Chapter 2 : A Very Weasley Birthday

True to Ron's word, the next morning Mrs. Weasley was the first to wake and cooking a fantastic breakfast. Harry opened the door in the hall that led to the basement and was greeted with the aroma of freshly baked bread, bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, strawberry and blueberry muffins, and what Harry thought to be maple syrup. He felt almost as if he were drifting down the stone steps guided only by his nose, rather than actually walking.

"Good morning, Harry!" She pulled him into another bone-crushing embrace and wished him a happy birthday with a kiss on the top of his messy bed-head. "Hungry I hope?"

Without waiting for an answer, she piled four eggs, a load of potatoes, and a pile of bacon on his plate along with two slices of toast and butter and a muffin. Not a free spot was to be found on his plate, heaping items piled on top of one another. He had thought Ron was exaggerating just a little when he wouldn't stop talking about the feast that awaited them in the morning.

Ron followed soon after, inhaling the great smell as Harry had done, "Ah, I love birthdays! Mum always does her best cooking on birthdays," he said as he took a chair across from Harry.

"And what exactly are you implying I do for the rest of the days between, Ronald Weasley?" She loaded Ron's plate with food the same as she had done for Harry. "I hope you're all right with a party, Harry. We don't have any presents for you and I wasn't sure how you were used to celebrating yours."

"Oh, don't worry about presents, Mrs. Weasley," Harry answered with a mouthful of eggs. "The most I ever got from the Dursley's was a used pair of Uncle Vernon's socks and that was the last time they even bothered to remember my birthday. I've never had a party before," he stuffed a load of potatoes into his mouth. "Dudley had the parties but I was allowed a piece of cake if I didn't spill the coffee. Once on Dudley's birthday I even got to go to the zoo with them, but that was only because they had nothing else to do with me--" He stopped rambling as he noticed the horrified gaze Mrs. Weasley was fixing upon him. She looked fit to burst into tears.

Instead she took a deep breath and stuck out her chin in defiance of the Dursley's offensive ways, "Well, you're going to have one today."

"Yeah, Weasley style," Ron added with a mischievous grin. "I love birthdays."

Moments later George and Fred came bounding into the room. "Who's birthday is it?" asked Fred, eagerly rubbing his hands together and George came around to his mother and stole a piece of bacon from the pan. Mrs. Weasley slapped his hand away, but he also managed to nick a chunk of uncooked potato behind her back and toss Fred a tomato.

"Harry's," Ron answered around the fried egg he had shoved in.

"Wicked!" said George. "Now we get to have nine parties a year instead of just eight!"

Harry was beginning to get the idea this would be nothing he was used to at the Dursley's. There was no Dudley to crash the table if he didn't get enough presents, no beatings if the toast was burnt or if the coffee wasn't brought right away. They all seemed terribly excited about the coming party, moreso than a simple birthday song and cake should create.

"Aren't you two supposed to be at the shop?" said Ron through another mouthful of food, having not taken a moment to breathe after the last bite.

"We're not due out there for another half-hour," George successfully claimed his own slice of bacon from the pan, "and we're hungry."

"We're only here for a short visit and then we're off," said Fred. "We have things waiting for us back at the shop that we need to get back to anyway."

Ginny and Hermione soon followed the twins' descent on the stairs, relishing the mixture of heavenly scents. They were still half asleep and still in their night dresses and dressing gowns, hair sticking up in every way possible and Harry couldn't help laughing to himself.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Hermione called out from the other side of the room and came to sit beside Harry and gave him a tight hug.

Ginny was about to do the same but instead, yelped out a cry of surprise when Fred grabbed her hands and pulled him to her for a dance. "Ready for a birthday party, Ginny?" he asked while engaging her in a complicated, fast paced sort of jig to nonexistent music.

"Always ready, Fred Weasley," she answered laughing and twirling, stomping her slippered foot and clapping in time with Fred to some song that only they could hear, never missing a beat with him. "Will we be seeing you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he answered breathlessly and sent her on another set of dizzying spins, "be right out after we close up."

Having never seen this sort of dancing, Harry watched, fascinated by the sight. The only dancing he'd ever experienced was at the Yule Ball, which was nothing like this. The Dursley's never approved of dancing and Harry was exposed to it as little as possible.

"That's enough, you two!" Mrs. Weasley called over the noise, banging her wooden spoon hard on the cauldron hanging in the fireplace. "Save it for tonight. Your father's going to stop off at the Burrow before coming here so he can pick up all your things, so if you two," she pointed at Fred and George, "see Bill at Diagon Alley you tell him to come right out."

"Right Mum," George obliged. "C'mon, Fred, we should get there early." Fred agreed and they vanished with a loud crack.

Ginny sat at her patiently waiting pile of food beside Ron, but realized that two pairs of eyes were watching her. "What is it?" she said self-consciously and turned a bright shade of pink.

Hermione spoke up, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Learn what?"

"I've seen dances like that at festivals and on the telly, but that was amazing. I didn't know you could really dance like that," Hermione said still staring at Ginny open mouthed.

"What do you mean, Hermione? Like what?"

"Ginny and Fred are the best dancers in the family," Ron proudly admitted.

"No, I'm not," she replied trying to be modest. Hermione had turned her attention away, but Ginny still felt another pair of eyes burning into her and turned to Harry, "What?"

Harry realized he'd been staring and turned his gaze away, embarrassed at his rudeness, though he continued to watch the image of her dancing run through his head.

"She lies. She really is the best of all of us," Ron added to his previous statement.

"Watch it or I'll have to embarrass you tonight," Ginny poked her brother playfully with an index finger.

"You won't have to; I seem to manage that part all on my own, but thanks for the offer to lend me reasons to blame it all on you. Besides, you'll be able to embarrass Harry then."

"Me?" Harry was ripped from his daydream, "Why me?"

"You're going to have to dance to iInisheer/i with Ginny tonight."

"Oh, no, I forgot about that," Ginny mumbled, looking down at her plate.

Harry panicked, "What?! I can't dance! Ron, you saw me at the Yule Ball—"

Hermione cut him off, "I saw you and thought you did just fine."

"But I can't do ithat/i!" he pointed to the general area in which Ginny and Fred had been jigging.

"She wouldn't make you do that kind of thing straight off, mate. She's not that cruel."

"You won't have to dance with me, Harry," Ginny assured him.

"Yes he does, Ginny, it's tradition. The youngest daughter always dances the first song with the guest of honor. And the first song is always iInisheer/i."

"It is inot/i tradition! You guys made that up and I just started going along with it!"

"You've been doing it eight birthdays a year for the past eleven years straight. It is too!" Ron wasn't backing down just because she didn't want to dance with Harry.

"I was four years old! Everybody thought it was cute!"

"She's right, it was a lot cuter when she was a little girl," Ron teased. "I don't know what we'll do with her now that she's all grown up."

"We're going to stop this silly itradition/i, that's what we'll do."

"No we're not," he shook his head defiantly.

Mrs. Weasley stuck her head into the conversation. "May I offer a compromise? Harry dance with Ginny and Ron can dance with Hermione so that Harry doesn't feel like everyone's looking at him and it can be Ron and Hermione's first dance as a couple. iInisheer/i is just a waltz, Harry, and quite short. Nothing complicated. Now eat up you lot, you know you won't be eating again till the party."

When nobody bothered to protest (Ginny sighed in defeat and Harry was too wide-eyed to form proper speech patterns), she bustled back to the fireplace oven, leaving the four of them to wallow in their defeated arguments and bountiful breakfast.