Harry, Ron and Ginny spent the rest of the afternoon outside, chattering and playing games. At some point Ron complained about the letters he had received from Hermione, saying that he couldn't believe she was going on and on about schoolwork and baffled at her exclamation that she missed Hogwarts" extensive library the most in summer.

"You've got to be kidding me, right?" Ron huffed while he lay on his back in the shadow of a large tree just at the edge of the garden. After they were done with their last game of Exploding Snap, they had decided to move out of the hot sun and planted themselves under the tree. "How could she even say she misses the library the most, it's one of the most boring places in the castle!"

Harry stifled a laugh, "Not for her, you know Hermione."

"Well, yeah but why must she pester me about homework in every single letter she sends me? Have you started yet Harry?"

Harry shook his head. Of course he couldn't have, with his school supplies locked up in his trunk and out of his reach. But he wasn't going to tell Ron that.

"Me neither, mate."

"Well that's probably why she tells you to in all her letters, Ron, because she knows you won't start on your own." Ginny teased him.

"Well, have you finished your homework then?"

"Of course I have," Ginny said smugly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Ron crossed his arms as well, but let the topic of homework go. It never was his favourite subject and the longer they talked about it, the more it affected his mood.

"I'm just saying, of all the things she misses about school, she could have said she misses the common room, or the food in the Great Hall, or..."

"or you?" Ginny said slyly.

Ron's cheeks and ears reddened at that but he seemed to recover quickly.

"Well, yeah, I guess she could have said she misses her classmates. I know I do."

Ginny shot Harry a knowing look at that, but Harry was not entirely sure what it meant. Why would it matter to Ron what Hermione missed most about school?

Apparently done with the topic of Hermione, Ron changed it to talk about Quidditch, wondering aloud what kind of strategies all the teams would go for this year to win the cup. They sat there talking for a while longer, until they were called in for dinner.

In the kitchen Harry shook hands with Mr. Weasley, who had just come home from his work at the Ministry of Magic.

"Great to see you again, Harry. Molly informed me you will be staying until tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "Good to see you too sir."

They sat at the table and Harry was presented with Mrs. Weasley's amazing cooking skills once more and dove right in. While he ate and listened to the conversations going around, and occasionally taking part in them, he could hardly remember having ever felt more content. His day had started out so gloomily, but it turned out to be one of the best days he had had in a long time. Not that anything spectacular had happened to make it special, but it was the fact that he was surrounded by people who loved him, truly loved him, for who he was. Harry, not the boy who lived, not the so-called "saviour of the wizarding world". Just him and he felt immensely grateful for it. Of course the sunny day and the great food helped brighten his mood as well, he laughed inwardly.

And so, when the time had come to retire upstairs and climb in bed with a muttered "good night" to Ron, he was absolutely certain he would suffer no nightmares this night. With that heartening thought, he let his eyes fall closed and drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

--

"Good thing I didn't send this off with Pig yet" Ron retrieved a parcel from his wardrobe and went up to Harry to sit on the end of his bed. Harry had woken up an hour or so ago, but he felt so peaceful and well-rested that he didn't want to get up yet. Instead he relaxed on his back, his hands under his head and listened to Ron's soft snoring until he woke up as well.

Ron handed Harry the parcel and said "Happy birthday, mate."

"Thanks Ron," Harry grinned at him and went to open his gift.

Inside was a small ball that kind of looked like a snitch, but is was silver instead of gold. He picked it up and held it up to his eye level to inspect more closely.

"It's a dummy snitch," Ron explained, "it is used for practicing, even or especially when you're not up in the air."

At this the silver snitch suddenly sprouted wings and flew across the bedroom to hover just above Ron's bed. Ron caught Harry's eye and waved at it with a grin.

Harry jumped up and tried to catch it, but his fingers only caught air as the silver snitch flew away quickly towards the closed bedroom door. Ron tried to catch it as well but only managed to crash his body against the door with a groan. Harry laughed at him, but saw his chance and intercepted the snitch on its way to the opposite end of the bedroom. They both ended up on the floor laughing at their own antics.

The door opened and Ginny appeared, looking at them with raised eyebrows.

"What is all this ruckus? It sounded like someone fell down the stairs"

Ron wiped tears from his eyes and pointed at the silver snitch in Harry's hand.

"Ah so you gave him his present then," Ginny said, "I'll get mine too."

She returned with a rectangular parcel which she handed to Harry with a smile. "Happy Birthday, Harry". 

He unwrapped it and saw that it was a dictate quill, one you could talk to and it would write out what you said. Harry smiled gratefully at Ginny.

"Thanks Ginny, this will come in handy."

Ginny beamed up at him and seemed to hesitate about something. Apparently having made up her mind she took a step forward and enveloped Harry in a hug.

"You're welcome, Harry," she said, though her voice was a bit muffled from the close proximity to his chest.

She let go without looking at him and went out the door. They heard her call from the hallway "oh, mom said breakfast's ready," before the sound of her footsteps died down.

Harry looked at Ron questioningly, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders.

"Told you she was mental."

Downstairs Harry was met with the smell of breakfast and immediately felt his mouth water. When he entered the kitchen Mrs. Weasley came at him and gave him a motherly hug.

"Happy birthday, dear," she said as she let go and tussled his hair affectionately.

Mr. Weasley clasped him on his back and congratulated him as well, before they all sat down and had breakfast together.

Later that day Fred and George arrived and they had brought a box of products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that kept them entertained all afternoon. Harry couldn't remember having laughed so hard in a long time, as Ron walked around with donkey ears after having eaten one of the twins" selection of chocolates. It was even funnier when they went out in the garden to play Quidditch together and Ron's ears flapped in the wind.

At some point during the day an owl brought him a present and a letter from Hermione, in which she said she was sorry she could not be there as well but wishing him the happiest of birthdays. Unsurprisingly, the parcel contained a book but he was grateful for it and immediately wrote her a reply.

After dinner, which was delicious as always, they settled down around the hearth in the sitting room. Ron, Harry, Fred and George sat on the couches, while Mrs. Weasley sat in an armchair braiding Ginny's hair who sat on the floor in front of her.

Mr. Weasley came in with a birthday cake and made Harry blow out the candles before handing everyone a piece.

Harry felt so happy at that moment, surrounded by his friends and eating an actual birthday cake that was made especially for him. It was definitely the best birthday he had ever had. He felt that nothing would be able to ruin that happy feeling.

He was wrong. So wrong.

The hearth flared alive and Harry looked up, expecting to see Remus step out to join them. Instead he saw long, pitch-black robes, long black hair and dark eyes that took in the room with a scowl.

"Severus!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as he stood up in surprise.

"Where's Remus?" Harry dared to ask after he had overcome his initial shock of seeing the Potions Master instead of his werewolf friend.

Snape glared at him.

"Lupin", he drawled out, "is otherwise engaged."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked boldly, not wanting to let his voice reveal the worry he felt for Remus. Did something happen? He couldn't have gone on a mission right? Not after Dumbledore ordered him to pick Harry up the next day.

"It means, Potter, that he is presently unable to accompany you to headquarters, which means that this dreadful task, regrettably, falls upon me." Snape sneered at him, daring him to ask any more stupid questions.

Harry wanted to reply that this was not at all an answer to his question, but remained silent as Mr. Weasley and Snape conversed quietly with one another. Mrs. Weasley nudged him to go and get his stuff.

Ron followed him upstairs, fuming for his friend.

"Just what is his problem? Dumbledore specifically said Remus would pick you up. What is that old bat doing in here?"

"I dunno," Harry replied as he picked up yesterdays" clothes from the unmade bed. "You don't think something happened to Remus, do you?"

Ron looked up and frowned, not having thought of that possibility. He shook his head after a few seconds.

"Nah, Remus is though, he can handle himself. Besides, he probably had some inane business to attend to. No way Dumbledore could have sent him on a mission between last night and now."

Harry nodded at that, feeling a little relieved. Yeah, of course Remus would be fine. Nothing to worry about.

He finished packing and Ron helped him to get his trunk downstairs. They met Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and she shrunk Harry's trunk for him. Harry was grateful for this as he couldn't imagine having to ask Snape to do it for him. He put his shrunken trunk in the pocket of his jeans before turning to Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley, for everything."

"Oh nonsense, Harry," she said as she enveloped him in a big hug, "It's no bother at all."

Harry smiled at her as she let go of him and turned to Ron and Ginny.

"I wish you could stay, Harry," Ron said.

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied and tried to lighten the mood, "Just promise to write to me!"

"Count on that, mate. We still have Slytherin's tactic to speculate about!"

Ginny said nothing but smiled sadly at him.

They went to the sitting room where Mr. Weasley held a leftover piece of birthday cake loosely in his hand, looking a bit defeated. Harry imagined he had offered it to Snape, but this brought up such a weird scene in his mind that he had to stifle a laugh. Snape turned to him as he came forward.

"Are you quite finished here? Unlike you, I have much more valuable things to do with my time." Snape turned towards the fireplace without waiting for an answer and held out the floo powder.

"You first, Potter."

Harry looked back at his friends and said his goodbyes. With a sigh he took a handful of floo powder and stated his destination, before stepping into the hearth and was engulfed in green flames.

--

Next thing he knew he stumbled into the dark drawing room of Grimmauld Place. He dusted the soot off his clothes and looked around, feelings of dread and sadness creeping up from his unconscious. The house was still as dark as ever, but this time there was also an ear deafening silence. No Sirius to come and greet him this time. The thought depressed him more than he was willing to admit to himself so he shook his head violently, hoping to rid it of the memories this way.

A moment later Snape also stepped out of the fireplace, albeit with a lot more grace than Harry had. Without acknowledging Harry, he swiftly walked out of the drawing room. With a shrug Harry went after him. It was time to get his question answered properly.

He found Snape in the kitchen. The man was pouring tea in a cup and had his back turned to him.

Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence, even though he was almost certain that Snape knew he was there already. The man was uncomfortably perceptive.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with Remus, now?" Harry said. When Snape threw him a deadly glare over his shoulder he quickly added "sir?"

"No, Potter," Snape simply said as he added something to his tea that Harry couldn't see. He didn't think Snape would be one for sugary drinks.

"Why not? Don't you think I have a right to know?" Harry said heatedly, annoyed that all the adults in his life somehow shared the same mission of not telling him anything.

"I do not see any reason to. What right, pray tell, do you believe to have?"

"Remus is my..." Harry faltered. What was Remus exactly? His thoughts returned to the night before.
"Friend. He is my friend and I have the right to know if something bad happened to him."

Snape finally turned around and sneered at him.

"I do not qualify your relationship to the werewolf as important enough to reveal to you any vital Order information. Especially as that information might fall into the wrong hands," Snape said and strode towards the door where Harry stood, tea cup in hand. He stopped just outside the door, next to Harry who didn't move an inch. With a look of loathing he said over his shoulder "After all, one never knows what a child such as yourself would do with that information. One might even consider it a risk for the lives of others." 

With that he left, robes billowing after him.

Harry felt as if someone had struck him in the face. He thought he actually felt the throbbing of his cheek from yesterday's blow. He slid down the kitchen wall and sat down on the floor, head bowed.

He tried to find fault in Snape's words, tried to find something to cling to that would keep the anguish at bay. But there really wasn't anything now, was there? It all rang true. He had been careless with the information he had last term, even though it was fake information. He should have gone about it differently. He should have informed an adult and trusted them to...

But he had done just that, right? He had informed Snape of the vision. And even though it was a cryptic message, due to the presence of Dolores Umbridge, he knew Snape must have understood him perfectly. Why had Snape not done more? Why did Snape not go after him to help out if he was on the Order's side. He ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that it was all still his responsibility and his choice to go to London and put all of his friends in danger. And ultimately caused the death of his godfather...  No, it felt good to be angry at Snape. It would focus his thoughts and helped not to let guilt overwhelm him. Yes, Snape was to blame for a large part of it. And Harry would be angry at him for it.

With his jumbled thoughts finally in order, he stood up and went to the bedroom that he and Ron had occupied last summer. He was spent and wanted nothing more than flop down on his bed and drift off into nothingness.

When he sat down on the bed he felt something poke him. He shoved his hand in his pocket and took out his shrunken trunk. He had forgotten about it and now felt stupid at the belated realisation. Nothing I can do about that now, he thought. He definitely was not going to Snape to ask for him to unshrink it. The thought to ask the vile man anything made him sick to his stomach.

Seeing as he was still underage and therefore not allowed to do any magic outside of school, he set the tiny trunk on his nightstand and lay down on the bed fully clothed. He took off his glasses and closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the crushing silence in the house as it reminded him of the last owner and he didn't want to feel that sadness anymore. He wanted that empty feeling of not having to care anymore. But he couldn't not care and it scared him.

With that last thought and a mental  image of Sirius whispering "Happy birthday" in his ear, he fell into a fitful sleep.