“Hiya,” he said awkwardly. “Look, before you ask me any questions, I’ll tell you all I can.”
“You don’t have to, Harry,” interrupted Lupin. “We can guess most of it anyway. If you don’t want to say anything we’re more than happy to leave it.”
“Have you seen Dumbledore?”
“Well, yes, we have actually. About two hours ago now. He said absolutely nothing, which is incredibly unlike him.”
Harry didn’t look surprised. “As for you saying you can guess most of it, I can almost promise you that you can’t. When I arrived Voldemort possessed me. Through him, I saw several of his memories. I think you can work out the details. The final memory he showed me was… was of Hallowe’en, fifteen years ago. I was on the verge of giving in to him until Dumbledore…intervened,” Harry broke off. “If it hadn’t been for him…”
Molly, sitting in the corner of the room, was sobbing into Ginny’s shoulder. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George just looked shell shocked. Even Moody was shaking.
Lupin stood up, walked over to Harry, and put his arms around him. “For a while…; first Lily and James, then Sirius, then you…”Lupin broke off, unable to say another word. Finally, they pulled apart.
“Look, I’m here now; safe and well,” murmured Harry. “How about we forget about this. If Voldemort can govern us by fear, we’ve as good as lost the war already, before we’ve even started.”
“That’s the most intelligent that’s ever come out of your mouth, Potter,” a familiar voice added. “I’m not stopping here long, I was just going to give you this, Potter, and you this,” Professor McGonagall added, looking over at Moody. She handed a single phoenix feather to Harry, a small package to Alastor Moody and made to leave the room.
“Ah yes, I forgot something as well,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “Potter, Weasley, Granger, well done. We decided it was better to give these to you personally, since I would be seeing you.” She waved her wand once, smiled, and left the room.
All three looked down and saw large, thick, parchment envelopes in their laps, the Ministry of Magic crest in the top left hand corner, the Hogwarts crest in the top right.
“O.W.Ls” muttered Harry.
“Well noticed, Brainbox,” snapped Ron, who had gone incredibly pale.
“After three then,” Hermione said breathlessly. “Three, two, one…”
Simultaneously, they ripped open their letters.
Dear Mr Potter,
On behalf of the Ministry of Magic we are delighted to inform you of your Ordinary Wizarding Level exam results. Due to a disruption during the exams, all Astronomy and History of Magic grades have been raised to what is perceived to be a reasonable level to compensate for the time lost during each exam.
Once again, I offer my congratulations.
Griselda Marchbanks
Wizarding Examination Authority
Obtainable Grades:
O = Outstanding
E = Exceeds Expectations
A = Acceptable
P = Poor
D = Dreadful
Astronomy : E
Care of Magical Creatures : O
Charms : E
Defence Against the Dark Arts : O
Divination : D
Herbology : E
History of Magic : A
Potions : O
Transfiguration : O
Total O.W.Ls received : 8
Harry guiltily looked back at the letter. It was his fault the marks had been altered in the History of Magic exam. Even so, Harry couldn’t suppress a grin. Eight O.W.Ls, which was more than he could have hoped for! As for Divination, who cares, he thought. Stupid subject.
“…So I got three Os, four Es, two As and a D, although that was in Divination. Stupid subject.” Ron said.
Harry smiled. That was the same as him in Divination!
“What about you, Potter?” growled Moody.
“Er, four Os, three Es, an A and a D. That was in Divination too,” he said, grinning over at Ron.
“Well done Harry!” smiled Lupin. “What were your Os in?”
“Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures and, um, Potions.”
“Never!” squealed Ron. How’d you manage that?!”
“Dunno,” grinned Harry awkwardly. “What about you Hermione?”
“All Os” she said unblushingly.
Ron snorted. “Wow Hermione!” complimented Harry, a slight smirk on his face at Ron’s reaction.
“Well done all of you,” praised Mrs Weasley. “Celebration. Now!”
Glowing with success, Harry stood up and went over to Mrs Weasley to help with the celebratory dinner. The phoenix feather lay forgotten by everyone, and only Lupin gave it a second, slightly curious glance.
The rest of the summer holidays past easily. On his arrival at Grimmauld Place, Harry had found it incredibly hard, each room bringing back painful memories of Sirius, and he’d often wake in the night, screaming for him. Only once did Harry dream of Voldemort, and all the dream contained was Voldemort’s laughter. Harry, who had woken up in a cold sweat, crept downstairs to find Lupin sitting at the kitchen table, holding a mug of cocoa.
“Harry! What’s happened? Is everything all right? Shall I get Dumbledore?”
Harry blushed slightly. “No… everything’s fine.”
“Then,” Lupin continued, looking sideways at Harry, “why on earth were you tossing and turning in bed, crying, and then got the urge to come wandering around downstairs at 3.30 in the morning?
“You can tell me, Harry,” he continued softly.
“Well, it was nothing much. Just Voldemort,” Harry mumbled.
Lupin sighed. “Harry, when are you going to learn? Don’t keep things like that to yourself. We all saw the state you were in when you arrived. You were skin and bone! Don’t let that happen again Harry; we can’t help you if you push us away.”
“I know,” Harry muttered, “I just don’t want to put any more of my friends in danger. The dream was just Voldemort laughing. He didn’t say anything, he just laughed.”
“Alright, Harry. Thank you for telling me,” answered Lupin. “Now, how do you fancy a cup of hot chocolate before you go back to bed?” It was 5am before Harry left the kitchen, but he felt happier and more relaxed than he had in a long time.
“Wake up, sleepy head!” yelled Ron, leaping onto his bed. “Come on, Harry; we’re not going to wait forever you know!”
“Wha…?” groaned Harry. “Why the rush?”
“Well, dipstick, it does happen to be your birthday, in case you didn’t know.”
Harry sat bolt upright, blushing. “Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?!” exclaimed Ron in disbelief. “Honestly…”
Harry threw his pillow at him. “Well, I remember now,” he countered. “I’ll just get dressed and I’ll be down,”
Smirking, Ron left the room.
Something squirmed uncomfortably inside Harry. Don’t think about him now, Harry muttered to himself. Sirius would have wanted me to enjoy today. Still uneasy, Harry went downstairs.
“Happy Birthday!” came the shouts of everyone as he walked into the kitchen. Blushing again, Harry glanced round at everyone gathered there. His eyes, though, were then drawn towards a large heap of presents perched precariously against the far wall.
“Are they for me?” asked Harry in disbelief.
“No, Harry,” George answered in mock seriousness. “We decided to throw a party for that fat muggle bloke that lives at number 13…Who do you think they’re for?!”
Throwing George a disgusted look that couldn’t quite hide his excitement, Harry walked over to the presents.
Fred and George gave him some new prototype products they had just developed to try out at Hogwarts, as well as refills for his snackbox supplies. Tonks and Lupin gave Harry some new defence books, Ron gave him a large bag of chocolate frogs and Hermione had found a book called ‘Advanced Seeker Tactics’. The rest of the Weasley family had pitched in together to give Harry a huge box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Liquorice Wands and Fizzing Whizzbees.
Grinning happily, Harry stood up to thank everyone. Everyone began to disperse and Ron, Charlie and Bill went of upstairs and Harry thought they had a somewhat secretive look about them. Hermione, on the other hand, was chatting to Harry animatedly about nothing in particular and Harry suspected she was trying to stop him following the Weasley boys. After about twenty minutes, Harry excused himself to use the bathroom and he slipped out into the hall and took several deep breaths.
It had been a brilliant birthday so far and yet he couldn’t quite shake off the guilty feeling of when he thought of Sirius. Don’t be stupid, he thought, this is my birthday, I’ve got to enjoy myself.
“Everything alright, Harry?” A voice questioned, breaking through his thoughts.
“Yes,” Harry answered. “Really,” he added as Bill raised an eyebrow. “I was just thinking about Sirius, that’s all.”
Bill looked down and then suddenly gained control of himself. “Harry, why don’t you come upstairs?”
Curiously, Harry followed him.
“Surprise!” all the Weasleys shouted. On the table in the middle of the upstairs lounge, lay the largest birthday cake he’d ever seen in his life. Layer upon layer of chocolate cake stood covered with glitter and small, shiny cut outs of stars and moons, which gradually faded from gold to silver and back again.
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Harry.
“We knew you never had any birthday cakes at the Dursleys so we thought you should have one with us “ hopefully making up for all the ones you’ve missed,”
“Thanks,” Harry replied, although quieter than before.
After an afternoon of fun, food and general chatting, Harry made his way back upstairs to his room. This has been the best birthday ever, Harry thought.
And it was about to get better.
Since Sirius had died, Harry had become the legal owner of Grimmauld Place with all Sirius’ remaining money being divided between Lupin, Harry and the Weasleys. Sirius’ money had helped the Weasley family no end, in the fact that they now had enough money now to enjoy themselves without having to worry about every knut spent.
Because of this, Bill and Charlie, who had come back to England to help with the Order, were able to afford their own flats in London and, since Fred and George now lived over their shop in Diagon Alley, Harry had a room to himself.
It was late, about 11.30, when Harry finally went to his room feeling tired but exhilarated at such a brilliant birthday. Closing his door, Harry made his way over to his bed and fell on to it, staring at the ceiling.
If only Sirius was here, he thought. Then today would have been per-
Harry stooped abruptly as a huge flash of fire appeared directly above him and a small package fell with a thud onto his bed.
“Fawkes?” Harry muttered. He reached over, grabbed the parcel, and untied the neatly knotted string. A small, black box fell out, along with a note written in narrow, loopy handwriting Harry had only ever seen three times before.
This is a Clamcelo - also known as a secrecy orb. You might find it useful.
Happy Birthday.
Intrigued, Harry opened the box to reveal a small, clear blue ball. It could easily have passed for a marble except that in the very centre there was a small prick of brightness which seemed to give off a remarkable amount of light for its size. Looking down, Harry noticed the lid of the box had a slip of paper attached to it. He read it interestedly.
Instructions on how to use your Clamcelo:
1.)Select a fact or memory you wish to keep secret
2.)Holding the Clamcelo in your wand hand, focus on the light inside and the thought passes into the orb itself where it can then be recalled in the same way as above.
Please note : the first person to touch this orb becomes the rightful owner of it and its secrets. If the orb has been touched before, it is invisible unless the rightful owner chooses to reveal to another person of the existence of the orb. Even then, memories and thoughts can only be read if the rightful owner has given their permission. For thoughts to be revealed, the owner must give permission willingly “ nothing is revealed if the permission has been forced in any way.
“Wow!” Harry whispered. He couldn’t believe it “ the Clamcelo was like a secure Pensive. Rereading the instructions, the final sentence leapt out at him. "The owner must give permission willingly “ nothing is revealed if the permission has been forced in any way." So Voldemort couldn’t find out anything if he forced information from him, Harry realised.
Instantly, he picked up the Clamcelo and thought of the Prophecy. The orb began to glow brightly and vibrate until Harry finished the memory of the night Sirius had died. Feeling greatly relieved that there was a way he could keep things secret now from anyone he wanted, including Voldemort, he fell into the first deep, dreamless sleep he’d had in a long time.
A/N : Back to Latin again!
Clam means secretly while celo means to conceal. So, literally, Clamcelo means ‘to conceal secretly’, just in case anyone was wondering.
PS: Pronounce Latin how you like, no-one knows how words should be pronounced at all although I’d guess you would say it CLAM-SELL-LOW. Quite a handy language isn’t it, since no one can agree on how to say anything!!!
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