Coming of age by Eggbert

Summary - It's Harry's 21st birthday. Why is he so unhappy?

Rating - PG13

Disclaimer - Not mine and never will be. They're JKR's

Dedication - To Gabriela, just because. And to Kiree Tenshi. Thanks for all your kind words.

Notes - This isn't the only birthday fic doing the rounds but it's written especially for these two. And the idea isn't unique (I know!) but it is for me. So enjoy.


Harry Potter awoke with the sun streaming into his bedroom and his lover showering his face with kisses.

" Wake up sleepyhead. " said Ron. Harry gave him a warm grin.

" Morning. " he said, trying to stifle a yawn. He turned in Ron's arms and gave him a long, deep kiss to which Ron responded with alacrity. But when Harry tried to advance the promising situation, Ron playfully pinned his arms to the bed.

" Uh huh. " he cautioned. " No time for that. You're going to be late for work. "

Harry groaned and tried to hide his head under the pillow. It was one of the most important matches of the season. He had begged for the day off but his editor had been adamant. Puddlemere United versus the Appleby Arrows. He needed his best Quidditch reporter and that reporter happened to be Harry Potter.

At least Ron was being more than friendly. He had been a bit preoccupied of late but refused to say what was troubling him. Harry let him be. Some things you had to sort out for yourself.

Still, it wasn't every day you were twenty-one mused Harry as he stood under the shower letting the hot water gush over him.

When he emerged the teapot was steaming on the kitchen table and Ron was nowhere in sight. Their tiny flat, just off Knockturn Alley was also devoid of birthday cheer. He looked at the empty perch. Even Hedwig and Pig had deserted him.

He hadn't been expecting much, but a card would have been nice. Ron had been his lover since they were sixteen but surely he wasn't so wrapped up in whatever was bothering him that he'd forgotten?

Ron might have made a bit of an effort thought Harry sourly, his high spirits effectively doused.

He pulled on his cloak and called out a farewell to Ron who muttered something inaudible from the bathroom as he prepared for work at the Ministry.

Harry's mood didn't improve during the match and by the time Puddlemere United had massacred the Arrows he was feeling thoroughly fed up. He went down to the locker room to interview the winning team but he couldn't summon up his usual enthusiasm, something Oliver Wood was quick to notice. When Harry had concluded his interview with Michael Fitzgerald, Oliver put out a hand and held him back.

" What's the matter, Harry? You look like you lost a Galleon and found a Knut. " Harry sighed.

" It's nothing. " he said.

" Doesn't look like nothing. " said Oliver reasonably.

" Oh okay. Today's my birthday. My twenty-first. "

" Congratulations. " smiled Oliver.

" No one remembered. " said Harry bitterly.

" You're kidding! " exclaimed Oliver. " What about Ron? "

" Not even him. He's got a lot on his mind at the moment. "

" That's terrible! " said Oliver disgustedly. " Tell you what, we're all going out to get pissed, seeing as how we won. Come with us? "

Harry smiled, genuinely touched by Oliver's offer.

" Tempting, but no thanks Oliver. I'd be lousy company anyway. I'll just go home. "

" Are you sure? " asked Oliver, concerned at the hurt and upset in the younger man's eyes.

" Positive. " replied Harry firmly.

" Oh well. Happy birthday anyway. "

Harry gave him a weak grin and left. He filed his copy but when he got home he found it deserted, the fire unlit and a severe absence of Ron.

He was starting to get angry. Harry wouldn't speak to him anyway, but he couldn't even ignore Ron when he wasn't there to be ignored.
He laid down his spare parchment and shrugged off his cloak. He went to slump in his armchair but to his extreme annoyance there was a very tatty pair of Ron's slippers already on it. He grabbed them and, a second too late, felt the familiar tug behind his navel of a Portkey.

He landed heavily on the kitchen floor of the Burrow.

" SURPRISE! " came a loud chorus.

He looked up and felt his heart slam against his ribs as he realised what was going on. Ron pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly.

" Happy birthday, Harry. " he said kissing him warmly.

Harry pulled away from him, completely dazed. Every one of the Weasleys and their assorted partners were there; he spotted Hermione and Viktor, Hagrid and he could have sworn that was Neville before Mrs Weasley enveloped him in a warm embrace.

" Happy birthday, dear. " she said as she released him.

" I'm stunned. " was all Harry could think of to say.

" Ron's been planning it for months. " said Mrs Weasley fondly. " Making sure we would all be here. Poor Pig was exhausted at the finish. He wanted to make tonight very special for you. " And she smiled tenderly as tears filled the startling emerald eyes of the man her youngest son loved so much.

" I thought he'd...everyone had..." stuttered Harry, fighting an absurd urge to cry. Mrs Weasley laughed.

" Not a chance. As a surprise party, I think it worked, don't you? Now, how about opening your birthday presents? "

It was one of the best nights of Harry's life. When he thought back, he couldn't decide what was the best bit. Him grabbing Ron and whispering

" You're going to suffer for this, Weasley. " and Ron's scandalous response, or Sirius turning up late and embracing him, all teary eyed because his little godson had grown up, or the birthday cake baked in the shape of the Firebolt MkII with the twenty one candles, or seeing Hermione for the first time in ages only to be told that she and Viktor were going to have a baby, or Hagrid's gift of a baby Puffskein which hummed contentedly on the kitchen table amid the detritus of cards and wrapping paper, or was it just being with his adopted family and realising the sheer effort and love Ron had put into this just for him?

Ron had self- consciously handed Harry a small square package just after he had blown out his candles.

" I got this for you, love. " Ron had said, his ears going pink. " I hope you like it. "

Harry had opened it eagerly and looked. And looked. Inside was a sliver pocket watch. How many times had he complained about not having enough time to find a decent one that he could rely on? He carefully took it out of its box. Engraved on the back in copperplate script was HARRY JAMES POTTER. The lid sprang open and he read the engraving on the inner case and felt the tears fill his eyes again.


~ All time is precious
Our time together
Is the most precious of all.

With all my love. Ron. 31st July 2001.

With an unsteady hand he replaced it in the box and embraced Ron fiercely.

" It's beautiful. " he whispered in his lover's ear. " Thank you so much for, well, everything. " Heedless of the indulgent gazes of the others he kissed Ron deeply, passionately, letting his lips warm against Ron's and berating himself for ever doubting him.

Or was it when, much later after the party, the speeches, the farewells and the return home, he and Ron lay naked in each other's arms after making the sweetest love imaginable?

Harry really couldn't decide. But what he did know for sure was that this had to be his best birthday ever.