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Harry Potter awoke to the gentle weight of Itisa curled against his side, her warmth radiating through his pajamas. For a moment, he lay perfectly still, listening to the rhythmic purr of his disguised Nundu companion and watching golden sunlight filter through the curtains of his room at the Tonks residence.
July 31st. Twelve years old today.
The thought struck him with surprising weight. He stretched carefully to avoid disturbing Itisa, whose golden eyes cracked open just enough to regard him lazily.
"Morning, troublemaker," Harry whispered, scratching behind her ears. "Another year older. Doesn't feel much different, does it?"
Itisa's purr deepened, her eyes communicating something that needed no translation: You've changed more than you realize.
Harry's gaze drifted to the small wooden desk where the Aqualis crystal sat in a specially crafted holder, its opalescent surface catching the morning light and sending prismatic patterns dancing across the ceiling. Four years ago, he couldn't have imagined such a thing existed. Four years ago, he didn't even know magic was real.
Harry remembered the day he met Professor McGonagall. It felt so long ago. He had walked back to the Dursleys after burning Vernon's hand, and before he could enter the house, the Professor had stopped him and asked if he was Harry Potter. Harry never went to that place again; not once did he think about what the Dursleys were doing, and he didn't care.
Itisa made a huffing sound that Harry recognized as her version of laughter, then gracefully slid off the bed. She padded toward the closed door, then turned back to look at him expectantly.
"What? Need to go out?"
The disguised Nundu shook her head, then trotted to the closet instead. She pawed at the door until Harry, curious, opened it for her. Itisa disappeared inside, rustling among his school robes and summer clothes. A moment later, she emerged carrying something in her mouth.
"What have you got there?" Harry knelt to examine her offering.
Itisa gently dropped a small spherical object into his palm. It appeared to be a tightly woven ball of thin golden branches or twigs, roughly the size of a Snitch. When Harry touched it, it radiated a pleasant warmth that seeped into his fingers.
"Is this... for me?" Harry asked, turning the curious object in his hand. Itisa bumped her head against his knee in affirmation. "Thank you, but... what exactly is it?"
Itisa merely gave him a smug look that Harry had come to interpret as, You'll figure it out eventually.
"Keeping secrets again, are we?" Harry carefully placed the mysterious gift on his bedside table. "I'll add it to the growing list of 'Magical Things Itisa Knows About But Won't Explain.'"
A soft knock interrupted their conversation. "Harry? Are you awake?" Andromeda Tonks called through the door.
"Yes, Mrs. Tonks! I'm up."
"Excellent! Breakfast in fifteen minutes. And happy birthday, dear!"
Harry grinned. "Thank you!"
He dressed quickly in jeans and a comfortable green t-shirt, tucking the strange golden sphere into his pocket. Itisa led the way downstairs, her tail held high with anticipation.
The aroma of breakfast hit him halfway down the stairs—bacon, pancakes, and something fruity. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, three voices shouted in unison:
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
The Tonks family stood beaming behind the table, which was laden with a veritable feast. Stacks of pancakes topped with fresh berries, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and a pitcher of what looked like freshly-squeezed orange juice. A small pile of wrapped presents sat at his usual place.
"You didn't have to—" Harry began.
"Oh, shut it, Potter," Nymphadora Tonks cut him off with a grin, her hair a festive birthday-cake blue. "Twelve is important. Besides, we need to fatten you up before your royal admirers see you again."
Harry felt his face grow warm. "Tonks..."
"What? Just saying the Princess might reconsider if she sees how scrawny you still are."
"Dora, leave the boy alone on his birthday," Ted said with a chuckle. "At least until after he's eaten."
Andromeda gestured to Harry's chair. "Sit, sit! Before it gets cold."
Harry sat down, momentarily overwhelmed. The Dursleys had never acknowledged his birthday, and now here was an entire family treating it like a special occasion.
"This looks amazing," he said sincerely. "Thank you."
"Eat first, presents after," Andromeda instructed, passing him the syrup.
Harry obeyed, savoring every bite of the delicious breakfast while fielding questions from the Tonks family about his plans for the day and the upcoming school year. As he ate, Itisa positioned herself strategically near Ted, who was notorious for "accidentally" dropping bacon.
When Harry finally pushed his plate away, Ted clapped his hands. "Right then! Presents?"
"Presents," Andromeda confirmed with a warm smile.
Ted pushed a rectangular package toward Harry. "This one's from me. Practical, I'm afraid, but I thought you might find it useful."
Harry unwrapped it carefully to reveal what looked like an ordinary canvas backpack in a deep navy blue.
"It's got expansion charms," Ted explained. "Not bottomless—those are regulated—but it'll hold about three times what it looks like it should. And there's a featherlight charm so you won't strain your back. Waterproof too."
"This is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, genuinely excited. "Perfect for carrying all my books and supplies."
Andromeda's gift came next—a beautifully crafted wooden box containing various tools for talisman creation: special silver knives with rune-engraved handles, tiny crystal vials of rare essence ingredients, and a journal bound in soft leather.
"The journal has preservation spells," she explained. "For recording your experiments and discoveries."
"Mrs. Tonks, this is..." Harry ran his fingers over the tools reverently. "This must have cost—"
"Not another word about cost," she said firmly. "You've earned it with your dedication."
Tonks thrust her gift at him next—a small, oddly-shaped package wrapped in what appeared to be yesterday's Daily Prophet. "My turn!"
Inside was a small figurine of a mermaid that, upon closer inspection, looked suspiciously like Princess Crystal-Harmony. When Harry touched it, the figurine animated, swimming through an invisible current and blowing kisses.
"Tonks!" Harry groaned as the Tonks parents laughed.
"What? I commissioned it special from a shop in Diagon Alley," she said innocently. "When you tap it with your wand, it'll say 'Harry, my surface hero!' I tried to get one of Fleur too, but apparently the French Ministry has rules against unauthorized—"
"I'm never living this down, am I?" Harry interrupted, his face burning despite his smile.
"Nope," Tonks confirmed cheerfully. "Not for at least a century."
After breakfast, Harry excused himself to practice with the Aqualis crystal before his friends arrived. In his room, he placed the crystal carefully on his desk, surrounding it with his notes on Anna's condition.
"There has to be a way," he murmured to Itisa, who watched him intently from the windowsill. "Princess Crystal-Harmony said Aqualis adapts to the user's needs, but I can't figure out how to direct it."
He held the crystal in his palm, feeling its cool, smooth surface grow warm against his skin. Closing his eyes, Harry concentrated on Anna—her pale face, persistent cough, and the mysterious illness that seemed resistant to conventional magical healing.
For a moment, he thought he felt something—a gentle pulse, a flicker of resonance—but it faded before he could grasp it properly.
"It's responding," Harry told Itisa excitedly. "I just need to figure out what it's trying to tell me."
From downstairs, the doorbell chimed, followed by excited voices.
"Harry!" Andromeda called. "Your friends are starting to arrive!"
Harry carefully tucked the Aqualis crystal into its holder. "Coming!"
As he headed for the door, Itisa at his heels, Harry felt a surge of happiness. Twelve years old, surrounded by friends and magic, with mysteries to solve and adventures ahead—it was more than the lonely boy in the cupboard could have ever dreamed possible.
Harry bounded down the stairs with Itisa close behind, taking the last three steps in a single leap. The moment he landed in the foyer, a blur of bushy brown hair collided with him.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, wrapping him in a fierce hug. "Happy birthday!"
"Careful, Hermione," came Susan Bones' amused voice from behind her. "Let him breathe before you squeeze the life out of our famous talisman maker."
Hermione released him, beaming. Her skin was sun-kissed, her hair even wilder than usual, and she practically vibrated with excitement.
"Sorry! It's just been ages, and I have so much to tell you about the Alps, and—oh!" She broke off, noticing Itisa, who was eyeing the newcomers with careful assessment. "Hello, Itisa. You're looking well."
The disguised Nundu gave a slow blink of acknowledgment before winding her way between Harry's legs.
"She knows it's my birthday," Harry explained with a grin. "She's being extra protective today."
"Smart cat," said Neville, stepping forward with a shy smile. He'd grown at least an inch over the summer, and his round face had thinned slightly. In his arms, he cradled a ceramic pot containing what appeared to be a miniature willow tree with luminescent blue leaves. "Happy birthday, Harry."
"Thanks, Neville! And Susan—you all came!" Harry couldn't contain his delight as he ushered them toward the living room where the Tonks family waited. "I wasn't expecting everyone so early."
"We coordinated," Susan explained, her auburn hair neatly plaited and her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Thought we'd ambush you properly. Besides, Auntie said I couldn't keep her gift waiting."
"Gifts can wait," Andromeda announced as they entered the living room. "Introductions first, please."
Harry quickly introduced everyone. Ted and Andromeda warmly greeted each of his friends while Tonks, sporting electric blue hair for the occasion, immediately engaged Hermione in animated conversation about her Alpine adventures.
"—and the magical community there lives in these gorgeous wooden chalets with expansion charms," Hermione was explaining. "They've developed specialized weather magic because of the mountain climate. Did you know they can predict avalanches three days in advance?"
"Breathe, Hermione," Harry teased, earning himself a playful swat.
"Oh, like you wouldn't have been just as excited," she retorted. "Speaking of excitement—here." She handed Harry a carefully wrapped rectangular package. "Happy birthday!"
Harry unwrapped it to find three leather-bound books: "Voice Magics of the Ancient World," "Theoretical Applications of Crystalline Resonance," and "The Alchemist's Guide to Essence Binding."
"Hermione," Harry breathed, running his fingers reverently over the embossed covers. "These are... where did you even find these?"
"There was this amazing bookshop tucked away in a magical village near Chamonix," she explained, clearly pleased by his reaction. "The owner specialized in rare magical theory texts. When I mentioned my brilliant friend who's researching talismans, he recommended these."
"This is perfect," he whispered. "Thank you."
"My turn!" Susan announced, passing Harry an envelope bearing the official seal of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "From Auntie."
Harry opened it carefully to find an official-looking document on Ministry letterhead:
To Mr. Harry James Potter,
In recognition of your significant contributions to Auror safety through your innovative talisman work, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement hereby extends an invitation for you to observe a specialized Auror training session during the winter holidays.
This permission is rarely granted to non-DMLE personnel and never to underage wizards. However, your unique insights have proven valuable to our department, and we believe this observation opportunity may inspire further innovations.
Please respond with your availability.
Yours sincerely,
Amelia Bones
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
"Susan!" Harry gasped. "Is this real? Your aunt is letting me watch Auror training?"
Susan grinned proudly. "She said the talismans you designed have already saved three Aurors from serious injuries during operations. Plus, I might have mentioned how much you'd love to see how they're being used in the field."
"This is incredible," Harry said, genuinely touched. "Please thank her for me—I mean, I'll write properly, of course, but... wow."
"She also said," Susan added with a smirk, "and I quote, 'Tell that Potter boy to bring his cat. I have questions.'"
Harry and Tonks exchanged a quick glance. Amelia Bones had long suspected there was more to Itisa than met the eye.
"Your aunt doesn't miss much, does she?" Ted remarked, impressed.
"Not a thing," Susan agreed. "It's terribly inconvenient when trying to sneak sweets before dinner."
Neville stepped forward next, carefully holding out the potted plant. "This is a Luminary Willow sapling," he explained, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke about his specialty. "They're incredibly rare—Gran helped me get permission to cultivate one from our family greenhouse."
The miniature tree seemed to shimmer as Harry took it, its blue leaves emitting a soft glow that intensified when he touched the delicate trunk.
"It's responding to your magic," Neville said excitedly. "They're sensitive to magical signatures. But that's not all they do." He pointed to the small berries nestled among the branches. "The berries have powerful healing properties, especially for respiratory ailments. I thought... well, for Anna."
Harry stared at his friend, momentarily speechless. "Neville... this is..."
"The berries only form once a year," Neville continued, suddenly nervous. "You'll need to care for it properly—morning light, not afternoon, and water with three drops of dittany solution weekly. I wrote down all the instructions." He fumbled in his pocket for a folded parchment.
"This could help Anna," Harry said quietly, carefully setting the precious plant on the coffee table. "Neville, thank you. This means more than you know."
Neville flushed with pleasure. "What are friends for?"
"Speaking of friends," Tonks interjected with a mischievous grin, "Hermione, Susan—has Harry told you about his underwater princess? Or the French veela who couldn't take her eyes off him at the Ministry ball?"
"Tonks!" Harry groaned as his friends' expressions transformed from confusion to gleeful curiosity.
"Underwater princess?" Hermione repeated, eyebrows shooting up.
"It's not—they're not—" Harry spluttered.
"Crystal-Harmony gave him a farewell kiss," Tonks supplied cheerfully. "And Fleur Delacour practically kidnapped him for the opening dance."
"Harry James Potter," Hermione said in a dangerously calm voice, "you wrote me three letters about magical creatures and talismans, but somehow failed to mention princesses?"
"Tactical error, mate," Ted said sympathetically, patting Harry's shoulder as he rose. "I'll leave you to face the inquisition while we prepare some refreshments."
"Coward," Harry muttered, but Ted just winked.
"Full report, Potter," Susan demanded, settling comfortably on the sofa. "Start with the underwater kingdom and don't leave out a single detail."
Itisa, seemingly amused by Harry's predicament, stretched out on the carpet with an expression that could only be described as smug.
"Fine," Harry sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. "It started when Newt and I arrived in France and Minister Delacour requested our help..."
As Harry recounted his adventures, occasionally interrupted by gasps and questions from his friends, a warm contentment settled over him. This—good friends, shared stories, and the promise of magic-filled days ahead—made twelve feel like the best age yet.
The living room of the Tonks residence had transformed from its usual tidy state into a sea of discarded wrapping paper, ribbons, and excited conversation. Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by his treasures: Hermione's rare books, Susan's letter from Amelia Bones, and Neville's precious Luminary Willow. Itisa had claimed a sunny spot on the windowsill, keeping one eye on the proceedings while pretending to doze.
"Almost forgot," Hermione said suddenly, diving into her bag. "The Weasley twins asked me to deliver this when I ran into them in Diagon Alley." She pulled out a small, suspiciously ordinary-looking package wrapped in brown paper.
Harry eyed it warily. "Did they mention if it's going to explode?"
"They specifically said it wouldn't," Hermione replied, then added with a grimace, "which, in retrospect, isn't entirely reassuring."
"Brave man, Potter," Tonks commented, leaning forward with undisguised interest. "Go on then."
With exaggerated caution, Harry unwrapped the package to reveal a wooden box with the letters "WWW" burned into the lid. Inside nestled an assortment of curious items: what appeared to be ordinary sweets in bright wrappers, a small vial of purple liquid, and several innocuous-looking pencils.
Attached to the box was a letter in Fred's unmistakable handwriting:
Harry-my-boy!
Happy 12th! Consider this the WWW Research and Development Starter Kit. The Canary Creams are coming along nicely (turns the eater into a canary for 30 seconds - brilliant for dinner parties), but we're still working on the Ton-Tongue Toffees (current record is 7 feet, but the reversal spell needs refinement). The purple potion makes anything it touches temporarily invisible, including body parts (not recommended for indoor use after Dad's disastrous encounter with the coffee table).
Last year's house robe-switching prank was our finest collaboration yet! McGonagall's face when her own robes turned Slytherin green mid-lecture? Priceless! We've been brainstorming for this year – how about enchanted quills that make everything written with them appear as though composed by Shakespeare? "Verily, the goblin rebellion of 1612 was most bloody and treacherous, forsooth!"
Owl us your thoughts! The Prankster Brotherhood awaits your wisdom!
Mischievously yours,
Gred & Forge
P.S. Mum says you are invited to our home anytime you want. We've told her you're busy with international diplomacy and underwater princesses. She didn't believe us until Dad confirmed the French Ministry ball. Now, she's knitting you a jumper. Consider yourself warned.
Harry laughed, passing the letter to Tonks, who read it aloud to everyone's amusement.
"I still can't believe you three pulled that off," Hermione said, shaking her head with reluctant admiration. "Professor Flitwick spent three days trying to reverse it."
"The secret," Harry explained with a grin, "was linking the charm to the house sorting enchantment itself. It kept recognizing everyone as belonging to different houses."
"Pure genius," Tonks declared proudly.
A knock at the front door interrupted their laughter. Andromeda, who had been bringing in a fresh pitcher of pumpkin juice, set it down with a mysterious smile.
"I believe that's our special guest," she announced. "Harry, would you mind getting the door?"
Harry exchanged curious glances with his friends before making his way to the entrance. When he pulled open the door, he found himself face-to-face with Newt Scamander, whose weathered face crinkled into a warm smile.
"Happy birthday, my boy!" the magizoologist exclaimed, stepping forward to clasp Harry's shoulder. On one hand, he carried a battered leather case that Harry recognized as his famous magical creature-containing suitcase, and on the other, a long, narrow package wrapped in shimmering blue paper.
"Mr. Scamander!" Harry's face lit up. "I didn't expect—I mean, thank you for coming!"
"Newt, please," the older wizard corrected gently. "And I wouldn't miss it. Not after our adventures." His eyes twinkled with fond memories of their French expedition. "Besides, I come bearing news and, of course, gifts."
As Harry led Newt into the living room, introductions were made all around. Hermione could barely contain her excitement at meeting the famous author of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," while Neville looked both awed and terrified.
"Mr. Scamander, sir," Hermione began breathlessly, "your chapter on taxonomy revisions in magical serpents completely transformed the field of herpetological magizoology. I have so many questions about—"
"Perhaps after we let Newt settle in, dear," Andromeda interjected smoothly, guiding the magizoologist to a comfortable armchair. "Tea? Or something stronger for the journey?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Newt replied, setting his case carefully on the floor beside him. The case gave a suspicious rumble, and he patted it absently. "Quiet now, they're all friends here."
Harry couldn't help but notice that Itisa had abandoned her windowsill to position herself directly across from Newt's case, her emerald eyes fixed on it with intense interest.
"Now then," Newt said once everyone was settled with refreshments, "I bring tidings from our friends beneath the waves." He turned to Harry. "King Anden sends his regards and wishes you a prosperous twelfth year. The situation with the Dark RSH has stabilized considerably. The French Ministry and Abyssantica have established a joint patrol of the border regions between their territories."
"And Crystal-Harmony?" Harry asked, ignoring Tonks' exaggerated eyebrow waggle.
"The Princess is thriving," Newt reported with a smile. "Her mastery of ice magic continues to develop. She asked me to tell you that she's begun documenting the various creatures of the deep for you." His eyes twinkled. "I believe she may be developing an interest in magizoology."
"Wonder where she got that idea," Ted commented with a chuckle.
"Speaking of which," Newt continued, presenting the long package to Harry, "your birthday gift. Open it carefully, if you would."
Harry unwrapped the package with reverent hands to reveal what appeared to be an ornate walking stick crafted from pale, iridescent wood. Intricate carvings of magical creatures spiraled up its length, and the handle was shaped like a phoenix with outstretched wings.
"This," Newt explained as Harry admired it, "is crafted from the branch of a Sentinel Tree that grows in the heart of the Amazon. These trees absorb magical resonances from all creatures that pass beneath them. When a magizoologist—or someone with your particular talents—holds it, it can help locate magical creatures."
"It's beautiful," Harry whispered, running his fingers along the carvings.
"Try holding it properly," Newt encouraged. "Like a walking staff."
The moment Harry gripped it as instructed, the carvings began to glow softly. The phoenix handle warmed in his palm, and he felt a gentle vibration pulse through the wood.
"It's responding to something," Harry said, eyes wide with wonder.
"To Itisa, most likely," Newt said with a hushed tone, who was now watching the staff with fascination. "And probably to whatever's stirring in my case. The staff resonates with magical creatures nearby. With practice, you'll learn to interpret the different vibrations and discover creatures that might otherwise remain hidden."
"This is incredible," Harry breathed. "Thank you, Newt."
"There's more," Newt added, reaching into his pocket to produce an envelope. "This arrived for you at my residence in Dorset. Apparently, the French owls were instructed to find me if they couldn't locate you directly."
The envelope bore an elegant script and a faint scent of lavender. Harry recognized the handwriting immediately, and his cheeks warmed.
"Is that from who I think it is?" Susan asked, leaning forward with undisguised curiosity.
"Go on, Harry," Tonks urged with a mischievous grin. "Read it aloud. We're all family here."
"I most certainly will not," Harry replied, tucking the envelope safely away. "It's private correspondence."
"Spoilsport," Tonks pouted.
"There's also this," Newt added, producing a small package wrapped in silver paper. "The young lady was quite insistent it reach you by your birthday."
Harry accepted the package with a mumbled thanks, his face now distinctly pink. Deciding to face the inevitable, he carefully unwrapped it to reveal a delicate crystal pendant shaped like a water droplet suspended on a silver chain. Inside the crystal, tiny blue flames danced and swirled, casting a soft azure glow.
"Merlin's beard," Ted breathed, leaning closer. "Is that Gubraithian Fire? The everlasting flame?"
"A variation," Newt confirmed, clearly impressed. "French magical artisans are known for their work with perpetual elemental enchantments. This is quite a valuable gift."
"It's beautiful," Hermione observed, studying the pendant with academic interest. "The containment spell work must be extraordinary."
"Someone's got an admirer," Tonks sang, nudging Harry with her elbow.
"It's just a thank-you gift."
"Of course it is," Susan agreed with exaggerated seriousness. "I always send magical artifacts containing rare eternal flames to boys I'm not interested in."
As the group dissolved into laughter at Harry's expense, Newt caught his eye and gestured subtly toward the garden door. "Perhaps we could step outside for a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss privately."
Grateful for the escape, Harry nodded. "We'll just be a minute," he told the others, following Newt out into the summer sunshine with Itisa trailing behind.
In the garden, surrounded by Andromeda's meticulously tended magical herbs and flowers, Newt turned to Harry with a more serious expression.
"Your voice magic," he began without preamble. "It's developing faster than I anticipated. The incident with the Leviathan concerned me."
Harry's grip tightened on his new staff. "I don't even know how I did it. It just... happened."
"Precisely what worries me," Newt replied gently. "Untrained magical talents of that magnitude can be dangerous—to others, yes, but primarily to yourself." He studied Harry thoughtfully. "I understand you've been receiving guidance from... an unexpected source?"
Harry nodded, knowing Newt referred to Loretta Emrys. "She says I need to learn control, but the lessons are... difficult to apply in the waking world."
"Indeed." Newt's gaze drifted to Itisa, who had positioned herself protectively at Harry's side. "You have exceptional gifts, Harry. Your connection to magical creatures, your voice magic, your innovative approach to talismans—these are rare talents individually, and virtually unheard of in combination."
"What should I do?" Harry asked.
"Practice," Newt advised simply. "Start small—try calling garden gnomes or pixies before attempting anything larger. And write to me regularly about your progress." He smiled reassuringly. "You're not alone in this journey, Harry. Remember that."
Harry nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Newt. For everything."
As they turned to rejoin the party, Newt added with a twinkle in his eye, "And perhaps consider responding to the young lady's letter. In my experience, it's unwise to keep a part-Veela waiting too long."
Harry's renewed blush followed him all the way back to his birthday celebration.
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The afternoon was waning when the doorbell chimed once more. Harry, in the midst of demonstrating his new magizoological staff to his enthralled friends, looked up expectantly.
"I'll get it," Ted offered, setting down his teacup. He returned moments later with two familiar figures: Sebastian Sallow and beside him, Anna.
"Sorry we're late," Sebastian announced, supporting Anna with a gentle hand at her elbow. "Someone insisted on finding the perfect wrapping paper."
Anna Sallow looked marginally better than when Harry had last seen her. Her dark hair had regained some luster, and though still thin, her face carried more color. The ever-present shadows beneath her eyes had lightened somewhat, but Harry couldn't help noticing the way she leaned on her brother for support.
"It's not every day our favorite talisman maker turns twelve," Anna said with a smile that transformed her fragile features. "Happy birthday, Harry."
"Anna! Sebastian!" Harry crossed the room quickly, unable to hide his delight. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."
"Wild hippogriffs couldn't keep us away," Sebastian replied, carefully helping Anna to an armchair that Andromeda had hurriedly cleared of gift wrappings. "Though I did have to promise Healer Matthews we wouldn't stay too long."
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked Anna quietly, perching on the ottoman beside her chair.
"Better some days than others," she answered honestly. "The new potions regimen is helping, I think. I managed a whole week without that wretched cough."
Sebastian placed an ornate wooden box in Harry's hands. The box itself was a work of art, inlaid with mother-of-pearl in patterns that shifted like clouds.
"This box was crafted by artisans in Japan," Sebastian explained. "It's enchanted to preserve whatever you keep inside at the perfect condition—ideal for delicate magical ingredients or artifacts."
Harry opened it carefully to reveal a set of crystalline vials nestled in velvet. Each contained a different substance that seemed to glow from within.
"Essence extracts," Sebastian continued. "Phoenix tears, freely given; moonlight captured during a total lunar eclipse; morning dew from a mandrake leaf; and distilled dragon's breath. For your talismans."
"These are... Sebastian, these are incredibly rare," Harry breathed, examining the vials with reverence. "This must have cost—"
"A reasonable investment in the wizard who's determined to help my sister," Sebastian interrupted smoothly. "Besides, I have contacts in the potions world who owed me favors."
An idea struck Harry suddenly. "Anna, I want to show you something." He dashed upstairs, returning moments later with the Aqualis crystal.
"It's beautiful," she whispered as Harry placed it carefully in her hands.
"It's from Abyssantica," Harry explained. "Princess Crystal-Harmony gave it to me. It has healing properties, and I've been trying to figure out how to use it properly." He hesitated, then added softly, "For you."
Anna's eyes widened. "Harry, you don't have to—"
"I want to," he said firmly. "And now with Neville's Luminary Willow and these essence extracts... I think I'm getting closer to creating something that might help."
Sebastian watched them with carefully controlled emotion. "Thank You, Harry."
"I promise I won't give up," Harry told Anna, meeting her gaze steadily. "Whatever it takes."
Anna's fingers tightened around the crystal. "I know you won't," she whispered. "That's why I'm not afraid anymore."
A small barn owl chose that moment to swoop through the open window, dropping a letter directly into Harry's lap before circling once and departing just as swiftly.
"Efficient delivery," Tonks commented, eyebrows raised.
Harry examined the envelope, immediately recognizing the elegant, precise handwriting. "It's from... Daphne Greengrass?" he said with genuine surprise.
"The Ice Queen of Slytherin?" Susan asked, looking equally shocked. "I didn't realize you two were friendly."
"We're not, exactly," Harry replied, carefully opening the letter. "We've partnered in Potions a few times, but she barely speaks to anyone."
He read the short note silently:
Potter,
Consider this acknowledgment of your natal anniversary a recognition of your adequate performance in representing Slytherin House despite your unconventional associations.
The enclosed item belonged to my great-grandmother. It identifies poisons when they come near—useful, given your apparent talent for attracting trouble.
Do try not to die before second year begins. It would be inconvenient to find a new Potions partner.
Greengrass
Inside the envelope was a small, exquisitely crafted emerald pendant shaped like a coiled snake. As Harry lifted it, the snake's tiny ruby eyes glinted in the light.
"Well?" Hermione prompted. "What does she say?"
Harry smiled, tucking the note away. "In her own uniquely Daphne way, I think she just offered me friendship."
As evening approached, Andromeda disappeared into the kitchen with a meaningful glance at Ted, who promptly engaged everyone in an animated discussion about the latest Quidditch standings. Harry, catching their not-so-subtle coordination, exchanged amused looks with Tonks.
"Subtle, aren't they?" Tonks whispered, her hair shifting to a conspiratorial purple.
Before Harry could respond, the lights dimmed unexpectedly. A warm glow emanated from the kitchen doorway as Andromeda emerged, carefully levitating what could only be described as a masterpiece of confectionery magic.
The cake floated before her, three tiers of chocolate and vanilla swirled together in a marbled pattern. Atop it, miniature magical creatures crafted from sugar and spellwork moved about a tiny landscape. Harry spotted a hippogriff taking flight, a mermaid diving into a blue fondant lake, and what appeared to be a minuscule Nundu prowling around the perimeter—a detail that made Itisa's tail twitch with interest.
Twelve candles hovered above the creation, their flames changing color in a rhythmic pattern that cast dancing shadows across the room.
"Make a wish, Harry," Andromeda said warmly as she guided the cake to the table before him.
Everyone gathered around, their faces illuminated by the shifting candlelight. Harry felt a sudden tightness in his throat as he looked at the circle of friends—his chosen family—watching him with such genuine affection.
"Before you blow out the candles," Ted announced, "tradition demands the birthday song!"
What followed was perhaps the most enthusiastic if slightly off-key rendition of "Happy Birthday" Harry had ever heard. Newt's baritone blended with Hermione's precise alto, while Tonks deliberately changed pitch with each line, her hair flashing different colors to match. Sebastian joined in with surprising gusto, and even Anna's soft voice carried clearly through the chorus.
As they reached the final notes, the sugar creatures on the cake began to harmonize, adding an ethereal quality to the final "Happy birthday to you!"
"Now wish!" Susan urged, her eyes bright with excitement.
Harry closed his eyes, thinking carefully. Last year, he'd wished simply for Itisa to be safe. This year...
...
Taking a deep breath, he blew out all twelve candles in one go. The room erupted in cheers and applause.
The moment the final flame extinguished, the sugar creatures on the cake burst into a spectacular performance. The hippogriff soared in circles, trailing sparks of golden light. The mermaid leapt from her lake, transforming the blue fondant into a fountain of glittering droplets. Around the cake's edge, the sugar Nundu unleashed a harmless but impressive display of miniature rainbow-colored "breath" that cascaded down the sides like a waterfall of light.
"Andromeda!" Harry gasped, watching the display in awe. "This is incredible magic!"
"Just a few charms," she replied with a pleased smile, though the complexity of the spellwork was evident to everyone. "Now, who wants the first slice?"
As Andromeda served generous portions of the delicious cake—which tasted even better than it looked—Harry found himself wondering if any birthday could possibly top this one.
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The house had fallen quiet. The last guests—Hermione and her parents—had departed just after sunset, with promises to meet in Diagon Alley for school shopping. Now, he was in his room, sitting crosslegged on his bed.
Hedwig had returned from her evening hunt to find the celebration concluded, and now perched regally on the windowsill, occasionally hooting soft commentary as Harry cataloged his gifts. Itisa lay curled at the foot of the bed, one emerald eye occasionally opening to track his movements.
"Quite a haul this year," Harry murmured, stroking Hedwig's feathers. The snowy owl nipped his finger affectionately, as if to say, You deserve it all.
He reached for the journal Andromeda had given him, running his fingers over the supple leather cover. Opening it to the first blank page, he dipped his quill in ink and began to write:
July 31, 1992 – My twelfth birthday
Today was... perfect. I never imagined having friends who would travel just to celebrate with me, or gifts chosen with such care.
Hermione brought rare books, Susan arranged for me to observe Auror training, and Neville gave me a Luminary Willow that might help Anna. The Weasley twins sent joke prototypes, Tonks gave me that ridiculous Crystal-Harmony figure (which I'm keeping hidden forever), and Daphne Greengrass, of all people, sent a poison-detecting pendant.
Newt's gift might be the most incredible—a magizoologist's staff that helps locate magical creatures. He's concerned about my voice magic after the Leviathan incident, and honestly, so am I. I need to practice controlling it better.
The Aqualis crystal responds when I focus on healing Anna, but I still can't direct it properly. With Neville's Willow and Sebastian's essence extracts, I might be able to create something that truly helps her. I have to try.
This next year at Hogwarts will be challenging. There's so much to learn, not just from classes but from Loretta's dream visits too.
Harry paused in his writing as Itisa suddenly lifted her head, ears pricked forward. A strange gurgling sound, almost like water flowing through pipes, emanated briefly from somewhere in the walls. After a moment of alert tension, Itisa relaxed again, seemingly dismissing the noise.
"Probably just the plumbing," Harry murmured, though something about the sound had raised the hair on the back of his neck. He shook off the feeling and returned to his journal.
P.S. I should write to Fleur tomorrow to thank her for the pendant. And maybe to Crystal-Harmony too, though I'm not sure how mail delivery works to underwater kingdoms. Perhaps Newt would know.
Closing the journal, Harry gathered his gifts and arranged them carefully on his desk. The Luminary Willow went on the windowsill where it could catch the morning light. Daphne's poison-detecting snake pendant he placed beside his bed, its ruby eyes gleaming watchfully. Fleur's everlasting flame pendant he hung from his bedpost, where the dancing blue flames cast calming patterns across the ceiling.
Crossing to the window, Harry pushed it wider open and gazed up at the star-filled summer sky. Somewhere out there was Hogwarts, waiting for his return. Somewhere beneath the waves, Crystal-Harmony practiced her ice magic. Somewhere in France, Fleur Delacour perhaps thought of the unusual British boy she'd danced with.
And here, in this room that felt more like home than any place he'd known, Harry Potter stood on the threshold of his twelfth year, filled with a profound sense of possibility.
"Whatever comes next," he whispered to the night, "I'm ready."
As Harry turned from the window, something caught his eye—a subtle gleam from the shadows beside his wardrobe. He narrowed his eyes, certain that spot had been empty moments ago.
"What's that?" he murmured, approaching cautiously.
A package wrapped in plain brown paper sat on the floor, tied with simple twine. Harry was positive it hadn't been there when he'd returned to his room. Itisa raised her head, eyeing the package with equal curiosity but showing no signs of alarm.
"Did you see who brought this?" Harry asked both his animal companions.
Hedwig hooted a negative response, while Itisa simply blinked slowly, offering no explanation.
Harry knelt beside the mysterious delivery. No name adorned the exterior, but when he carefully untied the twine, a folded parchment slipped out from beneath the wrapping. The handwriting was unfamiliar—elegant but clearly disguised, with no signature at the bottom:
This belonged to your father, James. He left it in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
A peculiar tingling ran up Harry's spine. Something from his father? He'd inherited so little—just his vault key and whatever was inside it. Nothing personal, nothing that James Potter had actually held and used.
With trembling fingers, Harry unwrapped the package to reveal a fluid, silvery-gray material unlike anything he'd ever seen. It slithered through his hands like water woven into cloth, impossibly light yet somehow substantial.
"What is this?" he whispered, standing to hold it up.
The material unfurled, revealing itself to be a cloak. Moonlight streamed through the window, catching the fabric and making it shimmer with an otherworldly iridescence.
Acting on instinct, Harry swung the cloak around his shoulders.
Itisa made a startled noise—something between a chirp and a growl—while Hedwig nearly fell off her perch in surprise.
Harry looked down at himself and gasped. His body had vanished completely. He rushed to the small mirror hanging on his wardrobe door and found only his disembodied head floating in midair, mouth agape in shock.
"An invisibility cloak," he breathed. "A real one."
He'd read about them, of course. They were incredibly rare and valuable, most of them imperfect, their enchantments fading over time. Yet this one seemed flawless, and according to the note, it had belonged to his father.
Pulling the hood over his head, Harry vanished completely. For a long moment, he simply stood there, invisible to the world yet more connected to his past than he'd ever felt before.
"Dad's cloak," he whispered into the quiet room. "He really wore this."
Hedwig hooted softly, while Itisa padded over to where he stood, invisibility no barrier to her keen senses. She pressed against his invisible legs, a gesture of reassurance that brought unexpected tears to his eyes.
Carefully removing the cloak, Harry folded it with reverence and placed it in Sebastian's preservation box.
"Thank you," he whispered to the unknown sender, feeling that somehow, somewhere, they might hear him. "I'll use it well. I promise."
The Ministry of Magic
In the Minister of Magic's office, Cornelius Fudge sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of parchment. His quill scratched across document after document, his signature becoming more harried with each passing minute. The lines on his face seemed to deepen as he worked, exhaustion evident in every movement. A soft knock at the door interrupted his task.
"Come in," he called, not looking up from his work.
Dolores Umbridge entered, her pink cardigan looking very out of place for an office like this. "Good evening, Minister," she simpered. "I couldn't help but notice you were working late again. Is everything alright?"
Fudge sighed heavily, finally setting down his quill. "It's these blasted contracts, Dolores. The Potter boy's talismans... they're working better than anyone anticipated. Amelia Bones is pushing for a massive increase in our order."
"Oh my," Umbridge said. "That does sound troublesome. And expensive, I imagine?"
"You have no idea," Fudge grumbled. "We're holding another meeting tomorrow to vote on the budget allocation. But I already know how it's going to go - the majority will vote to buy more. The Auror department has been singing their praises non-stop."
Umbridge's eyes narrowed slightly. "It does seem... inappropriate for a child to be asking for so much from the Ministry, doesn't it? Surely there must be some way to negotiate a more favorable arrangement?"
Fudge shook his head dejectedly. "I've tried, Dolores. But with the results we're seeing, and with Bones, Moody, and Dumbledore himself backing him... there's not much to be done. We're locked into the contract."
A slow, calculating smile spread across Umbridge's face. "Perhaps not, Minister. I believe I may have an idea that could... rebalance the scales, as it were."
Fudge looked up, a glimmer of hope in his tired eyes. "Go on, Dolores. I'm all ears."
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