Belated Birthday Shocks
Harry
The atmosphere at dinner was, for the lack of a better word, tense.
James and Lily were concerned for their friend Sirius, who had yet to show up at their house. It had been two weeks into the holidays already, and he hadn't come over to see them even once. Jéricho and Lyra, too, had been going over to other's houses, not staying at their own place with their father. They claimed that Sirius was under a lot of stress lately, though he wouldn't tell them what about. James had tried to talk to Sirius by going over to his house, but Sirius had subtly kicked him out after some excuses and a cup of tea.
Effie and Monty were concerned for their Uncle Remus, who had yet to return from India. He had been out of the country for too long now, and he should have been back by now. They hadn't heard from him much, but he had said that he might be delayed. Effie and Monty missed their favorite uncle, though.
Charles and Harry sympathized with both sets of worriers, not knowing who to worry about so doing it for both.
Suddenly, the floo roared and Sirius entered in all his glory, followed by his children, who looked confused. James and Lily quickly stood up, but before they could reach Sirius...
"I'm quitting."
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. "What?!" they all chorused.
Sirius was grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I was growing, frankly, tired and bored of my job and travels. Plus, I wasn't able to pay any attention to my children or my friends. Thankfully, I received an appealing offer from Professor Dumbledore and, well, I took it."
James' mouth dropped in horror. "Please don't tell me you took the DADA post! It's cursed."
Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I'm not foolish, James. No, there's now a new post available at Hogwarts... The post of Dueling Instructor. I'll also be teaching basic spell-crafting and warding to fifth years and above, who decide to take them, of course. The exam marks and all won't affect a person's marks and career much, but it's the Ministry's belief that dueling should be taught to second years and above."
"Oh, Merlin!" Lily squeaked as she jumped on Sirius. Soon, everyone was hugging and congratulating him. Harry grinned, "You'll be a great teacher, Siri. But does that mean I'll have to call you Professor Black?"
Sirius just let out a barking laugh.
Charles
Charles plopped on his bed, bored. This year, on top of no trip, he was grounded for the whole summer. Today being his birthday, the ban had been lifted for a single day. Not that it mattered much. Harry had wished him a happy birthday in the morning before going out and Effie and Monty were off doing who-knew-what. He had no one to hang out with because Ron and Hermione had gone to Egypt and Paris respectively for the holidays (The Weasleys had won a lottery). Lyra was still not talking to him.
Suddenly there was a tapping noise and he looked over at his window. When he opened it, three owls soared through, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Charles' 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.
Charles recognized the unconscious owl at once - his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Charles dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.
Charles turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave him an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.
Charles 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. When Charles relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.
Charles sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold. He opened the envelope and two pieces of paper fell out - a letter and a newspaper clipping.
The clipping was from the Daily Prophet. Charles picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:
MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE
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."
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.
Charles 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. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tail, 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, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.
Charles 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. He, of course, had known about this trip well in advance. He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it.
Dear Charles,
Happy birthday!
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.
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.
Charles remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when Elvendor, whom 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?
Ron
P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week.
Charles glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He 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.
Charles now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. He knew what it was. A Pocket Sneakoscope. If there was someone untrustworthy around, it was supposed to light up and spin.
Charles 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 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 Charles,
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? - but then thankfully Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday from me. 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), 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.
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.
Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it to Diagon too? I'll see you later!
Love from Hermione
P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased, but Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.
Charles laughed as he put Herrmone'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 - but it wasn't. He grinned broadly as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit. His old one was, well, old.
Charles 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. 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.
Charles 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. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs, and whatnot!
Charles poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. He reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.
And out fell - a book. Charles 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," he muttered.
The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Charles followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Charles got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.
"Ouch!"
The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Charles scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Hedwig and Errol watched in interest as he 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, so Charles threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.
Dear Charles,
Happy Birthday!
Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you. Hope you're having fun.
All the best, Hagrid
It struck Charles as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but he put Hagrid's card up next to Ron's and Hermione's. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.
Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Charles 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
Charles pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, grinning so broadly his jaw hurt. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he had never set foot there because his parents didn't want to ruin the surprise.
Lyra
The tension between Charles and Lyra was palpable in the air the morning after Charles' birthday at breakfast. In an effort to lessen it, Sirius asked, "When will Moony be back?"
"Today, most probably," Lily told him. "He was held back."
Suddenly, Sirius froze, as stiff as a statue. He was reading the Daily Prophet, and his face was expressionless and extremely pale. James frowned in concern. "You okay, mate?"
Sirius just wordlessly handed him and Lily the Prophet, and they both froze, too. Harry and Charles stood up to read over their shoulders and inhaled sharply, and Lyra also stood up, wondering what was so horrible.
BLACK AT LARGE
Regulus Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it-who'd believe him if he did?"
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
Lyra looked, horrified, into the shadowed eyes of Regulus Black, her uncle, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. He, with his waxy white skin, looked just like a vampire.
Sirius stood up from his chair and left, James following him immediately. "What is it?" Jéricho asked with a frown.
Lyra exchanged a look with Harry and Charles and gulped. "Regulus Black escaped Azkaban."
Jéricho immediately froze. "W-what?"
Lyra didn't know what to do or say. Sirius was the father Jéricho had always known, even though it was no secret that he was the biological son of Regulus Black, Sirius' brother. She wasn't sure what to call Regulus. What he really was to Jéricho now...
But as the boy walked out in an emotional turmoil - with Harry following him - Lyra turned to Lily. "You knew about this."
It wasn't a question; just a fact. Lily sighed and nodded. "The news broke out a week ago, and James was one of the first people to find out. We were worried that this was the reason for Sirius being so preoccupied, but then yesterday we realized he didn't know yet. We didn't know how to break it to him and Ech gently."
"He murdered thirteen people?" Effie asked, handing the page back to Charles, "with one curse?"
"Yeah," Lyra nodded grimly. "In front of witnesses and all. Broad daylight."
"Who was he?" Monty innocently asked.
Lily replied, "A Death Eater. Very close to Voldemort, they say. He was a Black, so that's expected. Anyway, months before that Halloween night, they cornered him in the middle of a street full of Muggles, dueling with Barty Crouch Jr., another Death Eater. I knew them both at school and they used to be best friends, so I don't know exactly what happened to make them fight, but... Regulus suddenly blasted half the street apart, and thirteen muggles and Crouch were all killed. Regulus was taken away. They had a job covering it up. Blamed it on a gas explosion."
The children's eyes were wide. Effie timidly asked, "He's Sirius' brother, isn't he?"
Lily nodded, sadness etched in her face. "They were never very close, but... yes. Sirius tried to take Reg with him when he ran away, but the foolish boy wouldn't come. He was far too deep in dark magic by then. And when we found out he'd become a death eater... Sirius was very upset. They loved each other, even though they didn't particularly like each other... I was a sort of friend of his, too. He was quite soft, and he used to talk to me sometimes, only in secret. I couldn't believe it when I heard..."
Lily sniffed. "Well, doesn't matter now. Jéricho is his biological son, yes, but he was given to Sirius after Reg's imprisonment."
"Who's his, uh, biological mother?" Charles asked.
Lily shrugged. "Unknown. He wasn't married, that's for sure."
"Huh."