Harry’s stomach clenched; in front of him stood the woman that he hated more than any other female he’d ever met “ more than Aunt Petunia, more than Dolores Umbridge “ this was the woman who had killed Sirius, this was the woman who had almost killed Ginny, who was now unconscious in his arms and bleeding from the head because of the unfeeling, heartless Bellatrix Lestrange.
“What’s the matter?” sneered Bellatrix. “Worried she might die? It wouldn’t be such a great loss. Perhaps I should put her out of her misery.”
She raised her wand and pointed it at Ginny. Harry, who was still squashed between Ginny and the wardrobe, did the only things he could do; he kicked out with his foot, knocking Bellatrix back a few unsteady steps, and using the time as she recovered to drag himself and his rag-doll girlfriend out from behind the wardrobe.
“Not very friendly,” said Bellatrix. “You ought to learn some manners, Potter.”
“Don’t you speak to me about manners,” said Harry, not being able to help himself. “You killed my godfather!”
“Ah, yes!” chirped Bellatrix, as if she had forgotten that particular murder. “Dear cousin Sirius… a blood-traitor if ever there was one… he didn’t deserve to live “ “
“SHUT UP!” Harry roared. He wanted to hurt Bellatrix and didn’t care that he had no wand, but he had to hold on to Ginny.
“Aw, did you lovey-wov him?” jeered Bellatrix, in a disgusting baby voice. “I suppose the closest thing you’ve got to a family now are your pathetic Muggle-loving friends and that excuse-for-a-witch you’re so carefully clutching. Too bad about your parents…”
“This so called “excuse-for-a-witch” happens to love me more than anyone ever has, or ever will love you,” retorted Harry.
Bellatrix smirked.
“I suppose she reminds you of your filthy Mudblood mother. She’ll probably die just the same “ “
“At least my mother lost her life to save someone she loved,” said Harry, “which is more to her name than anything you’re ever done is to yours…”
“Well now you can add this to your name, Harry Potter,” spat Bellatrix. “Avada Keda “ !“
Ginny took a great, shuddering breath, her eyes snapping open, flickering hauntingly, then closing again. Bellatrix had been distracted by this, but Harry didn’t notice.
“Ginny!” he said urgently, shaking her slightly.
“Harry,” she whispered. “Ow, my head…”
“It’s going to be okay,” said Harry softly, noticing how much of her blood had stained his hand.
“Bellatrix… the house…” she muttered.
“As cute as this is,” interrupted Bellatrix. “I’m afraid it’s time to take one last look at her, Sonny. Here lies the end of the adventure you call ‘life’… Avada Ked - !”
“STUPEFY!”
The door swung open, and there stood Ron and Hermione, wands out, looking to Harry like two glorious beacons of hope.
Bellatrix froze, then fell to the floor with a resounding thunk. Hermione, who had cast the spell, was wearing an expression of mingled fear and worry.
“Ginny!” gasped Ron, seeing the blood in her hair and dashing forwards to help Harry.
“We need to get back straight away,” murmured Harry, his mind a blur.
“It’s okay, Harry,” said Hermione kindly. “Ron’ll take Ginny.”
Harry reluctantly let Ron pick Ginny up, and Hermione took Harry’s hand, giving him his wand which she had prized from Bellatrix’s fingers.
“Come on,” she said.
Harry didn’t know what to feel as the four weary friends cautiously made their way back to the kitchen and Flooed back to Grimmauld Place. His thoughts were a mess of anger, worry, fear and relief. Half of him was still mad at Ginny for going back to The Burrow, but the other half knew that he would have done the same, and just stayed thankful that she was alive.
“Don’t tell Mum,” whispered Ginny in his ear when they arrived back in the kitchen of the Order’s Headquarters. Harry nodded “ he hadn’t been going to anyway.
“Let’s go and clean you up,” Hermione said to Ginny, and she led them all up to their bedroom, thankfully not meeting anyone they knew on the way.
“How did you know we were there?” asked Harry, whilst Hermione stopping Ginny’s bleeding.
“It was pretty obvious when you both disappeared,” answered Ron.
Hermione had finished helping Ginny, and was now sitting with her arms crossed, with an air of haughtiness about her. Harry knew what was coming.
“You shouldn’t have gone,” she muttered.
Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, come on, Ginny!” said Hermione, raising her voice all of a sudden. “You can’t deny that it was a stupid thing to do!”
“Yeah, yeah,” mumbled Ginny.
“You were almost killed!” cried Hermione. “I dread to think what Ron and I would have seen if we’d arrived a minute later!”
Ginny had that look on her face which Harry recognised as the one that for any other person would have shown them on the verge of tears. She stood up, threw Hermione a fiery look and said, in a deadly, low voice: “You try having your home destroyed, Hermione, and then come back and tell me what I should and shouldn’t do,” and she left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Before long, the day of Harry’s birthday arrived. He woke up to an empty bedroom, turned over, and heard a crumpling noise. A small bit of parchment lay on his pillow, and he picked it up to read: Come down to the kitchen, written in Ginny’s hand. Harry dressed quickly and followed the instructions, feeling a little excited.
A banner with “Happy Birthday Harry!” was hung across the kitchen, and Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all say around the table. Ginny was talking animatedly and none of them appeared to have seen Harry.
“You’ll never guess what he said!” exclaimed Ginny, who seemed to be retelling an incredibly funny story.
“How about ‘Happy Birthday’?” interrupted Harry, stopping her mid-flow.
“Harry!” said Hermione happily, getting up. “Harry Birthday!”
She kissed him on the cheek as Ginny stood up and went over to him. Hermione moved aside and Ginny skipped forwards, kissing Harry so that he suddenly felt wide awake.
“Happy Birthday,” she whispered through his hair, as she hugged him.
Ron was dithering behind her, trying not to pay too much attention.
“You’ll be wanting to kiss me too, I suppose?” joked Harry, offering Ron his cheek.
“Do you want a present from me, or not?” asked Ron, now grinning.
“This is great!” said Harry, indicating the banner.
“You’ve got Hermione to thank for that,” said Ron, and Hermione seemed to glow.
Harry couldn’t stop smiling “ maybe it was because there was hardly anything to be happy about these days “ and he grabbed Ginny round the waist, making her squeal.
“Thanks,” he said to them, “this is just what I needed.”
“Hold your horses!” said Ron. “We haven’t given you any presents yet!”
He disappeared into the larder, reappearing a moment later, holding three, wrapped presents.
“Happy Birthday, Harry,” said Hermione, handing him a cube-shaped box covered in silver paper.
Harry thanked her and ripped off the wrapping hastily.
“Wow, Hermione!” he cried excitedly, for he was now clutching a box with ‘Snap-Happy’s Super-Snazzy Magical Camera’ printed on it.
“Cool!” said Ginny. “We’ve never had a camera, they’ve always been too expen“ “
“This is Harry’s present, Ginny,” said Ron patronisingly. “But you will let me have a go, won’t you, Harry?” Harry laughed and thanked Hermione again. “Now my present!” said Ron, moving it around in front of Harry’s face.
It turned out to be one of Fred and George’s ‘Patented Daydream Charms’, which Harry was partly surprised at getting from Ron, because of the wide variety of things that could happen with his little sister during that daydream.
“Last, but not least,” said Ginny, handing him a shoebox-sized parcel. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”
She kissed him on the cheek as he took it from her, and he noticed that there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Harry frowned and unwrapped the parcel. A note lay on top of what, when unwrapped, did appear to be a simple shoebox. The letter read:
I have asked around and managed to compile various memories of Lily and James. Everyone I asked was so willing to help, that I collected more than I ever thought I would.
May they always be with you in all that you do.
Yours forever,
x Ginny x
Harry found that he was sitting down. He read and reread the message several times before saying: “I… it’s… thank you,” to Ginny, and giving her a one-armed hug. He couldn’t stop staring at the plain cardboard box with the small piece of parchment resting on the lid; it was possibly the most thoughtful present he had ever received.
“You don’t have to open it now,” said Ginny. “Not while we’re all here.”
So, a little later, once he was alone in their bedroom, Harry lifted the lid of the shoebox and peered inside. An old photograph lay on top of a small pile of items; James and Lily, their foreheads touching, eyes alight with laughter and love, were gazing at each other happily. They looked to be in their early twenties.
Harry stared at the picture for ages, lost in another world. James would occasionally lift a hand to Lily’s hair, or kiss her gently “ undying love was evident… they thought that they would last forever…
Harry sniffed and looked back to the box in his lap; a letter, its parchment browning and tatty, was now uppermost on the pile. It was written in a beautifully simple and yet compelling hand, in purple ink:
James,
The summer so far has been unbearably boring. Wales was all right, but it rained until the roads flooded and the car sunk right into the muddy drive “ I suppose that’s what’s to be expected if you go to Wales for your summer holiday…
Petunia complained all week “ I got a shirty letter from the Ministry telling me that ‘if I performed one more Bat-Bogey Hex on my sister they’d break my wand in two.’ Oh well, she deserved it…
These few weeks have been hard, to say the least. You’d think that now we’ve left school, we could do what we wanted “ but my mum insisted upon one more family holiday before I left home completely. Now that I’m home, I just want to see you! But you’re in France… damn family holidays…
Dad’s calling “ apparently the dishes I charmed to wash themselves are filling the kitchen with bubbles “ I’d better go.
Yours forever,
x Lily x
Harry clutched at the parchment protectively. So this was a letter from his mother… to his father… She can have been no more than 18 when she wrote this. With shaking hands, he reached into the box, and took the next letter on the pile:
To my sweet-scented Lily,
Just got back from France. Now it’s just a question of what to do next. Auror training doesn’t start until September, and, until then, I have nothing to do. I suppose I should make the most of the free time that I have now before the gruelling challenges that I’m going to have to face over the next few years, i.e. spend as much time with you as possible.
That’s why I propose that you come to stay, at least for a week or two. Is tomorrow too soon? I don’t think that I can wait much longer. If that’s okay, I’ll come and pick you up at five in the afternoon. If it’s not, I’m coming anyway…
Owl me,
James
Harry’s heart was beating rapidly. It was so real, so … disturbing. There they were, with the prospect of two wonderful lives ahead of them, writing so lovingly, so devotedly, not knowing that they would have only a few precious years with each other before … Harry shuddered. It is often true that the best presents make you cry.
“Harry! Harry!”
He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Ginny’s voice shouting through the house, shortly followed by:
“Keep your voice down! There’s no need to shout!”
There was an ascending stomping sound, then Ginny’s long, red hair fell through the gap between door and doorframe.
“Harry, come downstairs, everyone’s “ “ She stopped abruptly when she saw his white-knuckled hands gripping the two letters, and her gift to him lying open on the bed. He did not meet her eyes, but continued to stare at the letters. She came in and shut the door behind her, going to sit by him on the bed. Taking his hand, she said: “I hope it’s not too hard for you.”
Harry shook his head, unable to speak. He held her hand more tightly.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs,” said Ginny softly.
She pulled him on silently, until they reached the kitchen.
“SURPRISE!”
A large gathering of people were crammed into the small room, all smiling jovially at Harry. A lump caught in his throat “ the feeling of complete yearning for his parents still brooding sadly in his heart, and now this…
A ringing silence seemed to echo around the stone walls, the faces watching Harry, frozen in their happy expressions. He stared at them, aware of his rigidity and lack of words.
“I “ “ he murmured, feeling a little stupid. “Thanks,” he managed to say.
This seemed to be enough for Mrs Weasley, who came forwards and embraced him tightly. “We thought we could all do with a bit of a party,” she said, smiling.
As Harry could never have said that he felt less like a party now than he ever had, he smiled back as convincingly as he could. He felt a gentle tug at his hand and followed Ginny out to the steps that led up to the rest of the house.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said, guiltily.
“Sorry?” he asked. “What for?”
“For giving you that stuff and bringing it all back from the past. You probably just want to forget it...”
The lump in Harry’s throat was still there, and, although it hurt, he was glad that it had a reason to be there.
“Forget it?” he asked. “If I’m hurting, it’s only because I miss them. It would be awful if they were gone and there was no one to remember them.”
Ginny nodded and hugged him, and Harry was suddenly aware of how much he loved her, and how little time they would have had left had they been Lily and James. Ginny pulled back and looked up at him.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Harry. She raised her eyebrows. “Yes! I do, I will “ always and ever.” He gazed at her, and had to say what had been prying on his mind since he had read those letters. “Tomorrow may never come...”
“Tomorrow will always come, whether in this world, or the next,” she replied, and she planted a kiss on his lips.
A shrill scream and the breaking of glass made them both start, and they hurried back to the kitchen. Everyone was huddled around the fireplace “ Harry stood on tiptoe to peer over their curious heads to see Lupin and Tonks sprawled awkwardly on the hearth. Tonks was clutching Lupin, who was covered in what appeared to be his own blood, seeping from a wound somewhere in his shoulder.
“Harry… Harry… “ he groaned, over the cries of alarm.
“Where is Potter?” said McGonagall sharply.
“Here, Professor,” croaked Harry, pushing his way through the crowd to the broken warriors.
“Harry?” slurred Lupin.
“Yes?” asked Harry, kneeling down beside the battered man.
Lupin reached into his robes, and, with what seemed like a tremendous amount of effort, held out his hand to Harry. Within, coiled in the centre of a blood-stained palm, lay a tarnished gold chain, with a dusty, green emerald hanging from it.
“Your… mother’s…” whispered Lupin, who then went limp in Tonks’ arms.
“He’s unconscious!” cried Tonks. “Help him!”
Several people rushed forwards and lifted Lupin off Tonks, who was helped up by Bill Weasley.
“What did he say, Harry?” asked Bill, but Harry could not find it in himself to respond.
It had been exactly the same. Not one difference between his mother’s necklace and the one that he had bought Ginny for Christmas last year, which she now wore religiously every hour of the day.
Harry turned away from Bill to Lupin, who was lying on the table being treated by various people. Harry opened Lupin’s fingers carefully and took the gold chain; he felt no guilt in doing so “ it was rightfully his now.
“What is it, Potter?” asked Professor McGonagall, some of the briskness gone from her voice, but Lupin, who had come to briefly, answered for him.
“Lily’s necklace…” he gasped. “She’s… in danger… and James…”
“But “ you’re not making any sense!” cried Harry. “They’re… they’re…”
They’re was a gasp near Harry’s ear, and Hermione whispered: “Professor! You don’t think “ Inferi?”
Harry felt frustrated that he had, once again, no idea what she was talking about, and even more so because, as usual, it seemed that everyone else did.
“It is possible, Miss Granger,” said McGonagall, sadly. “Lupin?”
Lupin opened his bloodshot eyes half an inch, and inclined his head slightly.
“Harry, come outside,” said Tonks. “We need to explain what’s happening.”
Thankful that somebody wanted to take the time to tell him what was going on, Harry followed her up the steps and into the drawing room, Bill bringing up the rear. They all sat down in dusty, badly-upholstered seats, Harry noticing that they two faces were sombre, and bracing himself for the bad news that he knew was coming.
“Do you know what Inferi are, Harry?” asked Tonks. Harry shook his head, afraid of what he was about to find out. “Well… Voldemort’s used them before, and now he’s trying again. He’s using dead bodies to do his work for him.”
Harry felt sick as the image of a corpse following Voldemort’s commands filled his mind; then the body’s blank face became his mother’s, and another his father’s, and he fought back his stomach’s desire to wretch…
“Lupin and I…” Tonks continued, apprehensively, “… we’ve just come from… from Godric’s Hollow. We found Death Eaters… in a graveyard…” Harry didn’t want her to go on, but couldn’t speak. “Lupin was enraged…” she whispered “…and he attacked without thinking that we were outnumbered three to one. He grabbed the necklace from one of them… must have been trying to steal it… but he was injured… we had to come back… I hope you understand…”
“Yes,” murmured Harry, without elaborating.
The door of the drawing room opened and in came Dumbledore.
“Albus, it’s Voldemort “ “ started Tonks, but he held his hand up to stop her.
“Thank you, Miss Tonks,” he said, calmly, “but we have managed to rejuvenate Remus sufficiently, and he has told us everything. I assume that you have told Harry?”
“Yes, Albus,” said Bill, and Tonks nodded.
“Good, good,” said Dumbledore. “And now, I would like a word with Harry, if you would be so kind.”
“Of course,” said Tonks, and she and Bill left the room, glancing at Harry as they went. Dumbledore waited for the door to shut behind them, before taking Bill’s vacated seat and facing Harry.
“We’ve just received news from several other places throughout the country, that Voldemort’s people are at work there, too,” he said, gravely. “Manchester, Hereford, London… and Surrey.” Harry swallowed. “This is it, Harry,” said Dumbledore, deeply.
Harry faltered.
“Er, sorry, Professor,” he said. “This is what?”
“This is the time when Dumbledore’s Army either rises or falls,” said Dumbledore, simply. “This is your chance to lead them into battle.”
A/N: A few lines are from the poem Reunion by my Grandma, Elizabeth Rumsey. I read them a long, long time ago, and they have been in my head for aaaaaages, and, when I wrote this story, I finally had a chance to use them! I shall have to ask her about the poem, because I have interpreted them in a certain way, and I would like to know what they really mean.
I have now about two sentences to write before I finish writing this story. It is quite sad! Three more chapters still to come! Please review. xxx