happy freakin' birthday, harry james potter. to you, because you've been with us every step of the way, as we have with you.
twenty years ago today, an eleven year old boy slept on the floor of a lighthouse. "yer a wizard, harry."
written for spuffypotter1997's Harry Potter's Birthday Challenge, also just because he deserves it. also, happy birthday j.k. rowling, i don't own your characters. :)
happy birthday, mister potter.
harry/ginny
"do you still feel younger than you thought you would by now, or darling, have you started feeling older yet?"
Harry never did really like birthdays. He had never truly celebrated one without having it interrupted by dark magic, and those were his better birthdays. For most of his life, not many had even remembered his birthday. Today was one of those days, but he was the only person without a clue. He lay in bed, still nestled beneath many of the blankets Ginny had purchased for their new flat. The scent of clean sheets and summer wind floating through the open window only pushed Harry into a deeper sleep. Birds chirped happily, the sun shone down through the windows in graceful chutes, and his fiancée tiptoed across the bedroom, scampering past the creakier boards of the floor.
Ginny knew how much Harry disregarded birthdays, but she thought maybe with a bit of a push, he'd come to like them. He deserved a celebration, after all. Besides, Molly would never let him go without a party.
She climbed onto the bed, her red hair wonderfully dishevelled, and pulled the blankets away from Harry's face. He groaned something incomprehensible, then mumbled the redhead's name sleepily, rolling onto his back. She smiled, looking down at his sleeping face. A thin finger graced the interesting scar on his forehead, before she lowered her lips to his. She kissed him hungrily, and groggily, he returned the favour.
"Morning, sleepyhead." she murmured after pulling away momentarily, her hand cupping his cheek.
"Morning, love." he said between a yawn. He blinked tiredly, grass-green eyes coming into focus. He laughed blearily, before wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her closer to his body. The scent of cinnamon candles wafted in through the doorway, filling his lungs.
"Happy birthday, Mr. Potter." She smiled at him, before they joined in on another kiss. His hands ran down her back precariously, his sleepiness no longer evident. A hand just barely reached her behind, and she smiled through the heat of the kiss. Her finger grazed down his firm chest, stopping right above the hem of his pants, and he gave an involuntary shiver of pleasure. She ran her tongue across his lips before pulling away, much to his displeasure.
"I think that was the best 'good morning' I've ever received," he said, laughter leaking into his words. He sat up, and Ginny rustled his hair.
"Well, you are the birthday boy," she replied, giving him a sly smile, "C'mon into the kitchen. I've got breakfast ready, and you've got presents."
"Are they like the one I just got?" he asked, grinning. She got off the bed, her hand on her hip.
"Maybe, and if you're lucky, you'll get an extra special present later tonight." she said, winking at him.
"Bloody hell," he said, his breath almost catching in his throat. He hopped off the bed elatedly, tailing her into the kitchen.
Harry never really did like birthdays, but he definitely could get used to them. He'd love a birthday like this for the next fifty years.
