A Birthday Dream
Nearly thirteen years had passed since that terrible Halloween in 1981. Harry Potter was fourteen years old now, no longer a baby. He’d been raised in a kind, loving family, made up of his father and uncles Padfoot and Moony. He knew nothing of dark cupboards under stairs, or fighting through summers full of bullying and hunger pains. He was, however, no stranger to pain. He’d had more than his share of accidents, dangerous adventures, and near death experiences. And at that moment, he felt like another was approaching.
Harry was woken in the early hours of the morning on July 31st by a sharp pain shooting through the lightning scar on his forehead, accompanied by a deeply disturbed feeling in his gut. He’d been having a deeply unsettling dream, and felt certain that it was not a normal one.
Harry was no stranger to pains in his scar, either, but it was not lost on him that the only times it had hurt thus far had been when Lord Voldemort was near him. He was sure that that couldn’t be the case now - it was ridiculous to think that Voldemort could have found them. He lived in his father’s ancestral home, a manor home far out in the country. It was warded to the extreme, almost excessively so, with all manner of protection and concealments charms, all the way through the Fidelius Charm. Of course, this time they’d chosen their Secret Keeper more carefully. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Sirius would never turn them over to Voldemort. What was more, as Sirius lived with them in the manor, Voldemort couldn’t find him even if he’d known to.
No, there was no way that Voldemort could be near him now, but that knowledge did nothing to stop the burning pain on his head. He knew that Voldemort had been in his dream, along with Peter Pettigrew, and two men he didn’t recognize. Based on the dream, he concluded that one of them was a Muggle, and he had been murdered by Voldemort. The other, though… he’d appeared to be working with Voldemort, but he was nobody Harry recognized.
Harry glanced at his alarm clock. It was very early in the morning, barely half past four, but he couldn’t rid himself of the fear and discomfort that had settled itself in his stomach. He didn’t want to go running to his father over a nightmare - he was fourteen, he was much too old for that - but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this hadn’t been an ordinary nightmare.
There was nothing else for it. Shivering slightly, Harry climbed out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown and slippers, and padded down the hallway.
He hesitated outside of Sirius and Remus’s room. Speaking to his uncles felt slightly less childish than waking his father. But - no. He’d made the mistake on walking into their room before they’d emerged themselves in the morning, and had no desire to repeat it. Shaking his head, he continued down the hall until he reached his father’s room.
He knocked lightly, despire knowing how unlikely it was that James would be awake, and sure enough, received no answer. He pushed the door open and entered.
James Potter was laying in his bed, fast asleep. Harry spared a glance at the picture of his mother on James’s nightstand, smiling and waving up at him, before padding across the room and lightly tapping his father’s shoulder.
James had always been a very light sleeper. The moment Harry’s hand touched him, he jerked awake, his eyes roaming the room as he immediately became alert.
“Harry?” James asked, looking around and seeing no one else. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I…” Harry hesitated. James was very familiar with the pains Harry felt in his scar, and he didn’t want to alarm his father over something as simple as a night terror. But he’d already woken him up. Saying nevermind and returning to bed would leave his father more worried than telling him what was wrong. “I think something’s going on, but I… I’m not entirely sure what.”
James was fully awake and alert now. He sat up, patting the bed beside him, and Harry sat down.
“What’s going on?” James asked, putting an arm around his son’s shoulders and looking down at him.
“I had this really weird dream,” Harry said slowly. “But I don’t think it was fully a dream. Voldemort was there, and Peter, and then a man I didn’t recognize. A Muggle, I think, listening in outside the door. And Voldemort and Peter were talking. Something about the Quidditch world cup. And Voldemort was weak, really weak, but they were talking about strengthening him. And they said that… they said something could be done without me, but Voldemort was really insistent that it had to be me. And they were talking about already having killed someone, and a faithful servant at Hogwarts, and they were… they were plotting to kill me. And the Muggle that was listening got caught, and they killed him. And then… my scar starting hurting, really bad, and it woke me up. But Voldemort can’t be anywhere near here, can he? It’s only ever hurt before when he’s nearby.”
“No, I don’t think he’s anywhere near here,” James said quietly, sounding as though he were choosing his words very carefully. “Can you remember anything about who they’d already killed?”
Harry thought about it. Slowly, very slowly, a name seemed to float to the front of his mind. “B… Beth? No, Bertha. Bertha something.”
James looked extremely startled now. “Bertha Jorkins?”
“Yes, that’s it!” Harry exclaimed. He looked up at James, who looked very disturbed. He bit his lip. “Is… do you know who that is?”
“She works at the Ministry,” James said slowly. “I was talking to Arthur about her. She’s been missing for several weeks now.”
Harry felt a thrill of horror go through him. “Missing! You don’t think that she’s actually dead, do you?”
James hesitated, whcih was more than answer enoughn for Harry.
“Oh, Merlin, you do,” he groaned. “Do you think the rest of the dream was real, too, Dad? Is that Muggle really dead too?”
“I can’t say for sure,” James said slowly. “Sirius and I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore tonight, we’ll ask him about it.”
Harry made a face, which James noticed. He smiled.
“I know,” he sighed. “You know I have my reservations about the headmaster, Harry, but he is still looked upon as the leader of light. He has been known to have sound advice, you know.”
“I know,” Harry sighed. “I just…” he cut himself off.
“I wish he’d stop meddling with your life, too,” James said comfortingly, giving Harry’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “But Sirius, Remus, and I won’t let him mess with you too much. And in the meantime, he may know something about this dream. But I want you to put it out of your mind until tomorrow, alright? I don’t want you dwelling on it all through your party today.”
Harry brightened. “I forgot about that!”
James laughed. “Well, I think you ought to get back to sleep. It woudln’t do to be falling asleep on your guests.”
Harry stood, but hesitated. He was trying his best to put the drema out of his mind, as his father suggested, but he still felt unsettled. He felt better being near his dad.
James seemed to read this on his face. “You could stay in here, if you’d like.”
Harry liked that idea better than returning to his room, but stopped himself before accepting. He was much too old to be sleeping in the same bed as his dad. “No, I’ll be alright, I can-”
“Harry,” James said gently. “Fourteen isn’t too old to need some comfort. You’ll see, when you’re older, just how young fourteen really is. I think the bed is big enough for both of us.”
Harry gave his father a look, which James readily returned. Harry sighed, admitting defeat, and climbed up in the bed beside his father. James pulled the blanket up over them, and they settled down.
“You know, Harry,” James said, a few minutes later. “When I got nightmares, I would go climb in bed with my parents all the time.”
“Really?” Harry asked, surprised. He was pretty sure that James, Sirius, and Remus were the bravest people he’d ever met. He couldn’t imagine them getting scared by nightmares.
“Really,” James nodded. “All the way until I moved out. And then, if something really freaked me out, I’d go climb in with Sirius.”
Harry snorted then. “There was room in with Sirius?”
James laughed. “That was before he and Remus started… frequenting each other’s beds.”
“Ew!” Harry gasped, laughing harder now, and he swung a pillow over to hit James. James swung one right back, and they devolved into a furious pillow fight.
Eventually, they settled back down, laying amond the pillows with James’s arm back around Harry’s shoulders. Harry felt sleep tugging at his eyes once more.
“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured, shifting slightly and burrowing into the blankets.
James said something in reply, but Harry had already dropped back into a deep, this time undisturbed sleep.
—
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—
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, laughing, as he stepped back a bit to let her and the Weasley’s into the house.
“Mr. Potter, my good fellow,” Ron said, in a very solemn and pompous voice. “Many happy returns. It is truly gratifying to see that you have not managed to get yourself killed in the fourteen hours it’s been since I last saw you.”
“Mr. Weasley,” Harry said, equally as pompously, straightening into an unnaturally stiff posture. “I trust you managed not to get lost as you crossed my spacious estate.”
“Prat!” Ron laughed, dropping the voice. “It’s not as though I’ve spent nearly more time here than at my own house, is it?”
“Course not, that would be ridiculous,” Harry said breezily. “As I assume you’ve brought me presents, I’ll show you through to the dining room, where you can put them.”
“That’s it,” Ron said, throwing his hands up in mock outrage. “Hermione, let’s go, I can’t bear another moment in this greedy git’s presence.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You two are so stupid,” she sighed, heading through to the dining room where she did, in fact, deposit a wrapped parcel. Ron followed suit.
“Hello, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley said kindly, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” harry said, smiling broadly back at her.
The rest of the Weasley’s followed in after her, even Bill and Charlie, since they both had taken some time off work to visit their family. Percy, Fred told him with an eyeroll, had said he was simply much too busy with his work at the Ministry to be able to take time off for something as frivolous as a birthday party.
“Ah, well,” Harry sighed overdramatically. “Make sure you tell him that I’ll never forgive him.”
Fred and George both laughed.
Neville entered next, followed by Luna Lovegood. Luna was the year below them at Hogwarts, and had been visiting Ginny at the Burrow the same time Harry was there. She was extremely eccentric, mildly off-putting, and more odd than anyone Harry had ever met, and he loved it. Harry knew Hermione had a few issues with Luna’s odd views, but the rest of them got on with her just fine.
“Hey, Neville!” Harry said brightly. “Hey, Luna!”
“Oh, hello, Harry,” Luna said, in her usual far-away voice, sounding almost surprised to have found Harry in the entrance hall to his own home. “Happy birthday.”
“Yeah, happy birthday, Harry,” Neville said, grinning.
“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning back. “Just through to the dining room, but we’ll be going outside in a minute.”
Last to arrive was Professor McGonagall. She was quite close to the Potter family, having been very fond of James, Sirius, and Remus at school, and had some sort of a grandmother role for Harry. He’d spent the first ten years of his life knowing her as Minerva, or Minnie, and it had been somewhat of an adjustment when he’d arrived at Hogwarts to remember to call her ‘Professor McGonagall.’
“Minnie!” Harry exclaimed, giving her a tight hug. “I didn’t know you were coming! Dad said you might be too busy at school.”
“I wouldn’t miss your birthday,” Minerva said. “I won’t be able to stay too long, I’m afraid, just for lunch. Albus does need me back at Hogwarts this afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Harry said breezily. “I think we’re heading right outside, Daisy and Pippy have set a picnic up.”
They all moved outside where there was, indeed, a rather large picnic spread on the lawn. The teenagers ate quickly, and then departed to play some Quidditch. Even Neville joined in, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He’d never been the biggest fan of flying.
After a few quick games, they returned to the earth for Harry’s birthday cake and presents. He ended up with a quite impressive pile of interesting books, sweets, and trinkets, although he was more than a little suspicious of the box of sweets Fred and George had given him. Even more so when Ron slipped up to him afterwards.
“I’d save those for someone you’re not fond of,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. “Unless you’d like your tongue to be four feet long…”
Harry gave him a startled look.
“They’ve been inventing all these tricks,” Ron explained, his voice low. “Only don’t tell Mum. She went spare just a few days ago about it, she doesn’t think it’s a good use of their time, but some of them are really clever.”
Harry filed this away as a mental note to not trust anything given to him by the Weasley twins.
Afterwards, they said goodbye to Minerva, who had to return to Hogwarts, and then returned to Quidditch. This time, they were joined by Bill, Charlie, Sirius, Remus, and James. The teams were a bit unbalanced, seeing as how Harry, James, and Sirius were all on one team, but they made do with only two chasers to balance it out. With thirteen of them, they couldn’t make even numbered teams, anyway. Harry even managed to catch the snitch before Charlie, who playing Seeker on the other team. After playing several more games, they all headed back down to the earth.
Neville and Luna left then, along with most of the Weasley’s. Ron was allowed to remain behind with the strict instruction that he Floo home no later than ten, which was when Hermione’s parents would be picking her up.
“Have a good birthday?” Sirius asked, giving Harry a one armed hug.
“Yeah, it was brilliant!” Harry said brightly. “Thanks again for the practice snitch, I’ll get a lot of use out of that!”
“Course, Pronglet,” Sirius said, tousling his hair and making it even messier than it already was.
“You lot hungry for dinner yet?” Remus asked.
Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who both shook there heads slightly. “Nah, we’ll eat in a little bit,” Harry said. “Want to come upstairs?”
Harry, Ron, and hermione headed up to Harry’s room. Harry threw himself onto his bed, Hermione settled into a chair in a corner, and Ron flopped onto the floor.
“Thank you again, you guys,” Harry said. “I’ll last the whole summer off that chocolate, Ron, and that book looks really interesting, Hermione.”
“Of course,” Ron and Hermione said in unison.
James entered the room then, holding a plate of sandwiches and three bottles of butterbeer, which he set on Harry’s desk. Sirius followed with some crisps, and Remus with a plate of fruit.
“I know you said you’re not hungry, but I thought I’d bring these up for you to snack on as you wanted,” James said, nodding to them. “We’re leaving now, Harry, but we’ll be back in a few hours and we can talk about your dream, alright?”
“Yep,” Harry nodded. “Thank you guys, again.”
“Later, Pronglet,” Sirius said.
“Bye, Harry,” Remus said.
James gave Harry a look that clearly said stop worrying, I’m sure it’s nothing. Harry startled a bit, unsure how James knew that Harry was turning the dream over in his mind again, but then realized that he was chewing his bottom lip. According to Remus, that was a sure sign that Harry was fretting over something. Harry stopped immediately. James chuckled lightly, and left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
“What dream?” Hermione asked at once.
“Where are they off to?” Ron said at the same time.
“They have a meeting with Dumbledore,” Harry explained. “Not sure what about, but I know Dad is going to ask him about this dream I had last night.”
Harry explained his dream to his friends. Hermione looked horrified, Ron uncertain.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Harry said much more confidently than he felt. “I’ve always had weird dreams, you know.”
“But about that?” Hermione said, her voice low. “And with your scar hurting… I don’t know, maybe curse scars hurt sometimes? I can look it up in Common Magical Maladies and Injuries, but I’m not sure that this is exactly common…”
“No, it’s not,” Ron said. “And anyway, You-Know-Who can’t have been anywhere near here, can he? I mean, it’s under Fidelius. So unless Padfoot blabs, and we all know there’s no way he will, nobody can get at Harry here.”
The mood felt entirely too dark for Harry. He’d hesitated telling Ron and Hermione for this very reason - he didn’t want them to panic. Looking for a way to lighten them up, Harry casually stretched, reaching his arms off the edge of his bed, towards Ron, who still lay on the floor.
“But still,” Hermione said anxiously. “If You-Know-Who really has joined up with Peter Pettigrew…”
“Harry’s dad is gonna ask Dumbledore, though,” Ron said fairly. “And, yeah, maybe that Philosopher’s Stone business wasn’t his best moment, but it’s not as though he wants Harry dead, so he’ll be able to-OI!”
Ron leapt about a foot in the air. Harry cracked up, attempted to roll over, and fell off the bed, still laughing. Ron was rubbing his foot vigorously - Harry had just tickled the bottom of it.
“What the fuck was that for?” Ron said, trying to look angry and failing. He began to snigger, too.
“Oh, honestly, Harry!” Hermione said, exasperated. “This is serious!”
“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” Harry shrugged. “And if it is, no sense dwelling on it right now. Dad, Moony, and Padfoot are gonna talk to Dumbledore, and if it’s an issue, they’ll tell me later. We don’t have to let it ruin our entire night.”
Hermione was clearly trying to look stern, but her lips were twitching towards a smile, too.
“You’re gonna regret that one, Harry,” Ron said fiercely, leaping at him and trying to catch hold of his foot.
Harry shrieked, grabbing at Hermione to attempt to use her as a human shield, and the three of them devolved into a chaotic battle of tickling and swatting each other.