Disclaimer: The usual, none of the characters are mine; they were created by Ms. J.K. Rowling. The only thing I can claim to own in all this is my imagination.
Harry had barely shaken the ash from his rather unruly hair when he found himself enveloped in an enormous bear hug. Ever since Dumbledore's funeral, Mrs. Weasley had worried that Harry might do something rash and end up hurting himself. The knowledge that he was alive and in full possession of his limbs seemed to relieve her no end and resulted in her giving him a larger than usual hug and nearly throttling Harry.
"Harry, you're alright. But you still look thin. Don't those Muggles ever feed you?" she queried.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really I am", gasped Harry, trying to breathe.
She released him and he took aboard a large gulp of air. Mrs. Weasley went back to stirring what seemed to be a multitude of different pots. Harry spent a few minutes breathing deeply and looking around the warm kitchen. Warmth, however, did not convert to cleanliness and the kitchen looked liked a hurricane had hit it recently. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that that had been Hurricane Molly.
"Thanks for inviting me to the wedding", Harry said when he finally managed to get his vocal chords working.
"Nonsense, child, you're like our son and so Bill's like your brother. You wouldn't want to miss your brother's wedding, would you?" replied Mrs. Weasley without looking up.
Our son; Harry's heart gave a painful jerk at the phrase. He had never known family and the Weasleys were the closest he had come to understanding what a family was. He smiled at Mrs. Weasley and dropped the bag on the floor with a thump.
Just as the bag hit the floor, the door opened. Harry saw a blur of brown before he was staggering back under the force of the assault.
"Hermione, why do you always do that?” he said plaintively, "you knocked the wind out of me."
"Harry, it’s so good to see you again", said the bushy haired girl who had tackled him. Hermione Granger had been his best friend from their first year together and was also arguably the brightest witch to come out of Hogwarts. And it always amazed Harry that her greetings could be so Bohemian when she was quite reserved the rest of the year.
"Its good to see you too", he said, "When did you get here?"
"Yesterday; came by the Floo too", said Hermione, giggling. Harry smiled; his friends always knew what to say to cheer him up.
Behind her stood his other best friend and comrade-in-arms, Ron Weasley, grinning broadly.
“Alright there, Harry? After Mum’s tried strangling you and Hermione’s tried to knock you out, reckon you’re not too keen about being here after all, eh?”
Hermione scowled at him and Harry grinned “Wouldn’t have missed being here for the world, mate. You doing alright?”
Ron assumed an expression of gravity. “I tell you, the way Mum’s been making us work over the last few days, it’s like being a ruddy house-elf, it is.”
Harry sneaked a glance at Hermione who was looking like a thundercloud. She had made it her mission in their fourth year to promote a better living standard for house-elves in Hogwarts and though the passion had waned a good deal, nonetheless, it was obvious that she wasn’t going to let this pass. Harry was just wondering how he was going to warn Ron to shut his big mouth when he was spared the need for action. A wooden spoon flew gracefully through the air and rapped Ron smartly on the head.
“Ouch… Mum, I was just kidding. Honestly, if there’s a sense of humor left in this house then you’d need a secrecy sensor to find it,” he said, winking at Harry and failing to notice a second spoon following the first.
As Ron was muttering under his breath and rubbing his head rather vigorously, Harry noticed that there had been an addition to their merry little group, and it made him glad and uneasy at the same time. The newcomer was the only female, and the youngest, in the Weasley brood, Ginny. He thought back to all those years when she had seemed to be literally afraid of him and would disappear whenever they came face to face. But over the course of the last couple of years she had begun to come into her own and he had finally seen her as a girl rather than as Ron's sister. He had finally found someone he truly and deeply cared about and she had made him feel as if he was living another life. Then came Dumbledore's death and everything changed and that was what was making him uneasy. He had broken up with her, for her own good as he repeatedly told himself. He couldn't risk something happening to her; Voldemort seemed to take those closest to Harry's heart. He would have given anything for things to be different, to be with her again. But it was useless to hope, Voldemort had seen to that. He had to push her away for her own safety. Quelling an urge to rush across and take her in his arms, he smiled and said "Hi". Ginny, sensing that he didn’t want to talk about the events of the past year didn’t pursue matters. She too just smiled at him and left it at that. But conversation flagged after that, no one quite knowing what to say next. Ron, sensing the strained atmosphere, suddenly became very interested in the contents of the various pots bubbling on the fire.
A rather sharp “Hey!” caused Harry to look at Hermione. She was staring at the bag that he had brought with him. Harry steeled himself; knowing what she was going to say, or rather ask. He knew he had to tell the story right so that they didn't suspect anything.
"Why do you only have one bag, Harry, where's the rest of your stuff?" she asked, fixing him with a penetrating gaze. Harry could feel all three women looking at him now. Ron still had his head buried in one of the pots and was completely oblivious to what was going on.
"It’s at Privet Drive. I only brought what I needed for the wedding. After that, I'll get the rest of my stuff in time for school", Harry said airily. He saw Hermione start guiltily but Ginny and Mrs. Weasley seemed to accept his explanation. So, no one else knew of the plan to go looking for the Horcruxes instead of heading back to Hogwarts. That was all to the good because he was sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't approve and neither would the rest of the Order. He was confident that he was safe from any further questioning by Hermione, at least when others were present. She was sensible enough not to divulge any clues about the Horcruxes to the others. But she didn’t seem to believe his story either and Harry knew she would definitely try to accost him in private. He resolved to make sure he didn't end up in a room alone with her.
The Delacours arrived just before dinner and Harry was introduced to them. Fleur, he already knew and he’d also met her sister Gabrielle before. Her parents were also very nice people though tending to be rather jarring at times as Fleur was. As the Weasleys and the Delacours milled around talking nineteen to the dozen, the trio slowly slipped out into the yard. They settled themselves on the lawn and began to discuss what they were going to do about the Horcruxes. Or rather, Hermione began telling them what they had to do about the Horcruxes. She had spent the entire summer trying to find out all she could about them and was rather crestfallen that she had been unable to turn up anything on Horcruxes, or for that matter, on the mysterious R.A.B. However, she seemed to have spent a great deal of time devising a plan of action and she outlined it to Ron and Harry. Ron amused himself by pointing out some of the flaws in her plans and pretty soon she was starting to lose it. Harry wasn’t really listening to either of them. His attention was taken up by the contemplation of how they’d react to his leaving them behind and going off alone.
“Harry, are you listening to me?” Hermione snapped suddenly, making him jump.
“Huh… oh, sure, I was listening,” he said quickly, not wanting her to repeat the whole thing again.
“Then would you please explain it to Ron who seems to be having trouble grasping it?”
“Hey, I only asked how we’re going to destroy the Horcruxes if we find them. It’s not like they’re going to have instructions printed on the side,” said Ron, defensively.
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Honestly Ron, sometimes I think…”
But they weren’t destined to know what she thought, for at that moment Mrs. Weasley came up behind them and herded them back inside, berating them all the while for holding up dinner.
Dinner, as was usual at the Burrow, was wonderful. Talk flowed freely around the table with the women discussing various aspects of the upcoming wedding. The men spoke of the goings-on in the wizarding world. Harry was mentioned rather often in this regard and soon he was beginning to get a bit fed with all the attention. He looked around the table to avoid being drawn into the conversation. He noticed that Percy, Bill, Fred and George were the only ones missing. Percy he discounted immediately and the twins were due the next morning while Bill had already gone to bed.
Bill was yet another example of how innocent people got hurt because of one wizard’s greed for power. Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf who was part of Voldemort’s army, had seriously wounded Bill during the fight at Hogwarts. Luckily, while Bill was being treated at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, the healers had informed the Weasleys that Bill hadn’t been infected, as Greyback had not completely changed into a werewolf when he had attacked Bill. But the encounter had left Bill badly scarred and many had believed then that the wedding was off. That was the time that Fleur had revealed a side of hers that none had suspected, an ability to truly love someone. She had spent every moment at Bill’s bedside and had repeatedly informed everyone of her intention of marrying him, even if she had to lead Bill to the ceremony on a leash. Many of the healers at St. Mungo’s had felt that that above all else had hastened Bill’s recovery. Harry fervently wished that one day; he too would experience a love so true, a love that transcended appearances.
At half past eleven, Mr. Weasley ordered everyone to go to bed and as Harry headed upstairs to Ron’s room where he was to sleep, he noticed Mr. Weasley trying to coax his wife to slow down. Mollywobbles was a commonly recurring theme in this entreaty and Harry hurried on, desperately trying not to laugh. Back in the room, he quickly changed but he was too excited to sleep. Fifteen minutes, he counted down, fifteen minutes and he would be seventeen and of age; for in the magical world wizards come of age at seventeen. Five minutes to go… and suddenly, Ron, who had been sitting next to Harry on the bed, smacked his forehead.
“I’ve got to talk to Dad about the Apparition test, Harry; be back in two ticks,” he said and rushed out.
Harry sat staring after him; it seemed a strange time to want to talk about apparition tests. Oh well, he shrugged and went back to counting down to the hour. One minute now, and Harry followed the second hand as it began its slow revolution before announcing that a new day had begun, a new year for Harry. Just as the hand ticked over to midnight, Harry heard someone running towards the room. He turned as Hermione burst through the door, looking terrified.
"Harry, you have to come, something's happened", she gasped.
A nameless fear gripped Harry. What had happened, how had danger come to the Burrow without anyone knowing?
"What's wrong? Is someone hurt, is it… is it Ginny?" he asked dreading the answer, but Hermione turned and ran downstairs. Harry tore after her, the blood pounding in his ears, hating himself for ever letting Ginny get so close to him. If something had happened to her... the thought remained incomplete in his mind as he saw Hermione run into the kitchen. He drew his wand out as he pushed the door to the kitchen open.
“SURPRISE!” shouted a chorus of voices. Harry stopped in shock. The whole Weasley family was there, even Bill and the twins, along with Fleur and her family and Hermione. Nothing was wrong; they were all safe.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they all yodelled and Mrs. Weasley brought out an enormous cake with seventeen candles on it. Harry had a fleeting thought that the cake seemed rather similar to the "wedding cake" which he had been shown earlier.
Mr. Weasley stepped forward. "The coming of age of a wizard is an important event, Harry. We wanted to make it special for you", he said. Harry stood there silent, partly because he was struck dumb by the gesture and more so because the going had been rather strong and he was out of breath. Presently he was able to cease breathing like an asthmatic and smile broadly.
"You really shouldn't have...” he began.
"Nonsense, Harry. You deserve it,” replied Mrs. Weasley kindly, setting down the cake and beginning to slice it. "Now sit down and have some cake and open your presents."
The twins' claimed the right to have their present opened first. They had come early just for Harry's party and Harry couldn’t help feeling that that was present enough. They solemnly handed him a small gift-wrapped box. Harry took it gingerly; knowing Fred and George, it was likely to be something that might bite him, punch him, explode in his face, or otherwise maim him in any of the other myriad ways. He removed the wrapping and opened the box, keeping it at an arm’s length. Sure enough, there was a mini explosion and a piece of paper floated out in a puff of yellow smoke. Harry grabbed the paper, it was a gift certificate for a hundred galleons at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop that the twins ran in Diagon Alley, and it was made out to “Our financier, Harry Potter”. Harry thanked them but he couldn’t help wondering if he would ever use it, if he would even live to use it.
"It was either that or a year's supply of U-NO-POO, but we went with the certificate in the end", said Fred grinning.
Harry laughed in spite of his morbid thoughts. "Thanks a bunch, guys", he said.
While Harry was putting the certificate away, Mr. Weasley came up to him with a large parcel in his hands.
“We thought we'd all chip in for this, Harry, so it’s from all of us", he said. Harry could tell what it was from the shape of the package. But when he opened it, he let out a gasp. It was a Firebolt XL, the latest model in brooms.
"We know how much you love Quidditch, so you should have a good broom to play", said Mrs. Weasley smiling.
Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione, who were staring determinedly at the ceiling and the floor, and with good reason. Harry hadn't played Quidditch since the game against Slytherin the previous year, when he’d been hit on the head by a bludger and had ended up with a cracked skull. And he wasn't likely to play this year for the very good reason that he wasn't going back to Hogwarts. But then, a plan began to form in his mind. Yes, he could use the broom after all; why hadn't he thought of it before. A broom would serve his purpose perfectly. But still, a Firebolt XL?
"But you couldn't..." he started and then bit his lip. The last thing he needed was to remind them that they couldn't afford it.
"Thanks Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley. This is a really great present", he said, making a mental note to somehow give the money for the broom back from his large savings, in Gringotts Bank, left to him by his parents.
He opened Hermione's present last. When he finally got through the layers of wrapping, he smiled. It was a typical coming of age gift...in the muggle world. She had got him a watch and chain.
"Thanks a lot, Hermione, I'm sure I'm going to need this", he grinned.
"Why don’t you open it instead of dazzling us with your sarcasm" she retorted.
Harry lifted the cover of the watch and realized immediately that he had underestimated Hermione, a mistake he usually no longer made. Instead of the usual numbers on the dial, it had the words "Safe", "Danger", "Trap" and "Mortal Peril" on it. The single hand that moved on the watch had Harry's picture, rather like the clock that hung in the hall of the Burrow. All this registered in a moment, what was holding his attention was a photo on the inside of the watch cover, a magical photograph of his parents holding him when he was a baby. He felt the tears well up in his eyes and fought them back. He stared at the photograph for what seemed like an eternity then slowly looked up. The room had fallen silent and everyone was looking at him, attempting to gauge his reaction. Harry managed a watery smile.
"Thanks, Hermione. You don't know what this means to me," he managed, with a slight quaver in his voice.
"Yes, I do," she replied quietly.
A rather uncomfortable silence ensued; nobody seemed willing to speak first. Harry realized that it was up to him to get the party back on track. Either that or risk looking like a group of Trappist monks.
"Well, are we having cake or not?" he said suddenly. That broke the spell and soon the whole kitchen was full of talk, laughter and flying cake, courtesy the twins of course.
Harry looked at the families in front of him and at his presents and he listened to their animated conversations. He sighed and looked out of the window. Not for the first time, he wished that he didn't have to leave this cozy atmosphere. But he would have to. It was the only way.
A/N: Thanks to those who read and reviewed my first chapter. I hope you liked it. Here’s the second installment. Please do review and let me know how you’ve liked the story so far and any ideas that you may have.
Chow for now.
Scarhead Steve.