AN: Thirty two birthdays; happy birthday Harry Potter (even if I am late). So here are glimpses until then.
Born
"Here you go Mrs. Potter, a healthy baby boy." Lily smiled gratefully at the witch as she was handled a swaddled bundle.
Her baby boy.
Lily followed the plane of his brows, the slope of his nose and the seam of his lips with her finger. She couldn't believe that just hours ago she was pregnant, and here she is now, marveling.
She couldn't stop.
As James hurried in to the room, a strange combination of worry and glee written into the lines of his face, she whispered, "Welcome to the world Harry."
First Birthday
Harry's first birthday was the happiest he'll have for years. Not that he would know.
There had been crying and vomiting, Harry had been sick and fussy for days now as teeth started to push out his gums.
Lily worried too much about the tiny cupcake for Harry, about James horsing around with Sirius around the house, and the guests that would be arriving to celebrate Harry's first birthday.
But when it came down to it, the cupcake was perfect, James behaved and no one could stop smiling.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Harry, happy birthday to you!"
Harry let out a happy baby belch.
Second Birthday
Petunia frowned at the date on the calendar when she finished her morning routine. She walked down the stairs and couldn't stop thinking.
July thirty first.
The date gave her a bad taste in her mouth.
She passed the cupboard's door without sparing it a glance.
Well, maybe a little glance, but she would not tolerate any more sympathy towards that freakish child, not from her or anyone else!
Sixth Birthday
"Hello Mr. Spider, have you come to visit me on my birthday?" Solemn green eyes set in a too thin face watched as a spider descended from its web. "I'm turning six today."
The spider gave no response.
Harry pushed an ant at it.
Eleventh Birthday
He felt like a balloon, He was rising up from the dirty shack floor and rising through the air and towards the ceiling and he was floating away.
Harry glanced down at his body, half expecting to be able to see right through himself. But he was still made of flesh and bones.
No matter.
You're a wizard Harry.
Fourteenth Birthday
He felt giddy.
This was his first birthday with family.
With Sirius.
And even though he was on the run from the authorities, Harry couldn't help but be happy.
He had family.
He sat there on his bed eagerly awaiting a reply from Sirius.
Sixteenth Birthday
Harry didn't feel like celebrating.
He had been duped. By Voldemort. He had led his friends into danger, and they nearly died.
Sirius died.
He died, before they could be a proper family, before he was really happy. All Harry can remember of Sirius is the caged look in his eye as he stared morosely at the walls of his family's ancestral home.
Of Sirius calling him James.
Seventeenth Birthday
He swallows past the lump in his throat. His spit goes on to takes pieces of his throat, shredded and torn pieces. Blood and stuff. It sets off to become an explosion in his stomach.
The explosion in his stomach had nothing to do with the scene. Bodies littered the floor. Harry may or may have not been stepping on someone's guts.
It was a glorious red, the flames licked at sky as the sun set and it was just red, red, red.
The blood sliding down, and leaving trails behind, the bodies leaving a smear behind and dark stains added to it.
Harry was standing outside the Burrow.
Twentieth Birthday
It's over.
He can't believe it.
Harry's standing alone, and everything around him is silent and Voldemort's cooling corpse is half slumped against him, face still frozen in snarling rage. His wand pressed up against a stomach.
He can't believe it.
He sank to the ground, clutching the dead body still.
"Well, fuck. Happy birthday to me."
Twenty First Birthday
He's probably drunk.
And to be honest, he hasn't really been sober these past couple days, despite Luna's disapproving gaze. She's sobered up, since the war. Since her kidnapping, since soooooo many bad memoriesmakeitstop-
And he really shouldn't be doing this, he's clutching the sides of Neville's face, smashing lips and teeth and tongue to Neville's and he really doesn't care. Its midnight and Harry guesses technically it's both their birthdays.
Twenty Fourth Birthday
Things are a little better. Green eyes watch Teddy, and he can't help the sliver of paranoia that found its way into him.
Relax he told himself. Neville, Luna and Hermione are with him. Outside. They can watch him while they set up.
He watches Teddy get underfoot, clumsy and laughing and smiling, and how glorious it is to be seven.
He makes sure to keep an extra eye just in case.
Things are a little better.
Twenty Eighth Birthday
He stays in bed a little longer than normal. Eyes squeezed shut and he tries to breathe.
"We're just going to the Leaky Cauldron today. We're going to have lunch and cake. Teddy is going to give me a hug, and so are other people. We're going to get Teddy's thing for Hogwarts and then we'll have ice cream."
He breathes and opens his eyes. "Man up Potter," he mutters to himself and heaves himself out of bed.
When he catches a glimpse of Teddy with dark and green eyes and a big smile, he tells himself to breathe.
Thirty First Birthday
He's been careful not to say anything and he feels a little guilty using his birthday to persuade Neville into doing this.
But he really wants this and he's willing to go to extreme measures for this.
Neville's been watching the whole time as the expressions on Harry's face changed from nervous to guilty to determined and sick and all over again.
"Harry what is it?"
"I want to have a baby." Damn it, he was supposed to ease Neville into it.
Thirty Second Birthday
"Happy birthday Harry." Neville gave him a kiss which may have escalated if it wasn't for Rosie's fussing.
"Why don't you take a nap Harry. I'll take Rosie for today."
Harry smiled gratefully, kissed him and went to their room to do just that.