Harry looked up from his book to his clock. The red numbers illuminated twelve twenty-three in the morning, July thirty-first. He sighed and shut the book with a thump. It wasn't like he was reading it anyway; it was too dark in his small room, the only light being the red light. He could just barely make out title on the cover. The Standard Book of Spells: Edition Three. The book was as thick as both of his fists, and as heavy as bricks.
Harry disregarded the book after fingering the rough cover and picked up his wand.
"Lumos," He whispered, letting the tip of the wand illuminate a bright light. He had to blink and look away, his eyes not yet accustomed to the brightness of his room. His eyes moved to his suitcase, still half empty. His walls, covered with moving photos of him and his friends.
He moved back to his wand. Leaning the wand against his lips, he blew on it. His candle was still lit. He hadn't expected it to blow out. He never had candles on his birthday.
With annoyance, and a hint of sadness, he whispered, "Nox," and with a flicker, the wand's light blinked out, and Harry's room was once again in darkness.
He leaned against his wall (the Dursleys never blessed him with a backboard) and let his thoughts wander. To Hogwarts. To Ron, Hermione, Ginny…. To Hedwig, who Harry let out a couple days ago and still hasn't come back. To the presents he still hadn't got….
A large snore broke Harry away from his thoughts. It rumbled the house, and Harry's wand fell to the floor, and then the book on top of it.
"Bloody -" He screamed, but stopped himself. If the Dursleys woke up, he'd have to deal with that mess. He picked up his book and his wand, and upon feeling it, it was, thankfully, unbroken. But, still filled with irritation, Harry slid down his wall and rested his head on his pillow. In an instant, his tiredness took over and he closed his eyes.
Harry awoke to a tapping on the glass. Hedwig. He rubbed his sore eyes (he forgot to take his glasses off before he fell asleep) and looked over to his clock. Three forty-one. He took just a moment longer before pulling the thin sheets off his body and grabbing his wand. Again, "Lumos" came out of his mouth and the room lit up. Harry rushed to the window, hoping Hedwig wouldn't be angry at him for leaving her out there. Upon opening it, though, Hedwig rushed towards him, obviously weighed down by many heavy parcels. She pecked his fingers as he untied the string from her sore limbs. Her feathers were rough and wet. Harry smoothed them down as he counted his gifts. Six in total, spread about his bed, all seemingly from his friends. He smiled tiredly at his blessings and Hedwig sat on Harry's shoulder, proud of her work. It seemed as though all was right in the world for Harry. His grin brightened the room more than the wand he was holding. His heart felt bigger, he felt bigger. Even Hedwig seemed content. Maybe this would be a good birthday after all