A/N: I apparently started writing this a year ago in July right before I went on vacation, only to never return to it. Ironically, I just got back from the beach earlier this week and rediscovered this story by accident. Figure that posting this much writing might be good motivation to continue working on it.

Also, this fic (and subsequent title) was inspired by one of my favorite songs, Broken Social Scene's "7/4 Shoreline."

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters; I just like trying to see the world through their eyes.

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Shoreline

As usual, the idea came from the most brilliant witch I know. Right, understatement. The most brilliant witch anyone alive right now could possibly know. Amazing she is, as bloody biased as I am. She claims the idea came from me-fancy that, me getting credit for something that wasn't botched. Of course I turned bright red when she shot me that winning grin of hers; the one that says "you've got all my attention" when she insisted I should get the praise. Wish I saw that grin more often. Right, getting sidetracked. Earlier this summer, she paid a visit to the Burrow, as was becoming the custom. We were talking up in my room, me saying something silly to make her giggle despite her best efforts to keep serious. She's too serious most of the time and I wanted her to relax. It was summer, after all. And I had a feeling that things were gonna get worse as the likelihood of war looms closer. So as we chatted, her fidgeting with a notebook filled with Hermione-notes-of-wonder, I couldn't help but feel guilty about it all. Here I was, enjoying the company of one of my best friends when the other best friend was nowhere to be found. Knowing he was probably pulling his hair out miles away due to his "involuntary family unit" (Harry's words, not mine), I guess I said something to Hermione about how it'd be wicked if Harry could have a proper birthday celebration for once. Most of his birthdays consisted of extremes of near-fatal chaos and bouts of boredom and isolation, so he could probably use a normal get-together. And with that responsive smile and praise, Hermione agreed and swiftly began planning a birthday party for Harry.

But how to do it?

That afternoon and a few afternoons afterwards, we began plotting ideas for things to do.

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"What do you think Harry would like to do?" Hermione asked while brandishing a muggle writing utensil. She was seated near the foot of Ron's bed, her legs crossed underneath her and her notebook splayed on her lap.

Ron shrugged, leaning against a pile of pillows he had propped at the head of the bed. "Something low key. Nothing fancy."

Hermione nodded. "Good idea. He has enough excitement during most of the year. It'd be good for him to relax."

"And something fun. Nothing too dull, else he'll be dying to get into trouble."

"And bring us along in the process," Hermione finished.

Ron half-smiled. "Nothing we can't handle. And it'd be great if we could invite others along. Maybe a good-sized group. He's never had a family there for him."

Hermione jotted down notes while Ron talked. "That is an excellent point. Really is horrific how those Dursleys treat him. Barbaric." She frowned, drawing the tip of her pen into her mouth in nervous contemplation. "I do hope he's all right."

Ron removed himself from his comfortable position and touched her knee. "He's just fine. I'm sure. No need to worry."

Hermione sighed before nodding. "Should we have something here then?" Her eyes swept the bedroom, taking in the bright decorations, warm glow, and Ron scent she knew by heart. "Your family's like our family, after all."

Ron shrugged again. "Dunno. It might be nice to do something somewhere different. I love Mum, Dad, and everyone, 'course, but we're typically here at some point during summer and Christmas. Let's shoot for a new place."

"Right. Like a new yet tame adventure," Hermione rephrased, jotting down more notes. "And I doubt he's ever been on holiday."

"You know where I'd like to go myself?" Ron admitted. Hermione looked up from her paper with curious eyes. "The beach. Never been there before," he admitted.

She set her pen down, surprised. "You've never been to the beach?" He shook his head. "Ever?" she insisted. He shook his head again. "What're the odds that Harry's never been either?"

"I'd bet a million to one on never," said Ron.

"We'd be outside and getting fresh air, which would be great compared to being cooped up inside that dreadful Dursley place," Hermione began to rationalize.

"Loads to do: swimming, exploring, eating" added Ron.

"You would mention food," she teased. "But we could easily get a group of people to meet up with us." The pair looked at each other, thinking of other positive reasons in their respective minds.

Hermione's face brightened with a smile. "It's perfect, Ron. Brilliant, even!"

Ron blushed, of course. "Really? I mean, I'm sure I'll burn the minute I step in the sunlight. And Harry will probably hate it within five minutes..."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's great. Really great. And I think I know the perfect beach to go to! Of course it'll have to be somewhere muggle-free; else I can't imagine everyone being mindful to control their magic. Oh, and we'll have to think of transportation...I'm sure I can figure that out with ease. And who to invite is important as well..." Hermione's spoken thoughts raced to keep up with her mental ones as she started briskly writing her ideas on paper while making subconscious hand gestures. Ron leaned back on his pillows and watched her go, smiling at how adorable she got during event planning. She glanced up and caught his amused look, then broke into a soft giggle. "Sorry," she apologized.

"No worries. Let's say we keep this a surprise party too, right? Maybe we can just make it a day trip to the beach and pull out the stops that evening before leaving? Y'know how little Harry likes being put in the spotlight when it can be helped," Ron suggested, running a hair through his bangs.

Hermione nodded, adding that to her list. "Say Ron..." she began, catching Ron's attention as his eyelids began to flutter. The staple sound of her scribbling on paper was beginning to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

"Hmm?" he responded throatily.

"Would you like to help make out a list of people to invite?" she asked, offering him a piece of paper.

Pleasantly surprised, he took the paper. "Sure." He stared at the muggle device she had also offered. "But where's the ink bottle?"

She sighed, taking the pen back from him to click the head, extending the tip side from its hideaway. "Treat it like a quill, only the ink's already inside of it. So you don't have to dip it."

"Oh." Ron continued to stare at the pen with wonder, looking quite a lot like his father in a moment of fascination. Hermione thought to say something, but decided against it. His face was too adorable.

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So that's how the idea came to be. We drew up a list of blokes and girls from school that we knew Harry might like to see on his birthday. Mum was ecstatic when she heard our idea, though she was bummed that we weren't going to be at the Burrow for it. Mum's like that. She signed up to cook a big dinner and cake for us, which meant one less thing for me to ruin. I'm a dreadful cook, after all. And Hermione mumbled something about being only so good at it herself.

I hope Harry likes this...

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Please review! Thanks!