Harry awoke with a start. The morning sunlight was shining just above his eyes through a gap in his curtains. He rolled over lazily, but the light also hit against the bright back wall of his bedroom. He grunted, sat up, and rolled back his duvet cover which was covered in golden snitches. He rubbed his eyes and patted his bedside table for his glasses. He felt through some biscuit crumbs and paper and pencils and knocked over an empty teacup before finding them. Harry looked around at his room, and saw a box on his chest of drawers. It was elegantly wrapped in thick maroon paper and a large gold bow. Harry leapt out of bed, remembering for the first time- today was his eleventh birthday. He picked up the box and gave it an eager shake. Its contents didn't clatter or rustle. He looked at the label on the bow: "Happy birthday, H! Wear this down to breakfast? I bet you won't frighten ME!"
Harry tore open the box excitedly. The wrappings fell away and Harry was left holding a magnificent, wispy, almost translucent cloak. It was light and soft, like water woven into fabric. He threw it around his shoulders and leapt in front of his mirror. Everything from his bare feet upwards to the collar of his striped flannel pyjamas had vanished! He was floating about as if all that existed of his was the neck upwards. Harry grinned at his reflection and put his head under the cloak too, and gave a twirl to ensure he was completely covered. Then, padding towards his bedroom door, Harry slipped out onto the landing at the top of the stairs.
As he took a first tentative step (it was rather tricky with invisible feet) he heard voices in the kitchen below.
"Just leave it against the milk jug! He'll see it eventually! I'll tell him to make some tea and he'll spot it."
"He won't notice if I open it, I'll reseal it myself!"
"No. It's not yours to open!"
"Pleeeeeee-"
"Be quiet and eat your bacon."
Harry reached the bottom step. He crept softly towards the open kitchen door, invited in by the smell of bacon and pancakes. He slipped past the high chair at the breakfast table, careful not to knock the chair beside it, either. Approaching the man sitting there, coffee mug halfway to his mouth, with his other hand holding the Daily Prophet, Harry leaned right in behind the man's head of untidy black hair and whispered into his ear, "Boo!"
Several things happened at once. The man yelped in fright, and sent his coffee mug flying into the air before it landed with a loud smash on the kitchen floor, but not without covering his lap in hot liquid. The cry had also startled the baby in the high chair who gave a delighted gurgle, slapping her plastic plate so yoghurt splattered across her face and the wider vicinity. The family cat, perched on the windowsill, leapt off with a hiss towards the commotion. The newspaper, also unceremoniously flung into the air, fluttered in loose pages to the floor around the scene.
Completely unperturbed by the excitement as if she had been expecting it all along, Lily Potter gave her husband an appraising look, her eyes moving from the yoghurt on his glasses to the spilt coffee down his trousers. "I won't say I told you so," she shrugged, grinning.
Harry pulled off the cloak and roared with laughter. James turned and caught him around the middle before Harry could dart out of the way. At the sudden appearance of Harry, the baby squealed louder still and clapped her hands together. James and Harry wrestled around the kitchen, Harry being tickled to within an inch of his life, while Lily emptied a full breakfast onto his plate at the table and sat down beside the baby, laughing at them.
Harry eventually escaped and took a seat. Winded and wheezing, he picked up his fork and began shovelling mouthfuls of bacon, sausages, fried egg, pancakes and toast. Wiping his yoghurt-stained glasses on the corner of his now stained jumper, James caught his breath and smiled imploringly into the baby's face across the table. "Did Harry try to frighten Daddy? Silly Harry! Silly Harry!" James shook his head, messing up his hair even more.
"Fwy fwoo?" Harry said incredulously, through a gulp of baked beans.
"Don't sass with your mouth full, Harry James Potter," Lily said wryly, holding out the teapot. "Tea?"
"Yes, please" said Harry after an enormous swallow. James sat up again at this, and his eyes darted to the milk jug, where a letter addressed in green ink sat propped up against it. Lily poured the tea and passed Harry the sugar bowl, and he added two spoonfuls. He stirred in the sugar absent-mindedly as he gathered another forkful of food. All the excitement and running around had made Harry extra hungry. He looked up after a few more bites and saw his mother watching him intently. Her hand was holding a spoonful of beans vaguely in front of the baby, who was trying to catch it with her mouth. He looked at his father, who was purple. "What?" said Harry, alarmed. James looked like he was about to burst. "MILK! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN. ADD SOME MILK TO YOUR TEAAAAAA!" James was gesticulating wildly, at risk of falling off his chair. His father was insane, thought Harry. Lily was rolling her eyes and laughing and the baby was looking hostile at the noise and inability to reach her beans. Harry reached for the milk jug and remembered what he had overheard on his way downstairs.
There it was. Harry nearly choked. He leapt up onto his feet as he grabbed the letter. He began pacing the room. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeee-" Harry couldn't tell whether it was his noise or his father's. Harry tore open the letter, sealed with dark red wax and an emblem he knew; an emblem on a poster that hung on the back of his bedroom door…
"Dear Mr Potter," Harry read aloud, breathlessly, "We are pleased to inform you, that you have a place at Hog-"
"YES!" James cried and leapt to his feet, the breath he seemed to have been holding in for ages expounding from him in hysterical laughter. Lily punched the air and took the hand James offered to pull her out of her seat, and the two of them flung their arms around each other and jumped up down. "Harry's going to Hogwarts! Harry's going to Hogwarts!" They bounced their way round the kitchen table towards him and pulled him into their tangle of arms and legs, and he was squashed between them, his glasses askew, his face pressed against a missed spot of yoghurt on his father's chest. They bounced round and round in circles cheering and laughing and singing until Harry felt winded and slightly dizzy.
They broke apart and Lily put Harry's cheeks between her hands and kissed him on the forehead, leaving a single, faint pink mark on his pale forehead. James still had one arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders, shaking him as he continued to whoop and laugh.
Harry looked down again at the letter in his hands. It had got a little bit crumpled in the melee. His baby sister was fussing, her arms outstretched towards him, as if looking to get in on the fun. He sat down again, reached across the table and pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, and gave her the empty Hogwarts envelope to play with. She put a corner of it in her mouth and sucked on it, gurgling happily again, leaning against Harry's shoulder.
Harry pulled the milk jug towards him and poured it into his tea. He took a sip from his Pride of Portree Quidditch mug, which had a broomstick for a handle, and looked up at his parents, who were still standing and squealing, hugging each other in delight and beaming down at him. As his sister spat a corner of chewed parchment onto his half-finished plate, Harry thought would to himself, "this is the best birthday ever."