Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, brilliantly created by J.K.
Rowling. Most situations are based on those created by J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Three: Turning Thirty
March 1st
Emma Weasley skipped down the hallway of her house on the morning of March 1st, singing, "It's my birthday! It's my birthday! I'm six years old today!"
"Emma!" her mother called to her. "Your dad's still sleeping! I think we can let him sleep, seeing as it's his birthday today too."
Emma stopped skipping and poked her head in the bedroom door. "Sorry, mummy! I forgot."
"It's okay," said Hermione. "Wait for me, we'll go downstairs and get some breakfast."
"Okay," said Emma, and she hopped from one foot to the other waiting for her mother to emerge from the bedroom.
"Let's get your brother," said Hermione when she came out, clad in her bathrobe. She and Emma walked into nearly one-year-old Jack's room, where the boy was sitting in his crib playing with some toys.
"Ready to get up, my little man?" Hermione asked. Jack looked up right away at the sound of his mother's voice, and stood at the side of the crib, waiting to be picked up. Hermione reached for him and then let him rest against her hip as they left the room and moved down the hall to two and a half year old Olivia's room. One peek into the room told Hermione that her second child was still sleeping, and she smiled and shut the door again behind her, leading Emma and Jack downstairs.
"You don't want to wake her up?" Emma asked.
"She's like daddy the way she sleeps," said Hermione. "There's no need to wake her up on such a special day."
"You mean she gets to sleep cause it's my birthday?" Emma asked.
"Well," Hermione began. "I was actually thinking about it being your dad's birthday. This is a big birthday, you know."
"Why?"
"Your dad's turning thirty today," said Hermione, and as she said it she couldn't believe her words. It still seemed like only yesterday that they were still in Hogwarts.
"So?" Emma asked. "I'm six!"
Hermione laughed. "I know you are," she said. "And I think it's your special day too. It's just that when someone turns thirty, it's usually a pretty big event."
"How come?" Emma asked.
Hermione put Jack in his high chair before continuing. "Well, a lot of people think that when you turn thirty you're getting older. Some people think it's when you're really an adult."
"Are you thirty?" Emma asked.
"No," said Hermione, quick to keep her age still at twenty-nine. "No, not yet."
"Are we going to do something for dad's birthday?" Emma asked.
Hermione leaned close to Emma. "Don't tell your dad, but we're going to have a surprise birthday party at grandma's house later." Emma smiled widely, and made a motion as if to zipper her mouth shut.
"The secret's safe with me, mummy!" she exclaimed.
* * *
An hour later, Emma, Olivia (who had come downstairs still quite sleepy eyed about twenty minutes after Hermione) and Jack were well fed, and Ron was still snoozing away upstairs. Seeing that the children were secure where they were, with Jack in his playpen, and Emma and Olivia watching a movie, Hermione went upstairs to see if Ron had any plans to get out of bed.
When she entered the bedroom, he was still snuggled tightly under the covers. She got in next to him and put her arm around him. "Happy Birthday, love," she whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. Ron's groan told her that he had been up for quite a while.
"I'm not getting up!" he said, sounding very much like one of the children.
"Oh, Ron," said Hermione. "Come on. It's your birthday. AND your daughter's birthday, I might mention."
"I don't care," said Ron. "I'm staying right here."
"Time is not going to go backwards if you stay in bed, love," said Hermione. "Now, come on, downstairs."
"Are you sure I can make it?" Ron asked. "I might be too old to walk downstairs anymore."
Hermione laughed, and Ron looked at her with just one eye open. "It's not funny."
Hermione continued to laugh as she said, "Yes, it is."
"You don't know!" he exclaimed. "You're still young! You're not going to be as old as I am for another six months!"
"Well, for someone who thinks he's so old, you're certainly acting like a big baby!" Hermione said matter-of-factly, which caused her and Ron to engage in a small staring contest.
"I'm not a baby!" Ron finally said, and he buried his head under the covers. "And I'm too old for you. How can you stand to sleep next to me?"
Hermione laughed again, and snuggled closer to him, moving the blankets so they were eye to eye. "I'll have you know," she said, and she kissed him, "that you happen to be the most attractive man I know."
"Really?" Ron asked.
"Really," Hermione confirmed. "And I don't care how old you get." She kissed him again. "I will always, always, want to be right here next to you." She placed a hand on the side of his face. "Understand?"
"Prove it," he said glumly, but he responded instantly when Hermione kissed him deeply. He was at a loss for words - and breath, for that matter - when she pulled away from him.
"Proof enough?" she asked.
"I suppose," said Ron, but Hermione knew that she had him defeated, "but I still think I'm old."
Hermione responded with another kiss, and then she coaxed him out of bed so that they could start their day.
* * *
"SURPRISE!" the family shouted as Ron and Hermione entered the living room of the Burrow. Ron was instantly taken aback, having thought that he would spend a quiet evening celebrating his birthday with his wife, children, parents, and his sister's family. He could see that was not the case as he saw all of his brothers standing in front of him, with their families. He immediately blushed beet red, and Hermione kissed his cheek when she saw this.
"Was this your idea?" he asked his sister when she came to hug him.
"It always is, isn't it?" Ginny said as she hugged him back before moving on to greet Hermione.
"I tried to stop her," said Harry as he shook Ron's hand. "But there's no stopping Gin when she gets an idea in her head. But, happy birthday, mate."
"Yeah, whatever," said Ron, having retained some of his bitterness from the morning. Still, he greeted his family with warm smiles, and was even able to get into the party by the end of the evening (even though he was smiling more at Emma's birthday cake with six candles, rather than at his own that, as a joke from Fred and George, contained 300 candles instead of just 30).
At the end of the day, he had to admit that his birthday hadn't been that bad. He told Hermione as they lay in bed that night.
"See," she said. "I told you."
"And you meant what you said?" he asked. "That you love me no matter how old I get?"
"Actually, I believe I said I wouldn't mind sleeping next to you no matter how old you got," Hermione teased. "But of course I love you. No matter how old you get."
"Even if I have thinning hair like my dad?" Ron asked, and Hermione could hear real concern in his voice.
"Of course," said Hermione, and she looked at him. "Though I don't think you need to worry about that." Ron smiled and ran a hand through his red hair, which so far had shown no signs of receding. He looked over at his wife, and then pulled her closer to him.
"I'll love you no matter how old YOU get," he said affectionately, and they both fell asleep.
* * *
July 31st
"Daddy!" Three-year-old Lily Potter squealed as her father spun her around in circles in their backyard. They had just finished a celebratory dinner in honor of Harry's thirtieth birthday, and were now relaxing in the backyard.
"Harry!" Ginny warned, but there was amusement on her face. "She just ate. If she throws up, don't blame me!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, putting Lily on the ground. She swayed on her feet before she fell on her behind, giggling.
"You okay, my girl?" Harry asked her.
"I'm okay, daddy," she said. She was still laughing.
"Come on! Cake time!" Ginny called out, and she emerged from the house carrying a birthday cake. "Let's all sing happy birthday to daddy!"
James appeared from behind a tree and ran to the table, beating his father and sister there. "Can I help with the candles?" he asked.
"No, I want to!" Lily exclaimed, and she broke off into a run towards the table where Ginny had now set the cake down.
"No, me!" James exclaimed. "I'm older!"
"You can BOTH help," said Ginny. "That is, if daddy doesn't want to do it himself."
"Do what?" asked Harry.
"Blow out your birthday candles," Ginny explained.
"I don't know," said Harry. "Looks like a lot of candles to me. I think I might need two helpers."
"Yay!" Lily exclaimed. "Let's sing!" She, Ginny and James broke out into song, and Harry smiled at them, though his lifelong attempts to be out of the spotlight made him uncomfortable even when people were singing the birthday song to him.
"Time to blow them out!" James exclaimed when they were done, and Harry helped Lily reach the cake and she and James had all the candles out within seconds.
"I want the pink flower, mummy," said Lily as she eyed the cake. Ginny cut into the cake, giving Harry the first piece. She obliged Lily with her pink flower, and then cut a third piece for James, finally getting one for herself. The small family sat around the table, enjoying it.
"I know you wanted to have the big party," said Harry, "but this is so much better."
"I still think we should have done something more," said Ginny.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Harry, this is your THIRTIETH birthday," Ginny said. "You have to have a big celebration."
"It's just another birthday," said Harry. "I don't see why it has to be such a big deal." Ginny seemed disappointed in her husband's lack of enthusiasm so he added, "This is what I like. A nice night at home with my favorite wife and kids."
"Favorite, huh?" asked Ginny, her face brightening. "And how many am I being compared to, may I ask?"
"You know you're the only one," said Harry, also smiling at her. "I don't need anymore to tell me you're the best one."
Ginny smiled at him and was about to say something back when she glanced at Lily, "Lily, sweetie, don't do that." Harry looked over and saw that Lily had "painted" her face with the cake frosting.
"It's pretty!" she said.
"Well, of course it's pretty," said Ginny, attempting not to insult the little girl, "but it's very messy, so why don't we go inside and wash it off. It's just about time to get ready for bed anyway."
Lily obliged, and she and Ginny headed into the house. "Don't you need to be thinking about getting to sleep soon?" Harry asked James.
"No, I'm eight now," said James. "I can go to bed later."
"Is that so?" Harry asked.
"Uh-huh," James said with a nod.
"We'll see," said Harry, and the tone in his voice didn't sound very promising to James.
"Please, dad?" James asked. "Please?"
"Well, I think it'll be all right," said Harry. James smiled.
"Mum won't think it's all right though," said James.
"Well," said Harry and he leaned in to have a confidential chat with James, "today's not mummy's birthday is it?" James laughed, happy to be a conspirator with his father.
* * * Ginny wasn't happy that Harry had decided to let James stay up later, but she quickly got used to the idea and enjoyed the rest of the evening with her husband and son. When James finally dozed off on the couch, Harry and Ginny decided it was time they headed to bed as well. With Harry's help, James was placed safely in his own bed.
"You know we're expected at Ron and Hermione's early tomorrow morning?" Ginny asked Harry.
"Were they upset that they couldn't spend the day with us?" Harry asked.
"I don't think so," said Ginny. "They understood. They like to spend time alone once in a while as well."
"I'm sure Ron would have liked to wallow away his sorrows by himself on his birthday," said Harry. "How come you insisted on having a party for him?"
"Because he's my brother," said Ginny, "and it's my job to do whatever my brother wants the least. With you though, I want to keep you around for a while, so I thought it best not to have a big party if you asked me not to."
"And I REALLY, REALLY do appreciate that, Gin," said Harry. "I don't want to be in the spotlight, even if it is my birthday."
"You certainly had a lot of owls today though," said Ginny, remembering the hailstorm of envelopes that had come in the mail that morning. "Did you get through them all?"
"Are you kidding?" Harry asked. "There must be one from every student at Hogwarts!"
"You found the good ones though, right?" Ginny asked.
"If you mean the ones from people I know, yeah," said Harry. "Neville and Luna send their birthday greeting and best wishes, along with a drawing from Frankie." Ginny smiled. "And Hagrid, once again, sent food no one's going to eat, but you gotta love his big heart. And then, you know, there's the other staff at Hogwarts, your parents, Ron and Hermione, etc."
"And the kids," said Ginny.
"That goes without saying," said Harry. "And you, of course."
Ginny smiled and kissed Harry before reaching over and turning off the lamp beside the bed. "I'm glad you enjoyed your birthday," said Ginny.
"Thanks," said Harry. "Love you."
"Love you too," said Ginny. "Good night."
"Night, Gin."
* * *
September 19th
"So, how does it feel, Hermione?" Ginny asked when she and Hermione were having lunch. "The big 3-0?"
"I am NOT thirty," said Hermione. "I am twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty-five days old."
"That bad, huh?" asked Ginny, amused.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Hermione, determined to be in denial and refusing to acknowledge her birthday.
"Okay," said Ginny, "if you say so." They continued to enjoy their lunch, talking about anything and everything except the fact that it was Hermione's birthday.
* * *
Harry, Ginny, James and Lily joined Ron, Hermione and their children for dinner that night. Ron had insisted that they go out for dinner, even though his earlier conversations with Hermione made him decide to skip the step when the waiters come out with cake and sing happy birthday to her.
"It's not my birthday," said Hermione. "I'm done with birthdays. Don't need them anymore."
"Hermione," said Ron. "You're being unreasonable."
"Unreasonable?" Hermione asked. "Ron, on your birthday you hid under the covers for half the morning."
"Yes, but at least I acknowledged the fact that it was my birthday, even though I wasn't too happy about it," Ron said.
"That's where we're different then," said Hermione. "I have simply decided that I am not going to have any more birthdays. I am twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty five days old."
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, frustrated. "I want to celebrate with you. Can't you at least make an effort."
"Think of something else to celebrate," said Hermione, "and I will be happy to celebrate with you."
Ron smiled at her, despite her attitude about her birthday, and did a calculation in his mind. "Okay," he said. "Today we will celebrate how much I love you."
Hermione laughed and him and kissed him. "Thanks for making up crap for me." She finished getting dressed, and they were ready to go when Harry and Ginny arrived.
Dinner had gone well, as Ron - and Ginny - had already warned Harry that Hermione would not speak to him if he mentioned her birthday. The only people Hermione was sweet to when they said happy birthday to her were the children, who she thought too young to understand her explanation of how old she believed herself to be. Other than that, she spent the evening dodging the subject, and instead asking Harry how his third year of teaching at Hogwarts was turning out, always fascinated to know more about the world of education.
"Why doesn't mummy want us to sing to her?" Three-year-old Olivia asked Ron when dessert came.
"She's just being shy today," said Ron. "You know she doesn't like it when the people in the restaurant look at her."
Olivia didn't recall her mother being shy about things like that in the past, but she stayed quiet and ate her ice cream happily. "She doesn't like her birthday, does she?" she asked Ron after a few moments.
"Not this year," said Ron.
"I like MY birthday," said Olivia, as though disliking your birthday was the craziest thing she had ever heard. She gestured for Ron to lean closer to her, and she said, "Maybe mummy's not feeling well."
Ron laughed. "Maybe," he said, and he kissed his daughter on the cheek before she went back to the sundae in front of her.
* * *
"Are you ready for your present?" Ron asked as Hermione was getting ready for bed that night. He had snaked his arms around her and whispered in her ear. Hermione looked at him through the mirror she was standing in front of.
"Ron, you've given me so many presents," she said. "How can there be more?"
"This one is special," Ron said, and she turned in his arms until she was facing him.
"Okay," she said. "What is it?"
"One second," said Ron, and he went to the table beside his side of the bed and pulled out a sheet of paper. He opened it and let Hermione read it. It was a hotel receipt.
Hermione gasped. "Paris?" she asked. "All of us?"
"All of us," Ron confirmed. "Harry, Ginny and the kids too."
"Oh my god," said Hermione. "I've always wanted to take you to Paris."
"I know," said Ron. "And I can't wait to take YOU there." He pulled her close. "Just think of how romantic it will be. A boat cruise along the Seine. Seeing the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. April in Paris."
"Let me see," said Hermione and she reached for the receipt that Ron held in his hand.
"I'll give you this," said Ron, holding the receipt above her head, "if you tell me how old you really are today."
Hermione stopped reaching for the tickets. "Ron..," she said.
"Tell me," said Ron, with a gleam in his eye. "There's nothing to be ashamed of love."
Hermione cast her eyes downward, then quickly looked at the papers in Ron's hand before looking at her shoes again and saying, softly, "Thirty."
Ron bent over a little. "What's that?" he asked. "I couldn't hear you."
"Thirty," said Hermione, loud enough for him to hear her.
"That's what I thought you said," Ron said, and he handed her the hotel receipt. "Love, there's nothing wrong with being thirty. Look, I've been thirty for six months now, and I've gotten over it."
Hermione laughed, in spite of herself. "It just makes me feel sad, that's all," she said. "It's been a long time since we've been teenagers."
"I know," said Ron, "but don't you think that's a good thing? We've got our own money now, we don't have to be home by a certain hour to please our parents, and if we were still teenagers, we wouldn't have Emma, Olivia and Jack."
"True," said Hermione.
"And, besides, seeing as I love you more everyday that I spend with you, getting older is actually a good thing," said Ron. Hermione smiled at him. "And you know what? You're the most beautiful twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty five day old I know."
Hermione laughed and hugged him, so hard that they fell onto their bed, laughing.
Chapter Three: Turning Thirty
March 1st
Emma Weasley skipped down the hallway of her house on the morning of March 1st, singing, "It's my birthday! It's my birthday! I'm six years old today!"
"Emma!" her mother called to her. "Your dad's still sleeping! I think we can let him sleep, seeing as it's his birthday today too."
Emma stopped skipping and poked her head in the bedroom door. "Sorry, mummy! I forgot."
"It's okay," said Hermione. "Wait for me, we'll go downstairs and get some breakfast."
"Okay," said Emma, and she hopped from one foot to the other waiting for her mother to emerge from the bedroom.
"Let's get your brother," said Hermione when she came out, clad in her bathrobe. She and Emma walked into nearly one-year-old Jack's room, where the boy was sitting in his crib playing with some toys.
"Ready to get up, my little man?" Hermione asked. Jack looked up right away at the sound of his mother's voice, and stood at the side of the crib, waiting to be picked up. Hermione reached for him and then let him rest against her hip as they left the room and moved down the hall to two and a half year old Olivia's room. One peek into the room told Hermione that her second child was still sleeping, and she smiled and shut the door again behind her, leading Emma and Jack downstairs.
"You don't want to wake her up?" Emma asked.
"She's like daddy the way she sleeps," said Hermione. "There's no need to wake her up on such a special day."
"You mean she gets to sleep cause it's my birthday?" Emma asked.
"Well," Hermione began. "I was actually thinking about it being your dad's birthday. This is a big birthday, you know."
"Why?"
"Your dad's turning thirty today," said Hermione, and as she said it she couldn't believe her words. It still seemed like only yesterday that they were still in Hogwarts.
"So?" Emma asked. "I'm six!"
Hermione laughed. "I know you are," she said. "And I think it's your special day too. It's just that when someone turns thirty, it's usually a pretty big event."
"How come?" Emma asked.
Hermione put Jack in his high chair before continuing. "Well, a lot of people think that when you turn thirty you're getting older. Some people think it's when you're really an adult."
"Are you thirty?" Emma asked.
"No," said Hermione, quick to keep her age still at twenty-nine. "No, not yet."
"Are we going to do something for dad's birthday?" Emma asked.
Hermione leaned close to Emma. "Don't tell your dad, but we're going to have a surprise birthday party at grandma's house later." Emma smiled widely, and made a motion as if to zipper her mouth shut.
"The secret's safe with me, mummy!" she exclaimed.
* * *
An hour later, Emma, Olivia (who had come downstairs still quite sleepy eyed about twenty minutes after Hermione) and Jack were well fed, and Ron was still snoozing away upstairs. Seeing that the children were secure where they were, with Jack in his playpen, and Emma and Olivia watching a movie, Hermione went upstairs to see if Ron had any plans to get out of bed.
When she entered the bedroom, he was still snuggled tightly under the covers. She got in next to him and put her arm around him. "Happy Birthday, love," she whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. Ron's groan told her that he had been up for quite a while.
"I'm not getting up!" he said, sounding very much like one of the children.
"Oh, Ron," said Hermione. "Come on. It's your birthday. AND your daughter's birthday, I might mention."
"I don't care," said Ron. "I'm staying right here."
"Time is not going to go backwards if you stay in bed, love," said Hermione. "Now, come on, downstairs."
"Are you sure I can make it?" Ron asked. "I might be too old to walk downstairs anymore."
Hermione laughed, and Ron looked at her with just one eye open. "It's not funny."
Hermione continued to laugh as she said, "Yes, it is."
"You don't know!" he exclaimed. "You're still young! You're not going to be as old as I am for another six months!"
"Well, for someone who thinks he's so old, you're certainly acting like a big baby!" Hermione said matter-of-factly, which caused her and Ron to engage in a small staring contest.
"I'm not a baby!" Ron finally said, and he buried his head under the covers. "And I'm too old for you. How can you stand to sleep next to me?"
Hermione laughed again, and snuggled closer to him, moving the blankets so they were eye to eye. "I'll have you know," she said, and she kissed him, "that you happen to be the most attractive man I know."
"Really?" Ron asked.
"Really," Hermione confirmed. "And I don't care how old you get." She kissed him again. "I will always, always, want to be right here next to you." She placed a hand on the side of his face. "Understand?"
"Prove it," he said glumly, but he responded instantly when Hermione kissed him deeply. He was at a loss for words - and breath, for that matter - when she pulled away from him.
"Proof enough?" she asked.
"I suppose," said Ron, but Hermione knew that she had him defeated, "but I still think I'm old."
Hermione responded with another kiss, and then she coaxed him out of bed so that they could start their day.
* * *
"SURPRISE!" the family shouted as Ron and Hermione entered the living room of the Burrow. Ron was instantly taken aback, having thought that he would spend a quiet evening celebrating his birthday with his wife, children, parents, and his sister's family. He could see that was not the case as he saw all of his brothers standing in front of him, with their families. He immediately blushed beet red, and Hermione kissed his cheek when she saw this.
"Was this your idea?" he asked his sister when she came to hug him.
"It always is, isn't it?" Ginny said as she hugged him back before moving on to greet Hermione.
"I tried to stop her," said Harry as he shook Ron's hand. "But there's no stopping Gin when she gets an idea in her head. But, happy birthday, mate."
"Yeah, whatever," said Ron, having retained some of his bitterness from the morning. Still, he greeted his family with warm smiles, and was even able to get into the party by the end of the evening (even though he was smiling more at Emma's birthday cake with six candles, rather than at his own that, as a joke from Fred and George, contained 300 candles instead of just 30).
At the end of the day, he had to admit that his birthday hadn't been that bad. He told Hermione as they lay in bed that night.
"See," she said. "I told you."
"And you meant what you said?" he asked. "That you love me no matter how old I get?"
"Actually, I believe I said I wouldn't mind sleeping next to you no matter how old you got," Hermione teased. "But of course I love you. No matter how old you get."
"Even if I have thinning hair like my dad?" Ron asked, and Hermione could hear real concern in his voice.
"Of course," said Hermione, and she looked at him. "Though I don't think you need to worry about that." Ron smiled and ran a hand through his red hair, which so far had shown no signs of receding. He looked over at his wife, and then pulled her closer to him.
"I'll love you no matter how old YOU get," he said affectionately, and they both fell asleep.
* * *
July 31st
"Daddy!" Three-year-old Lily Potter squealed as her father spun her around in circles in their backyard. They had just finished a celebratory dinner in honor of Harry's thirtieth birthday, and were now relaxing in the backyard.
"Harry!" Ginny warned, but there was amusement on her face. "She just ate. If she throws up, don't blame me!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, putting Lily on the ground. She swayed on her feet before she fell on her behind, giggling.
"You okay, my girl?" Harry asked her.
"I'm okay, daddy," she said. She was still laughing.
"Come on! Cake time!" Ginny called out, and she emerged from the house carrying a birthday cake. "Let's all sing happy birthday to daddy!"
James appeared from behind a tree and ran to the table, beating his father and sister there. "Can I help with the candles?" he asked.
"No, I want to!" Lily exclaimed, and she broke off into a run towards the table where Ginny had now set the cake down.
"No, me!" James exclaimed. "I'm older!"
"You can BOTH help," said Ginny. "That is, if daddy doesn't want to do it himself."
"Do what?" asked Harry.
"Blow out your birthday candles," Ginny explained.
"I don't know," said Harry. "Looks like a lot of candles to me. I think I might need two helpers."
"Yay!" Lily exclaimed. "Let's sing!" She, Ginny and James broke out into song, and Harry smiled at them, though his lifelong attempts to be out of the spotlight made him uncomfortable even when people were singing the birthday song to him.
"Time to blow them out!" James exclaimed when they were done, and Harry helped Lily reach the cake and she and James had all the candles out within seconds.
"I want the pink flower, mummy," said Lily as she eyed the cake. Ginny cut into the cake, giving Harry the first piece. She obliged Lily with her pink flower, and then cut a third piece for James, finally getting one for herself. The small family sat around the table, enjoying it.
"I know you wanted to have the big party," said Harry, "but this is so much better."
"I still think we should have done something more," said Ginny.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Harry, this is your THIRTIETH birthday," Ginny said. "You have to have a big celebration."
"It's just another birthday," said Harry. "I don't see why it has to be such a big deal." Ginny seemed disappointed in her husband's lack of enthusiasm so he added, "This is what I like. A nice night at home with my favorite wife and kids."
"Favorite, huh?" asked Ginny, her face brightening. "And how many am I being compared to, may I ask?"
"You know you're the only one," said Harry, also smiling at her. "I don't need anymore to tell me you're the best one."
Ginny smiled at him and was about to say something back when she glanced at Lily, "Lily, sweetie, don't do that." Harry looked over and saw that Lily had "painted" her face with the cake frosting.
"It's pretty!" she said.
"Well, of course it's pretty," said Ginny, attempting not to insult the little girl, "but it's very messy, so why don't we go inside and wash it off. It's just about time to get ready for bed anyway."
Lily obliged, and she and Ginny headed into the house. "Don't you need to be thinking about getting to sleep soon?" Harry asked James.
"No, I'm eight now," said James. "I can go to bed later."
"Is that so?" Harry asked.
"Uh-huh," James said with a nod.
"We'll see," said Harry, and the tone in his voice didn't sound very promising to James.
"Please, dad?" James asked. "Please?"
"Well, I think it'll be all right," said Harry. James smiled.
"Mum won't think it's all right though," said James.
"Well," said Harry and he leaned in to have a confidential chat with James, "today's not mummy's birthday is it?" James laughed, happy to be a conspirator with his father.
* * * Ginny wasn't happy that Harry had decided to let James stay up later, but she quickly got used to the idea and enjoyed the rest of the evening with her husband and son. When James finally dozed off on the couch, Harry and Ginny decided it was time they headed to bed as well. With Harry's help, James was placed safely in his own bed.
"You know we're expected at Ron and Hermione's early tomorrow morning?" Ginny asked Harry.
"Were they upset that they couldn't spend the day with us?" Harry asked.
"I don't think so," said Ginny. "They understood. They like to spend time alone once in a while as well."
"I'm sure Ron would have liked to wallow away his sorrows by himself on his birthday," said Harry. "How come you insisted on having a party for him?"
"Because he's my brother," said Ginny, "and it's my job to do whatever my brother wants the least. With you though, I want to keep you around for a while, so I thought it best not to have a big party if you asked me not to."
"And I REALLY, REALLY do appreciate that, Gin," said Harry. "I don't want to be in the spotlight, even if it is my birthday."
"You certainly had a lot of owls today though," said Ginny, remembering the hailstorm of envelopes that had come in the mail that morning. "Did you get through them all?"
"Are you kidding?" Harry asked. "There must be one from every student at Hogwarts!"
"You found the good ones though, right?" Ginny asked.
"If you mean the ones from people I know, yeah," said Harry. "Neville and Luna send their birthday greeting and best wishes, along with a drawing from Frankie." Ginny smiled. "And Hagrid, once again, sent food no one's going to eat, but you gotta love his big heart. And then, you know, there's the other staff at Hogwarts, your parents, Ron and Hermione, etc."
"And the kids," said Ginny.
"That goes without saying," said Harry. "And you, of course."
Ginny smiled and kissed Harry before reaching over and turning off the lamp beside the bed. "I'm glad you enjoyed your birthday," said Ginny.
"Thanks," said Harry. "Love you."
"Love you too," said Ginny. "Good night."
"Night, Gin."
* * *
September 19th
"So, how does it feel, Hermione?" Ginny asked when she and Hermione were having lunch. "The big 3-0?"
"I am NOT thirty," said Hermione. "I am twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty-five days old."
"That bad, huh?" asked Ginny, amused.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Hermione, determined to be in denial and refusing to acknowledge her birthday.
"Okay," said Ginny, "if you say so." They continued to enjoy their lunch, talking about anything and everything except the fact that it was Hermione's birthday.
* * *
Harry, Ginny, James and Lily joined Ron, Hermione and their children for dinner that night. Ron had insisted that they go out for dinner, even though his earlier conversations with Hermione made him decide to skip the step when the waiters come out with cake and sing happy birthday to her.
"It's not my birthday," said Hermione. "I'm done with birthdays. Don't need them anymore."
"Hermione," said Ron. "You're being unreasonable."
"Unreasonable?" Hermione asked. "Ron, on your birthday you hid under the covers for half the morning."
"Yes, but at least I acknowledged the fact that it was my birthday, even though I wasn't too happy about it," Ron said.
"That's where we're different then," said Hermione. "I have simply decided that I am not going to have any more birthdays. I am twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty five days old."
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, frustrated. "I want to celebrate with you. Can't you at least make an effort."
"Think of something else to celebrate," said Hermione, "and I will be happy to celebrate with you."
Ron smiled at her, despite her attitude about her birthday, and did a calculation in his mind. "Okay," he said. "Today we will celebrate how much I love you."
Hermione laughed and him and kissed him. "Thanks for making up crap for me." She finished getting dressed, and they were ready to go when Harry and Ginny arrived.
Dinner had gone well, as Ron - and Ginny - had already warned Harry that Hermione would not speak to him if he mentioned her birthday. The only people Hermione was sweet to when they said happy birthday to her were the children, who she thought too young to understand her explanation of how old she believed herself to be. Other than that, she spent the evening dodging the subject, and instead asking Harry how his third year of teaching at Hogwarts was turning out, always fascinated to know more about the world of education.
"Why doesn't mummy want us to sing to her?" Three-year-old Olivia asked Ron when dessert came.
"She's just being shy today," said Ron. "You know she doesn't like it when the people in the restaurant look at her."
Olivia didn't recall her mother being shy about things like that in the past, but she stayed quiet and ate her ice cream happily. "She doesn't like her birthday, does she?" she asked Ron after a few moments.
"Not this year," said Ron.
"I like MY birthday," said Olivia, as though disliking your birthday was the craziest thing she had ever heard. She gestured for Ron to lean closer to her, and she said, "Maybe mummy's not feeling well."
Ron laughed. "Maybe," he said, and he kissed his daughter on the cheek before she went back to the sundae in front of her.
* * *
"Are you ready for your present?" Ron asked as Hermione was getting ready for bed that night. He had snaked his arms around her and whispered in her ear. Hermione looked at him through the mirror she was standing in front of.
"Ron, you've given me so many presents," she said. "How can there be more?"
"This one is special," Ron said, and she turned in his arms until she was facing him.
"Okay," she said. "What is it?"
"One second," said Ron, and he went to the table beside his side of the bed and pulled out a sheet of paper. He opened it and let Hermione read it. It was a hotel receipt.
Hermione gasped. "Paris?" she asked. "All of us?"
"All of us," Ron confirmed. "Harry, Ginny and the kids too."
"Oh my god," said Hermione. "I've always wanted to take you to Paris."
"I know," said Ron. "And I can't wait to take YOU there." He pulled her close. "Just think of how romantic it will be. A boat cruise along the Seine. Seeing the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. April in Paris."
"Let me see," said Hermione and she reached for the receipt that Ron held in his hand.
"I'll give you this," said Ron, holding the receipt above her head, "if you tell me how old you really are today."
Hermione stopped reaching for the tickets. "Ron..," she said.
"Tell me," said Ron, with a gleam in his eye. "There's nothing to be ashamed of love."
Hermione cast her eyes downward, then quickly looked at the papers in Ron's hand before looking at her shoes again and saying, softly, "Thirty."
Ron bent over a little. "What's that?" he asked. "I couldn't hear you."
"Thirty," said Hermione, loud enough for him to hear her.
"That's what I thought you said," Ron said, and he handed her the hotel receipt. "Love, there's nothing wrong with being thirty. Look, I've been thirty for six months now, and I've gotten over it."
Hermione laughed, in spite of herself. "It just makes me feel sad, that's all," she said. "It's been a long time since we've been teenagers."
"I know," said Ron, "but don't you think that's a good thing? We've got our own money now, we don't have to be home by a certain hour to please our parents, and if we were still teenagers, we wouldn't have Emma, Olivia and Jack."
"True," said Hermione.
"And, besides, seeing as I love you more everyday that I spend with you, getting older is actually a good thing," said Ron. Hermione smiled at him. "And you know what? You're the most beautiful twenty-nine and three hundred and sixty five day old I know."
Hermione laughed and hugged him, so hard that they fell onto their bed, laughing.