Triumph of the Last Marauder<\/B><\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The whole summer,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry repeated dully.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m afraid so, Harry,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus sighed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I know it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s horrible, but right now you need all the protection you can get, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m afraid with your relatives is the safest place. Even safer than with us at the headquarters.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The whole summer.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry felt as though he had lost all ability to respond in any way, except to repeat this statement.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d promise you that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d come and visit,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus continued miserably, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153but between missions you won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t see much of us, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m afraid.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The whole summer.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, Harry,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus finally just agreed with him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The whole summer.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do you still have some of Sirius\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 things at the Lodge?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry asked for seemingly no reason at all.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Er\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6yes,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus answered hesitantly, caught completely off-guard.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Would you mind,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry came to a quick decision, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153if I looked through them during my last Hogsmead weekend?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Remus stared at Harry for several long moments, and Harry stared right back.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll talk to Dumbledore,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he finally replied. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a little unusual\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6but I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t doubt he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll give in to this request, given this other news.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
Harry sneezed convulsively from the disturbed dust, and a muffled and emotional \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcbless you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 came from the other side of the attic. Harry acknowledged it with a grunt of thanks and delved back into the box.<\/p>\n
Underneath a patched robe, some Quidditch magazines, and a book (Sirius owned a book? Who knew?) Harry found what he was looking for.<\/p>\n
The owner\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s manual to a 1968 Triumph Bonneville, Cardinal Red.<\/p>\n
\tHarry thumbed the dog-eared pages for a minute before reluctantly setting it down in a small pile of things he wanted to take with him.<\/p>\n
Looking through the pile before Harry left, Remus raised an eyebrow at the manual and brushed a hand across the cover lightly, but didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say anything.<\/p>\n
\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
\tHarry was relatively silent during the customary trip home for the summer. He privately thought that Hermione was doing enough carrying on for a hundred of him.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s completely unfair!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Hermione exclaimed for the five hundredth time, and Harry gave a grunt remarkably like the last 499 grunts.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Will you SHUT UP?!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Ron finally exploded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You saying that every other moment won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t make it less unfair, all right?!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d think they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d learn their lesson about imprisoning people after Sirius is all,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she sniffed before falling silent, too irritated to remember she had made all of them promise not to use Sirius\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 name in from of Harry.<\/p>\n
\tShe didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t speak again until she hugged Harry goodbye at the station.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t enchant anything either,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she admonished him, giving a suspicious glance at Harry\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s things, in which she knew was buried the Triumph\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s manual.<\/p>\n
Harry refrained from commenting that since he had been allowed to take his Tests early, he could enchant any damn thing he pleased.<\/p>\n
\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
Harry had been home just long enough to put his trunk in Dudley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s second bedroom before he let himself out, answering Petunia\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s first shrieked question with an \u00e2\u20ac\u0153OUT!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and her second with a \u00e2\u20ac\u0153LATER!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\tHarry walked into town, not caring how long it took him, or that Mrs. Figg\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cat was clearly following him. In fact, he stopped for a moment so that the cat could catch up with him, and they continued on in companionable silence after exchanging a nod of greeting. <\/p>\n
At the first phone booth they passed, Harry paused to leaf through the directory, stopping at the page marked \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Motorbike Repair.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Rifling through his pockets for a scrap of paper to write on, Harry scribbled down the address and continued on his way. <\/p>\n
Harry had completely lost track of the time by the time he was standing in front of the shop. Checking the address one last time, Harry shoved the crinkled piece of paper back in his pocket and went into the garage.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hello?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry called, his voice echoing weirdly off the concrete and metal parts.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oi, who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d someone called back. Harry took a few steps further into the cool shade of the garage and caught sight of a mechanic sliding out from underneath a bike he was working on.<\/p>\n
As the mechanic sat up and ran a hand through his bright red hair, Harry was forcibly reminded of several Weasleys at once, a strange cross between Bill and the twins and a young Arthur.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m Harry Potter,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he answered, pausing for the usual beat before he remembered that a Muggle mechanic in Surrey was not going to be impressed with that. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I want to build a motorbike.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The mechanic let out an abrasive bark of laughter.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Any particular kind of motorbike you want?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked, clearly humoring Harry.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153A Triumph,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry replied promptly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Preferably a Bonneville from the late 60\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The mechanic stopped laughing and took a better look at Harry.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How old are you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Seventeen by August,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry answered.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gettin\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 an A2?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the mechanic pried further. Harry nodded, even though he had no intention of investing the time and certainly not the money that it took to get licensed for anything in Britain. He was fully confident of his ability to alter someone else\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s license, and if all else failed there was always Fred and George.<\/p>\n
\tThe mechanic seemed to consider all of this, still sizing Harry up.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How much time you willing to put into it?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153All day, every day, all summer,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry told him firmly.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And what exactly do you know about motorbikes?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the mechanic inquired.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not a damn thing,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry replied bluntly.<\/p>\n
The mechanic stood up slowly, never taking his eyes off Harry, pulling a cloth from the pocket of his overalls and starting to wipe the grease off his hands.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tell me why,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153My godfather had a 1968 Triumph Bonneville that he loved more than anything except me,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry answered, managing to keep most of the pain out of his voice.<\/p>\n
The mechanic thought this over silently the whole time he was wiping off his hands.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153By a strange coincidence,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he finally said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153A couple weeks ago, I acquired a large lot of very poor condition classic motorbike parts. It just so happens that among that lot are most of the parts one would required to rebuild a functional 1968 Triumph Bonneville.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a rather strange coincidence,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry agreed, wondering silently what \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcmost of the parts\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 meant.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not worth my time to strip all those parts and reconstruct a bike,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the mechanic continued, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153not to mention I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got one hell of a backlog already this summer, and the kid who worked here last summer left for university. So I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got something of a proposition for you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Harry listened to all of this silently with growing disbelief. It couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be this easy.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You help me out here for the summer, and you can have whatever Triumph parts are salvageable as pay. Any parts not in the lot you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll have to get yourself, but you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll learn what you need to know. You willing to work your arse off for this?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Harry was beyond words for a minute.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153When can I start?!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he exclaimed.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s as good a time as any,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the mechanic shrugged. He extended a hand for Harry to shake. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Name\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Mick.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
Harry exited the garage as dusk was falling, sweaty and grease-stained but feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Mrs. Figg\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cat, which had been waiting patiently outside, gave its paw a last lick and fell into step with Harry.<\/p>\n
It was full dark when Harry trudged up the Dursleys’ driveway. He was exhausted, hungry, and clearly needed a hot shower, but he stopped in front of the garage and lifted the door up. The repository for seventeen years worth of Dudley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s birthday and Christmas presents, the garage was stuffed to the gills with crap, and just opening the door sent several tennis balls and a skateboard rolling down the driveway.<\/p>\n
Harry watched them go, mentally calculating how much work would be necessary before he could even step inside the garage, much less build a motorbike in it. Probably about as much time as it would take to teach him to put one together, he reasoned. <\/p>\n
Suddenly the screen door slammed open and Aunt Petunia leaned out.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get IN here!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she hissed at Harry. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The neighbors will see you!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Shutting the garage door with a final glance at the clutter, Harry trudged inside. He kicked off his trainers inside the door and picked them up while Petunia was still spitting her opening statements.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve RUINED those trousers!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she was howling. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We buy you perfectly good clothes\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t bought me anything in years,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry cut her off dismissively. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I bought these, and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all right if they are ruined, because I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to go on wearing them to my summer job every day. The whole summer.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Petunia spluttered something else, but Harry smiled to himself suddenly, thinking that this was the first time that those three words in that order had brought him any joy ever in his entire life.<\/p>\n
*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
\tHarry quickly settled into a routine. Six days a week he would get up early, ignore any Dursleys who happened to be puttering about, and walk into town to work with Mick. Harry picked up a knack for motorbike repair quickly and enjoyed the purely physical aspect of his work. He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to think about anything besides what was immediately in front of him, a privilege Harry had not experienced in a long time. <\/p>\n
Harry immensely enjoyed working for Mick, who was patient about Harry\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s complete ignorance of mechanical things. Mick made Harry\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s homesickness for his friends simultaneously more acute and easier to bear by being so Weasley-esque at times that Harry had to restrain himself from asking whether or not Mick had some queer relatives in Ottery St. Catchpole.<\/p>\n
Sundays, when Mick\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s garage was closed, Harry worked on clearing out the Dursleys’ garage. The trick to that had been making Uncle Vernon think it had been his idea to \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcforce\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 Harry to tidy the garage up, under pretence of putting the car back in it, something that hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t happened since before Harry went to Hogwarts.<\/p>\n
A hidden benefit, Harry soon discovered, was that the Dursleys honestly had no idea what was in the garage. Accordingly, Harry began steadily taking some smaller items into town on the weekdays and selling them to any shop that would have them. This solved the problem of how Harry was going to buy the missing parts for his Triumph.<\/p>\n
\tThree weeks passed before Mick pronounced Harry knowledgeable enough to at least start cleaning the useable pieces of motorbike. That day, after locking the door, Mick wheeled out what had once been a 1968 Triumph Bonneville.<\/p>\n
It looked like hell, but Harry was speechless. Half-listening to Mick\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s admonishments that nearly all the engine parts would need to be replaced and they would have to bang out a few of the larger wheel dents before Harry could even wheel it home, Harry approached what would eventually be his bike with awe. He ran his hands over every inch of the motorbike, taking in the rust and the dents, the rips in the seat, the remaining traces of a red paint job. Finally, he found his voice.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s going to be beautiful,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he told Mick in no uncertain terms.<\/p>\n
Mick shook his head, but went to find his really heavy hammer. <\/p>\n
*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
\tThe next Sunday found Harry considering the last rough spot on the engine cover of the Triumph. He had sanded off all the rust and scratches on it, and what remained of the paint as well, but there was one spot right on top where the scratches ran much deeper.<\/p>\n
Harry wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t able to tell whether the scratches were intentional markings or damage, but even he could see that they were too deep to sand off, it would make the cover too thin in that one spot. He ran his fingers over the scratches one last time as he made his decision. He would have to leave them there, but that was all right. If he painted the bike black like he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been considering, it would hide them from all but the closest inspection, they would be obvious only if touched.<\/p>\n
\tHarry decided to prime the cover pieces that afternoon so they would dry overnight. He cleared the parts that didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need primed off of the newspapers he had spread across the floor of the garage and set the engine cover pieces down so none of them were touching.<\/p>\n
Harry had never primed anything before, and he eyed the cover pieces dubiously while he shook the aerosol. After reading the directions on the can several times over, Harry shrugged and went at it, being careful to cover the outside of each piece evenly.<\/p>\n
By the time he was done, Harry\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s glasses were covered in a thin screen of tiny primer dots. He pulled the glasses off and squinted at them with a sigh. Scraping at the quick-drying primer had virtually no effect, and Harry realized he would likely have to use turpentine to take them off. Grunting, he rifled around in the box of random aerosols and cans and came up with a small can of paint thinner. Harry pried the lid off with a screwdriver and dipped the corner of his shirt in the thinner before trying to rub the primer off his glasses. After a few rubs he held the glasses up to the light, only to realize that the thinner was taking off the primer, but leaving a fine web of scratches across the glass.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s IT,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said out loud. He had had it with the glasses, had it with the way they were always dirty or fogged up, always slipping off his face, and anyway hated how people constantly told him how much he looked like his father in them.<\/p>\n
\tHarry stood up and slipped his glasses back on, wrinkling his nose at how they reeked of paint thinner and aerosol primer. He strode purposefully into the house and through to the kitchen, where his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sitting at the table.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you want?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Vernon demanded.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I want contacts,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry announced abruptly.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be ridiculous!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Vernon snorted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You have perfectly good glasses right on your face.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\tWithout another word, Harry took off his already ruined glasses and snapped them in two with a sudden wrench. He dropped the pieces on the table in front of his aunt and uncle.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t had my eyes rechecked for years,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry said in a calm and deliberate voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And you are taking me in to get contacts. How will it look if I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m stumbling about the neighborhood, half-blind?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He and Vernon stared each other down, Vernon going progressively red in the face, but in the end he was the one who dropped his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dudley\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s getting an eye exam tomorrow,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he grunted, going back to his paper. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You can tag along if I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hear another peep out of you until then.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have it any other way,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry allowed himself a small smirk as he went upstairs to take a shower, squinting the whole way.<\/p>\n
*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
As the middle of August arrived, work on the Triumph was surprisingly far along. The body of the motorbike, which hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t taken much expertise to repaint and finish, had been done for some time. Harry had been working later and later into the summer nights after work, painstakingly removing and either cleaning or replacing virtually every piece of the engine.<\/p>\n
\tWhen Mick announced that the last part Harry needed had arrived, Harry wheeled the Triumph back into the garage with him the next morning so that Mick could pass judgment on the roadworthy-ness of the motorbike. He watched with approval as Harry tightened the last bolts before crouching down to examine the engine itself.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I think I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done all I can,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry admitted into the silence, running a grimy hand through his hair and still enjoying the fact that his glasses were not about to slide off his sweaty nose. He had even stopped poking himself in the face every few seconds. Nearly.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153And you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve done a fair bit at that,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick told him, fingering some wire connections. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just a few things\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6here\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry heard Mick snap something into place, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6and here\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6ah!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry could barely contain his anxiety. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How much more work does she need?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not another bloody second,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick grinned like it was him who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d spent all summer building the bike. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Want to start her up?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153YES!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry exclaimed, hardly daring to believe it. Mick pulled the ignition key, which had also been in the pile of parts, out of his pocket and held it up.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re damn lucky we found this,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick reminded him as he tossed the key over.<\/p>\n
Harry straddled his Triumph, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He stuck the key in the ignition, but before he tried to start it, he stroked the engine cover once for luck, feeling the familiar ridges of the scratches he had painted over nearly a month ago.<\/p>\n
\tWhen Harry heard the engine turn over and roar loud enough to make him jump, he grinned so hard it hurt, stretching muscles that hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t been stretched in a long time. The engine settled after a minute, and Harry let it run for a few more before killing the power.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153She sounds good,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick told him.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153She sounds great,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry said in awe, rubbing his hands across the handlebars and grips.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153She might ride a little rough at first,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick warned. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Some of those parts came from other Triumph years and models, but after a little while all the sharp edges will wear down till it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s comfortable.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Will she hold up on the road?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry asked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is she really finished?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No way to tell but to ride her,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick answered. He raised an eyebrow. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153There is just one more part that missing.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry asked, perplexed. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d gone over the bike a thousand times, there was no part missing, even he was sure of that.<\/p>\n
\tMick slipped into the back and returned a moment later, holding something behind his back. Letting the suspense rise to a high pitch, he finally pulled out a black motorcycle helmet and handed it to Harry.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s for you,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Mick told him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have you do all that work and then get arrested riding the thing for a road safety violation, can I?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Harry looked back and forth from the helmet to Mick several times, nearly ready to burst into tears from emotional overload. He wanted to hug Mick and the helmet and Triumph and EVERYTHING all at once, wanted to break into a frantic rendition of Ron\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Quaffle Waffle right then and there.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mick,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he started breathlessly, but Mick cut him off with a wave.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Get out of here,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he shooed Harry out the open door of the garage. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ride your motorbike, and I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to see you back here until that engine purrs like a kitten.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
\tHarry walked the Triumph home, not trusting himself in his emotional state to be a very safe rider. Mick had taught him the basics of motorbike riding on other bikes they had fixed, but Harry wanted to be perfectly calm when he took the Triumph out for the first time. He wanted to remember every single moment.<\/p>\n
Harry parked the bike in the garage and went upstairs to take a long, hot shower. For the first time all summer, he thought deeply about what building the Triumph had meant to him. He allowed himself to think about Sirius, about how proud and excited Sirius would be if he were here now. Harry hoped that if Sirius could see him now, he was grinning the way Remus remembered from before Azkaban. Harry could nearly hear Sirius\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 roar of laughter, laughter so deep it sounded like it must hurt. <\/p>\n
\tHarry had heard that sort of laughter from Sirius few enough times to count it on one hand, but he figured if there was ever a time when Sirius ought to be laughing, it was now.<\/p>\n
Harry changed into a fresh T-shirt and pair of jeans and returned to the garage. He wheeled the Triumph out into the driveway and mounted it, mind meditatively blank as he fastened the strap of the helmet underneath his chin. <\/p>\n
\tStaring down the road in the fading daylight, Harry pondered where his first ride should be to for about half a second before he realized that there was only one place he wanted to go.<\/p>\n
He started the engine and let it run without going anywhere until it settled again. He saw his aunt Petunia fly out of the house and wave at him violently, but her shrieks were drowned out by the roar of the motorbike. Still ignoring his aunt, Harry flipped up the kickstand with his foot and revved the engine once.<\/p>\n
He sped out of the driveway without looking back, his only driving instructions being the direction an enchanted Ford Anglia had gone after breaking him out of his house four years ago.<\/p>\n
\tHarry hoped it was a long trip by road.<\/p>\n
\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*\t\t*<\/p>\n
It was mid-afternoon when Harry arrived in Ottery St. Catchpole. He drew to a halt in front of the Burrow, where Ginny was sprawled across the front steps in the lazy August heat, and killed the engine. He unstrapped his helmet and rolled it into the long grass beside her.<\/p>\n
\tGinny stood up, looking unsurprised to see Harry, much less Harry without his glasses, much less Harry on a 1968 Triumph Bonneville. Harry supposed they would talk about that later as Ginny threw a leg over the motorbike and settled against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you need the helmet?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Ginny asked.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not going far,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he shrugged before starting the Triumph again.<\/p>\n
\tBefore Harry pushed off, Ginny leaned forward to brush her mouth against his ear.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Happy Birthday, Harry.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Epilogue<\/B><\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is very impressive, Harry,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus said as he examined the Triumph a week later. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Although I feel I should be a bit concerned, given your family history with such machines.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Harry laughed out loud.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It looks just like Sirius\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 old bike,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus said wistfully. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153His was red of course, but still…\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The body of this one was red before we stripped it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry mentioned reluctantly, unsure why he had been hoarding that particular bit of information until now. <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153They did only make two colors,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus sounded amused. He brushed his fingers over the engine cover, then his brow furrowed as he rubbed the cover more deliberately.<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Harry, what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s this here?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153There was some scratches there too deep to strip off,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry explained, wondering what Remus\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 strange expression was all about. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why do you ask?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s silly,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus let his hand fall away from the Triumph. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sirius was a bit too smart to put his name on his clearly illegal motorbike, but he did have something engraved on it for identification. Right there.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\t\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What was it?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Harry asked, reaching over to finger the scratches himself. <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It was rather abstract,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Remus admitted in a soft voice, looking through Harry as though he wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seeing him at all, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153but it was supposed to be a stylized dog howling at the moon.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\tAfter Remus had left, Harry returned to the garage and sat on the Triumph for a long time, rubbing his fingertips across the scratches, tracing the lines.<\/p>\n
\tThe motorbike had been very damaged, he told himself. Really anything could have caused deep scratches in the cover. And even if they were originally an intentional shape, after everything this cover had been through, honestly it could feel like anything at this point. <\/p>\n
But Harry understood how one might think the top of the scratches was shaped very much like a crescent moon.<\/p>\n
Remixed by Musesfool here<\/a>. <\/p>\n
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