"Owl Post," said Dumbledore.

"Who cares about the post?" muttered Zacharias.

Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.

"You can say that again." muttered Nightstrike with a smirk.

For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year.

"Don't blame you." said Sirius shortly.

For another, he really wanted to do his homework

Harry looked up to the ceiling innocently and whistled.

"We should spank your fingers for wanting to do homework." said Lee.

"We don't know you anymore." said the twins with a disdainful sniff.

"Nothing wrong with wanting to do homework!" said Hermione.

"It is when it's a bloke working on it." said Ron.

but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night.

"Sounds like one of your 'jobs'." said Neville.

"Did you do any that summer?" asked Colin.

Harry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his little black book, and flipped though he thoughtfully.

"I was commissioned to check on a painting and oriental vase." said Harry reading from the book.

"You keep track?" asked Dennis staring eagerly at the book.

"Have to, if I had a bad experience, I want to remember where and who." said Harry.

"How much money did you make for one of those trips?" asked Ernie.

"Not telling." said Harry. "Don't want you lot going off thinking it's easy money."

"Spoilsport." smirked Fred.

And he also happened to be a wizard.

"Mr. Smith, one more word..." hissed Professor Sprout to the Hufflepuff that opened his mouth.

It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed,

"I never could lay on my stomach." said Sirius thoughtfully, "It always made me feel ill."

"Didn't help that James hid under the mattress and punched you through it when you went to lay down." said Remus with a laugh.

the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot)

Bathilda beamed happily from her rocking chair.

propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, 'Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.'

"You needed help with that essay?" said Hermione.

"I needed something obvious." said Harry.

The quill paused at the top of a likely looking paragraph. Harry pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose,

"They aren't round, anymore." said Remus with a smile.

"I thought you said last week that the Eyeglass shop wasn't going to be open Sunday, how did you manage to get the glasses yesterday?" asked Hermione as she watched Harry adjusting his square framed glasses.

"I only had to send her a letter for her to open shop." said Remus with a smile.

moved his flashlight closer to the book, and read:

Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it.

"They never are." said Tonks "Oh! Sorry Dr. Clark." she said quickly looking over to the man.

"It's okay, I never knew this entire world existed." said Dr. Clark with a smile.

On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever.

"Wow, wish they had told somebody over in Salem." said Dr. Clark wide eyed.

The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation.

"But how do you explain not reducing to ashes?" said Dr. Clark.

"He's got a point." said a first year muggle-born.

"They apparate, leaving only the wood's ash." said Bathilda Bagshot.

"Ah." said Dr. Clark, but then his face fell. "What about the poor Muggles that were accused?"

"Aurors stepped in and rescued them, they stunned all the Muggles that were present and whisked them away, obliviated them and gave them new identities." said Bathilda.

"Well that makes me feel better." said Dr. Clark.

Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises.

"There's a Wendelin the Weird Famous Witch or Wizard card that has a misprint, I heard it sold four thousand galleons." said Ron

"What made it a misprint?" asked Dean.

"Said she was set on fire about one hundred and seventeen times." said Ron.

"I don't think I'd enjoy it even once." said Dr. Clark with a smile.

Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his inkbottle and a roll of parchment. Slowly and very carefully he unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped his quill into it, and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen,

"Why?" asked a first year Hufflepuff.

"Let him finish and you'd find out." said Madam Bones in a hushed voice.

because if any of the Dursleys heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, he'd probably find himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer.

"But you're too big to fit in there!" said Hermione shrilly.

"Wouldn't have stopped him to be perfectly honest." said Harry thoughtfully.

The people in the Great Hall turned to look at him, a muscle went in and out of Lionus' cheek.

The Dursley family of Number Four, Privet Drive, was the reason that Harry never enjoyed his summer holidays. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were Harry's only living relatives.

"I wouldn't even call them relatives." said Sirius with a snarl.

They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic.

"Medieval?" said Sirius and Remus quietly. "They wouldn't...burn you, would they?"

"They tried hurting Hedwig once, they found out right quick to not touch her again." said Harry with a smile.

"What happened?" asked Professor Flitwick.

"She clawed them and snapped at them so much that they didn't want to get anywhere near her." said Harry.

"Then what did they try?" asked Neville.

"Don't want to talk about it." said Harry quickly.

"Harry..." said Sirius worriedly.

"Don't want to talk about it." repeated Harry sternly.

Harry's dead parents, who had been a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Dursleys' roof.

Sirius and Remus both growled fiercely.

For years, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hoped that if they kept Harry as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of him.

"Both definitions of downtrodden work here." said Professor Flitwick bitterly.

To their fury, they had not been successful.

More and more people in the Great Hall started snarling and growling.

These days they lived in terror of anyone finding out that Harry had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away Harry's spell books, wand, cauldron, and broomstick at the start of the summer break, and forbid him to talk to the neighbors.

"They did much worse to you the year before, what made them not go to that extreme?" asked Blaise.

"They didn't want part of the house ripped off again." said Harry with a smile.

"What did they do the moment you got home, because of that little stunt with the car?" asked Dr. Clark.

"Lots of shouting, got smacked about, nothing major." said Harry shrugging.

It completely broke Dumbledore's heart to hear Harry speak nonchalantly about his terror filled home life.

"Albus, are you alright?" asked a far off voice. He looked up and saw everyone staring at him.

"I'm fine, I apologize." said Dumbledore, slowly picking up the book he had accidentally dropped.

This separation from his spell books had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions,

"And what about it made it nasty?" asked Dumbledore, as he sipped a small portion of Calming Draught, his heart was pounding and made continuing quite painful.

"It needed to be a six feet long." said Harry.

"That'll do it." said Sirius with a sour look towards the potion master.

was for Harry's least favorite teacher, Professor Snape,

"Sorry." Harry muttered as he rubbed the back of his head.

who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry detention for a month.

Snape smirked to himself.

"If you had told me how you were unable to do your work, we could have worked something out with me and the other teachers." said Professor McGonagall.

"I would have had it done, the only thing that was time-consuming was dumbing down my thoughts." said Harry.

Harry had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays.

"Well the discomfort of that summer didn't last long." said Justin with a relived smile.

"It get's worse, way worse." said Harry. "Least on my stand point."

While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too),

"What kind of car was it?" asked Dr. Clark.

"I'm not sure, but it was white, four doors, sort of looked like Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia, only the front was a bit longer." said Harry.

"And he bragged about that car?" said Dr. Clark.

Harry had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs,

"Sort of nicked one of the Ginny's hairpins." said Harry, "Forgot to give it back."

"When did you take it?" asked Ginny.

"The summer before." said Harry. "George went in your room with me and helped me find one, that's where he got his."

"Your hairpins are good luck." said George with a smile.

grabbed some of his books, and hidden them in his bedroom.

"It was the same place that I used to store the stuff I would go after." said Harry.

"You changed the spot?" asked Sirius.

"Uncle Vernon almost found it, had to change it." said Harry.

As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that he was studying magic by night.

"Amazed you don't do the laundry." said Hermione hotly.

"Not after I shrunk one of Aunt Petunia's cocktail dresses, so it turned into a kid's dress." said Harry with a smirk. "I suck at laundry, can just barely fold clothes right."

Harry was particularly keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with him,

"When aren't they?" said Fred rolling his eyes.

all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation.

"What's wrong with that?" asked Dr. Clark, "other than the Dursley's don't give you the rights that normal people have."

"They don't like the 'W' word, or anyone associated with it." said Harry.

"'W' word?" asked Sirius.

"Wizard, or Witch." said Harry.

Ron Weasley, who was one of Harry's best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things Harry didn't, but had never used a telephone before.

"Albus, I think Muggle Studies should be one of the mandatory classes for third years and under, so they would at least have the muggle basics down." said McGonagall.

"I quite agree." said Dumbledore. "It would do us no good to be discovered by untrained generations in the ways of the Muggles."

Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.

"Vernon Dursley speaking."

"Wow, he actually sound mildly decent." said George.

Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron's voice answer.

"I knew this wasn't going to be good." said Harry.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I — WANT — TO — TALK — TO — HARRY — POTTER!"

Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear,

Several people laughed loudly.

staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.

"His face looked really funny." said Harry.

"WHO IS THIS?" he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"RON — WEASLEY!" Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. "I'M — A — FRIEND — OF — HARRY'S — FROM — SCHOOL —"

"I thought this was how you were supposed to talk on those things." said Ron sheepishly.

Uncle Vernon's small eyes swiveled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot.

"Running away only makes it worse." said Harry quietly.

"THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode.

"That would have been fun to do." said George with an evil smirk.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

"Wonder if he meant Harry too?" asked Colin.

"Doubtful, Mr. Creevey." said McGonagall with a frown.

And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.

"What is with you and talking about spiders?" asked Ron.

The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever.

People looked over to Harry fearfully.

"What happened?" asked Remus worriedly.

"Aside from a black eye, busted lip, bloody nose and lump on my head, it was only a shouting match." said Harry.

"So in short, you got the snot beat out of you." said Sirius.

"HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE — PEOPLE LIKE YOU!" Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with spit.

"He hasn't ever actually spit on you, on purpose, has he?" asked Remus with a growl.

"Only when he talks right in my face. He never learned to say it, not spray it." said Harry.

Ron obviously realized that he'd gotten Harry into trouble, because he hadn't called again.

"Yeah, your uncle didn't sound all that happy." said Ron.

Harry's other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either.

"Sorry Harry, but Ron sent word to me that calling you wouldn't have been a good idea." said Hermione.

Harry suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call,

"Oh, you already guessed that." said Hermione, turning pink.

which was a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch in Harry's year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.

"Don't know how you were going to get around to talking to me, though." said Harry thinking hard.

So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one.

"Nothing was as bad as last summer." muttered Madam Pomfrey, remembering the near starvation the poor boy suffered.

There was just one very small improvement — after swearing that he wouldn't use her to send letters to any of his friends, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night.

"Screw the promise, send her out to get you out of there!" said Sirius.

"He told me what would happen if he saw her with so much as a post-it note leaving the house on her leg or in her beak." said Harry. "Wasn't worth it."

"What was he going to do?" asked Hermione.

"Clip her wings, and he wasn't going to do it cleanly." said Harry.

Uncle Vernon had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time.

"He couldn't sleep very well at night." said Harry with a smile.

"Poor baby." smirked Fred.

Harry finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Dudley. It must be very late, Harry thought.

"How do you know that?" said Dennis.

"He doesn't get around to snoring till about twelve fifty-nine in the morning." said Harry.

His eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps he'd finish this essay tomorrow night…

"I needed just two more feet and then I would have been done." said Harry.

He replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under his bed; put the flashlight, A History of Magic, his essay, quill, and ink inside it; got out of bed; and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under his bed.

"Good hiding spot, in that pristine house no one would expect a hole in the floor." said Kingsley with a smile.

Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.

"Fished that out of the garbage, had to go to the junkyard just to find the parts I needed." said Harry.

It was one o'clock in the morning. Harry's stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour.

"What's your stomach got to do with it?" asked Terry.

"Just the thought that it was my birthday and never noticed it." said Harry.

Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays.

"Haven't had a decent birthday for over five years." said Harry slouching into the bowl.

He had never received a birthday card in his life.

"I sent you one last year!" said Ron.

"So did I!" said Hermione.

"And me." said Hagrid.

"Dobby never gave me my letters, not even after he was sent free. He still can't remember where he hid them." said Harry.

The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to suppose they would remember this one.

"My faith in them died when I turned four." said Harry.

Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig's large, empty cage, to the open window.

"If you're tired, go to bed." said Zacharias rolling his eyes.

He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets.

"Were the bars gone?" asked George.

"Yeah, he left them off, after you, Fred and George ripped them right off." said Harry.

Hedwig had been absent for two nights now.

Harry wasn't worried about her: she'd been gone this long before.

"Can't find many mice around Privet Drive, especially with Mrs. Figg's cats wandering around." said Harry.

But he hoped she'd be back soon — she was the only living creature in this house who didn't flinch at the sight of him.

"That might have a hand in why it annoys me so much when people flinch at Voldemort's name. Reminds of what the Dursleys did." said Harry sourly.

Harry, though still rather small and skinny for his age,

"That's an understatement." said Sirius.

"Hey, I got taller." said Harry defensively.

"Yeah, at a cost, but you're still as skinny as a needle." said Sirius.

had grown a few inches over the last year.

"Not that you could tell in Dudley's old clothes." said Harry. "He always was taller than me by five inches. Though I'm pretty sure I'm taller than him, now."

His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been — stubbornly untidy,

"It got longer though." said Hermione.

"It was longer than any of the other boys in the dorm. Remember one night when we slipped him a sleeping potion and cut his hair?" asked Ron over to the other boys in the dorm.

"Remember when I kicked your guys' ass the next morning when I work up?" said Harry with a smirk.

whatever he did to it. The eyes behind his glasses were bright green, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"That particular shape, it always interested me." said Dr. Nicodemus rubbing his chin.

Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harry's parents,

"Which is an insult to their memory." said Sirius with a growl.

because Lily and James Potter had not died in a car crash.

They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years, Lord Voldemort.

"Grindewald is an easy close second." said Bathilda Bagshot.

Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemort's curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled…

But Harry had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts.

"Something I should never have allowed." said Dumbledore sadly.

Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday.

"You are far too young to have thoughts like that." said Tempest.

"Yeah, kids your age should only be thinking about girls, sports, and fast brooms." said Nightstrike.

He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise.

"She'd always get it." said Harry with a smile.

Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realized what he was seeing.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction.

"What the hell?" asked Remus curiously.

He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut.

"Good lad." said Moody appreciatively.

But then the bizarre creature soared overone of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside.

"Must have been Hedwig." said Seamus.

Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious.

"An unconscious owl?" asked Tonks.

"Errol." said the Weasley children together.

They landed with a soft flump on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

"Oh, Ron. That was too far a trip for Errol." chided Mrs. Weasley.

"I know, but, it was Harry's birthday." said Ron apologetically.

Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage.

"Your bed was probably more comfortable." said Hermione crossing her arms.

"There's no water on my bed." said Harry.

"Oh." said Hermione, unfolding her arms.

Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig.

"Hope she wasn't around to hear the 'large' part." said Harry looking around, hoping for the first time not to see his beautiful white owl.

She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.

Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest.

"I hated that piece of paper that that owl carried." said Harry.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Dr. Clark.

"You'll see." said Harry pouting slightly.

"I couldn't do anything Mr. Potter." said Professor McGonagall, no regret on her face.

"I know, but it's not often that I get to have a hissy fit for no reason." said Harry with a smile.

When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.

"They always were stuck up." said Fred.

Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package,

Several boys started to snigger and laugh.

Professor McGonagall groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Adolescent boys are horrible."

ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope.

People began to snarl again, no one should be that happy to get a birthday card.

Two pieces of paper fell out — a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving.

Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

"I was happy to see the picture that went with that." said Harry with a smile.

"So was I." said Sirius with malicious smile.

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

"Couldn't' have happened to a nicer chap." said one of the Unspeakables.

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid.

"I couldn't tell you two apart at the time." said Harry looking at Bill and Charlie.

Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers,

Sirius chuckled darkly.

on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.

Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor.

Mrs. Weasley sent a teary eyed smile over to Harry.

He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday!

Look, I'm really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time.

"Yeah, that was a wasted hope." said Ron sadly.

I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted.

"Gee, really?" said Dean.

It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.

"Who do you think warned her about that tomb? I didn't want her having nightmares." said Bill.

I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me a new wand for next year.

"Well, we had to. You're wand was lost down underneath the school." said Mr. Weasley with a smile.

Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds.

We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?

"At the moment, not all that great." said Harry.

Don't let the Muggles get you down!

"Too late." said Harry.

Try and come to London,

Ron

P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week.

"Why bother telling him?" asked Fred.

"Pre-warning him." said Harry.

Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.

"You did look awfully important." said Harry kindly. Percy puffed out his chest.

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.

Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.

"Thought the soup was a little crunchy." said Bill turning green. "Explains why you two were snorting over your pigeons."

"We ate pigeon?" said the twin also turning green.

Bye — Ron

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds,

"You sure are easy to please." said Leroy with a fond smile.

then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you're all right.

"What did you think happened?" asked Remus quickly.

"Maybe that he got grounded." said Hermione.

I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you — what if they'd opened it at customs? —

"Were you in Paris, Miss Granger?" asked Lionus with a smile.

"Um..yes sir..." said Hermione quietly.

"Under the Eiffle Tower, there is a small star shaped bolt, push that and then you get sent down underground. That's where the french version of Diagon Alley is." said Lionus with a smile. "There's an Owl Post office in there."

"Not to mention a wonderful bakery." said Dr. Nicodemus with a fond smile.

"He's got one heck of a sweet tooth." said Lionus with a smile.

but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change.

"Wish I had an owl like that." said one of third year Ravenclaws.

I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world).

"Why are you so formal in your letters?" said Hannah.

Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous — the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.

"Wow, Ron. Did you learn loads?" said Fred teasingly.

"Yeah, a bunch, like not to break into an Egyptian tomb." said Ron with a smirk.

There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out, I hope it's not too long — it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.

"He doesn't read them anyway." said Sirius with a laugh.

"How do you?" said Hermione disdainfuly.

"We found out." said Sirius and Remus together.

"James wrote about seven feet of the filthiest jokes ever thought of by a third year." said Sirius with a laugh.

"He didn't even tell James off for it. Binns doesn't read the homework." said Remus with a smile.

"That will change, as you are now the new History teacher." said McGonagall with a proud smile.

Remus turned pink slightly and smiled.

Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come?

"No." said most of the people in the Great Hall.

I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from Hermione

P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.

"What made you think that?" asked Charlie with a smirk.

Harry laughed as he put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells —

"What else would she give someone?" asked Marietta.

Hermione looked smug.

but it wasn't. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.

"How's that for a birthday present?" said Hermione looking smug at everyone staring at her.

"That's a good one." said Sirius with a smile.

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare.

Sirius whistled. "Good present." he repeated slowly.

Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world — highly dangerous, very exciting,

"Crazy nuts." said Madam Pomfrey shaking her head.

and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.

Dumbledore and McGonagall smiled at each other.

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper.

He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly — as though it had jaws.

"It's not what I think it is, is it?" asked Bathida.

"It is." said Professor McGonagall knowing the author very well.

Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous.

"Sorry, Hagrid." said Harry sincerely.

"It's alright, after Aragog, I guess I'm not all that sure." said Hagrid sadly.

"They just weren't loyal to you." said Nightstrike kindly.

Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin.

Harry poked the parcel nervously.

"Don't blame you." said Sirius in a whisper.

It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike.

They couldn't help it, the people in the Great Hall laughed, as well as Hagrid.

Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.

And out fell — a book.

"Shouldn't Hermione's and Hagrid's gift be switched?" asked a seventh year Slytherin.

Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered.

People laughed even harder.

The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room.

"Hope that Uncle Vernon didn't wake up." said Colin quietly.

Harry followed it stealthily.

"It chased any noise anything in my room made." said Harry.

The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.

"Ouch!"

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him,

"Were you okay?" asked Sirius, not finding it funny anymore.

"Yeah, just a bite mark on the top of my hand." said Harry.

still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.

"Good, he's still sleeping." said Remus heaving a relieved sigh.

Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap,

"Beats my idea for tape." said one of the other fifth years.

so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

Think you might find this useful for next year.

Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you.

Hope the Muggles are treating you right.

All the best,

Hagrid

It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful,

Harry gave a shamed smile up to Hagrid, but Hagrid only smiled gently back.

but he put Hagrid's card up next to Ron's and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever.

"I went from no cards to three in one night." said Harry.

Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.

Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.

A list of books for next year is enclosed.

Yours sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"The Dursleys aren't going sign that." said Tonks sadly.

Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning.

"I had the same thought." said Harry with a sad smile.

It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the form?

"Too bad you can't use blackmail." said Moody.

"Alastor!" shouted McGonagall.

"Acutally..." said Harry with a smile.

Professor McGonagall groaned loudly as Moody laughed loudly.

He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts.

"I stopped doing that after first year." said Zacharias with smirk.

Then he took off his glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing his three birthday cards.

Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else — glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.

"Wow, that chapter was sort of...not all that bad." said Remus.

"Shall we take a break for lunch?" asked Dumbledore with a smile.

Suddenly the door opened and in came the winged man from earlier that day, he shoved a long blonde haired man into the Great Hall.

"Here he is Captain." said the man standing behind the frightened looking man and shoving the man forward again.

"Hello, Lucius Malfoy, I'd like to have a word with you." said Captain Lionus standing up with a smirk on his face.