Slowly floating up through the warm, pillowy, darkness of sleep into an equally cosy nest of duvet covers and blankets was one of Harry’s favourite the “Wrens’ Nest”

No one shrieked at him to get up, nor was Harry ever disturbed by the thumping of feet and doors, like he was in Gryffindor tower; Severus, the only early riser, drifted around the house as silently as a piece of thistledown.

Yes, it was a very nice change indeed to be gently drawn from his slumber by only the birdsong and the sunshine on his face. Harry stretched out, taking a deep breath; the savory scent of pasty wafted in the warm, summer air.

Suddenly, a smooth, soft head butted into the back of Harry’s hand.

“Hedwig?!”

The snowy owl bobbed her head, golden eyes glinting. Beside her, were two parcels, one of which was very bulky. Harry peered at the address; it was from The Burrow.

“Wonder why they sent it with you, Hedwig? Perhaps it was too big for Pig.”

*Ssssssstupid noisy-sharpbeak bounced off nest-sssshell*

Harry turned to see Nagini coiling around the bed-head.

*Twittery, twittery, zoom, zoomy, zoom. Wanted to bite egg-biter but white-sharpbeak ssssaid no. Noisy gave prey to White. Flew off. Good riddance.*

Harry grinned, smoothing Hedwig’s snowy wings. Seems like the old girl liked Pig after all. Or didn’t hate him enough to let Nagini make him her breakfast.

“Thanks, girl.” *Thank you Nagini*

*Nagini understands two leg hissing.* Nagini hissed loftily.

Grinning, Harry slid his legs out of bed and, after swiftly exchanging pyjamas for a polo-neck and jeans, grabbed his friends’ gifts and hurried downstairs.

When Harry entered the kitchen, he was met with a scene which resonated powerfully with his thoughts of yesterday evening.

By the sink, Lily squeezed blood oranges; their hue reflected in her fiery hair, which she had gathered into a bun using a silver and emerald comb. The square stones were the same bright, fresh green as her dress and heeled shoes; Harry felt a rush of love when he realised that his tom-boyish Mum had dressed up for his birthday.

Beside the Aga, Snape, was pulling out a tray of freshly-made croissants, jerking them away from the boisterous dog bouncing at his heels. And, at the table, upon which brightly wrapped presents had been piled around a huge bunch of sunflowers, Tom leant on his arm, half- asleep, his raven curls lapping against the white tablecloth like a midnight sea.

“Happy Birthday, Harry” Lily called, walking over and thumping the a big glass jug of juice on the table.

Tom stirred. “What timeizzit?”

“Time for breakfast, father” Severus replied, a smile warming his dark eyes.

Blinking, Harry stared at Snape; he was so changed from the Potions Master of old. A sudden dart of anger pierced Harry’s heart, flaring into his eyes; just how much damage had Dumbledore’s lies done to Snape.

“Harry, you okay?” Tom asked, his crimson eyes concerned.

“Oh, yeah. I was just thinking, y’know. Dumbledore…” Harry trailed off. He didn’t want to talk about that, not today.

“Yes,” Tom’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll get his comeuppance, Harry. However, today is a time to celebrate the present, not the past. Speaking of which…”

Grinning, Harry dropped the large package from the Weasleys by his chair and placed Hermione’s gift beside his plate on the table. As he looked up at the piled gifts, he noticed a flash of colour. The ceiling was covered with rainbow hued balloons, each one fading through the spectrum at a different rate to the others.

“Oh, wow!”

“Tom said that flowers just wouldn’t cut it” Lily grinned, her green eyes twinkling “He’s been up since six charming them.”

“Well, it’s a family tradition” Tom replied, helping himself to a croissant and smothering it with butter. “I always do balloons. Remember your eighth birthday, Sev.”

“I was the only child with balloon threstrals.” Severus drawled “I believe that you were known amongst the children as ‘mad Snape’s madder uncle” for quite some time.”

“You liked threstrals” Tom countered “And I did snakes, lions, swans and dogs as well”

“Cerberuses.” Lily corrected, grinning. “It was the most talked about party of the year.”

“How come I haven’t got any magical animal balloons?” Harry laughed.

“Sev said you were too old and sophisticated.” Tom replied “I was in your corner, of course.”

“Uh, thanks.” Harry didn’t know exactly who he was thanking but felt it should be said nonetheless.

“Presents, Harry!” Lily exclaimed “Mine is the one with snitch wrapping paper"

Grinning, Harry reached for the small, flattish box. Inside was a leather case, which opened to reveal a silver hip-flask, engraved with a heraldic shield, supported by what looked like rats.

“It was my grandfather’s.” Lily explained “He was in the Ruhleben prisoner of war camp. The motto means; ‘never give up hope’. I thought you might like it.”

The smooth metal felt warm under Harry’s fingers, friendly somehow. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Now don’t you go disappointing us, Harry” Tom admonished. “We want to see Absinthe, or at least Firewhisky in that. None of your pansy kid-drinks!”

“Father!”

Harry grinned “I’ve not drunk anything stronger than butterbeer. Not until last night, at least. Why rats, though, Mum?”

“They became the unofficial mascot of the camp” Lily smiled sadly. “I think it was just a case of trying to find humour in the situation.”

Severus handed Harry a small, square box, wrapped in red paper. “I thought that this might be of some use.”

Harry did not know what to expect but a golden snitch was not it. Holding the small, golden sphere in his hand, Harry gaped, green eyes wide.

“It is a professional training snitch, designed to stay within a forty mile radius and reappear every ten seconds.” Severus explained, his dark eyes darting anxiously to Harry. “I appreciate that, in such a situation as this, you may not always wish to be around… to be indoors…” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Harry nodded, feeling rather self-conscious “It’s great. Um, thanks.”

Severus nodded, his dark eyes tracing Harry's face anxiously.

"I can't wait to try it out." Harry added quicky.

Tom smiled as he handed Harry a tiny, perfectly square green, velvet box, the type used by muggle jewellers. “Good things come in little packages.”

“Like Lily” Severus added casually, before a sudden flush flamed across his high cheekbones.

“Oi! Just because we all aren’t over six feet!”

Harry eased open the lid. Gold gleamed.

“It’s a locket.” Tom informed the stunned boy, who was holding the little golden snitch aloft by its glittering chain. “Have a look inside.”

Finding the latch with fumbling fingers, Harry flipped it free. The locket opened like a concertina; a dozen tiny, round, double-sided frames unfolding in a long chain.

“Wow!”

Each tiny frame held a tiny portrait; one side of the locket held Tom, Lily, Severus, a witch who greatly resembled Snape and an elderly man and woman who Harry remembered from the mirror of Erised and, on the other, the frames held Ron, Hermione and (more surprisingly) Sirius, James and Remus. Quite a few of the frames remained empty on both sides.

“If you ask me how I obtained the hair samples and photographs I will, of course, lie.” Tom said, winking rather obviously at Severus, whose flush deepened.

“I wasn’t going to.” Harry replied “How does hair come into it, anyway?”

“For a magical portrait, you’ve got to weave the hair in with the canvas.” Tom explained. “It’s a bit of a faff fest but the benefits outweigh the difficulties. If you touch any of the minitures with your wand, they’ll be able to speak and hear you. Obviously, the real person won’t remember the conversation but, if you need some advise, they’re a pretty good facsimile; the hair ‘remembers’, you see.”

Harry grinned “Thanks. It must have taken you ages!”

“Well, I had a bit of time on my hands before the term ended” Tom said with a shrug. “I thought you might like it for school or when your friends invite you over.” He smiled “It won’t open for anyone but you.”

Harry opened the finely wrought but reassuringly chunky clasp, trying to fasten the locket around his neck. “Damn.”

Warm, slightly calloused fingers gently slid the clasp from his grip, deftly fastening the chain.

“Thanks” Harry replied, not quite looking at Severus. It seemed strange that it didn’t feel strange to have the man’s hands so near his throat. A month ago, Harry knew he would have flinched away, fearing strangulation!

To hide his embarrassment Harry reached across the table and picked up a large, square box, wrapped in bright red paper and addressed by Hagrid’s messy scrawl. Inside was a triple-layer chocolate cake, decorated with blobby, marzipan dragons.

“He always gets me a cake” Harry said with a wistful smile “They come in… the used to come in useful. What with living with the Dursleys.”

When Hermione’s gift was a large box of chocolates, Harry caught a brief glance between Severus and Tom and, by the time he’d opened the Weasley’s parcel, containing another, even larger box of chocolates and an assortment of pasties and a fruitcake, his family’s smiles had taken on a congealed quality.

The fact that Sirius had thought to put in a couple of jars of potted chicken and shrimp with ‘The Broom Servicing Handbook’ didn’t help matters and, when Lupin’s gift turned out to be a hamper containing dried fruit, vacuum packed salami and a big bar of Honeyjukes chocolate, the air had taken a definite turn towards the frosty.

“Ella used to send me hampers.” Tom said quietly. “Apples, cured meats, biscuits, cheese. The type of food which would last a long time. She knew about conditions at the orphanage.”

Lily’s face had flushed beetroot. Severus placed a hand gently on her arm.

Harry swallowed. Ooops. “Well, you see, when I got back from Hogwarts after my first year, Dobby kind of dropped a big pudding my aunt had made… it was for this important business dinner… he didn’t want me to go back to Hogwarts, Dobby I mean. When I refused to promise, he did a bit of magic, then I got this letter from the Ministry and, well I hadn’t told them about me not being able to do magic during the holidays. They kinda locked me in my room.”

“And didn’t feed you?” Snape’s low drawl had taken on that silken quality. The type that preceded the loss of a million points and twenty hours of gutting newts.

“Well, I had soup. They pushed a can through the cat-flap.”

“A can! Through the cat flap!”

Harry swallowed, this was turning out to be a disaster; why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut!

“It is Harry’s birthday, we can discuss this later.” Severus said in an undertone. “If you have had enough to eat, Harry, I think that we should commence our occulmency lesson.”

Gathering up his unread letters (and Hermione’s birthday card, Harry nodded  and jumped down from his seat. “Er, thanks for the presents and croissants and everything. I really appreciated it.”

“You’re welcome, Harry” Tom replied “And I’ll get onto making those balloon thestrals!”

“What are threstrals anyway?” Harry asked, relieved at the return of levity.

“They pull the carriages at Hogwarts” Tom said simply.

“But the carriages aren’t pulled by anything!” Harry said, his black eye-brows knotting.

“Threstrals are invisible to most people” Tom replied “They look like winged horses, but rather more reptilian.”

“Oh, cool.” Harry replied. “Well, best get going. S… I’m going to try and raise a shield today.”

“Good luck” Lily grinned. As if struck by a sudden impulse, she reached over and tugged Harry into her arms, smiling over her son’s tousled dark hair at Tom. She of all people knew that life was a precious gift, which is why now is called ‘the present’.

oOoOo

“You have now learnt to clear your mind and visualise your mindscape” Severus intoned, his dark eyes serious. “Muggle hypnosis has taken us as far as it may, thus we must now enter the realms of Occulmency. A cleared mind, whilst providing a certain level of protection, will not deter a powerful and determined occulmens. Therefore, your next goal is to erect a shield.”

“Okay” Harry replied cautiously.

“It may help if you visualise something which, in life, would prevent a person from passing. I use fire, Father, on the other hand, uses a version of his youkai shield. I would not advise you to use a building.”

Harry flushed guiltily. Hogwarts, his first idea, has been pretty dumb now he came to think about it.

But what to use? Fire sounded pretty good, since Snape used it, but wouldn’t that make it easier to penetrate? Maybe not but Harry had a strong feeling that the shield had to be personal. What did Harry, himself, find a deterrent? What would he, literally, not be able to cross…

“Cheese!”

“What?” Severus exploded, arched eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

Harry grinned “You know how I couldn’t go near that stinky cheese, the one which made me feel sick even if I walked into the same room?”

Severus’ incredulous look slowly merged into a smile. “I personally could not stand the stench of lard; if my mother started to cook it up with porridge for the wild birds, I had to leave the house.”

“Worse than the smelly-sock cheese?”

“Infinitely."

Severus looked into Harry’s eyes and, suddenly, the teenager found himself transported to a small kitchen, one which looked strikingly similar to Mrs Figs. A terrible smell, like the ghoul of a piece of cheap bacon, coiled into his nostrils. Harry gagged.

“Wow. Yeah. Foul.” Harry gasped, breathing in deep lung-fulls of the sweet, clean air which spilled through the sitting-room window.

“God, that’s gross!”

“You might wish to combine the two scents.” Severus smiled, revealing a wicked glint of teeth. “It is particularly relevant, considering the Headmaster’s love of sherbet lemons…”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever eaten a strongly-flavoured soft cheese then taken a drink of citrus juice?”

“Once” Harry replied, wincing.

“Once is often enough.” Severus replied briskly. “Now, visualise your cheese…”

oOoOo

Harry walked down the hall, a huge smile across his face; he had, after a couple of false starts, created a complete shield and, although Severus invariably broke through, the cheese’s stinky aura was getting wider and more potent each time Harry tried to visualise it.

Snape’s dark eyes had gleamed with approval at the end of the lesson and, although Harry had never sought the man’s regard (at least, not since first year) the memory felt warm in his chest.

As Harry cracked open the kitchen door, music streamed out; a catchy, bouncy, very fast tune.

“Ai aiyi ai I’m your little butterfly, green, black and blue making colours in the sky…”

Sliding on his socks, Tom glided across the kitchen floor, cloudy black hair streaming behind him and his whirling silver robe glowing green and blue under the shifting hues of the light. As Tom danced back to the counter, a box of eggs in his arms, Harry gazed, transfixed.

Skin as white as snow, hair as black as the counterpane, eyes as red as blood supplied his subconscious. Where did that come from? Oh yeah, Snow White… Though it was lips as red as blood, wasn't it?

“You can see, now, why Dumbledore has always feared him” a low voice murmured in his ear.

Harry turned to meet Snape’s dark eyes “It is not the ugly who must be feared, Harry, but those whose charm and beauty bewitch the senses.” The Potions Master’s gaze fell upon Tom’s swaying, twirling form. “Almost every Dark Lord has been fair of face and silver-tongued because, believe me, magical power is nothing, nothing compared to beauty.”

“Grindelwald was beautiful…” Harry whispered.

“Yes, as fair as Lucifer himself. And therein lay our problem; Dumbledore thought Tom resembled his lover in heart as well as body and mind.”

“His lover!”

“And what are you two whispering about?” Tom called, his ruby eyes interested. Nagini, who had been undulating on the counter, gazed at them in irritation.

*Dancing, sssilliessss! Quiet for the musssssssic!*

*Ssshussh, Nagini. Dance again sssssoon.* Tom hissed gently.

“Um, Dumbledore.” Harry replied uncomfortably, a blush suffusing his thin cheeks.

“And his relationship with Grindelwald.” Severus added wryly.

“Ah, now that’s a good story.” Tom grinned “Suffice to say, it’s one of the reasons why he and Lucius, in particular, never saw eye to eye.”

Harry shook his head. The past used to be so simple; now it was a ruddy maze!

“Lil’s out decorating the back garden but the front lawn’s sufficient for a quick game of Quidditch” Tom said, beating a large bowlful of flour into the golden mixture. “Give me half an hour and I’ll russle up some lunch.”

“Very well, I will dig out my broom.” Severus replied, striding upstairs. Grinning, Harry eased the kitchen door closed and followed him.

OoOoO

As Harry tugged on a lightweight, bottle-green jumper, the wad of scrolls brushed against his hand. Tugging them loose, Harry looked at the assorted papers.

It’d only take a minute.

Hermione’s card, which featured a snowy owl, was brief; apart from his name and the printed ‘Happy Birthday, she only wrote ‘Hope that you are well and that we will see you soon.’ Harry’s green eyes narrowed; Hermione’s letters usually ran to several pages, even if she was only describing the weekend.

Ron’s letter was equally to the point ‘Hope the Dursleys aren’t giving you grief. Me and Hermione are hoping we’ll be able to see you soon. Keep you posted, mate.’

Twisting his mouth, Harry opened Sirius’ letter ‘Many Happy Returns… still in England but staying at a safe location… bored out of my mind… How are the muggles treating you… see you soon.’

Remus’ just said, ‘Happy Birthday.’

“Harry?”

Harry turned, dropping his letter on the bed “Sorry.”

“It is of no consequence; I only found my broom a matter of minutes ago.” Severus said neutrally.

As he walked down the stairs beside his father, Harry heard himself say “Hermione’s didn’t write as much as Ron…”

“I can see why that might worry you.” Severus replied, a hint of irony in his voice. “Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley are currently in a safehouse, along with Messrs Lupin and Black. They are quite well but have been forbidden to comment upon their location or anything that would suggest that their circumstances have changed.”

Harry’s jaw dropped.

Severus’ eyebrow quirked “Let us just say that Dumbledore was not wholly satisfied with your account of the final challenge.”

Harry’s mouth worked, his green eyes wide in alarm “He knows…”

“He knows nothing, Harry.” Severus replied seriously. “Dumbledore, naturally, wonders why the Cup was a Portkey and where or, rather, to whom it took you. Most of the Order of the Phoenix” he paused at Harry’s blank expression “Most of the group of people who are within Dumbledore’s confidence are convinced it was some form of jape, unpleasant but not threatening. A few have suggested that it was a trap for Krum although, as your name was placed in the Cup, Dumbledore is unconvinced by this theory.”

Severus raised his chin, a haughty look in his dark eyes “He has attempted occulmency on me, not realising that I am capable of visualising any scene at will, Cedric has also been questioned, to no avail as I modified his memory and a watch has been set on Privet Drive.”

Harry paled “But… I’m here.”

“And 'Harry Potter' is, also, there. Peter Pettigrew is a fair actor” Severus smiled wryly. “Figg’s reports have been dull, much to Dumbledore’s irritation.”

“Figg? You mean, Mrs Figg?”

“Yes.” Severus replied “She is a squib, stationed in your area to keep an eye on you.”

“She never told me!”

“I expect she was not given the requisite permission.”

Harry shivered “That’s so not right…”

“Welcome to the chessboard.” Severus said quietly.

“What if they call for me, though?” Harry asked, green eyes wide with anxiety.

“Peter will inform Tom the moment a wizard or witch enters the area; you will leave via the wardrobe and he will return here. Your trunk is still at Privet Drive and it would be take a matter of seconds to transfigure your clothes. However, I have it on good authority that Dumbledore does not intend to send for you until the last week of the holidays.”

“I’d rather stay here.” Harry muttered.

“Why aren’t you two outside?” Tom called. “Twenty minutes later and here you are, chinwagging on the stairs. Y’know Melissa Glidewell…”

“Broke her neck by falling down the stairs. Yes, father, I know.” Severus interrupted, rolling his eyes.

Harry’s eyebrows hit his messy hairline "Glidewell... Wasn't she the founder of the Harpies?"

“Indeed she was, Harry” Severus replied dryly. “I was so neurotic over stairs by the time I arrived at Hogwarts that I walked, one step at a time, holding onto the balustrade with an iron grip.”

“And you always followed me up the stairs” grinned Lily, sticking her head around the door. “The other kids thought you were a right perv!”

“Culminating in that most unfortunate event which led to James hiccoughing slugs for a week” Tom replied “James swore the spell came form Severus, Lily maintained that she’d cast it and Severus was equally adamant that he did it in self-defence. I believe all three were given detention. Not in the same room, of course.”

Lily and Severus shared a grin.

“Come on, you three; oil’s on and it’s time to fry some chips!”

oOoOo

After a hearty lunch of chip sandwiches, Harry, Lily, Tom and Severus traipsed out into the warm, flower-scented sunshine, Godric dancing at their heels.

The impromptu game of Quidditch was unexpectedly successful; Tom and Severus were competent fliers, with Severus’ fast reactions and Tom’s natural grace almost masking their unfamiliarity with brooms.

Lily, Harry noted with pride, was pretty damn good and a bit of a daredevil with it; Snape always had one, slightly concerned, eye on her and, when Lily tried out the Wronski Feint, he almost collided with the ground himself in trying to get to her. Lily had rolled her emerald eyes, grinning affectionately.

And Godric, despite not possessing a. wings or b. a broom, took some pretty impressive leaps and, once, Severus spent a good five minutes demanding, begging then bribing the snitch from between the pup’s sharp little teeth. To Harry’s complete lack of surprise, Snape took that as an excuse to sit down on the sidelines, holding Godric’s collar in one hand and his wand in the other.

When Tom left to ice the cake, the quidditch descended into a boisterous game of tag and, by the time Lily and Harry had exhausted themselves into agreeing to call it a draw, moths were fluttering around the windows of ‘The Wren’s Nest.’

Whilst Harry and Lily left to take a quick shower, Severus disappeared into the kitchen. However, when they arrived downstairs, the house was empty.

“Let’s go outside.” Lily suggested with a mysterious grin. ‘

Marking the corners of the triangular garden, the swaying spires of the three, gigantic yew trees flamed with their own private constellations of bright, blue and white lights.

The smaller, prettier trees, cherry, peach, fig apple and rowan were hung with pretty, pastel coloured paper lanterns which bobbed merrily in the evening breeze and even the (comparatively) tiny rosebushes had fairies fluttering in their boughs.
In the foreground, a circular table stood, dressed in a silver tablecloth which shimmered in the candlelight. Centre stage, amongst the heaped plates of crisps, butterfly cakes, pizza and cocktail sausages, was a huge, square, green-iced cake, stuck on either side with three chocolate sticks, each of which ended with a hoop. Tiny, caramel brooms hovered in the air above the cake, orbited by two chocoballs, a large red jelly bean and a tiny, yellow smarty.

And, tethered to the four chairs with multi-hued strings, black balloon pegasuses, golden lions, red hippogriffs and white owls floated, dancing in the zephyrs of flower-scented wind.

Harry’s face split into a grin “Cool!”

“The cake was Severus’ idea” Tom said, grinning. “We thought it might be appropriate, seeing the ‘Quidditch’ theme we had this year.”

OoOoO

Later, full of party food and victoria sponge cake, Harry watched as fifteen Chinese lanterns slowly rose into the sky, floating up through the heavens until they resembled shooting stars.

Little did the small family know, as they lay stargazing on the soft, mossy ground, that other eyes were watching the sky that tranquil, summer’s eve. At the very edge of that sacred and ancient forest, a canine cocked his head at the pretty orange lights, which floated like Jack O’Lantern’s lamps across the darkening sky.

Flickering orange against velvet black, like the pumpkin lanterns which smiled merrily from the houses as he had run towards the smouldering, blackened ruin one Halloween nearly fourteen years ago.