“Harry!  Harry!”

“Yeh, Mrs. Weasley?”

“You have some owls down here.”

“‘Kay!”  Harry turned to look at Niamh and Ron, who were sitting on Ron’s bed.  “Why would I ‘ave owls?”

Ron shrugged but Niamh gasped and said, “Your birthday, Harry!  That was yesterday!  31st of July.”

Harry blinked then nodded.  “Yer righ’, Ni.  I forgot wi’ everyt’ing.  Le’s go see wha’ the owls brough’.”

Ron and Niamh leapt up and the three of them clambered down the stairs.  The owls had come in through the kitchen window and dropped their parcels on the table before they swooped out again.  Ginny was sitting at the table, peering at a rather long parcel a large screech owl had brought in.  Harry blinked at all the presents then reached out for one of the parcels.  Hermione’s neat handwriting ran across it and he grinned, opening it.

“Whoa,” said Niamh from where she peeked around his shoulder.  “That’s a really rare book.”

“What is it?” asked Ginny.

Ron read the title from over Harry’s other shoulder.  “Curses: From Light to Dark.”  Mrs. Weasley turned to look at him.

“What was that?”

“A book ‘n hexes an’ curses, Mrs. Weasley.  Ni and me like ter learn abou’ ‘em.”

Mrs. Weasley arched an eyebrow at Harry and Niamh then said, “As long as you don’t use them.”

“Only against Malfoy,” muttered Niamh as Harry reached for the long parcel.  He ripped the paper aside and gasped.  Ron and Niamh did the same.

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

Niamh breathed, “A Nimbus 2001.”

“Someone must really like you, mate,” gasped Ron.

Harry nodded numbly then picked up the small piece of parchment that had come along with the broom.  He read it, noting that Niamh and Ron were doing the same over his shoulders.

A broom for you as you have none.  Be careful with it and make sure you win.

Signed, a concerned Slytherin

Ron gaped.  “A Slytherin sent you that?”

Niamh and Harry promptly glared at him and he snapped his mouth shut.  Harry looked at the note again then at the broom.

“Who would ‘ave sent me this?”

Niamh shrugged and said, “None of the Slyth’s would.  Most of them have their heads shoved too far up Malfoy or Flint’s asses.”

“Niamh!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but it’s the truth.”

“Well, I’ll have none of that language in my house.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry shook his head then frowned.  “So who…?”

“Snape?” suggested Ron.  “He’s head of Slytherin House and Hermione thinks he may have been a Slytherin himself.”

“He was,” said Mrs. Weasley as she began to fix dinner.  “A first year when I was a seventh year.  Awfully smart but shy.  From what I heard he hung out with the wrong crowd.  Except for one.”  She turned and continued, “Your mother, in fact, Harry.”

Harry blinked.  “’E knew me mum?”

“Yes.  They were in the same year.”

Harry blinked then looked down at the broom in his hands then to Jardin, who was perched on the mantle in the living room, asleep.  He wondered…

“Harry, c’mon.  I think this one’s mine.  I’m sure I sent it to you…”

Harry turned back to the table and the presents and finished opening them.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Alright you lot.  Now, you know what you have to get, so get it.  And Fred, George, don’t you dare set foot in Knockturn Alley!”

“We will, Mum!”

“George!”

“Calm down, woman.  We swear we won’t take a peek into Diagon Alley.”

“Knockturn Alley!”

“Yeah, that’s it!”

Mrs. Weasley sighed and muttered, “I don’t know why I bother,” before walking off with Ginny and Mr. Weasley in tow, leaving Ron, Harry, and Niamh on the steps of Gringotts.  Harry was still trying to get soot off his shirt from when he had taken a wrong turn on the Floo network and ended up in Knockturn Alley.  He had been tempted to linger when he had seen Malfoy and apparently his father in a shop but had been found by Hagrid.  Niamh frowned and grabbed his shirt, savagely rubbing the spot out.  As she did, she growled, “What are we waiting for?”

“Hermione,” replied Ron.  “She wrote me and we agreed to meet here.”

“Ah.  There you go, Harry.  Spotless once more.”

Harry rubbed at the shirt where she had stretched it then looked up as a mass of bushy brown hair bounded up into him.

“Harry!”

“Nice ter see ye too, Mione,” choked Harry as Hermione hugged him.  “Ow, ow.  Ow!”

Hermione jumped back, brown eyes wide.  “What happened?”

Harry rubbed his back, where she had squeezed one of the half-healed bruises a bit too hard.  He said, “Explain later.  Le’s go ge’ our t’ings.”

“Okay,” agreed the other three and they were off.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A half-hour later they were pushing their way through a crowd into Flourish and Blott’s towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.  Harry frowned at a poster Hermione held in her hands.  A cheerfully smiling man with blond hair and mauve robes winked up at them from it.  Harry sneered at it then asked, “Why are ye carryin’ tha’ around?”

Hermione blushed and stuttered, “W-w-well…”

“She fancies him,” said Niamh cheerfully.

“Niamh!”

“Fancy?  HIM?”  Harry looked incredulously at the poster.  The far too cheerful man was beginning to give him a headache with his winking.  “Who in the sodding ‘eck is i?”

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” spat Niamh.  “Supposed to be an Obliviator according to my copy of Aurors of the Centuries.  Pah.  Obliviator my ass.”

“Niamh!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Quite alright, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, patting her hair.  “Oh, we’ll be able to see him in a few moments…”

And she was right.  The crowd moved and they got a clear view of Gilderoy Lockhart, blond and grinning, surrounded by winking pictures of himself and signing books.

“It can’t be…  Harry Potter!”

Harry groaned and attempted to duck down behind Niamh but Lockhart had already spotted him.  Lockhart pulled him forward and held him tightly about the shoulders, smiling cheerfully for a man with a camera that was billowing purple smoke.  Harry coughed and tried to pull away from Lockhart.  When he couldn’t, he smiled evilly.  If he couldn’t get away from Lockhart, he might as well make the position worthwhile…

As Lockhart finished some silly speech and thrust a pile of his books into Harry’s arms, he finally got away, tucking his prize into his pocket.  Staggering over to Ginny, Harry tipped the books into her cauldron.

“‘Ere.  I c’n buy me own.”

Ginny blushed and said, “Thanks, Harry.”

“No trouble, Gin.”

“Harry!” hissed Niamh.  “Did you hear?”

“Wha’?”

“What that Lockhart said?”

“I was busy.”

“Doing wha….  Nevermind, I don’t want to know.  Actually, I do but don’t tell me yet.”

“I was’n plannin’ to.”

“Evil little bastard.”

“Ni.  Wha’ did ‘e say?”

“He’s going to be teaching us DADA!”

“WHAT!!”

“Oh, she’s not going to marry you, Potter?  Such a pity.”

Harry didn’t even have to look to know who it was.  He and Niamh both turned at the same time, teeth bared.

“Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.  “The one and only.”

Niamh snarled, “What do you want, scumbag?”

“Ooo, such a big word for a lowly little Mudblood like you.”

Harry growled and grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, Potter.”

“Why?”

“Because my father just so happens to be right behind you.”

Harry released Draco then turned to look up into Lucius Malfoy’s face.  He wasn’t surprised to see the man looked almost exactly like Draco.

“‘Ello, Mr. Malfoy.  ‘Ow are ye?”

Lucius sneered at him then spotted the Weasley’s, who had also spotted him.

“Arthur.”

“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley.

Lucius picked up one of Ginny’s books, a rather battered Charms I book.  “A third-rate copy.  Just what I expecting from Muggle-loving scum.”

Mr. Weasley’s face darkened and a moment later he had ploughed into Mr. Malfoy.

“Arthur, no!”

“Go, Dad!” yelled Fred and George, who had just arrived.

Niamh whispered to Harry, “A Galleon says Mr. Weasley gets in a punch before Malfoy.”

“Deal!”

A few moments later…

“Ow.  Encyclopedia of Toadstools right in the eye.  One point for Mr. Weasley!”

“Damn.  I jus’ lost a Galleon.”

“Too bad for you.”

“Bet on who ge’s firs’ blood?”

“Okay.  Mr. Weasley!”

“Malfoy.”

“What?”

“Trus’ me.”

A few more moments later…

“Ha ha!  Ye owe me a Galleon, Ni!”

“Damn!”

“Break it up, gents!”

Hagrid plowed into the crowd and pulled Mr. Weasley and Lucius apart.  Lucius thrust the Charms book at Ginny and snarled, “Here, girl.  It’s the best your father can get you.  Come, Draco.”

As they swept out of the store, Hagrid turned to Mr. Weasley and said, “Yer shouldn’t let him get ter ye, Arthur.  Bad blood that family.”

Mr. Weasley brushed his hand over his lip, which was sporting blood, and said, “I know.”

“Arthur, how could you?  And in front of the children!”

Harry shook his head then nearly fell over when he heard Lockhart asking a reporter if he could put that into his story.  Niamh actually did fall over, only stopping because Harry caught her.  As they left Flourish and Blott’s, she muttered, “What an idiot,” before handing a Galleon over to Harry.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry Potter, you will tell me right now what you are grinning so much about!”

Harry looked calmly up at Niamh from the book on curses Hermione had given him for his birthday.  He arched an eyebrow and asked, “Abou’ what?”

The four of them (Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Niamh) were all up in Ron’s room.  Hermione and Harry were staying for the rest of the summer and Niamh had convinced her aunt to let her as well.

“C’mon, Harrrreeeeeeey!  Please?”

< Please tell her, Harry.  Her whining is annoying me. >

“Jardin!” shrieked Niamh.

The raven smirked mentally then began to preen his wings.  Harry sighed and grumbled, “Alrigh’, alrigh’,” closing his book and sitting it down beside him.

“Yay!” cried Niamh and bounced up and down, clapping.

Ron looked at her like she was crazy then turned to Harry and asked, “What exactly is she talking about?”

Harry grinned mischievously and reached into his pocket, pulling out a large mauve pouch.  He said proudly, “Be’old.  Lock’art’s…”

“..purse?” injected Niamh.

Jardin made a strange sound and Ron burst out laughing.

Hermione looked up from her book then snapped, “Harry!  How could you?”

“Wha’?  Pickpocket i’?  Mione, I may na live on the stree’s anymore, but tha’ does’n mean I can’na use me stree’ skills.”

“That’s still wrong.”

Niamh rolled her eyes then turned back to the…purse.  Smiling, she said, “Open it.”

Harry opened the bag and spilled its contents onto the bed.  Ron and Niamh bounced up onto the bed with Harry while Hermione wandered over and stood.

Niamh picked up a robin’s egg blue comb and curled her lip at it.  “Ick.  I hate that color.”

Harry blinked at the comb then poked through the stuff, coming up with a wad of pictures.

“Oi, ‘e ‘as a picture o’ himself.”

Ron arched an eyebrow and Niamh muttered, “Self-loving prat,” earning a frown from Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes at all three of them then began to look through the pictures.

“Dear bloody gods…”

“What is it, Harry?”

“’E’s got a picture o’ Professor Snape in here!”

Niamh and Ron looked at each other then back at Harry, who was still staring at the picture.  Ron gave a little shake and then Niamh said, “I just had a thought.  Why would Lockhart have Professor Snape’s picture?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other then it clicked.  Both of them made faces and yelled, “Blearg!!”

Ron looked at Niamh and said, “Niamh, that’s gross.”

“Yes, I know.  Poor Professor Snape.”

“Poor Snape?  What about poor me?  I just got that picture in my head!”

Niamh gave him a Look.

Harry laughed at the both of them then left them to go through Lockhart’s things, taking his book and going over to sit on his cot in Ron’s room.