which seemed so very dangerous.

"I came across the fellow in Diagon Alley a few days before start of term, my sixth year," said Annwyl. "He was shooting off his mouth about my house and I decided I didn't like his attitude. I let my temper get the better of me and agreed to a bout on his terms. I was arrogant enough to believe I could take him, whatever the circumstances."
She shook her head reminiscently. "Stupid way to behave, really."

"So what happened?" pressed Harry.

"Ah, well, I allowed him to choose our weapons so he brought our a pair of rapiers. His, of course, was cursed to really hurt while mine was hexed to resist the will of the one wielding it. Luckily for me, the hex wasn't strong and I was able to get around it. I gave my new friend some pretty new marks on his cheeks and he turned tail and fled, but not before cutting my arm. At least, he learned to avoid me at school."

"He must have been Slytherin," Harry observed, darkly. "They really can't stand Gryffindors, can they?"

"Actually, no," Annwyl said. "He was Hufflepuff, which was rather surprising, and I was Ravenclaw. Usually, the houses got along fine."
There was a tap at the door and Mrs. Weasley looked in.

"Harry, dear, I think it would be best to let Annwyl have some time to rest now. She's going to need her strength for this evening. Is there anything you need, Annwyl?"

"No, thank you very much, Molly," Annwyl replied. "I believe I shall just do as you suggest and rest, for now."

Mrs. Weasley nodded and left. Harry looked curiously at Annwyl, wondering why her eyes and voice had suddenly grown cool. Frowning to himself, he rose to go.

"It was nice talking with you, Annwyl."

"Wait, Harry," she said, her hand outstretched, "we never got around to talking about you and I would like to know more about you. We will talk again soon, won't we? I should be getting about by tomorrow."

She gave him a keen look, making him squirm a bit. Nodding, he left the room. Harry was headed back toward the kitchen when Ron met him in the sitting room door.
"There you are," he said. "Ginny says you aren't allowed in the kitchen until dinner. She's decorating and has Charlie helping her. I've been banished, as well, and even Professor Lupin has been given the bum's rush. So, come on and let's have some chess or something."

"Yes, Harry," said Remus over Ron's shoulder, "come join us. I've just got in and haven't had a chance to celebrate your birthday, yet. And, by the way Ron, I haven't been your professor for more than two years. I think you ought to call me Remus."

The three went in and sat down by the low table in front of the hearth. Harry's thoughts were still on his recent talk with Annywyl. Ron started to ask questions, but Harry gave him a look that clearly said, "Later."

"Remus," Harry said, "how did you come to know Annwyl?"
"Well, she was Dumbledore's goddaughter," Remus shrugged. "I don't suppose there's much mystery to that. She was a couple years behind us in school and she was a Ravenclaw so we didn't know her well, but we had met. Of course, once we were all working in the Order we knew each other better." He chuckled. "At one point, she was even teaching me to fence."

"You mean that muggle stuff where you fight with swords?" asked Ron, eagerly. "Dad told us about that. It's supposed to be a means of disciplining the mind. Some even call it a physical form of chess." This explained his interest to Harry.

"Yeah, she talked about fencing," Harry said, thoughtfully. "I asked about the scar on her arm."

"Well, her father was a champion and trained her from the time she could hold a foil," Remus said. "She does use it as a form of mental self-control. In fact, that's why she taught me. Lycanthropy can induce some emotional volatility, especially near the full moon. Wyl though fencing would help me focus, and it did, at least, as long as I had a partner for bouting."

"D'you think she'd teach us, once she's feeling better?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, Ron," answered Remus, doubtfully. "It's pretty demanding, physically. I guess it depends on her recovery."

Somehow, Harry felt they'd talked about Annwyl King enough for one day. Charlie's warning was fresh in his memory and he couldn't shake the impression that she would be very difficult to know. All that, plus her strange arrival on Privet Drive aroused Harry's distrust, despite her being Dumbledore's goddaughter and her friendly conversation earlier.

After a moment's silence, Harry spoke up changing the subject.

"Let's have a game then, yeah? Since there are three of us, how about Exploding Snap?"
"Oh, I haven't played in years," Remus protested, laughing.

"But it's my birthday..." whined Harry, his lip out in a mock pout. Ron joined him in looking as comically pitiful as possible.

"Alright, alright!" Remus gave in. "Just, for goodness sake, stop looking like that. It's frightening."
So, the rest of the afternoon was spent in the sitting room. The stresses of the last couple days found their way out of Harry by way of some particularly rash moves during the game which resulted in more than one singed finger. Remus was especially glad when they were called to dinner and entered the kitchen, still nursing a smoking eyebrow.

Harry entered the kitchen and stopped in amazement. Ginny and Charlie had outdone themselves. The ceiling was lit with tiny fluttering fairylights. Streamers festooned the molding around the room in bright and constantly changing colors. A ring of small lanterns floated over the table.

"Wow," breathed Harry. "This is brilliant!"

Mrs. Weasley waved them all to their seats and, just before sitting down, Harry remembered the look in Ginny's eye when she volunteered to decorate. He surreptitiously looked over his seat, but it seemed okay. Another quick glance under and behind the chair revealed nothing so Harry gave up and sat down. Once seated, he was able to see all Mrs. Weasley's preparations on his behalf. The table was, again, loaded with dishes, featuring all Harry's favorites.

Mr. Weasley and Bill had arrived, so as soon as everyone was seated, Ginny cleared her throat and announced in an unusually solemn tone,

"Happy birthday, Harry."

As if signaled by her words, two dozen fairylights dropped from the ceiling and zoomed around Harry's head in dizzy patterns.

"Hey! What the...watch it!... Oh, go on!... GINNY!" Harry exclaimed as the fairies whizzed past his nose, nearly taking his glasses with them.

There was no assistance for Harry, though, as the whole table had dissolved in helpless laughter. Even Mrs. Weasley could be seen dabbing at her eyes.

"They're Following Formation Fairies, Harry," Ginny gasped, grinning. "Fred and George's latest. They're charmed to hover in formation over the guest of honor for as long as he or she is in the room."

Harry was brushing the persistent creatures away from his face and noticed a tiny, tinkling sound.

"Ginny, are they... laughing?"

By now, the Weasleys were in such a state they could scarcely draw breath.

"Don't worry," Ginny managed at last, "they'll settle into patterns over your head in a moment."

Sure enough, after a few more wild passes before Harry's eyes, the fairies began a much calmer series of intricate formations about six inches above his head. Harry was left to eat in relative peace as they formed circles, triangles and star patterns with tight precision.

After eating all the steak and kidney pie he could hold, Harry was slowly finishing his treacle tart when Tonks entered from the garden door.

"Ooo! Is that treacle tart I smell?" she asked, inhaling deeply. "Oh, Molly, please

tell me there's a bit left for a weary woman."

Tonks closed her eyes and put the back of her hand to her forehead, tragically. Mrs. Weasley answered by laughingly conjuring another chain and place at the table as Bill passed the tart.

"Ah, brilliant," said Tonks, settling at the table with a satisfied sigh. "Many happy returns of the day, Harry, I'm sure. I did my hair specially, just for the occasion. Like it?"

Harry gazed in amused wonder at her. Instead of her usual brightly colored spikes, Tonks had done her hair in tightly twisted, multicolored corkscrews.

"It's great," he told her, grinning.

"Thanks! By the way, I love what you've done with your fairies." As she spoke, they formed a sparkly heart over Harry's head, causing him to give them a mildly impatient swat.

"Oh, and Hermione asked me to bring this to you," Tonks added, passing a small package over to Harry.

Harry opened the attached note first and, smiling, read Hermione's tiny, perfect script aloud.

Happy Birthday, Harry!

Tonks was good enough to deliver this for me, so I knew it would be on time. She told me a bit of what happened at the Dursleys. I'm glad you are safely at

headquarters now, but I must admit to being a bit jealous. It's dull as a wet day here.

At least, there isn't anything to distract me from my homework. I've nearly finished

now. (At this, Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny giggled.)

I hope you enjoy your gift. The advertisement said it was the latest model and

guaranteed to be accurate.

Love,

From Hermione's

Inside the wrapping was a box labeled, "From the makers of Qwik Qwotes Qwills - The Qwiktate Qwill, guaranteed 100% accurate, excellent for students."

"Wow," said Harry, reading the inner packaging, "this says it will accurately record anything I say." He looked at the scarlet quill appreciatively. "I hope it is as accurate as it says. Imagine me turning in a Transfiguration essay written with one of Rita Skeeter's quills."

Once everyone was again busy with dessert and conversations, Remus leaned over and spoke in Harry's ear.

"Harry, I have a gift for you, as well, but I think it might be better for you to see it someplace more, er, private. Let's go out in the garden."

They excused themselves and slipped out into the dusk. Harry noticed the moon was nearly full. Remus was in for a hard time of it in a few days. Harry knew Moony had had Padfoot's company for all the full moons of the last couple of years. This would be only the second full moon since Sirius' death.

Seating themselves on a stone bench not far from the house, Remus turned to Harry, holding a small box.

"Harry, this gift really isn't from me, at all. The original giver was your father. James gave this to Sirius on his sixteenth birthday. It matched one your grandfather had given James at the same time. Unfortunately, James' was destroyed... Well, I know Sirius was planning to give this to you today. Really, the gift is his."

Harry took the box, his hands shaking. Lifting the lid, he drew out a lovely silver pocket watch. The exterior of the case was quite plain, but the inside of the lid, when opened, revealed engraving on the silver surface.

Go where you will, the bond of affection remains.

"It is amazing," said Harry softly. "Remus, I don't know what to say."

"Just keep it with you, Harry. It meant a great deal to Sirius and it would please him and James to know it was with you now."

Harry sat staring at the watch, his heart swelling with emotion which choked off all speech. Into this quiet scene, Mr Weasley reluctantly entered.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but it's time you were both inside. The Order is arriving."