Okay, couple points I want to address before this chapter begins:

Havoc's still being on Roy's team despite his spinal injury and paralysis: Canonly, at the end of FMA:B and manga, Dr. Maroch offers to restore Roy's eyesight in exchange for his vowing to help rebuild Ishval. Roy accepts, but states that he wants 'his friend' (aka, Havoc) healed first.
The 'epilogue' episode shows Roy with his eyesight restored, and while I don't recall if Havoc was shown in any of the scenes, I do remember that Havoc is shown undergoing physical therapy in the manga chapter of 108. (Chapter 108, pg. 106, photo in top left corner, for those who need citations!) While I do not recall if canonly he returns to Mustang's team after this therapy, I choose to interpret his attempts at recovery to mean that he does, in fact, return to service under Mustang after he can walk on his own again.

Second point:

Mustang helping rebuild Ishval: I am aware that canonly, it's very likely that he (and Miles and Scar) began helping rebuild directly in Ishval itself, even if it's never outright stated.

However, for purposes of this fanfiction and its plot, I have chosen to have Mustang instead stay in Central, where he, Miles and Scar worked to ensure that Ishavalans had the freedom and protection via laws that they would need to be able to rebuild their homeland without fear of being attacked by the Amestrian army yet again, rather than go there directly. This does not mean, of course, that Roy never goes to Ishval, only that he visits and then returns to Central where he can have a direct hand in ensuring they are protected just like any other Amestrian citizen.

Third point:

I realize it's probably a bit OOC for Mustang to throw him a party, but I wanted him to finally get around to meeting the others, and this was the most plausible reason I could think of that didn't involve Hawkeye shooting him. xD;

I think that's everything?

Oh. And next chapter will be short, and you'll probably kill me for where I chose to end it.

I REGRET NOTHING.


Between learning on his own, exploring Central and being taught by Roy when the latter isn't working, Harry barely notices time passing.

And then he looks at the calendar and realizes that his birthday is the next day. Roy finds him there, staring at the calendar when he returns from work.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Just…my birthday's tomorrow. I didn't even realize that an entire month's passed since I got here to Central."

Roy pauses, and studies the calendar. "July 31st, then?"

"Yeah…" Harry looks wistful. "Used to be my friends would send me gifts and I'd get them at exactly midnight. It was a sort of ritual, really." He glances at Roy and smiles slightly. "But I won't be able to get gifts from them this year."

"Won't you?"

He shakes his head. "No. They're…too far away to send them anymore. Or I'm too far away. Something like that."

"I see…" He hums thoughtfully, before turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen to make something to eat. "Then tomorrow be up early. Around six o'clock."

"What? Why?"

"I'll bring you to the office. You can meet my team. They'll enjoy an excuse to slack off for a day, and a birthday party seems like a good one to use."

"What—no. You don't have to do that!"

"I want to. You don't get a choice in the matter, Mr. Potter."

Harry sputters a moment, because this is completely unexpected, and he hadn't mentioned his birthday for pity or to interrupt his schedule or—

"Friends throw parties for friends, Harry. Don't get so worked up."

"Are…are we friends, then?"

"I was assuming so. Unless you have objections?"

"No… I don't, no. It's…" He shuffles his feet a bit, then turns from the calendar with a grin. "It's nice, having friends here."

xoxox

Roy's already dressed and waiting for him when Harry stumbles to the front door in the morning, stuffing toast in his mouth and trying to swallow it without choking.

"I could have waited two minutes for you to eat properly—"

"No, it's fine. I'm ready."

"Come along then," Roy instructs, steering him to the car by the elbow. Harry just grins and allows himself to be led. It's far too early for any sane person to be awake, he thinks, but he's getting a birthday party, and it's his first ever. (He'd never had one, except with Hedwig—dead and gone as well, oh god the Killing Curse had hit her in her cage why didn't he let her fly ahead on her own, she'd been trapped with no way to dodge when it came— and the other owls bringing his gifts. He'd always left Privet Drive after his birthday, never before.) So he can tolerate being awake this early for that. He'll have to repay them for this somehow.

"I'll introduce you to everyone when we get to the office," Roy tells him, as the car starts. "Fuery made you a cake, I'm told. Though he didn't know your age, so he won't put the candles on until we actually get to it—"

"Eighteen. This is my eighteenth birthday."

"Ah. Well, happy eighteenth then, Harry."

"Thanks." He's almost bouncing in his seat, and grins at Roy when the older man shoots him a glance, mouth turned up in an amused smile.

"You're like a four year old."

"I know, but I can't help it. I've never had a birthday party before."

"…That's ridiculous. Seriously?"

"The relatives, remember?"

"Ah, right. You did mention how horrible they were. I'll assume birthdays were another of those things they ruined for you."

"Pretty much."

"Well, you'll enjoy the party I'm sure. Havoc's spent all last night decorating the office and ordering food."

"I can't wait to see it. But you're really sure this isn't going to get you guys in trouble? I'd hate to get you in trouble over me…"

"I'm sure, Harry. Relax. Even soldiers need a day off sometimes, and my men have been working hard lately. One day off won't cause too much work."

"Alright…"

"If you're done with your unnecessary worrying now, you can tell me about some of the exploring you've been doing. See anything interesting?"

Harry appreciates the change of topic, and launches into a rambling monologue of everything he's seen since he arrived, describing things even when he's well aware Roy knows what he's talking about. Rambling keeps him from being nervous, and the closer to the office they get the more nervous he is.

xoxox

"Harry, this is my team. Major Miles, Captain Falman, First Lieutenant Hawkeye, Second Lieutenants Breda and Havoc, and Sergeant Fuery. Everyone, this is Harry Potter. He's the one I mentioned," Roy states, pointing to each individual as he names them. "And the dog over in the corner taking a nap is Black Hayate. Technically he's Hawkeye's dog, but we consider him part of the team too."

"Hullo," Harry replies, smiling and giving a nervous half wave. "Nice to meet you guys." He's somewhat unprepared for Havoc's rather boisterous greeting and attempts to shove party foods into his hands, but he appreciates the blond man's enthusiasm. (He's not used to people being happy about his birthday. Gifts from his friends were great and all, but it's not the same as seeing them happy about it in person.)

Hawkeye gives him a small smile when he catches her eye as he's dragged by a grinning Havoc over to the table of gifts (they got him presents? They'd never met him until now and only heard about the birthday yesterday and they still took the time to buy something for him, even if they had no idea what he was like?), and he smiles back at her.

"You didn't have to get me anything—"

"It's your birthday! Of course we had to get you stuff! It's not a party without stuff to tear wrapping paper off of!"

"But you don't even—"

"No protests! Open them!" Havoc demands, eager and bouncing. (Harry's reminded of Pig, Ron's owl. Always weaving and bouncing about. He can't help but grin at the man and soak up the cheerfulness.) Harry rolls his eyes and reaches for the first of the gifts.

It's true that this is their first meeting and they'd only had a night to get gifts, but Roy must have mentioned his learning alchemy to them because the first gift he opens is a box of chalk –"For drawing transmutation circles," Havoc explains happily—and he thanks Breda for it. The chalk is quickly followed by a chess set—"That one's from Roy, he likes chess and he probably plans to train you into someone he can play with since he kicks our asses at it all the time!" "I do not plan to 'train him to be someone I can play with', Havoc. I just thought he might like to play sometime, since it's not like you're any challenge."—, a couple more alchemy books—"Roy said you didn't have these ones, so Falman thought you might be able to use them."—, a bunch of novels from Miles, Riza and Fuery—"Roy said you like to read when you're not studying or exploring Central."—, and a map of Central—"Since you like to explore Central, this'll help if you get lost!"—from Havoc.

Harry thanks them after each gift is unwrapped, and they all scatter to chat and eat the food laid out across a table that Havoc's apparently stolen from a conference room. ("No one was using the room!" "Regardless, you're putting it back, Havoc. After the party." "Fine, fine.") He migrates over to Roy's desk, flipping through one of the alchemy books with interest before he closes and sets it aside to smile at the man when he comes over with two glasses of punch.

"Enjoying it?"

"Yes. Thanks so much." He takes the glass offered and sips slowly, savoring the flavor.

"You don't have to thank me. It's really not a problem."

"Still though. You didn't have to go through all the trouble, so I can thank you for it if I like."

"If I accept your thanks, will you stop thanking me?"

Harry laughs, and Roy's lips quirk upwards before settling into a full grin of his own. "I might. You never know," Harry says finally.

"If you thank me one more time, I'm not letting you have any cake."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment, you know."

"I'd say it was appropriate, really," Roy counters.

"You must be a cruel and unforgiving officer if you punish people for being polite."

"Oh yes. I'm such a hooligan. Polite people make me irrationally angry and I end up assigning them the worst duties I can think of. Fear my unmannerly wrath."

Harry snorts and nearly chokes on his punch.

xoxox

The party doesn't last all that long—only until about half an hour before Roy and his men usually leave the office on a normal day—but Harry's still exhausted by the end of it. Between making the circuit of the room to talk to everyone, playing with Black Hayate and Havoc's seemingly natural abundance of cheerful energy he's tired himself out.

Roy allows him to lean on him, to keep from falling flat on his face. (He's staggering like a drunken Mundungus, and fairly sure that he would fall flat on his face without Roy's help, even if it's just tiredness.) He's relieved when they make it to the car, if only because it means he can catch a cat nap while Roy drives. Roy chuckles, amused.

"You look like a drunk, you know."

"Shut up Roy, I'm just tired. You know that."

"Well, yes. But it's still mildly hilarious."

"Hahahaha. It's so hilarious you can make your own breakfast tomorrow, then."

"I'm only teasing. Please don't make me cook my own breakfast, I can't make bacon crispy like you do."

"I'm offended you only like me for my bacon."

"I'm offended you don't make it more often."

"Just for that we're having porridge tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, please don't take away my bacon!"

"Shut up and let me nap."

"Yes sir," Roy answers promptly, grinning. Harry huffs and rolls his eyes before letting himself drift off into sleep.

He's awoken by Roy's hand on his shoulder shaking him, and he cracks an eye blearily. "Hmm?"

"Home, Harry. C'mon."

"Oh. Right." He drags himself out of the car, and stumbles for the door. Roy keeps a hand on his arm, only letting go once Harry's finally reaches his room. "I'm gon' sleep now, Roy. Pro'ly won't wake up to make dinner," he slurs sleepily. "So make somethin' yourself, 'kay?"

"Yes, that's fine. We have leftovers anyway. Goodnight Harry."

"G'night Roy." He shuts the door and heads to bed, shedding his shirt and socks as he moves. He's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.