LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 157: A Letter from Austria
For most people, birthdays are a special day.
For Harry, birthdays weren't particularly special—just a day to receive a pile of presents.
He got up early, washed up, and went downstairs. As soon as he reached the living room, he saw a mountain of gifts stacked high, almost touching the ceiling.
Fleamont teased him with a grin.
"My dear Harry, happy birthday."
"Thank you," Harry smiled and nodded politely in response.
"You're far more popular than James ever was," Fleamont said with a sigh. "He used to get twenty, maybe thirty gifts on his birthday."
"I spent all night counting the owls," Fleamont continued. "I wanted to see if my dear grandson was well-liked at school. I didn't expect so many owls that I lost count! Even now, they're still coming."
Just as he finished speaking, another owl flew through the doorway, dropping a gift onto the pile before landing on Harry's shoulder, hooting twice.
"I don't know where Hedwig is," Harry said, responding to the owl. "She went out early this morning."
The owl nodded in gratitude, gave a flap of its wings, and flew away.
"There are still owls coming in," Fleamont added, revising his estimate. "There must be at least fifty or sixty gifts now!"
"Be careful," Fleamont warned. "There are always some little witches who like to sneak love potions into birthday gifts. Even James nearly fell for that trick once."
Harry nodded.
"My potion skills aren't too bad."
With a wave of his wand, the mountain of gifts flew to a less obstructive corner of the room. Instead of opening the presents, Harry headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for his two elders.
After finishing the meal, he went upstairs to drag them out of bed.
Even on his birthday, training had to continue.
It was the same every year. The year before and the year before that, Harry would finish his training session and then share a drink with Professor Flitwick—that was enough celebration for him.
The training session ended.
The sun set, and stars filled the sky.
Sirius lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath. He'd just been "humiliated" by Professor Flitwick again, who praised him for barely reaching the level Harry had achieved right after last year's summer break.
"Professor, care for a drink?" Harry waved his wand, lifting his godfather off the ground.
"I'll call Uncle Remus to join us."
Flitwick gave a mysterious smile.
"Why not go home instead?"
"That works too." Harry nodded. "I still have plenty of liquor at home."
They strolled back slowly. As they neared the old Potter residence, Sirius suddenly struggled to get down from Harry's magical hold.
This wasn't like Sirius at all.
After every training session, he usually wished Harry could carry him straight to bed.
But now, he insisted on walking the rest of the way himself. He even cast two Scourgify spells on himself and followed up with a Beautification Charm.
When they arrived at the Potter residence, Harry noticed something unusual in the yard—scattered footprints. They were fresh, made sometime between noon and now.
Inside, near the door, he could hear nearly ten heartbeats, along with hushed whispers. It was George and Fred Weasley, discussing which fireworks to use, but they couldn't seem to agree.
"Did you invite people over?" Harry asked his godfather.
Sirius looked surprised.
"How did you know?"
"Harry is sharp," Flitwick said, rubbing his face. "Did you spot any clues?"
"George and Fred are too noisy," Harry replied with a nod. "They're debating whether to use Firework No. 2 or No. 3."
Sirius strained to listen but heard nothing.
With a flick of Harry's wand, the front door swung open.
Bang!
Fireworks and confetti exploded, shooting toward the doorway.
But there was no one standing there.
The people inside watched in stunned silence as the longest streamer drooped down, brushing Harry's toes before hitting the floor.
"Harry! How could you be so lazy!" Fred stomped his foot in frustration. "You couldn't even open the door by hand?"
"Firework No. 2?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you couldn't convince George."
Fred scratched his head sheepishly, while George chuckled.
Ron, holding a firework in his hand, muttered, "I knew we couldn't hide this from Harry. He's too perceptive—he can even hear heartbeats."
"Well then," Fred clapped his hands, grinning, "happy birthday, Harry!"
As he rummaged through his robe, he added, "Were you a little disappointed this morning when you realized we hadn't sent you a gift?"
That last question was directed at Sirius.
Sirius racked his brain, replaying the day in his mind. The only time Harry had shown any emotion was when he got "one-hit KO'd" by Flitwick during training. Other than that, Harry maintained his usual stoic expression.
Suddenly, Sirius froze.
"Wait—you haven't opened any of your presents yet?"
He turned to Harry, shocked.
"Harry! You haven't opened your gifts all day?"
"No rush. They won't fly away," Harry shrugged.
Sirius grabbed his hair, groaning in frustration.
"Damn, I'm such a terrible godfather! I dragged you to see Flitwick today instead of letting you celebrate."
"Sirius," Flitwick interjected, looking conflicted. "Have you considered… just maybe… Harry was the one who dragged you to my office for extra lessons?"
Harry smiled gently.
"Godfather, the fact that you lasted longer in training today makes me happy. You've started using your brain—that's the best gift you could give me."
Sirius snorted.
"I've got more gifts for you than that."
He gave Harry a gentle shove toward the house.
Hidden among the crowd, someone's heartbeat quickened nervously.
Harry didn't dodge.
Pop!
Hermione suddenly jumped out, pulling a party popper. Gold and red streamers rained down on Harry, covering him from head to toe.
Fred burst into laughter.
"Harry! You still fell for it!"
George nodded smugly.
"That was the plan. Little Ron said you'd dodge, so we went with a decoy attack—Hermione was our main striker."
"Happy birthday," Hermione said sweetly, smiling at Harry.
"Thank you," Harry returned her smile.
Ron wiggled his eyebrows at Harry.
"Hey, Harry, haven't you noticed something different about Hermione today?"
"Teeth straightened, hair styled," Harry replied casually. "She's wearing makeup too."
Hermione's ears turned red, the blush quickly spreading to her cheeks.
"You shouldn't use purple eyeshadow," Harry advised sincerely. "Try a soft gold instead. And your lipstick is too dark—I'd recommend cherry red."
Ron rubbed his face in exasperation.
"How do you notice these things so fast? I only noticed after Mum pointed them out."
The Weasleys were all there, except for the two eldest, who were at work. But their gifts had arrived.
Charlie sent a set of dragon figurines and a book titled Deadly Dragons. Unlike the alchemy books Harry usually read, this one detailed dragon behavior and their vulnerabilities.
Bill sent a miniature pyramid. Inside were tiny mummy figures that crawled around when the lid was opened.
Hermione gifted Harry a white-dial watch imbued with light magic, which she'd been working on since the school term ended.
Sirius's gift was flashier—two Triumph Speedmaster motorcycles. One was black, the other red and gold, modeled after a lion. He originally wanted to make it a griffin, but the lion's head looked more majestic.
Arthur Weasley was fascinated, pulling Sirius aside for a whispered discussion.
Even Snape sent a gift—five of Lily's potions notebooks, two of his own, and a letter criticizing Harry's reckless use of magic, along with suggestions for improving his Thunder Potion.
Dumbledore's gift was a collection of his magical insights.
The professors' and adults' gifts were practical. The students' gifts? Less so.
Harry received twelve boxes of chocolate—all laced with love potions. Other gifts also hid love potions in drinks and potions.
Hermione sorted them out, incinerating them after Crookshanks shredded them to pieces.
Finally, under the pile of gifts, Harry noticed an unremarkable black box.
It bore a line of glowing, blue ink:
"Happy birthday, Harry Potter. Please open the box. Inside is my gift and a letter for you."
After checking for hexes, Harry carefully opened the box. Inside was just a letter.
Harry opened it.
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