This story is dedicated to everyone who had a feeling that the story of Harry Potter ended a teeny-tiny bit too fast.
And since English is not my native language, please be harsh with my spelling and grammar. Cheers!
Oh, what a birthday, thought Harry, lying down on the bed and still seeing visions from the party of his eighteenth birthday, which seemed to want to repeat again and again in his mind, until his smile will be spread wide from ear to ear.
In the Burrow, through the window of the small bedroom on the fifth floor streamed in the fragrant summer air, fully saturated with the dizzy aroma of night flowers tended by Mrs. Weasley. The evening was particularly nice, the last rays of the sun disappearing behind the horizon and the moonlight beginning to glow over the Burrow, which were especially friendly with him today, giving him the truest and the most wonderful birthday in his life. When Harry thought about it – even more wonderful birthday could only be his eleventh one when he did learn he is a wizard.
Anyway, all the events of today were still fresh in his mind; how Ron and Hermione, and especially Ginny, together with other guests sang to him “Happy Birthday”, while Mrs. Weasley was floating to the dinner table an enormous multistory whipped cream and sponge cake mountain decorated with summer berries, which only for the sake of clarity could be called a birthday cake. Obviously, Mrs. Weasley had overcome herself by preparing a birthday meal to feed all the guests, along with all Weasley children and Hermione Neville and Luna were also invited. And there of course was also invited Harry’s little godson with his grandmother.
Oh boy – and the birthday presents! Harry raised his gaze, looking over at the stack of gifts piling on the table. Ron had given him a new Sneakoscope: “Let’s hope that we will never hear this thing whistling again.” He got a new wristwatch from Ginny. “And just try me to be late on the dates!” she jokingly had warned the birthday boy. From Neville after his grandmother’s advice Harry received a Raylight – a special lantern which lit with light charm could illuminate even the deepest corners of the darkest room – so to speak, evil never sleeps, and who knows when a ray of light could come in handy. In the Teddy’s stroller Harry found his godson’s – or rather his grandmother’s Andromeda’s – gift of plump dragon skin gloves, then from Bill and Fleur he had a book of Magical Protection. “If you are seriously thinking going through the Auror training courses, then this one could be quite handy to you,” Ginny’s elder brother had said, smiling. Even Charlie had arrived and brought him three chocolate dragon eggs. “A Romanian product, these are very popular among locals – if you are lucky, a miniature dragon could hatch from the egg which, according to local stories will raise your financial status,” such was a behest from dragon friend Charlie, whose gift far outweighed the heavy pack of Chocolate Frogs from Percy. George – what a surprise – gave him a whole box with Weasley Wizard Wheezes stuff, and Arthur and Molly had gifted him new eyeglasses, made in Germany. Mr. Weasley had explained to him: “For the first time when you will put on your new glasses, say Anfang, then you will be able to adjust the sharpness of your vision, and when you find it well-adjusted say Fertig.” Luna perhaps gave him the most incomprehensible and meaningless gift – something similar to Muggle dream catcher, but with something like ear trumpets. As Luna explained this thing may be able to detect Nargles, so it’s an immensely useful thing. Whatever it was, Harry had hanged it over the head of his bed, on the recommendation of his friend. Tonight, his sleep wouldn’t be disturbed nor by Nargles, neither Blibbering Humdingers nor any other fiddle-faddle. To his surprise even more absurd than Luna’s gift was given him by Hermione – it was an ordinary blank diary. “Harry, memories are valuable beyond measure, so I wish for you to never forget anything you went through because your life experience is what makes you such a great person and friend.”
Her wish was absolutely beautiful and he could almost agree to it, unless the survived pain in the last year wouldn’t be so great – so many good and dear people were killed – Fred, Tonks and Remus also should be here today. Many other families also had mourned their relatives who had fallen into the battle. But the dead have been resting in peace under the ground for a few months now, received the tears of their loved ones, and Harry was comforting himself with the idea that their death was not in vain. These heroic people died to put an end to Voldemort’s terror, so the rest of the world could finally live in peace and safety, therefore Harry let himself to enjoy his happy birthday because Voldemort has been defeated and it was time to build a new world of happiness and harmony.
And what could go wrong? I hope that the worst in my life I have already endured, Harry thought drifting into the peaceful world of dreams in which he still played Quidditch in the backyard of the Weasley family house. Neville, Hermione, Fleur and Percy were sitting at the table with the elderly guests, but Luna had wanted try to play with them, so Ron had gone to the barn to bring one of the old broomsticks and helped her to climb on it. Harry in his dreams saw again how their game went – this time he caught the apple thrown by Ron, but after a moment when the game had become much faster George unintentionally hit Luna in the forehead with another apple, and she had to sit down on the bench. Luckily she wasn’t seriously hurt – it was just a bump. “There’s such a saying that there’s no party without punch,” Luna said, smiling at Harry and then with a flick of her wand she cast a cooling charm on her forehead. Weasley brothers continued to play the Quidditch game with Harry and Ginny until they were exhausted. But they weren’t tired enough for some more jokes. As usual, the biggest prankster was George who caught some gnomes and conjured on their head glowing caps and let them run through the garden as huge garden lamps. “Gerroff me, gerroff me!” they were calling, trying to get off from themselves the shiny, hostile thing, while Harry and others were still laughing, holding their bellies as George charmed yet another gnome. However the most interest in the glowing gnome heads showed Crookshanks. Harry saw in his dreams how the Hermione’s red cat is stealing after one of the shining dwarf heads, slowly, easy, step by step tail plucked to the ground, then – hop – the cat jumped to the gnome, but suddenly the cat landed not in the Weasley garden, but rather in a dark basement, moreover, it seemed that after the blink of an eye the cat itself was disappeared into thin air.
The feeling of the dream suddenly shifted from the fragrant, sultry evening to something completely different – it changed to a cold, dull, all-forgotten cellar, which induced unpleasant chills along his spine, as if it was more than just a dream, as if there was something more than just darkness. Then out of nowhere spoke a voice, it seemed so inconceivable, as if it wasn’t a real voice but only a plain uncertain thought.
“I am suffocating in this dark dungeon, but with you my friend I will once again reach my greatness – maybe I will become greater than ever, and this time no one will stop me, not even the famous Potter. I’m still alive. And everyone will be so wrong who could have imagined that one green sprout could defeat me – me, Lord Voldemort! Hahaha!”
When shrilled the dark and icy laughter, Harry sat up in his bed, his body trembling all over and he shot his hand to his forehead. Wet with cold sweat, he looked around, but in the fragrant, bright night there was nothing more than the moon, the silence, and some more glowing gnomes. Only the old scar was lightly throbbing as foretelling something ominous.
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