An Interference of Portraits

An Invitation to a Party

'We've decided,' Walburga announced, 'that you should have a party here, before the Ministry Gala Dinner on your birthday. You need to celebrate your birthday privately with your friends too.'

'That's a great idea,' said Draco from behind me.

I turned around and scowled at him but he just smiled sweetly.

'What if I don't want to have a birthday party?' I said, slightly petulantly.

'Why ever not?' said Phineas N. 'Isn't this an important birthday?'

'I thought seventeen was important for witches and wizards.'

'All birthdays are important for witches and wizards,' said Dorea.

'Especially the ones between seventeen and twenty-five,' said Eduardus.

'You're making that up,' I accused.

'No,' 'no,' 'no,' The Portraits chorused.

'It is important, darling,' said my mum. 'Especially your twenty-first.'

'You definitely have to listen to your mother,' said Draco, seriously. He was standing very close and it was slightly distracting.

'Yes,' The Portraits said in unison. 'Draco's right.'

'Naturally,' he said smugly. 'Well, I'm glad that's settled. We'll get planning.'

'I'll let Minerva know,' said Phineas N.

'And you must invite all the Weasleys,' said Dorea.

Walburga said, 'and—'

'Wait!' I said loudly. 'You're all ganging up on me and I feel bullied. I'm not having a party; the house is in not fit state to invite anyone in. And if I were to have one, I would write the invite list, thank you very much.'

'But we just agreed you're having a party,' pouted Sirius.

'And you'll just have to get the house finished, the important bits anyway. You've got a couple of weeks to finish downstairs. No one needs to see the bedrooms—' said Walburga.

'Don't...' I held my finger out threateningly, pointing at several of the predictable culprits in turn, 'say anything...'

It was remarkable how innocent my father, Sirius, and Remus could look. I wondered how often Minerva faced those expressions and just let them get away with murder because, really, it was hard to stay cross with them. Regulus was failing to hide his smirk.

'I can still help you write an invite list,' said Draco, looking at Phineas II quizzically.

I glared at him, that is, I glared at Phineas II because I was sure he'd been waggling his bloody eyebrows meaningfully at Draco. I didn't trust the lot of the buggers in the slightest. And I shook my head in resignation. I supposed the party would be going ahead. And it would be good to have a deadline to get the major decorating done by and I suspected that Ron and Hermione might want to stay so they didn't have to organise transport back to Devon so late at night. And I knew I'd probably invite Dromeda for the same reasons, plus it meant Nettie could babysit for Teddy while we were at the Gala Dinner. And that meant I needed to get at least three bedrooms completed in the next three weeks.

I sighed.

'Harry,' Luna called from the door into the Drawing Room. We went up to meet her. 'Harry, we think you should have creams and champagne-golds in here because of the floor and the beautiful ceiling. You could even get away with white gossamer curtains but I think heavier ones for winter would be better. I can just see it with a tall Christmas tree and white lights and decorations, and the fire roaring away merrily...'