Chapter 31 - 31

It was a quarter to eight and Harry was getting nervous again, but unlike that morning he had plenty of friends at hand to distract him. He wished Helena had been willing to arrive early, but she wanted to keep a low profile and show up when everyone else did.

'I've never had nearly this many guests over at once. Do you think they'll all arrive at eight o'clock sharp?'

'I suppose they could,' said Hermione. 'You sent out passphrase portkeys, right?'

'Yes. The goblins have a system for randomising the arrivals, so people won't land on top of one another, but it means the house could go from empty to full within about fifteen seconds.'

'That should be interesting,' said Hannah. 'Are you planning to greet everyone personally?'

'Ideally yes, but I don't know how to do it systematically. Shall I just stand in one place for a while?'

Hermione nodded. 'Somewhere with good traffic flow, like the drawing room.'

'At least you'll have the tapestry as a conversation piece,' said Hannah.

'It's ironic you didn't invite Draco Malfoy, considering he's actually on the tapestry,' said Hermione.

'Unlike me, you mean?'

'Yes, though I suspect that will change when we repair it.'

'Have you found a way to fix it?' asked Neville.

'Not yet. I couldn't find anything in the Ministry library,' said Hermione, 'so I'm waiting until the Hogwarts wards get straightened out so I can consult the library there. I'm certain there are books on repairing magical fabrics.'

Ryan said, 'You know, my mum has books on that, or she might even know the charms off the top of her head. She went through a textiles phase a while back.'

'Of course she did,' said Hermione, beaming at him.

Harry consulted his pocket watch. 'I should go upstairs. Feel free to join me, or to carve out your own territory.'

'I'll need to head to the roof to start the music at eight,' said Ryan. 'But if I can get away I'll bring my friends round to meet you.'

'That's great, I'm looking forward to it.'

They went upstairs, pausing in the dining room to look at everything the house-elves had prepared. The long table was veritably groaning with starters and sweets, and the boxes of Chocolate Frogs had been arranged in a large pyramid.

'I can't imagine anyone will choose a Chocolate Frog over the other sweets and pastries,' said Hannah.

'Not necessarily,' said Ryan. 'We've all been preconditioned to want them, in the hopes we'll find that one card we still need.'

'You're right,' said Harry. 'I think Ron is still looking for Agrippa.'

'How are you handling drinks?' asked Neville.

'The house-elves will serve Butterbeer and the usual beverages, including pumpkin juice for the Hogwarts contingent. As for alcohol, I had Kreacher get wine and beer. No hard liquor though.'

'Good thinking,' said Ryan. 'A certain percentage of people will get hammered anyway, but you needn't make it too easy.'

They went up another flight to the drawing room and got situated. Harry decided to stand—he was afraid sitting would make it look like he was holding court.

Hermione looked at her wristwatch and said, 'Thirty seconds.' Everyone looked at each other nervously.

Luna, who had been silent for a while, suddenly said, 'Harry, thank you again for throwing the party. No matter what happens tonight—and in the aftermath—please always be happy you did it. You're changing the trajectory of wizarding Britain.'

Her statement was received with a general furrowing of brows. 'That was a bit ominous,' said Neville, before guests began to appear in all directions.

There was a fair amount of stumbling, and several people fell down, but it was clear everyone was excited to be there. Harry saw numerous Hogwarts classmates, and several of his teammates as well.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was the first to greet him. 'Harry! Wonderful to see you,' he exclaimed, with a vigorous handshake.

'Justin, hello! I'm glad you could make it.'

'Wouldn't miss it for the world! Brilliant idea, hosting a party like this. I heard about the Hogwarts wards, of course—how shocking that we never learnt about the other schools before this. I'll be very curious to hear how they compare.'

Justin looked around and said, 'So this is the Black family townhouse. And you're Lord Black, unbelievably. Well done on that letter to the Prophet—you really schooled those pure-bloods. Bollocks indeed!'

'I'm surprised I didn't get more blowback,' said Harry. 'I was expecting all the pure-bloods to come after me with pitchforks, but it turns out only the lords themselves took offence.'

'Marvellous,' said Justin. He pulled a long velvet bag from his robes and handed it to Harry. 'And happy birthday! I stopped by Ogden's shop in Diagon Alley—this is his special reserve Firewhisky. I hope you'll enjoy it.'

'Cheers, that was very thoughtful,' said Harry. Oh hell, did people really bring gifts?

Neville, Hannah, and Hermione had kindly remained with Harry and acted as a sort of receiving line, which kept the traffic moving. Ryan was attending to the music, and Luna had wandered off.

The room was packed with people waiting to talk to him. Harry felt overwhelmed—he hadn't been this flooded with well-wishers since his Order of Merlin ceremony. It was mostly people he'd known at Hogwarts, an alarming percentage of whom brought presents—usually Firewhisky. But there were strangers as well, and Harry made a point of talking with them a bit longer.

He was pleased to see his teammate Lyle arrive with a friend. 'Harry, this is my mate Connor,' he said, introducing the faintly scarred wizard.

'It's good to meet you,' said Harry warmly, extending his hand to Connor.

'Likewise, and thanks for having me here. I really appreciate it—I wish more wizards were as understanding.'

'I do too. If you don't mind my asking, do you feel the attitude towards lycanthropy has improved since the war?'

'It's better than it was, particularly with people like Dolores Umbridge out of the picture. But wizards are slow to change their opinions, which means that even though the laws preventing werewolves from being hired are gone, a lot of employers still don't want us.'

'That's a real shame. Remus—my father's close friend—had a lot of trouble finding work as well.'

'There's a silver lining at least,' said Connor. 'Because there are so many new werewolves, we're much better organised and less resigned to the status quo than the previous generation. There's a movement even—it gives me a real hope for the future.'

'Is there any way I could help? I certainly feel strongly about the matter.'

'Would you really? That would be a tremendous boost.'

'Yes, definitely. Owl me in care of the Cannons and we'll find a time to talk.'

The flood of guests continued, and Harry was happy to see Cho Chang, who gave him a big hug. 'Harry, congratulations! Three wins in a row, though I can't say I'm surprised. I never managed to defeat you myself—Cedric was the only one to do it.'

'I suppose so,' he said, hoping she wasn't going to launch into reminiscences about Cedric Diggory.

'But you ... you've turned into quite the heartthrob! You always had a bit of a following at Hogwarts—more than a bit, really—but now you're bigger than Lockhart.'

'Lockhart! Are you deliberately trying to insult me?'

She laughed. 'I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you. But seriously, between the robes and no longer wearing eyeglasses, you're looking exceptionally fit. And I can't imagine any other wizard pulling off flowers so perfectly.'

Is she flirting? he wondered. Or is this yet another round of Cho Chang's patented mixed signals?

'Cheers. You're looking well yourself.'

'Thanks. Is your "ravishing, unnamed companion" here tonight?'

'In theory, but I haven't seen her yet. I've been trapped here since eight o'clock. Fortunately I'm not hungry, but at least I'm covered if I get thirsty,' he said, pulling back the curtain that was concealing the seven bottles of Firewhisky he'd received so far.

'Good lord, don't they know anything about Seekers?'

'Exactly! If I were to bring two bottles to the next Seekers' night out, it would be enough to put us all under the table.'

'Oh, you've probably met all the others as well! Have you met Carl Wainwright, from the Tornados?' she asked, blushing a little.

'Yes, on Monday. Nice bloke.'

'He's not here, is he?'

'No, but I invited Phil Routledge, from Puddlemere.'

'Was that before or after you defeated him this afternoon?'

'After, but he's a great flyer, and we got on too well to taunt each other in earnest.'

'Yes, I've heard taunting plays a big role in league Quidditch.'

'You have no idea,' he replied. 'Oh dear, there's a backup forming—I should probably talk to someone else.'

'It's wonderful to see you, Harry, and I'm so glad you're doing well. No one deserves it more than you do.'

'Thanks,' he said sincerely. 'I appreciate it.'

He was approached next by a witch who looked vaguely familiar but whose name he couldn't recall. 'I'm Sally-Ann Perks,' she said. 'Thank you for inviting me.'

So this is the exceedingly shy Sally-Ann, he thought. 'What a nice surprise, I'm glad you could make it after all. Is Lily here with you?'

'No, but it's kind of you to ask. In fact, I see you're wearing lilies,' she said, indicating his boutonnière.

'Yes, a friend made it for me, in honour of my mother.'

'If that isn't the sweetest thing I've ever heard,' she said. 'Was it your girlfriend who made it?'

'No, Luna Lovegood, from Ravenclaw the year after us.'

'Is your girlfriend here, then? The one you were photographed with?'

Did Sally-Ann get into the Firewhisky? he wondered. She didn't seem at all shy, in spite of her reputation. 'I believe she is, but I haven't seen her yet.'

'I hope I'll get to meet her. Everyone's very curious about who she is. How long have you been together?'

All right, this is getting weird. 'A little while now.'

'Is that why you and Ginny Weasley broke up?'

'Er, that's a rather personal question. I should probably talk to some of the other guests. Thank you for coming, and I hope you have a nice time.'

'I'm certain I will. And happy birthday, Harry.' She handed him a bottle of Firewhisky.

'Thank you, that was very thoughtful.'

'You won't have any?'

'Not right now, but thanks.' He saw Helena at the door but willed her not to approach too quickly. Sally-Ann had a bit of a stalker vibe, and he suspected he should keep them apart. Fortunately he recognised the next person.

'Nott,' he said, extending his hand. 'I'm glad you could make it.'

Theodore Nott shook his hand warmly. 'Thanks for inviting me. I admit I was surprised, but pleasantly so. I'm impressed you were able to overlook my family history,' he said, referring to his Death Eater father.

'Neville spoke well of you. He said you were a voice of restraint amongst the Slytherins during seventh year.'

'I'm sorry that's all I was,' he said. 'I didn't participate in the final battle, you know.'

'Perhaps not, but you're still the only person I know with a Death Eater father who didn't take the Mark.'

'Yes, that was a bone of contention, to say the least. Apparently he changed his will, bequeathing the title and estate to my cousin, but we won't know until he dies. I'm told it won't be long.'

Harry wasn't certain how to reply. Nott's father was elderly and in Azkaban.

'The good news is that you've rendered wizarding lordships completely worthless,' continued Nott cheerfully, 'and half of the family assets were confiscated. So I haven't lost as much as you'd think.'

'That's a positive way to look at it,' said Harry. 'What are you doing with yourself nowadays?'

'I've some relations on my mother's side who aren't quite as tarnished, and they've taken me under their wing. I'm an apprentice at their apothecary, and I'm hoping to achieve Mastery within a few years. It's not exactly what I was brought up to do, but it's an honest living and I'm grateful for it. And it certainly beats Azkaban or house arrest, which is where I'd be if I'd stayed on my assigned path.'

'Are you in contact with Malfoy?' asked Harry. 'Draco, that is?'

'You mean your new cousin?' he said dryly, glancing at Draco's spot on the tapestry. 'Yes, I drop in regularly. He's crawling the walls, of course. The highlight of his existence used to be following the Quidditch league, but you've made that a bit more fraught. Congratulations, by the way—three for three is impressive on its own, but with the Cannons it's a bloody miracle. Why did you pick them anyway?'

'To be honest, I said it as a joke to George Weasley, and an eavesdropper told the Prophet, who ran with it.'

'So it really was an accident? Draco was convinced you leaked it on purpose.'

'No, it really was an accident. I'd never even considered quitting the Ministry and playing league Quidditch until I read the headline announcing I'd already done it.'

Nott shook his head in amazement. 'I'm growing convinced you defeated the Dark Lord by wielding sheer improbability. I think that's your real hidden weapon.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'You may be right. I can't say I've a better explanation.'

'I should let you go,' said Nott. 'I'm glad we had a chance to speak, Potter, and I wish you the best.'

'I'm glad as well, and please call me Harry. I hope we'll see each other again.'

'I'd like that, and call me Theo. Owl me sometime, we can meet for a drink.'

They shook hands, and Harry found himself smiling as Theo left. But his expression changed when the next guest appeared.

'Harry,' purred Romilda Vane. 'Happy birthday.' She pulled him into a rather handsy embrace and added, 'I just love your robes. And those flowers you're wearing are simply delicious.'

'Er, Romilda. What brings you here?' In other words, who the hell brought you?

'I came with Parvati—my invitation was lost somehow and the goblins were no help at all. But it's wonderful to see you again.' She affected sympathy and said, 'How are you doing? I was so sorry to hear about you and Ginny splitting up—you were such an ideal couple. But I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself. We're far too young to settle down, don't you think? In my opinion it's not healthy to have only one partner your entire life.'

She put her hand on his bicep and said, 'And Quidditch obviously suits you. I always used to say you should go professional, but everyone said it was your dream to be an Auror. But I suppose I knew best.'

Harry felt trapped—if only he could summon Helena silently, as he could with Kreacher. He tried desperately to catch her eye.

'I hope you have a nice time tonight,' he said. 'There's music and dancing on the rooftop—you should go have a look.'

'Yes, I was up there already and met your teammate Ryan. I can't believe he and Hermione are together! But then she always had a thing for Quidditch stars ... I'm surprised she never made a move on you. But I suppose she's rather bookish, and you prefer someone a bit more earthy.'

Helena, rescue me! he thought wildly, but she appeared deep in conversation with another young witch, presumably her friend.

Salvation appeared in a different form. 'Daphne,' he exclaimed with excessive familiarity. 'I'm so glad you could make it.'

Daphne Greengrass looked at him appraisingly. 'I wouldn't have missed it, Harry. How are you?' She smoothly displaced Romilda to give Harry a very proper air kiss.

'I'm delighted to see you—it's been far too long. How is your family doing?'

A frowning Romilda stormed off, bypassing Hermione, Neville, and Hannah. 'They're doing splendidly. But you should know that—you've recently had correspondence with my mother.'

Lady Violetta Greengrass? Oh crap. 'I suppose there's no point in apologising, is there?'

'No, none at all. You'd clearly do the same thing again.'

'Set fire to the wizarding peerage? I'm afraid so.'

'For the record, I'll have you know the Greengrass contribution wasn't stolen from Muggles—instead we exploited them. Stealing requires initiative, after all, while ongoing exploitation runs itself after a few generations. Much less effort in the long run.'

'Have you been at the Firewhisky as well?' he asked. 'There seems to be quite a lot circulating.' He pulled back the curtain to show his growing collection.

'No, I've only been at the Chocolate Frogs. I must say, that was rather brazen.'

'How do you mean?'

'Putting out a huge stack of your own cards? I'm honestly a bit appalled—I'd thought better of you.'

'Are you joking? They're all my card? Bugger!'

'You mean you didn't know? That's priceless!' said Daphne, gasping with laughter.

'No, I had no idea. I owled my thanks to the confectioners for writing such an accurate card, and they sent me a case in appreciation. But I never dreamed it wasn't just the standard assortment. This is a nightmare! How do I fix it?'

'I'll spread the word if you like ... It's the least I can do after having a front row seat to your current humiliation.'

He turned to Hermione. 'Hermione, help! It turns out all the Chocolate Frogs contain my card.'

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and stayed there, and she threw a hand over her mouth, possibly to keep from laughing. 'Oh no! That's positively mortifying. What do you want me to do?'

'I don't know ... Obliviate everyone? Or at least explain to people what happened.'

'I can put up a sign on the dining table at the very least,' she said. 'And perhaps Ryan can stop the music and make an announcement.'

'Please, yes, anything.' Hermione hurried off, and Harry said, 'Bloody hell ... why is my life like this?'

Daphne was still laughing. 'Potter, I am forever in your debt for inviting me to your party just so I could witness this. And those are lovely robes, by the way. I've always been partial to fitted robes, particularly on young wizards, but almost no one was willing to wear them until last week. That should probably go on the next edition of your Chocolate Frog Card.'

'I never want to see a Chocolate Frog Card again. Why on earth didn't they warn me?'

'They probably thought it would be a nice surprise,' replied Daphne. 'And it has been. Fortunately you have all that Firewhisky to take the edge off.'

'I suppose I could pour it on the cards and ignite them. Where's Fiendfyre when you really need it?'

Helena finally appeared, and he exclaimed, 'At last, there you are!' He leaned in to kiss her but she turned her head and he only made contact with her cheek. 'Er, Helena, this is my classmate Daphne Greengrass. Daphne, this is my friend Helena Strauss.'

Daphne studied Helena before saying, 'It's nice to meet you. I've just had the pleasure of informing Harry that all the Chocolate Frogs contain his card.'

Aghast, Helena turned to him. 'Oh no! I assume that wasn't on purpose?'

'God no, what do you take me for?'

'Shall I spread the word?'

'Yes, if you're willing, but don't disappear too long.'

'I won't. I still want to introduce my friend—she's very keen to meet you. But for now she'll have to content herself with your Chocolate Frog Card.'

'By all means, give her all of them.'

Daphne said, 'I suppose it's time I earned my keep and spread the word as well. I owe you one for torching the wizarding peerage. I was next in line, you know, and those hats are appalling.'

'It was never my intention to deprive you of your hard-earned title. Perhaps you could find a Muggle lord to marry?' he suggested, and she laughed.

'Thanks again for what's already proven to be a memorable evening. I'll bring Draco one of your cards for his collection—perhaps you can autograph it for him.'

'He'll probably appreciate that even less than the time I relieved him of his wand,' said Harry. 'Could you make an announcement now? I don't think I can handle standing in a roomful of people who think I'm an enormous prat.'

'Nonsense, I'm certain you can handle it just fine. But I'll oblige you nevertheless.'

Daphne raised her wand to her throat and said, 'Excuse me, I have an important announcement,' her voice amplified. 'As you may know, Lord Black has generously provided Chocolate Frogs, presumably for purposes of nostalgia. You may also have discovered that every single frog contains our host's very own card. However, it is my duty to inform you that Harry had no idea in advance that the cards all depicted him. So for those of you who thought he'd turned into a colossal egomaniac, rest assured he's still the hapless young wizard his classmates so fondly remember.'

She turned to him and said, 'There. Is that better?'

'Oddly, yes,' he said. 'Cheers!'

Smiling, he turned to the next guest. Ugh, Blaise Zabini, he thought, his face returning to a blandly polite expression. 'Zabini, thank you for coming. I hope you're having a good time.'

'I am, and thank you for inviting me. When I received your invitation I was convinced it was another one of Draco's practical jokes. I was preparing to draw rude pictures on it and owl it back to him when Ginny assured me it was legitimate.'

'I'm sorry, Ginny Weasley?' asked Harry, incredulous.

'Your lovely ex-girlfriend, yes. We've become friendly recently.'

Friendly? What in Merlin's name does that mean? thought Harry. 'I can't say I ever saw that coming,' he said. 'But I suppose I've been rather unpredictable myself lately.'

'Indeed! This party alone is astonishing. Did my eyes deceive me, or is the esteemed proprietor of Penumbra here tonight, with two ... companions?'

'You know Alistair?' asked Harry. 'Silly question, of course you do. Who from our Hogwarts class is more likely to have met him than you, Zabini?"

'Call me Blaise. And yes, I've made his acquaintance, as have you apparently. I must say, Harry, you've impressed me quite a bit this past month. Forgive me—you haven't given me permission to call you that, but I've grown accustomed to hearing Ginny refer to you that way.'

Are you kidding me? thought Harry. 'I suppose I told all of wizarding Britain to call me by my birth name, so I can't very well forbid you.'

'Quite so. But as I was saying, it's been delightful to see you finally start living up to your potential.'

'I hadn't realised I'd been underperforming,' retorted Harry. 'I defeated Voldemort, after all.'

Blaise laughed out loud. 'Indeed, well said! But you've proven my point—if I'd spoken to you like that in school, you would have just grumbled and glared and, at worst, called me a bloody Slytherin. But now you've got panache.'

'Whereas you're still the same arrogant twat I remember.'

'Tut tut, Harry, can't you recognise a compliment? In the space of a month you've gone from being a heartbroken young Auror to the most envied wizard in Britain. You've turned the Cannons into a winning team, you're squiring ravishing young witches around town, and you've become a style icon. You probably haven't noticed yet, but a shocking percentage of your male guests are wearing robes, and I expect half of them to have makeshift boutonnières before the night is over.'

Harry was tempted to glare at Blaise and call him a bloody Slytherin, but his more sophisticated persona spoke up instead. 'I suppose you're right, and I'll thank you for the compliment. I think it took me a solid year after the final battle to accept that maybe I wasn't about to die, and that perhaps it was time to start living.'

'Hear hear! I'm delighted for you. What's the point in saving the wizarding world if you never enjoy the spoils? Not that there's anything wrong with Ginny Weasley—she's bang tidy, make no mistake. But you deserve a rich sampling from the entire menu, and your acquaintance with Alistair tells me you've already enjoyed the first course.'

I refer to it as 'pudding,' thought Harry.

'But I've made my point,' continued Blaise, 'so I'll let you talk to your next supplicant. There's just one more thing, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: thank you for saving the wizarding world. I wasn't a Death Eater, but I wasn't exactly on your side either, and I sincerely regret that. I see now that the old blood prejudices were damaging, to say the least.'

Blaise pulled a bottle from his robes and handed it to Harry. 'Don't worry, it's not Firewhisky. It's a Muggle single-malt—I actually prefer them.'

'Thank you, that was very thoughtful.'

Blaise gave a small bow and left. Merlin, is that what dandies were like? thought Harry. I should instruct Hermione to hex me to pieces if I ever act like that. And what the hell was all that about Ginny?

'This is an amazing party, Potter—thanks again for inviting me.'

Harry was delighted to see Phil Routledge. 'I'm so glad you could make it, and please, call me Harry.'

'Only if you call me Phil. I'd apologise for not bringing you a birthday present, but I know the customary offering is Firewhisky, and I'm certain you've received enough already. I know I did at my last birthday.'

'Yes, thank you ... I've been given gallons so far and I can't imagine when I'll get through it, even with friends helping me. Do know know if there's a Beaters' night out? Perhaps I could sponsor it this month.'

Phil laughed and said, 'That smacks of bribery. I'd have thought better of you.'

'In spite of everything Gilstrap told you about me?'

'I heard about what he said on Monday—that was appalling. I'm sorry I wasn't there to tell him off in person.'

'I assume you skipped it on purpose?'

'Yes—I wanted to retain my advantage.'

Harry nodded and said, 'I know I said it before, but your flying impressed the hell out of me. Would you care to practice together sometime?'

'That sounds great. Yes, definitely,' said Phil. 'The Puddlemere reserve Seeker is a bit cautious, as I imagine Owen is, so it would be a nice change to spar with a madman like yourself.'

Harry registered Phil's outfit for the first time. 'Oi! You're wearing fitted robes, after taunting me about mine!'

Phil smiled slyly. 'All's fair above the pitch. I should thank you, actually. As you've figured out, Seekers look particularly good in robes, but until last week I couldn't get past the Death Eater thing. I'm Muggle-born, you know.'

The crowd around Harry had finally thinned, so they were free to chat for a few minutes until Phil's eyes suddenly glazed over and he murmured, 'Who in Merlin's name is that?'

Harry looked and saw Gabrielle, escorted by Bill Weasley. Nearly everyone in the room was staring in open admiration, and Harry felt a huge blast of her chaotic allure.

'She's fourteen!' he stammered. 'Leave now and save yourself!'

Phil needed no further instructions—he practically ran from the room, leaving Harry defenceless as she arrived. 'Harry,' she said, kissing him once on each cheek. 'I would like to wish you a very happy birthday.'

'Yes,' said Bill crisply. 'Harry is nineteen now. Five years older than you are, Gabrielle. Fourteen plus five makes nineteen.'

'I know that,' snapped Gabrielle. 'I am patient.'

Harry was unable to reply. Helena, where in blazes are you?

'I have a birthday present for you, Harry,' she said, handing him a flat, rectangular box. 'It is a framed photograph for you to remember me, until we can be together.'

'Er, thank you,' said Harry, taking the photograph. 'I'll summon my house-elf right now and have him put it somewhere safe.'

'That is perfect, Harry.'

He summoned the elf telepathically, and Kreacher appeared with a loud crack.

'Yes, Master.'

'I'd like for you to take this photograph and put it in the library.' He turned to Bill and added, 'The library's locked.'

'Yes, Master, of course. Is there anything else Kreacher can do for Master?'

Harry transmitted his next instructions wordlessly. Once you're in the library, destroy the photograph. Repeat, destroy the photograph.

'No, Kreacher, that will be all.'

'Yes, Master!' replied Kreacher with a knowing nod. Crack!

Bill took Gabrielle by the arm and said, 'All right, it's time for us to leave. Congratulations on today's match, and happy birthday.'

'Thanks, Bill. And thank you both for coming.' Helena, where are you?

Unable to tear his eyes away from Gabrielle, Harry watched them leave, and as soon as they were gone he began to regain his composure. He was still staring blankly at the door when Helena entered and made her way to him.

'Thank heaven, you're back.' He knew better than to try kissing her, but he leaned towards her and said, 'It's unbearable being this close to you without being able to touch you. I've been thinking about you all day.'

She smiled mischievously and said, 'You'll have to keep thinking for a while longer. But I promise, you won't be disappointed when the time finally comes. I've a truly memorable birthday gift for you.'

'Will you least allow me to introduce you to some of my friends?'

'Perhaps, but first let me introduce my friend—she's been waiting for hours. She's right over there.' Helena took his arm—inadvertently, no doubt—and led him through the crowd to the other side of the room where a very fetching young witch was examining the tapestry.

'Harry, this is Vanessa Waite. Vanessa, this is Harry. I'd tell you his surname but there seems to be some uncertainty around it.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Vanessa. Did you attend West Chipworth as well?'

'No, I went to Stodgings, but Helena and I have been friends for the last couple of years. I must say, this is a remarkable tapestry. But I can't find you anywhere on it.'

'There's a reason for that,' he said. 'My only two relations on the tapestry were cursed off it by Sirius Black's mother. We've a plan to restore it, but it hasn't happened yet. And even then, it's possible the tapestry won't display me—I'm not a pure-blood, after all.'

'You're Head of House,' said Vanessa. 'Surely that outweighs Blood Status.'

'Yes, though the tapestry might crumble into ashes if it's forced to display my mother's name.' After a pause, he said, 'Are you enjoying the party? I've been trapped in here the entire time.'

Vanessa nodded enthusiastically, and Helena said, 'Yes, it's brilliant. You should really explore. The rooftop dancing is proving popular—it seems your Hogwarts classmates have never heard decent music before, and so they're helpless around it.'

'If only I'd known ... we could have neutralised Death Eaters that way. Would you care to dance now?' he asked both of them.

'No,' said Helena. 'This is only an interlude. You won't see us again until much later. I have strong feelings about privacy, as you might know.'

'Yes, and they're the bane of my existence.' He turned to Vanessa and said, 'She's completely infuriating. I can't figure out why I keep inviting her back.'

'I have a few guesses,' said Helena. 'But we're off again.' They walked away, leaving Harry momentarily bereft.

'I can't believe it,' said Janet's voice behind him. 'I've spotted a rare Snitchbottom in the wild.'

He turned and saw her with Ron, who was wearing a very fine set of tailored robes. 'You bastard!' cried Harry. 'Accusing me of looking like Lucius Malfoy but sneaking off to buy robes of your own!'

'It's all my fault,' said Janet. 'I wanted to see what the grown-up version looked like. I dragged him to Thimble's shop and convinced them to give him an Order of Merlin discount.'

'What can I say? She's a bad influence.' Ron added, 'So are you enjoying the party?'

'To be honest, not particularly. I've been stuck playing host the entire time, and Helena won't be seen with me for fear of publicity, so I'm rather out of step with things.'

'I was born to solve this problem,' declared Janet. 'What do you need first? Food? Alcohol? A Chocolate Frog perhaps?'

'Oh, the bloody Chocolate Frogs—I'd forgotten about them. Alcohol. Definitely alcohol.'

Janet grabbed his hand and dragged him downstairs to the still-crowded dining room. 'What's your poison? There's beer, wine, and quite a lot of Firewhisky,' she said, indicating a number of bottles that had appeared on the sideboard.

'I didn't serve Firewhisky! Where did they even come from?'

'I couldn't say where they came from, but judging from all the empty bottles I'd say it's gone all sorts of places.'

'Bloody hell, everyone's getting pissed at my party except for me.'

Janet clapped her hands and said, 'Excuse me, house-elf! Would you please provide a glass of beer for our host?'

One of the many Hogwarts elves bustling quietly in the background appeared and said, 'Yes, miss, with pleasure,' before returning seconds later with a glass for Harry.

'Drain it, Snitchbottom,' ordered Janet. 'We need to make up for lost time.'

He was about to protest until he noticed the empty spot where the Chocolate Frogs used to be. At least Hermione put up a sign, he thought miserably, before drinking his entire glass in one go. A number of onlookers applauded, and someone shouted, 'Brilliant party, Potter!'

'Much better,' said Janet, gesturing for an elf to refill Harry's glass. 'I expect your evening to improve accordingly.'

Her prediction was wrong—now that Harry was in the dining room he was approached by a new crowd of well-wishers. Some were agreeable: his teammates and their friends, for example, and old D.A. members like Susan Bones and Terry Boot. But there were a few tossers as well, such as Zacharias Smith and Cormac McLaggen.

Hang on, thought Harry. I didn't invite McLaggen. 'Potter,' he said. 'This is quite a place you have here. I can't say I ever expected the Chosen One to be named head of House Black. Are you going to start learning the Dark Arts now? I imagine you've got quite a library behind that locked door upstairs.'

Janet was puzzled. 'I'm sorry, are you accusing Harry Potter of turning into a Dark wizard? Are you taking the piss, or are you just daft?'

'I'm taking the piss, of course,' said McLaggen. 'But you're forgiven for getting the wrong impression. I'm Cormac, by the way—I assume you went to one of the schools other than Hogwarts?'

Ron looked less than pleased about Cormac chatting up Janet, but Harry leaned over to reassure him. 'Relax, she's just toying with him before moving in for the kill.'

'You're probably right—let's see what happens.'

However, Janet continued talking with Cormac without resorting to her usual sarcasm, and when Ron tried to catch her eye she ignored him. Ron was looking increasingly irritated, which prompted Harry to drag him back towards the drinks area.

'I'm sure she's just trying to spice things up by making you jealous,' said Harry.

'It's working,' said Ron bitterly, as a house-elf refilled their glasses. 'I suppose we're both having witch problems tonight.'

'Hopefully they're just temporary—Helena promised me a satisfying conclusion, but I have no idea what her timetable is. She might be thinking two in the morning, for all I know.'

'I'm sure Romilda Vane would be willing to help you pass the time,' suggested Ron. 'Or any one of several dozen witches present.'

'No, I actually like Helena. But I wish she weren't so bloody reclusive—I'd be in heaven right now if we were just dancing together.'

'Wow, you've got it bad. Does she know this, or does she still think it's a fling.'

'I don't know,' said Harry, taking another long gulp from his glass. 'It certainly started that way, but there's just something about her. She's gorgeous and brilliant and caring and more fun than anyone I've ever met. I wish I could introduce you, but of course she's hiding.'

'You need to distract yourself, mate,' said Ron. 'Not with witches, but with people you actually want to talk to and not just gobshites like Zacharias Smith.'

'Good idea. I wonder where Alistair is.'

'Who's Alistair? What does he look like?'

'He's a vampire. About my height, silver hair, but otherwise young looking.'

Ron stared at him. 'You invited a vampire into a house full of susceptible young witches and wizards?'

'Alistair's fine, and we made an arrangement. He brought two thralls to keep his charisma in check. And he was in Gryffindor centuries ago.'

Ron's expression changed from horror to curiosity. 'You've got me interested—let's find him.'

Harry was reminded yet again why height was considered an advantage—Ron found Alistair in no time, in the downstairs sitting room with a thrall on either side. The vampire rose when he saw Harry.

'Harry,' he said, extending his hand. 'I see you've continued your progress,' he added, with an approving look at Harry's robes. His eyes lingered a moment on the floral boutonnière. 'Allow me to wish you a happy birthday.'

'Thank you, Alistair. I'm glad you're here tonight.'

'Yes, it's an interesting occasion. Wizarding Britain is at a crossroads, and you've given it a strong shove in a particular direction. Your takedown of the so-called peerage was masterfully done. Bollocks indeed.'

'Hopefully this means nobody will call me Lord Black anymore.'

'Names are interesting,' said Alistair. 'On the one hand they're completely arbitrary. Your essence would be unchanged whether you were called Harry Potter or Lord Harry Black. And yet they each have their own power. Have you noticed how the title still imparts a thrill, even though you've demonstrated how meaningless it is?'

Harry was a little embarrassed that Ron was present, but he answered honestly. 'Yes.'

'And even without the title, the surname Black feels different from your father's surname.'

'Yes, it feels entirely different.'

'I see you've honoured your mother with the lilies at your lapel. But what about your father?'

Harry frowned. 'How am I supposed to pay tribute to my father? I hardly know anything about him, except that he liked Quidditch.'

'What of his character?' asked Alistair.

'I've had conflicting reports, and he was only twenty-one when he died. Apparently he'd grown up a bit by then, or else my mother wouldn't have married him, but I'm told he was rather arrogant. And I've seen evidence of it in a Pensieve.'

'And what of your other father?'

'You mean Sirius?'

Alistair nodded.

'He was arrogant too,' said Harry. 'And they were both bullies. But they were devoted friends—to each another and also to Moony, their mate who was a werewolf.'

'Another father,' observed Alistair.

'I suppose you're right. But they're all dead. It's a pattern, really.'

'Yes. So how do you honour them?'

'Well, I died already, so we can scratch that off the list,' said Harry, prompting both Alistair and Ron to laugh. 'Are you saying I should honour my father by being arrogant? That doesn't sound like a good idea.'

'You could always honour Sirius by being impetuous,' suggested Ron. 'Or honour Moony by—I dunno—getting kicked around and moping about it. I reckon you've got a solid head start on all three.'

'Cheers,' said Harry acidly. 'So what are you saying, Alistair? Can you be a little more vague? Seriously, you're almost as bad as Dumbledore.'

'None of these traits are inherently negative. Arrogance is just a flavour of self-confidence and wielded power. To be impetuous is to be decisive.'

'You left out getting kicked around and moping,' said Ron.

'You've survived. There's no shame in that.'

Harry thought about his life with the Dursleys. 'Then why does it feel that way?'

'Because shame feels safe.'

'Bugger that! They kicked me around for years. I've never told anyone—not even you, Ron. Shame doesn't feel safe. It just feels shitty.'

'Why haven't you told anyone?' asked Alistair.

'Because I don't fucking want to—is that a good enough reason for you?'

'Yes.'

Harry straightened and looked at Alistair. 'I'm glad you came here—really, I am. And no doubt I'll see you again soon, probably when my girlfriend dumps me. But I've had enough of this conversation and I'm going to leave now.'

Alistair nodded respectfully and waited for Harry and Ron to depart before sitting down.

Harry marched decisively up the stairs. 'That was heavy,' said Ron. 'Where are we going?'

'Three stops,' said Harry. 'The first is to the dining room to pick up a pair of charmed goblets, because the last thing I need right now is a bloody Love Potion. Second stop is the drawing room, where I left about a dozen bottles of whisky people foisted on me. And the third stop is the roof, because maybe if I'm lucky Helena will cave in and let me dance with her.'

Nobody approached them as they proceeded, which Harry noted with detached interest. Either my 'Stay the fuck away' wards are at full strength, or everyone's too plastered to notice the Boy Who Fucking Lived.

Harry pulled back the curtain in the drawing room to reveal the Weasley-sized family of whisky bottles. 'What's that last one?' asked Ron.

'Blaise gave it to me—it's a Muggle single-malt.'

Ron examined it and took a tentative sniff. 'Zabini's a pretentious arse, but I'll bet he knows his liquor.' He sloshed some into both of their glasses.

'The good news is that he didn't add a Love Potion,' said Harry before taking his first long sip. 'The bad news is that he's apparently been hanging out with Ginny.'

'Are you serious?'

'Unless he was lying, then yes I'm serious. Shall we look for them?'

Ron frowned. 'That doesn't sound like a good idea.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry, taking another extended sip. 'I could introduce Ginny to Helena. Maybe she could provide pointers on dumping me.'

'Helena's not going to dump you. You're the envy of every fucking wizard in Britain—except for me, thank Merlin—and just about every witch in this house would jump at the chance to shag you.'

'Yes, as long as they don't have to be seen with me in public. They can fulfil their childhood fantasy of being chosen by the fucking Chosen One, but god forbid the Prophet find out because then they won't have any privacy either.'

'That's enough whisky, mate,' said Ron, taking the nearly-empty glass from Harry. 'Let's go up to the roof.'

They walked up another flight to the level where Harry's bedroom was, along with a magically-enhanced number of guest rooms. Harry's room was specially warded by the goblins to allow entry only to him, but the others were all accessible. Most of the doors, however, were closed. Pure-blood decorating strikes again, he thought.

A lot of people were standing around talking in the wide corridor, and when he passed he heard Owen's voice. 'Harry, there you are,' he said.

'Owen!' exclaimed Harry. I love Owen! he thought happily, and he threw his arms around him. 'I can't tell you how glad I am to see you! Ron, this is Owen. He's brilliant—I'd probably be zero for three if it weren't for him.'

'Owen Barrowmaker! I was hoping I'd meet you tonight,' said Ron, shaking his hand. 'You were amazing. I was a wreck when you got hit by those Bludgers. Two at once ... brutal. Do you remember that, Harry?'

'Yes, but that was the Umbridge year so it's all a blur. Are you all having a good time? I hope so! Sorry I've been such a shitty host.'

'You've been a fine host,' said Jill. 'This is a lovely party.'

'Did you get my Chocolate Frog Card? Those bastards sent me an entire case without warning me, so now I look like the world's biggest prat.'

Owen chuckled and said, 'Don't worry, we heard the full story—everyone did. We all had a good laugh but not at your expense.' He indicated a woman they were standing with and said, 'Harry, I'd like to introduce Fiona, a school friend of ours.'

Well hello there! thought Harry. 'Nice to meet you, Fiona—you're a fit bird! Maybe I'll owl you when Helena dumps me.'

Jill and Fiona both laughed, and Owen said, 'Are you all right, Harry?'

'Yes, I'm brilliant. I'm paying tribute to my three dead fathers by simultaneously being arrogant, impetuous, and ... what was the last one, Ron?'

'Mopey. And getting shat on.'

'Right—the Boy Who Was Shat On.'

'Do you need a glass of water?' asked Owen, taking out his wand.

'I don't know, do you have one of those charmed goblets up here? I don't want you to Love Potion me.'

Jill and Fiona kept laughing, and Owen conjured and filled a glass of water. 'Drink this. You're a lightweight, remember?'

Harry dutifully drank it and said, 'You're right, I need to pace myself. I still have ten more bottles of whisky to get through. And that's not even counting the ones in the dining room. Now I understand why Dumbledore wanted socks—I bet people were always giving him whisky. Oh wait, no, it was books. Bugger—there goes my entire theory.'

'Did you eat enough before the party?' asked Owen, who still looked concerned.

'Yes, I've an army of house-elves this weekend, didn't you notice?'

'I did, but you're not supposed to eat them.'

'No, of course not,' said Harry. 'Hermione would send me a Howler if I tried.'

Owen consulted his pocket watch. 'Ron, can you keep an eye on him? Jill and I need to head home now.'

'Yeah, no problem. Cheers.'

'Thanks, Owen,' said Harry. 'You're my favourite person in the whole world, except for Helena, but she's about to dump me so you'll have the number one spot soon enough. Oh, and there's Ron and Hermione, but they don't count.'

'I'll see you on Monday,' he replied. 'Thanks again for inviting us.'

'Yes, thanks,' said Jill, 'it was lovely.'

'Very memorable,' added Fiona, and the women laughed again.

Harry and Ron climbed the narrow staircase leading to the attic, but their passage was blocked by someone on the stairs. 'Hello,' said Harry. 'That's an odd place to sit. Isn't the house big enough for you? Oh, you're Sally-Ann Perks. I understand you're exceedingly shy. Carry on then.'

'This is a remarkable party,' she said. 'How much did it cost you?'

'I don't know, a lot. Doesn't matter, of course. Drop in the bloody bucket. I've three dead fathers but no end of gold.'

'Three fathers?'

'Sirius, Remus, and James. I don't remember that last one, but I'm told he looks like me. Except my eyes—I have my dead mother's eyes. Shit, that sounds creepy. Like I have them in a jar somewhere.'

'Are you heading to the roof to find your girlfriend?'

'Yeah, but she's probably still hiding from me. She hates publicity, you know. But I suppose you'd understand, being exceedingly shy and all. Though you're probably the least shy exceedingly shy person I've ever met. Which naturally makes me wonder about all the exceedingly shy people I haven't met.'

'What's her name?'

'The exceedingly shy person? How would I know her name? Which part of exceedingly shy don't you understand?'

'No, your girlfriend.'

'It's Helena. Helena. What a beautiful name. Oh god, I want her. No offence, but I'd rather find her and shag her on my shockingly large bed than stand and talk with you in a tiny stairwell. Cheerio!'

Ron laughed as they continued up the stairs. 'Who was that? Did we go to Hogwarts with her?'

'Sally-Ann Perks. Exceedingly shy.'

'Yeah, I got that bit.'

They emerged onto the roof and loud music pounded around them. 'Oh, yes,' exclaimed Harry. 'This is sex music. Where's Helena? Is it still my birthday? She owes me a present, and I don't need any more bloody Firewhisky.'

'Harry, there you are,' called a female voice.

'Helena!' he cried. 'Oh wait, no. Ginny. Hi. How are you? Are you enjoying the party? Did you get my Chocolate Frog Card?'

She laughed and said, 'I did, that was hilarious—Hermione explained everything. You poor thing, you must have been mortified.'

'Story of my life,' he said. 'I'm the wielder of sheer improbability, you know.'

'Yes, I've noticed that.'

'Are you here with Blaise Zabini?'

'What? No, we're just friends.'

'When did that happen?' asked Harry.

'Are you drunk? Ron, is Harry all right?'

'Yeah, he'll be fine,' said Ron. 'Have you seen Janet?'

'Janet Lindhurst? No, not for ages,' replied Ginny.

'Maybe she and Helena are comparing notes on how to dump us,' suggested Harry. 'Ginny, do you want to give them some pointers?'

'Do you need some water, Harry?' She took out her wand.

'I don't know, you might Love Potion me.'

She conjured a glass and filled it for him. 'Here, drink this.'

'Cheers. Oh look, there's Hermione. She and Ryan are certainly getting along.'

'Yes, they are,' said Ginny, amused. Hermione and Ryan were dancing a good deal more demonstratively than Harry had ever seen her before.

'Are you fucking kidding me?' exclaimed Ron.

'What, are you sorry you ditched her now?' asked Ginny.

'No, I'm not sorry,' snapped Ron. 'Where the hell is Janet?'

'Did someone call me?' said Janet, emerging from the top of the stairwell.

'There you are,' said Ron. 'Please don't tell me you're with Cormac bloody McLaggen.'

'That pretentious twat I was talking to earlier? Please, give me a little credit.'

'Then why did you ignore me?'

'Because you got all jealous and ended up like this, which is really bloody hilarious.'

'You know you're evil, right?' said Ron, wrapping his arms around her.

'Of course I do—I'm not some unwittingly evil person, after all,' she said, before kissing him and leading him to the dance floor.

'Right then,' said Harry, turning towards Ginny. 'If we were still together I'd probably be planning to propose to you next month. Weird, eh? And then there'd be two women I'd never have shagged. Fancy that! Oh shit, Elizabeth was a Puddlemere fan. I think she was at the match. Oh well.'

'I forgot how hilarious you are when you're plastered,' said Ginny. 'We really should have got pissed together more often.'

'Yes, I'm certain that's what tore us apart. Insufficient intoxication.'

'Harry?' came a voice from behind him.

'Helena! Oh my god, finally. Why have you been hiding from me? When can we have sex?'

Ginny burst out laughing. 'He's good at it, isn't he?' she said to Helena.

'Yes, he's definitely famous for the wrong reason.'

'The Boy Who Goes Down On Witches,' proclaimed Harry, and both women laughed. 'Ginny trained me, you know. You should send her an owl. You're both really hot—I'd be hard pressed to choose a favourite. You taste a little different though. Oh my god, the two of you together! Is it still my birthday? My bed is enormous, you know.'

'I'll leave you two alone now,' said Ginny, still laughing.

'Good night, Ginny. In a parallel universe we're getting engaged next month. Unless it's past midnight, in which case it's this month. "Born as the seventh month dies," you know.'

Ginny's expression turned serious. 'Helena, you should take him somewhere private. He knows a lot of classified information, as you can imagine, and he's awfully chatty right now.'

'Understood,' she said. 'Harry, come with me.' She led him away from Ginny.

'Is it time for my present? You're so beautiful. I can't wait to be inside you. Do I have to give you a foot massage first or can I dive right in?'

She lowered her voice. 'The latter. But that's not your only present,' she said. 'What did you think of Vanessa?'

'She's really hot too. You have hot friends. What is it about hot women, clumping like that?'

'Vanessa's really keen to get to know you better, Harry.'

'Because I'm the Boy Who Goes Down On Witches? That's probably better than the Boy Who Shat.'

'Oh my god, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that.'

'I think you've misunderstood,' he said. 'I don't shit on women. It's because I probably shat the first time Voldemort attacked me. I was a baby, you know. What kind of arsehole attacks a baby?'

'I can't believe I've never seen you drunk before—this is brilliant. But don't get any drunker, mind you.'

'I won't. I'll save my ten other bottles of whisky for tomorrow.'

'Stay right here, and don't talk to anyone. I'll be right back.'

Harry sat down on the roof, enjoying the music. It sounded like the Weird Sisters only it wasn't total crap.

Helena returned with Vanessa, and Harry stood up. 'Can we dance together up here?' he asked.

'No, it's time to go to your enormous bed.'

'Brilliant, that's even better. Let's go.'

When they descended from the attic to the floor with Harry's bedroom, they ran into Sally-Ann Perks again. 'For the love of Merlin, find a chair!' exclaimed Harry. 'Someone's going to trip on you.'

'Is this your girlfriend, Harry?'

'Isn't she gorgeous?' he said admiringly.

'Which one?'

'Helena,' he sighed, gazing longingly at her. 'But her friend's lovely as well. Helena has really hot friends. This is the best birthday ever.'

'That's it, Harry,' said Helena. 'Just around the corner.'

'I know where my own bedroom is,' he said indignantly.

'Why won't the door open?' she asked.

'Goblin wards. Nothing but the best for Lord Black! Except for family, of course—I really drew the short straw there. But at least I have two hot witches.' There was laughter from the other guests standing nearby as Harry opened the door and led Helena and Vanessa inside.

'Happy birthday!' shouted one of the guests. 'You bloody well earned it!' The door closed, and the corridor echoed with whistles and applause.