THE SEARCH FOR LIFE AND DEATH

Chapter XX

The Unexpected Party

Hermione and Ron were acting... strange. Ron had finally metabilized the last of the pain potion he had been given that had been making him drowsy and was back to himself. Madam Pomfrey had checked him out that morning and determined that, unless he started to suffer intense pain, he wouldn't need to take a similar potion. His arms, however, had been dipped again in a viscous blue potion and rewrapped with bandages that were hardened to the likeness of casts. Madam Pomfrey had even fashioned him a double-sling, so that his bandaged arms were tucked against his chest and thus less likely to be smacked against things as he moved around. He could still move his fingers a little, but they didn't allow the normal dexterity that Ron exhibited, making him clumsy when he attempted to maneuver something like a quill. He still managed to play chess without a problem, though, easily picking up bits of crumbled stone that were once chess pieces under Harry's command and moving them to the side.

Harry supposed Madam Pomfrey hadn't any illusions that Ron would keep his arms in the slings, but despite her pursed lips and obvious disagreement with his desire to be out of the hospital wing, she had left him leave through the door again. The four of them - Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny - were not confined to Gryffindor Tower, but free to roam around the castle as they pleased, so long as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. The previous day had them eating a picnic lunch out by the lake, where a still-drowsy Ron had dozed off as the others played Exploding Snap.

Dinner the previous night had been interesting, since Ron didn't have the power to hold utensils and make the food reach his mouth. He had outright refused Ginny's teasing offer to spoonfeed him, but Professor McGonagall had solved the issue.

She had come over to the table where they sat together holding a handful of golden utensils - four sets, one for each of them. She had tapped one of each utensil and then one of their heads with her wand. Then, with a small, amused smile, she had given them each a set and left without explanation, returning to the staff table where she and the rest of the heads of houses were eating.

The four of them had pondered over the utensils for some time until Ron, starving and with food taunting him from the plate, had thought about how lovely it would be to scoop up a bit of mashed potatoes. And then the golden spoon he had been given did just that.

It hadn't taken long for Hermione to figure out that the utensils they had been given were keyed to respond to their thoughts. This started well, with them finding out exactly how to think to control the utensils, which took some doing but ended up not being too difficult. It devolved, however, quite rapidly, into a "swordfight" between Harry and Ginny, which she had started by stealing bits of Harry's treacle fudge from his plate. It ended when Ron flung mashed potatoes at the both of them and the utensils were taken away by Professor McGonagall, before a full-fledged food fight could break out.

The four of them had left the Great Hall, still grinning at each other, not noticing Professor McGonagall's smile or Snape's rolling eyes at her amused expression. They had spent the remainder of the day hanging out in the Common Room, playing Exploding Snap and Chess, or just reading. Ginny, who had never spent much time with them before, seemed to have found herself an empty place in their group that Harry hadn't realized was there before. He suspected if she left, he would notice the space all the more, so he was hoping she would continue to hang out with them even once the school year started. She was a lot of fun, he was beginning to realize, and after his initial complaints, Ron really didn't seem to mind her presence. Harry wondered if Hermione appreciated having another girl around.

But today, Harry was beginning to notice the strange things that had been happening ever since he returned to Hogwarts. Hermione and Ron were speaking together in voices too low, themselves too far away, for his journal to pick up on them. He would catch sight of them out of the corner of his eye while Ginny was talking to him, distracting him. Or he would see them share a look here and there, or pass a roll of parchment between the two of them that was quickly hidden before he could see. He might have thought they were keeping this secret from Ginny, as well, but he had seen she and Hermione speaking together quietly. He hadn't put it together before today, but it was suddenly glaringly obvious that they were keeping something from him, and that hurt a lot. He was dealing with his inability to hear as best he could, but with them purposefully going out of their way to keep him from finding out what they were talking about…

He didn't know what to do. He could confront them about it, but if they lied to his face, that would be somehow worse than him catching them being sneaky. He didn't think he could handle it if they lied right to him. The three of them had been so close ever since the troll incident in first year, barring a few issues throughout the years. Was it what had happened to him? Was that tearing them apart?

If they didn't want to be friends with him anymore, why didn't they just say so?

Harry was sitting on a couch in the Common Room, thinking about this, when Ginny bounded in. She had a book in her hand and a grin on her face, and he briefly looked up to acknowledge her presence and then returned to staring at his open journal.

Ron and Hermione were in the far corner, quietly discussing whatever it was they didn't want him to know. They had been over there since they had returned from the Hospital Wing, and Harry had sat down and gave himself the appearance of reading his journal, but mostly he was just thinking about how hopeless this all seemed.

They were supposed to go down to Hagrid's for lunch, having not seen the half-giant since coming to Hogwarts, but Harry was starting to feel like he didn't really want to go anywhere. In fact, crawling back into bed sounded like a really great idea. He hadn't been feeling very well the past couple of days. He wasn't sure what was wrong. It wasn't always noticeable to him, especially when he was distracted by something else, but in the moments when he was alone or it was quiet, or especially at night, his stomach would start to ache and he would feel almost nervous. He didn't know what it was. He didn't want to go to Madam Pomfrey for something as ridiculous as an aching stomach he only had half the time, but he did wish it would go away.

Closing his journal, Harry decided lying down for a while sounded like a good idea, and he retreated up to the dormitory. Crawling into bed, Harry glanced at the door. He had closed it behind him and it remained closed. For a brief moment, he thought maybe Ron or Hermione would follow him up, or even Ginny, but no. No one was coming. Whatever they were discussing, they were happy to do it without him.

Harry closed his eyes and buried his face against the pillow. He wasn't sure when he started to cry, but once it began, there was no stopping it, and he sobbed soundlessly into his pillow, wishing he was back with Remus and Sirius. Somewhere where he was wanted.

Ron glanced up at movement from the corner of his eye and caught sight of Harry entering their dorm. Last time he had looked, Harry had been sitting on the couch, reading his journal. Ron knew he couldn't read what he and Hermione were talking about because she had put up a silencing charm she discovered worked against Harry's journal, but he had suspected Harry was just reading over a conversation he'd had with Sirius and Remus. Or maybe one he'd had with Ginny. Harry seemed happy to have her here.

He glanced back at the couch where Harry had been sitting to see Ginny sitting in a chair opposite said couch. She had a book open in her lap but her eyes were on the staircase Harry had just walked up. As he watched, she turned and looked at him, saw him looking, and stood up.

Hermione canceled the silencing charm.

"I think we may need to alter our plans," Ginny said.

"Does Harry suspect something?" Hermione asked. She didn't sound worried. They had been really careful.

Ginny shook her head. "No, and that's the problem, I think. He doesn't suspect a thing."

Ron opened his mouth to ask what she meant and then groaned.

"Yeah," Ginny said. "It's not like there are classes and Quidditch to distract him from the fact that you two have been off talking secretly."

"Oh," Hermione said, sounding as though she had been chastised. "I… didn't think about that."

"Not the greatest of friends, are we?" Ron asked, catching sight of something over by the couch and walking over to it. He picked up Harry's journal, which had been left on an end table. "Maybe we could move things ahead? When it everyone supposed to get here?"

Hermione checked the clock. "In about an hour. It's too late to tell them to come now. I suppose we could head down to Hagrid's early."

"Yeah," Ron said. That sounded like the best plan. He turned to his sister. "Gin, can you run down to Hagrid's and tell them we're going to bring Harry down early?"

She looked like she might mutiny, not liking them sending her off when Harry was clearly hurting, but then she nodded. Those two had been friends with Harry for longer than she had.

"Yeah. I'll help them get anything together they don't have, yet." She left through the portrait hole, thinking a stop at the kitchens first might be in order. There was a certain house elf in residence who liked to go on about how great Harry was. Dobby would surely be a great help.

With Ginny gone, Ron turned to Hermione briefly, before the two of them went up the stairs to the fifth year boys' dormitory. Ron grimaced as he opened the door, the sound of Harry crying reaching him easily. It was especially painful because Harry didn't often cry. Perhaps the only time they had seen him do so was after discovering the information that Sirius had betrayed his parents to Voldemort. Even then, the tears had given way to anger. This… this was just sorrow.

"Maybe we shouldn't have been so sneaky," Hermione whispered sadly.

Ron didn't answer, moving quietly over to the bed, Hermione behind him. Ron knelt down and put his bandaged hand on Harry's shoulder, and the boy jumped, nearly knocking them both to the floor.

"Easy, mate," Ron said, uselessly. Harry's glasses were on the nightstand and his journal was in Ron's pocket. Hermione reached over Ron and grabbed Harry's glasses, unfolding them and placing them gently on Harry's face. She swallowed the lump in her throat as he pulled away from her hands, fixing his glasses and wiping the tears from his ears with the long sleeves of his shirt.

Ron handed Harry his journal, but the boy didn't open it. Instead he stared at the both of them, and unsure, almost distrustful look on his face.

Ron and Hermione shared a look, then turned their attention back to Harry. He had a disgusted look on his face. Ron didn't know if it was aimed at them for their shared look, or aimed at himself.

Opening the journal, Ron pushed it under Harry's nose so he was forced to grab it. Before he could say anything, Hermione spoke.

"Harry, I'm sorry we've been neglecting you. We didn't think about how it would look to you. We were just trying to… we were…" She faltered.

"We have a surprise for you," Ron said. "We were trying to keep you from figuring out what it was. We just realized today that we were sort of being bad friends, keeping you in the dark and not telling you anything. I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry. You're just… not easy to keep a secret from." He poked the pages of the journal where his words were appearing in his own shoddy handwriting. "And this thing picks up on everything. It's hard to get away from."

Harry cracked a grin at that and Ron sighed in relief.

"We weren't supposed to show you the surprise for another hour, but I think we can head down early, if that's okay with you?"

Harry frowned, then mouthed "Hagrid?"

"Yeah, it's at Hagrid's. He helped us plan the whole thing. Professor McGonagall, too." He stood up and Harry climbed out of the bed after him. When he was standing in front of Ron, the redhead surprised him by hugging him.

Startled, it took Harry a moment before he brought his arms up and hugged his friend back. After a moment, they pulled away.

"You're my best friend, Harry," Ron said, knowing Harry could read his lips. "You know that, right?"

Harry smiled and nodded, mouthing "Mine too."

He glanced at Hermione, who had tears in her eyes. With a squeal, she hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear "I love you, Harry," even though he couldn't hear it. When she pulled away, she had to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked him. Harry nodded softly as he fixed his tangled robes.

"We didn't mean to upset you," Hermione said.

Harry nodded. He understood.

Hermione frowned. "Was there… something else?" Harry flicked his eyes up to her and away, shrugging. "Harry," she said, "you can talk to us if you need to. You do know that, right?"

He nodded, opened his mouth, closed it again, and hesitantly fished his quill from his pocket. The feather was ratty from being in his pocket while he was lying down, but it still worked well. He wrote in his journal "I haven't been feeling well."

"Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head. "Just a stomach ache. I don't notice it all the time."

"When does it bother you?"

Harry shrugged.

Hermione had a calculating look on her face, the sort of expression she usually gained when she was mentally sorting through the library's catalog and picking out what books would be best borrowed to solve their current mystery. Ron didn't really think this particular mystery required a trip to the library. He suspected Hermione was aware of that.

"Have you been able to talk to Remus and Sirius?" he asked before Hermione could say anything. He caught her looking at him and returned her gaze. She did understand.

"Remus sent me a letter. He's on a mission for Dumbledore and won't be able to talk for a while. I can owl Sirius, but he's in hiding."

Ron licked his lips. He glanced at Hermione again briefly, then said, "Harry. You do know it's normal to be homesick when you come to school, right?"

Harry frowned at them. "I've never been homesick."

"Well, you've never had a home before, really," Hermione said softly, thinking of the Dursleys. She remembered that first time they left Hogwarts, when Harry had said he wasn't really going home, not really. Hogwarts had always been home. "Now you have Sirius and Remus."

Harry was staring at her and she smiled at him. "You miss your family, Harry. It's perfectly normal. I miss mine, too."

Harry glanced at his journal, then at Ron, who flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, I… of course I miss my family. I even missed Ginny in my first year. We'd always been together when everyone else went off to Hogwarts." He shrugged, looking away. "Like Hermione said, it's normal."

"Ron, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Yeah, well, you don't have Fred and George for brothers."

Harry grinned as Hermione seemed to realize this was a good point. She looked back at Harry. "Let's get ready and go down to Hagrid's. Ginny's already gone down." She hugged Harry again. "You might want to go wash your face."

Harry rubbed at his eyes and nodded, leaving to go to the bathroom. Hermione decided to run down to the girls' and wash her own face, since she had been unable to keep from crying. Ron made his way down the Common Room to wait for them, and a moment later, they headed off to Hagrid's together.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, staring out across the grounds as the Golden Trio made their way down to Hagrid's shack. He tried to sneer at the thought of the half giant but couldn't bring himself to put forth the effort. He remembered all of his father's words against the groundskeeper and sneering at the man just seemed like a way of keeping his father's shadow looming over him. It was hard, though. He wished he could escape the feeling of those silver eyes on his back all the time.

"I hope you have a plan in the case that you topple off that perch," a soft voice spoke behind him.

Draco didn't move from where his head was leaning gently against the stone wall, legs dangling out over the turrets. "Scream, I suppose," he said casually. How high were the towers? High enough that there would be no surviving the fall, of course. He was surprised his godfather had let him come up here. Verus seemed to be watching him closely, perhaps worried Draco might try to off himself. The final finger to Lucius Malfoy.

"Surely you have a means of saving yourself, should you fall?"

Draco shrugged, watching as the three Gryffindors trotted across the grounds, side-by-side. He thought of Crabbe and Goyle, always following him around, flanking him like Granger and Weasley did to Potter. Crabbe and Goyle never treated him the way that Granger and Weasley treated Potter, though. They were servants. Bodyguards. Not friends.

"I suppose I could do what Potter did last year," he said, speaking absently. "At the tournament. He summoned his broomstick to him." The fight with the dragon. That had been, Draco could admit, impressive. He'd seen Potter fly before, of course. They were opponents on the Quidditch pitch. It was one thing to dodge Bludgers and dive after Snitches, however, and another thing entirely to dodge a dragon and dive after her eggs.

"That would be an impressive feat, summoning and mounting a broomstick in midair. As impressive as it would be, however, I hope you don't intend to try it anytime soon." A hand settled on his shoulder, an offer at comfort. Draco didn't shrug it away.

"And if you dropped your wand?"

"Screaming is still an option." I suppose Potter might save me. He's saved everyone else who's been in trouble, he thought, and laughed internally. Potter wouldn't save him. Not a Malfoy. Well, no. Not Draco. He wasn't a Malfoy anymore. His father had legally filed papers to reject him from the family. Draco was an orphan now, cast out from his family. He didn't have a last name anymore.

He watched as the three Gryffindors stood outside of Hagrid's shack for a moment before being invited inside. He had seen another Weasley, the girl, not long ago come out by herself and enter.

"What's going on down there?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"They're having a birthday party for Mister Potter," Elena said, lifting her hand from his shoulder and startling him by running it through his hair. "I guess they've been planning it for a few days."

"Oh."

Potter' s birthday was July 31st, he knew. Everyone knew that. It was in most history books, listed on a number of calendars. He thought about Harry's friends throwing him a birthday party and felt a sudden, intense upsurge of jealousy. He bet none of them even knew what month he was born in.

"You could go down and join them," Elena suggested softly, still playing with his hair. It was getting longer.

Draco shook his head violently, pulling his legs up and dropping back to the floor of the tower. He headed toward the door. "No, they wouldn't want me there," he said bitterly. "I'm going back to my room."

He left the tower before she could say anything else to him, making his way back to the Slytherin dungeons at a quick walk.

The following day was the first of September and the rest of the students would return to the school. This was the last day Draco would have the Slytherin dungeons all to himself. He better enjoy the peace while it lasted.

He made his way through the halls, down to the dungeons and toward the wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. "Boomslang," he said, causing the door to open and let him into the Common Room, where he flopped gracelessly onto the couch and closed his eyes.

He wasn't looking forward to the other Slytherins returning. Draco was aware that he had used his father's status to raise his own at the school. It had been a conscious act and it had gotten him pretty high up the ladder of the Slytherin social hierarchy, but it hadn't made him friends. Sure, he had Crabbe and Goyle, but they weren't friends. And there was Pansy, but since his father had disowned him, she was probably out, which he wasn't really saddened by. He knew his parents had been trying to work with the Parkinson family to get the two of them engaged, but he wouldn't be disappointed to see Pansy leave him. She wasn't the kind of person that Draco was really interested in. He didn't really have anyone in mind, but if he was engaged to be married, he hoped it would be with someone who had a brain cell or two of their own.

Not that he would have to worry about that. No one was going to want to marry him now that he didn't have a name to give them.

He didn't know how bad it was going to be once the other Slytherins came back. He wasn't the only orphan in Slytherin House, but as far as he knew, he was the only one who had been disowned. And after everything that he had used his father's position to attain… things could get bad. Granted, Severus would do what he could to make it less painful, but he needed to stay on the good side of the Slytherins. Draco knew that, even if he didn't know entirely why.

He put his arm over his eyes to shield the light from his eyelids and sighed. He would have to work with whatever he was given, but he didn't think it would be easy. He wasn't sure what was going to happen with Crabbe and Goyle, if they would stay at his side or move on to someone else.

He was still thinking about how he was going to approach the rest of Slytherin House as Draco instead of Malfoy when he fell asleep.

He opened his eyes in the White World and swore loudly.

"I forgot!" he yelled, running both hands through his hair and sending it in every direction. "Fuck!"

He had spent all day worrying about the Slytherins coming back and thinking about his father and how everything was changing, but he had never once thought about the artifact or this white world or their search. He hadn't thought of it once.

We forgot, he mumbled. All of them must have. Granger had said about them getting together and talking, all of them, about the artifacts outside of the dream. If she had remembered saying that, he didn't think she would have refrained from coming and finding him. Especially as hell-bent on research as rumors said she said. Meaning, they had probably all forgotten everything as soon as they woke up.

Draco groaned and sat down, putting his head in his hands. The call had already begun again, the moment he had arrived here. That sound of silence that burned in his mind like noise.

He really was on his own, would be no help outside of the Realm. After everything that he had done, the Gryffindors wouldn't talk to him even if he could remember to approach them. He would just have to find Afa and hope he didn't need help along the way.

He stood up, thinking. He did, of course, have a little bit of help. The disguise they could each make for themselves, the one that let them come up with a second identity. He still hadn't decided what he wanted to do.

Draco held his hand in front of his face and imagined crimson leather wrapped his arm from shoulder to wrist. He watched in fascination as leather coated the arm, stopping just at his wrist, turning the crimson of lifeblood.

He thought again and it faded away.

This, at least, would be useful. Draco turned his attention to the call and began to walk toward Afa, thinking about the kind of person he would want to be if he didn't have to be Draco.

"Surprise!" Ginny raced over and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. She pulled away from his, practically bouncing in excitement. "Harry birthday, Harry!"

Harry grinned back at her, looking around. The small one room house had a few balloons that were floating around, shaped like various animals. As he watched, they changed shape every so often and would race around for a moment in this new form, before returning to floating aimlessly. Some streamers hung from the ceiling, and there was a great banner against the far wall that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY in gold and scarlet letters.

Ron gripped his shoulder and gave him a shaking side-hug. "Surprised?" he asked, grinning, and Harry nodded. "Come on out back. That's where everyone's supposed to be."

The four of them made their way outside and around the back of the building, where the decorations had been thrown up without abandon. Streamers and balloons and little twinkling lights and glitter were tossed every which way and, in some cases, simply hanging in midair. The whole back garden practically glowed with birthday wishes and Harry gaped at it.

"I had a little help from Dobby," Ginny admitted, and Ron let out a great guffaw of laughter, while Hermione looked like she couldn't decide whether to protest or roll her eyes at the obviously Dobby-decorated scene.

Professor McGonagall was there, as well as Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore and, of course, Hagrid. The half-giant spotted him right away and came over, his face set in a large grin.

"Happy birthday, 'Arry," he said, and Harry hugged him tight. Hagrid returned the hug. "'ard t' believe you're already fifteen!" he said.

Professor McGonagall came over then, giving Hagrid a moment to not-so-discreetly blow his nose into a handkerchief. She smiled at Harry and said softly, "We have a few other people who should be here in a few minutes." She reached out and briefly touched a hand to Harry's hair. "Happy belated birthday, Mister Potter. I believe you've already received my gift."

Harry grinned at her and nodded, thinking of the golden Snitch he had been given when he first arrived back to Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Well, you have a few others you will need to open, and then the house elves have a lovely lunch prepared for us." She leaned down close to him and whispered, "I brought those utensils with me so you and Miss Weasley can continue your sword fight."

Harry read the words in his journal and grinned widely, before showing them to Ginny, who giggled.

A few minutes later, there was a flash as a Portkey discharged, depositing a group of people on the ground a few feet from the garden.

"Bill!" Ginny cried, dashing over to hug her brother.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come, along with Bill, Charlie, Fred and George. They had brought with them Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, who hurried over to wish Harry happy birthday. Harry, who had never met Bill, was introduced to him and Charlie by their mother. Ron and Ginny, who hadn't known that their eldest brothers were coming, were happily chatting with them about how things were going at their respective jobs. Harry watched the conversation in his journal and occasionally broke in with his own questions, written quickly in his journal. He had never had a chance before to speak with Charlie for any length of time and was fascinated with the idea of working with dragons, even if he wasn't sure it was a job he himself would enjoy.

"Harry still has the miniature Hungarian Horntail he got in the first task," Ron said to Charlie, who looked at Harry, impressed.

"Does it still function?"

Frowning in disappointment, Harry shook his head. "It stopped moving that night, but I still have it in my trunk."

Charlie nodded. "The charm connected the miniatures with the actual dragons in the tournament. Close proximity is required for that charm to activate and we had to leave to return the dragons to the preserve later that day, but the miniatures should still be connected to their dragon counterparts. Morana had to give up one of her scales to made the miniature."

"Morana? Is that the Horntail?" Hermione asked.

Charlie nodded. "The Horntail is Morana. The Common Welsh Green is named Shiri. The Swedish Short-Snout is Gormlaith." He grinned. "And the Chinese Fireball is Gryffindora."

Hermione gaped at him while Ron and Ginny laughed. The two of them had clearly known this already but still found it funny.

"Do all of the dragons have names?"

"Yeah. The older dragons were often named by people who have since left the reserve, but if a dragon is born to one of those in our care, we get to name it." He chuckled. "I named Gryffindora and Shiri. My drakemaster, Tawney, named Gormlaith. Morana was named by Adrian, who retired a couple years after she was born." He grimaced, suggesting that the retirement hadn't been either pleasant or entirely Adrian's choice.

"It's too bad ye couldn't keep 'em 'ere a bit longer," Hagrid said, looking disappointed. "Tha' Common Welsh Green had a good temperament. Coulda used 'er in a lesson, introduced the students t' dragons."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look, thinking of Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback who Hagrid had introduced them to in their first year.

"Shiri would have been the best choice," Charlie agreed, "but we had to get them away as soon as possible. That's why I had to leave right away."

Hermione was frowning. "I don't understand. I know you needed to get them back to the preserve, but you must have had them well contained."

Charlie shook his head. "Before the task, yeah, we didn't have any problems. We were able to keep up a shield that kept the dragons from moving beyond it, even if they managed to escape their bonds. Once they were defeated in the task, though, we had to get them away from the champions." He noticed Hermione's still-confused look. "You see, in dragon culture, if a human succeeds in a task against a dragon, it's considered a form of slaying. Only because the dragon is still alive, the slaying hasn't been finished and there is a battle yet ongoing between the dragon and the human who bested it. Because of that, the shields wouldn't have held the dragons back and they were extremely aggravated and becoming increasingly violent in their attempts to escape and go after the champions." He grimaced, rubbing his upper arm, which was covered by the sleeve of his dragonhide coat. "Morana was a particular problem, so we had to get them away as quickly as possible. Technically, the battle is still ongoing with…" He cleared his throat. "Well, the distance helps calm the agitation."

Harry stared at the ground. Charlie had started to say something but had stopped. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. The battle was still ongoing with three of the dragons, but it would have stopped for the fourth, since Cedric was dead. His dragon won that round.

Someone bumped his shoulder and he looked up to see Ron giving him a concerned look. Harry tried a smile for him but it came out half-hearted, he knew. Ron looked like he wasn't sure what to do, and Harry just opened his journal and looked at what was going on. Hermione and Charlie had continued speaking, her curiosity peaked over his mentioning dragon culture.

Charlie went on to explain that, millennia ago, dragons had been able to speak just like humans and were extremely powerful creatures, ruling the skies with none who could best them. There were some who fell to humans, true, but there were so many dragons and they were so powerful that many ruled the humans like kings and gods, receiving sacrifices and bribes for protection and safety.

"Then, one day, that simply stopped. No one knows what happened or why. There are no records to explain it. Dragons just stopped talking, and they lost their place as gods and kings. Humans took over and dragons became just another magical creature they had command over."

Hermione looked absolutely fascinated with the mystery and Ron, who apparently knew a bit more about dragons than Harry had realized, was grinning at her. Before he could say anything, however, Dumbledore came over to them.

"I apologize for interrupting such an interesting conversation," he said, "but Harry does have some gifts to open and there is a cake that will need eating."

Harry glanced at the headmaster. He was peering down at him, blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles, and Harry smiled and nodded. With a smile of his own, Dumbledore turned and wandered back over to where the other teachers were standing, discussing something with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Bill.

"I can give you a few recommendations for books on the subject if you're interested," Charlie said, moving over toward his parents and the professors.

"Oh, could you?" Hermione asked. "That would be wonderful!"

Harry and Ron shared a look behind the two of them while Ginny giggled. Beside them, Neville smiled quietly. Everyone in Gryffindor knew about Hermione's proclivity for research. Luna, who had disappeared around the same time as Fred and George, followed them over toward the adults, quietly commenting "Wouldn't it be more accurate to just ask a dragon?"

Any response to her question was interrupted by the reappearance of Fred and George, who immediately started ribbing Ron about Hermione picking up on one of his favorite topics, and how if he spent hours and hours in the library, at least he wouldn't be as bored.

"You're interested in dragons?" Hermione asked, somewhat startled.

Ron jerked a thumb at Charlie. "I grew up with him. How couldn't I be?"

"Ah, presents!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together as the group of them reached the adults. "There is quite a load for you to sort through, Harry, but I think, perhaps, you should open the gifts from your professors first. I imagine your friends might exchange gifts with you later, in private." His eyes flicked briefly to Fred and George, who attempted to look innocent. Their mother looked at them suspiciously.

Harry, who hadn't been expecting gifts from his professors, barring Professor McGonagall, who had already given him aSsnitch, looked at his professors shyly.

"How about I go first?" Flitwick asked excitedly, hopping up and rushing over to fetch his gift from the pile. It was a thick rectangular gift wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper that seemed to reflect every ray of sunlight. Harry took the gift with a shy smile and glanced at the diminutive professor before tearing the paper off nervously.

The gift was a thick book, about the width of Hermione's favorite tome (Hogwarts: A History), though not quite as large. It had a salmon-colored binding with black words on the front that spelled out the title: A Charming Encyclopedia.

Harry, who had tucked his journal into his pocket in order to hold the gift, was not aware that Hermione had gasped beside him. Ron, who realized his friend was missing out on an explanation (whether that was to come from Hermione or Flitwick, he didn't know, though he could guess), pulled Harry's journal from his back pocket, startling the boy. He grinned at Harry's look and opened the journal, holding it out so Harry could read it without having to put down the book.

"This is a charms book you're unlikely to find in the library or a regular bookstore," the journal spelled out in Flitwick's sharp cursive. "It is an encyclopedia of charms that stretches back quite a few centuries. I daresay you're quite likely to master a good number of them if Mister Lupin is to be trusted."

Harry glanced at the Charms professor and blushed at the proud look on the man's face.

"He has a lot to say about your Patronus. I look forward to seeing what you can manage in my class, and out of it."

Harry smiled, face red, and signed "thank you" even as he mouthed it. Flitwick seemed very pleased, and laughed along with the rest of the professors when Hermione generously took the tome from Harry so he could open up the next present.

Professor Sprout was the next to come forward, holding a potted plant in her hands that she hadn't wrapped, for obvious reasons. She hadn't it to Harry, who took it and studied the plant.

The plant was grey-green, sprouting up from the soil with so many branches it was nearly falling out of the pot. The leaves were oval-shaped and covered with white fuzz, and Harry thought that he should know what the plant was, but he couldn't place it.

Instead of looking to Professor Sprout for an answer, Harry turned to Neville, who everyone knew did incredible in Herbology — perhaps the only class in which he didn't spend most of the time a nervous wreck.

"That's Origanum dictamnus," he said excitedly. "Dittany of Crete. It has a lot of great benefits, even besides being able to make Essence of Dittany from it." He stepped forward and fingered the leaves. "This is a really great specimen." He glanced at Professor Sprout. "I mean, of course it is. You take care of all of your plants very well, Professor."

"Thank you, Neville," Professor Sprout said, and proudly added, "Ten points to Gryffindor for such a wonderful display of Herbological knowledge."

Neville blushed to his ears but smiled, taking the plant carefully from Harry as the boy thanked Professor Sprout and took the next gift from Professor Dumbledore.

The package was square and rather heavy. Dumbledore conjured a small table so that Harry could set it down to unwrap it. As he worked at the bright yellow wrapping paper on which were images of various types of muggle candies, Dumbledore said, "I believe you will recognize this kind of item." Harry only caught this once he looked up from unwrapping the package, and by then he had recognized what was in it. It was a penseive, much like the one he had seen the previous year, only this one was currently empty. Harry glanced up at Dumbledore.

"As you know, I find penseives to be very useful magical objects and I'm quite sure you'll be able to put this one to good use. In fact, Remus and Sirius have given me a gift that goes along with this." He handed Harry a much smaller package, which Harry unwrapped to find a vial filled with silvery liquid, which he recognized as the stuff usually present in penseives.

"These are memories, Harry, that Remus and Sirius wanted to share with you of their time at Hogwarts. They are very private moments and so, though I helped them to copy the memories, I myself have no recollection of what they are about." He smiled at Harry's stunned expression. "I'm certain you will find them to be both enjoyable and educational."

Harry carefully placed the vials into the penseive, which Dumbledore moved to a larger table, and moved on to the other gifts.

Mrs. Weasley presented Harry with a hat, scarf, and pair of gloves, all done in emerald green and gold, which he knew had been knitted with as much love as every sweater he had ever received. Mr. Weasley gave him a Muggle radio that had been charmed to work at Hogwarts, despite the presence of so much magic, and pick up the magical channels. Harry briefly wondered what else the radio might have been charmed to do that Mr. Weasley didn't dare mention in front of his wife.

Charlie, grinning, presented Harry with a wand holster made of dragonhide that fastened to his wrist, straps encircling his forearm. He explained that the holster had been made from the scales of a Hungarian Horntail named Morana (causing Harry to gape at him) and would, because of her breed, be especially difficult to damage. He also gave Harry a dragon fang.

"This is Morana's," he said, standing in front of Harry and speaking so softly that only Ron could hear because he was standing close enough for the journal to pick up on the words. The book was closed so that no one else could read what was being said, and Harry could read it later. Ron listened in silence as Charlie explained. "She lost it during her attempts to escape after the first task, making its loss a direct result of your defeat of her. By rights, then, I can't really give this as a gift. It's a trophy you have earned and I'm simply returning it to you."

The fang was tied with a long strip of leather that Charlie wrapped around Harry's neck and then tied in the back as a necklace. The dragonfang was the length of his index finger, gleaming white and sharp. "Wearing this lets anyone who sees it know that you succeeded in slaying a dragon, despite the battle being ongoing. Wizards don't put much stock in it anymore, but a lot of magical creatures take it into account when judging someone. It's considered a sign of strength and can be very useful when dealing with… less than savory types."

He grinned. "It also makes you look completely badass."

Ron laughed loudly and Charlie went over to join Fred and George, who nagged him about what he had said to Harry, while Bill stepped forward. The eldest Weasley glanced at Ron, who opened the journal to a blank page and held it up for Harry to read.

"I'm probably going to get into trouble for giving you this," he admitted, not even bothering to keep his voice down. "If my parents don't give me hell for it, I'm pretty sure Professor McGonagall will, but it's dead useful and I'm not sorry."

Confused, Harry took the two small packages he was handed. He opened the rectangular one first to find a small, well-worn book. There was no title listed, but the purple cover was decorated with white silhouettes of various animals. Confused, Harry opened the second package, which was simply a small vial containing an incredibly purple potion that seemed to glow.

"MISTER WEASLEY!" Professor McGonagall shouted, at the same time as Mrs. Weasley screeched "WILLIAM ARTHUR WEASLEY!"

Ron jumped, making Harry's eyes dart to the journal. He winced at the large, encapsulated bold letters of Bill's name and turned his head to look at Mrs. Weasley.

"What do you think you are doing giving a minor a potion like that?" Professor McGonagall asked, her lips pursed in a thin line.

"You know as well as I do that the potion isn't dangerous, merely informational."

"Regardless, you should have said something to us before you went and gave him that sort of gift."

Bill frowned at his former professor disapprovingly. "I gave him the gift in full view of you, so that you would know precisely what it was he would be receiving. If I had intended to hide it from you, I would have given it to him in private, or given it to Ron to give to him. I'm well aware of what the potion can do, having used it myself, and the book is my old copy, which I no longer need. I suspect you'll be able to help him, Professor McGonagall. In fact, I hope you will, since I think having an animagus form is one of the most useful talents a wizard can have. Especially considering as much trouble as he gets in every year. I know my form has saved my life more than once."

"Bill!" Mrs. Weasley cried.

"I didn't know you were an animagus," Ron said, sounding betrayed.

"It's a recent development," Bill admitted. "Within the last year. I haven't even managed to register yet since I couldn't get out of Egypt. I'll finally be able to get to the Ministry today to put myself on the registry, though I've been tempted not to." He didn't even look apologetic when Mrs. Weasley started lecturing him.

Harry looked back at the potion, then to Bill.

Seeing Harry's confused look, Bill frowned at his mother, who quieted when Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You can lecture me later, Mum. Right now, we're celebrating Harry's birthday." He turned back to Harry and explained. "The potion is called the Anima Revelio. It allows the drinker to enter a trance-like state and seek out their inner animal, discovering what the form would take. It's a way for a wizard to discover his animagus form before attempting the transformation process, in case their animagus form is something that wouldn't be much use. Say a whale, which would be dangerous to attempt outside of the ocean and about as useless unless you lived on the coast."

Harry looked back at the potion, studying the glow coming from the purple liquid.

"The book," Bill went on to explain, "is an instruction manual on how to become an animagus. I've had the copy for a few years now, but as I've successfully achieved my form, I don't have use for it any longer. The book was also given to me by someone else, who asked that I pass it on once I'd finished with it. I'd like to continue that, if I could. Once you're done with it, whether you try the transformation process or not, it would be good if you could pass the book on to someone else."

Harry looked up at Bill and nodded seriously. Bill smiled. "Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it."

Harry didn't really understand why Bill appreciated it, but he nodded just the same, thanking him.

Fred and George gave Harry a large, rather heavy package which they asked him not to open in public, but once he got back to his dorms. Harry, curious and a little concerned, nodded in agreement and set the package next to the penseive he had received from Dumbledore.

Luna was the next to come forward, surprising Harry. He had only met her a few times and didn't know her that well, so he really wasn't sure why she had come. Although he knew she was friends with Ginny, he still hadn't expected her to give him a gift.

"Hello, Harry," she said in her vague-sounding voice.

Harry nodded in greeting, reading her lips. Her eyes were staring off at some spot behind his right shoulder and he was very tempted to look behind him to see what she was looking at, but didn't want to miss anything she said.

"I'm very sorry that you're still have trouble hearing things, but it will get better. I thought you might like to focus on your other senses, though, so I asked Daddy to get you a better pair of glasses." She handed over a strange-looking pair of glasses made from what appeared to be thick cardboard. They were shaped like strange hands, fingers splayed outward, and painted a splattering mess of colors.

"They should be useful, I think," Luna said, and ignored the sound of Ron laughing behind her.

"I also think she would have wanted you to have this," Luna said ambiquously, and snapped something tightly over Harry's right wrist. He looked down at it in surprise. It was a silver band of metal that was laid over top of a thick strip of leather, fashioned as a type of decorative manacle. A shape had been inlaid in the silver of a large feather Harry recognized immediately as belonging to an owl. How could he not? He'd cleaned them up enough whenever Hedwig was molting. Looking at it, he could even almost see the white color of the feather. It was… it was one of Hedwig's.

He looked up to ask Luna, only she wasn't standing in front of him anymore. In fact, she wasn't anywhere near them. He looked at Ron who, apparently also confused, pointed toward the school. Harry looked to see Luna making her way back to Hogwarts, clearly deciding her part in the party was finished, having handed over her very strange gifts.

Harry stared at the bracelet for a long moment, and then placed the strange spectacles inside his penseive and received a heavy package from Neville that seemed to slosh as he held it.

"You might want to set it down," Neville suggested, and helped Harry place it on the table where he had opened his penseive.

"Mister Longbottom?" Professor Sprout asked, clearly realized what the gift was, or suspected, and surprised by it. Neville smiled nervously at her, then turned back to Harry.

"This is a plant I think you're going to recognize," he said, grinning. "It grows in the water, so you'll have to make sure not to remove it unless you're going to use it."

Confused, Harry knelt down so he could peer through the glass of the cylinder. He studied the strange plant growing inside. It looked like a bunch of thick branches with strange bulbous flowers that looked like a tangle of worms-

Harry jerked his head up, staring at Neville, and mouthed "Gillyweed?!"

Neville grinned. "Yeah. I kind of got the idea that you liked being able to breathe underwater." His smile turned sheepish. "I have a larger plant at home. This is just a clipping of it, but if you take care of it, it could get pretty bit. The tank has an expansion charm on it so it's bigger on the inside."

Harry surprised both Neville and himself by hugging the boy.

"Um…" Neville patted Harry awkwardly on the back. "I'm glad you like it?"

Harry pulled away, grinning. He grabbed his journal from Ron, who was laughing, and quickly wrote "Thank you so much. This is amazing. I really love it, Neville. Thank you."

Neville blushed until his whole face was crimson and ducked his head. "I'm glad you like it," he murmured. "Happy Birthday, Harry."

Ron and Hermione were somewhat predictable in their gifts. Ron gave Harry a package of Chocolate Frogs, from which one was missing, the empty box clearly visible (prompting an eyeroll from Hermione and a grin from Harry). Hermione gave Harry a package that he knew right away was a book.

"It's not just a normal book, though," she explained. "Do you remember the tomekey we used to go to Diagon Alley?"

Harry nodded. Hard to forget, considering what had happened that day. "Miss Morely helped me get it. This is a tomekey that will let you travel somewhere, but the destination isn't preset, so you'll be able to decide where. And you can see what the book is that you'll be able to learn."

Harry could. It wasn't, as he would have suspected, a book of spells or potions, but a language book. A very thick book, in fact, that not only explained how to properly form sentences, but also a complete language to language dictionary. It was for Greek.

"I think it will be really useful," Hermione said. What she didn't say, but what Harry knew, was that this was the language Snape spoke with Elena, and if they used this tomekey, whoever used it, would learn the language. They would be able to understand, and presumably speak, Greek.

He looked up at her.

"I wanted to get you more than one, but they're really hard to find." She grinned at him. "Good thing I have a few months until Christmas."

Harry hugged her and she hugged him tightly back. He knew he wouldn't be able to hear or speak the words, but he would be able to read them in his journal and that was something. And he knew, as Hermione knew, that she and Ron would be using the tomekey with him. Maybe Ginny, too.

Hermione held onto the book, rather than setting it down in full view of the teachers, while Ginny came over. She smiled softly at Harry, looking a little nervous. Hagrid was standing a little ways behind her, a box in his arms.

"Harry, Hagrid and I worked together to get you a gift. I wasn't sure what to get you and he needed help finding what he was looking for." She smiled and looked back at Hagrid nervously.

"Yer parents had a couple pets durin' their schoolyears," Hagrid said. "Yer dad had an owl when he first came 'ere, and later, he go' permission t' bring a crup."

Behind Harry, Professor McGonagall groaned in remembered horror.

"I wasn' allowed t' get you a crup, since yer dad caused a lot of havoc with his. Pity, since they're dead smart."

Harry had the sudden flash of terror that Hagrid had gotten him a three-headed puppy, and the idea of an ankle-biting version of Fluffy caused enough of a panic that he was tempted to run back to the castle and hide in his dormitory. Ron was apparently having a similar worrying thought, because his face was a little green and he looked about like he did when faced with a spider.

Ginny, however, didn't appear worried about what Hagrid had in the box in his arms, but just a little nervous. She kept sneaking glances at Harry and he wondered why she was so concerned.

"Yer mum didn' have an owl when she was at school. She always used the school owls or one o' her friends'. When she left school, though, yer dad came t' me because he wanted my help finding a gift for her. She'd always wanted a cat, y'see, and couldn't have one at home."

Aunt Petunia is allergic, Harry thought, remembering her mentioning it once, he didn't remember to whom.

"He wanted a real special cat, not just an ordinary one, but something that wouldn't be too hard to blend in with the muggle world. Tha' meant a kneazle was out and half-kneazles are hard t' get if people know yer looking fer one. So I found him something else."

Hagrid looked down into the crate, his expression turning sad. "Yer mum loved him and she 'ad 'im for years. When yer parents died, I thought he had died too, except there wasn't no records o' him and I looked." Hagrid sniffed loudly. "And Miss Weasley helped me look." There were tears in Hagrid's eyes.

Ginny nodded and smiled gently at Hagrid. "I helped him check the records and there wasn't a record of the cat's death, and there would have been, because your mum registered him as her familiar. He would have been treated just like a person if he had died — given a grave and everything — but there wasn't any. We looked for places that housed lost familiars. They're recognized by their magical signature and collected until their owner comes to retrieve them. Of course, you didn't know about him, so no one came to retrieve him. He's been taken care of for fourteen years by a really nice family who were very happy they could reunite him with his owner. That's you, Harry."

Harry was confused. He knew cats could live long lives — Mrs. Figg had told him long stories about her many long-lived cats — but if the cat had been alive before he was even born, it was at least fifteen. Even for a cat, that was old.

"I am not an ordinary cat, Potter boy," whispered a voice in his head.

Harry jumped and looked up. A cat face was peering out of the box in Hagrid's arms. As he watched, the feline jumped up and balanced on the edge of the crate, displayed his shiny black fur and long, slender twin tails. Harry stared at him.

"He's a bakaneko, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "And he was your mother's familiar. That means he can become yours by inheritance, if you want him."

Harry didn't know what to say. This cat, this bakaneko, had belonged to his mother. It was a piece of his life before he had lost his parents. A piece of everything that he had lost that had somehow, magically, found its way back to him.

"The choice is yours, Potter boy. If you don't want me, I'll go back to the family who has been caring for me. They liked to give me fish. I'm very fond of fish, you know. It's a cat thing."

Yes, I want him, Harry thought. He's speaking into my head.

The bakaneko rolled his eyes. "You don't know anything, do you? I suppose I'll just have to teach you. But for starters, my name is Zinnia."

Harry swallowed and took his journal from Ron, writing shakily. He handed the journal back to Ron, who opened it and read the words aloud to Ginny and Hagrid. Harry wasn't paying attention. He had stepped forward and held out his arms, into which the cat leapt gracefully, curling up against his chest and beginning to lick his forepaws. Harry hugged the cat tight, eliciting a purr from the creature, and a double-tail slap to the face.

"Not so tight, Potter boy. I'm not a stuffed toy."

My name is Harry, Harry thought, loosening his grip.

"You'll earn your name, and I'll be the one to give it to you. It's a cat thing."

You can hear my thoughts?

"I'm your inherited familiar, silly boy. Of course I can hear your thoughts. Now, the house elves have made a lovely lunch for me in a nice little silver bowl. It's fish. I want you to find it for me. I like fish." He licked between his toes.

Harry looked up to find Hagrid watching him, tears in his eyes. "Ye remember 'im?" he asked, and Harry instinctively knew it was because of what he wrote in the book, but he didn't bother confirming or denying it. He buried his face in the cat's fur and listened to the sound of its purr. It was soothing. It felt, he realized, like home.

"Yes, I want to keep Zinnia," he had written. "Thank you for finding him for me."

Ginny closed the journal and handed it back to Ron, wiping the tears from her eyes. This, she thought, was the best idea that Hagrid had ever had.

Ron and Hermione privately agreed.