Magic? || Years 5-7

Harry's Birthday: Year 7/Summer

The Delacours arrived by Portkey the following morning. Too many protections around the Burrow for them to arrive directly by magic. They were far lovelier than Amisty had been expecting—not that she was complaining—and both of Fleur's parents insisted on helping to lighten the load of wedding preparations.

Amisty did her best to turn a blinde eye to the platinum blonde hair and rapid French, even though her heart did a strange twisting thing in her chest whenever she caught the tail end of a sentence.

It also didn't help that with the arrival of more guests, any attempt to make plans was foiled. The Burrow was too crowded to bother, nearly every room taken up, and even as they volunteered to feed the chickens they couldn't quite seem to shake Mrs. Weasley.

On the morning of Harry's seventeenth birthday, however, the overcrowded house didn't bother Amisty as much.

"I bet Harry was allowed to do magic as soon as he woke up," Amisty muttered, and no she was not bitter, she was. . . mildly peeved. "His stupid Trace thing probably broke right away and there's no way there's any reason to keep him from casting any spells all day. Of course not."

Hermione found this very amusing.

But because Amisty is a wonderful friend—regardless of her non-bitterness—she still tied a bow around Harry's birthday present and dropped it on top of the pile as they came down for breakfast.

"Happy birthday!" she said, flinging her arms around in a hug before sliding into her seat. "Open it!"

He grinned, setting aside the shiny new Sneakoscope Hermione had gifted him, and pulled the ribbon free. It was a mason jar, the lid tightly sealed, tiny balls of golden light bouncing around inside.

"It's not much," Amisty said with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of her neck. "But it stays lit no matter what, underwater and everything, and it's a little easier to control than fire, so I figured—"

But she was cut off as he swung her into a hug, her feet leaving the ground for a moment as he spun her around. Amisty batted at his shoulders without malice until he set her down.

"I like it," he said earnestly, smile crooked. "Thanks, Am."

"Just don't ruin it," she said, leaning over to rap her wand on the lid three times. The lights flickered then faded, falling to the bottom soundlessly. "That's how you turn it off."

"Great."

They didn't bother lingering at the breakfast table much longer than that, after the rest of the Delacours made the kitchen a little too overcrowded for comfort.

"I'll pack these for you," Hermione said, sweeping Harry's presents into her arms and Levitating the rest behind her. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron—"

Ron spluttered, red in the face, but then Ginny's bedroom door opened.

"Harry, will you come in here a moment?"

Amisty tilted her head to the side, words passing between them with eyes alone and a subtle dip of the chin. She relayed the message to Hermione, and the two of them promptly grabbed Ron by the elbows and dragged him up the stairs.

"They shouldn't be alone together!" Ron hissed as soon as they were out of earshot, tugging on Hermione and Amisty's iron-clad grips. "He's going to do something stupid and you both know how broken up Ginny was about—"

"She just wants to say happy birthday, Ron," Hermione said, tucking Harry's presents away in her bottomless bag.

"Don't you dare." Amisty raised her wand menacingly as Ron went to push her out of the way. She was standing guard at the door, and no amount of headcraning made her glare any less threatening. "Two minutes. Then we'll grab him."