The rest of their time up until Harry's birthday celebration was spent getting everything in order. In the afternoon, a handful of hours after the argument over the bag of galleons, hundreds of little bangs resonated simultaneously outside the house. Harry had leapt to his feet, drawn his wand, and was halfway to the door before George caught his arm and held him back.
"Are you guys serious, you didn't warn him?" The older boy reprimanded his family. "Not like Harry is used to sudden threats or anything."
The Weasley parents and Ron apologized quickly to Harry, who laughed it off and tried unsuccessfully to relax as they went out into the yard. Waiting for them, each holding as many bags full of decorations and dishes as they could manage, were what appeared to be the entire house-elf staff of Hogwarts, plus one extra familiar face.
"Kreacher," Harry said happily, as he saw his elf carefully pushing his way through to the front of the group.
"Master Harry," Kreacher said, almost smiling unfamiliarly. He bowed, and the rest of the elves all began a chorus of echoing greetings to the dark-haired boy. They bowed so deeply that it seemed they might get their pointy noses stuck in the ground.
"Oh, no," he said, flustered at the greeting. "Please just call me Harry. And you really don't need to bow like that."
The elves reacted strongly; some began to cry in shock, others jumped up and down, a few seemed slightly offended, and they all turned to each other. Muffled whispers along the lines of 'friend of the house-elves," 'it's true,' and 'dug a grave for Dobby!' could be heard scattered throughout the group.
With the initial greeting over, Harry quickly took the opportunity to thank them all for fighting during the Battle and helping to restore the castle. He told the elves that, should they be willing to accept, he would give them each a small amount of money once he got back to the castle next week. Hermione was then beside herself with joy, and promised that she would also personally make sure that they each got as much clothing as they wanted. To Harry's surprise, almost half the elves seemed excited about the idea, and both he and Hermione had their legs attacked by a flurry of tiny elf-hugs.
Mrs. Weasley took over from there, and smoothly directed everyone's efforts in setting up. After hours of hard work both that night and the following morning, by midday on July 31st the banquet table along the tree line had been covered in a deep gold cloth, and an astounding number of serving trays had been crammed onto every square centimeter of the surface. The sitting tables had been dressed in a red cloth with gold drapes, and the standing tables had been covered in long golden sheets with red drapes. In the center of the tables sat polished bronze centerpieces surrounded by early-autumn flowers and leaves of every color. The centerpieces at the standing tables were short, in the form of a snitch, while the seated tables centerpieces were taller; some depicted Harry's wand crossing the Elder wand, and some a simple lightning bolt in honor of his iconic scar.
Eventually, musicians and artists who wanted to contribute to the party had shown up a couple hours early as well. To the birthday boy's horror, a fantastic woodworker had made a larger-than-life carving of Harry himself, holding a broom in one hand, and raising his wand in the other. The plan was to place it in the corner of the venue, at the end of the banquet table. Harry had insisted that he didn't want the only statue to be of him, and the woodworker quickly offered to spend the next few hours carving out a Ron and Hermione to stand on either side of him, and a happy Dobby to go in front. Next to the statues there stood what appeared to be a wooden post box, similar in design to one you'd find on a city street, labeled 'cards.' Harry felt that if there truly were enough people wanting to leave cards for him to fill that box, he would be twenty by the time he finished reading them all.
Harry quickly learned that, thank goodness, the Weasley family was not paying as much as it seemed to host the event. The large majority of entertainment, food, and equipment was brought, sent, or lent to them for free by witches and wizards who wanted nothing more than to be involved in such a celebration. Famous bands, including- to Ginny's delight- The Weird Sisters, set up on stage and refused to accept any payment.
The decorations were tied together when everyone teamed up to levitate a series of crisscrossing banners at varying heights all across the yard above the tables. The majority of the banners were simply a series of Gryffindor flags strung together. Some were decorated with lions, some with the Hogwarts crest, and others were left blank. A couple of the banners even spelled out "POTTER" in shiny lettering. The string along the top of each banner was then enchanted to hold a series of gently sparkling amber lights. Harry imagined this would look lovely as the sun was setting.
By four o'clock in the afternoon, everything was ready, and the party had officially begun. The first round of lighter food was being set out by the elves, who politely insisted that they wouldn't join in, as they would be busy tending to the food and drinks. During the first two hours, not a minute seemed to go by without being punctuated by at least one gunshot-like Apparition noise. Harry could barely keep up with the number of birthday wishes and handshakes he was receiving from all the guests. He was shocked to see almost all his previous Hogwarts professors had shown up, as well as his classmates and their families. He was hugged and high-fived by a large number of his peers, and reintroduced to parents he had only briefly met during the reconstruction efforts. Harry also began to notice an alarming number of people dropping cards off into the designated slot. A few reporters even came, but they had been thoroughly vetted by Mrs. Weasley, who had bluntly informed them that if they dared try to interview Harry in any way they would never have a job again. They seemed happy enough to wander around chatting and taking photos of the festivities, occasionally finding people willing to share a story or two about Harry with them.
By seven o'clock, the sun had started to set, and over three hundred guests had arrived. Quite more than the Weasley's anticipated, but many seemed content to stand without tables or sit on the grass off to the side of the main yard. The house-elves were somehow keeping up with demand flawlessly, with dishes and food appearing each time people began wondering where to find them. When the main course had been served and eaten through, the banquet table was cleared, and half filled with a wide array of drinks. Another quarter was filled with a wonderful selection of pastries, sweets, and desserts, and the final quarter was mysteriously empty.
Quickly, though, Harry understood why the space was cleared. Very much like at Bill and Fleur's wedding, when dinner was done the guests all stood, and the center sitting tables vanished to be replaced by a dance floor. Lights were lit around the stage, and the sound of a microphone being turned on echoed through the hills. Everyone gasped as they saw a massive cake floating from around the side of the house, down the garden, and towards the table.
"Blimey, Harry," muttered Neville, who was standing beside him. "That must be twenty feet long!"
Harry half-laughed half-gasped as he saw what he assumed must have been the largest sheet cake in the world hovering towards him. He was quickly reminded of the first time he met Dobby, the memory become even more real as he noticed the cake was being levitated by a large group of house-elves. The cake was beautifully frosted with white icing, elaborately piped, with the occasional swirl of red and gold around the edges. The massive lettering spelled a traditional "Happy Birthday, Harry" on the top, and around the words sat eighteen individual foot-tall candles, all burning without dripping wax. The crowd quieted as they saw the cake approaching, until someone in the crowd began chanting.
"Har-ry! Har-ry!" the woman shouted.
Quickly enough, hundreds of voices joined in. Some people even stomped their feet or clapped along. As the cake hit the table in the back, the chanting of Harry's name merged with cheers and applause, scattered with the pops of the elves Disapparating out of the way. Ron and Hermione grabbed Harry's arms and dragged him through the crowd up to the table, where it was clear everyone was waiting for him to blow out the candles. Already completely red in the face from the cheers, Harry reluctantly took his spot in front of the massive cake. If he hadn't recently killed one of the most dangerous dark wizards of all time, Harry would have said that figuring out how to blow out the massive and widespread candles was a daunting task in front of such a large audience.
From beside his left shoulder, he heard Hermione quietly say something to him.
"Ventus," she suggested. "But it's quite strong."
Harry turned to her, beaming.
"This is why I'll always need you."
The girl blushed and turned her face away, as if trying to hide it among her many brown curls. Taking out his wand, Harry braced himself and held his hands steady perfectly in line with the tops of the candles.
"Ventus," he said boldly.
As he spoke, a strong and condensed blast of wind came from the end of his wand. Thankful he had braced himself, he slowly guided the gust over each candle. The trees shook violently behind the table, but luckily were just far enough away to not drop leaves on the food. As soon as the last candle was out, he flicked his wand upward to stop the spell. A small round of applause and a chorus of 'Happy Birthday!' started from behind him, and Mrs. Weasley appeared to pat him on the shoulder and begin slicing the cake.
A few instrumental sounds from the stage caused everyone to turn their heads in anticipation. Before the band was done setting up, however, there was a flash of red hair, and George Weasley was standing at the microphone. He tapped it a couple times and quickly had everyone's attention.
"Alright people," he started, with a very Fred-and-George attitude. "Grab your goblets."
Harry was relieved to already have his in hand, as he didn't much feel like drinking anything other than pumpkin juice tonight. He knew he would be the subject of much attention, and the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself. After a moment of mumbling, silence settled once more as everyone had found their cups.
"Right," George started again. "To Harry being absolutely shit at dying."
He lifted his goblet as the crowd roared with laughter, cheers, and agreement. Following suit, everyone else raised their goblets, and a metallic clinks rang out as some people tapped their cups together.
"Now get up here," George said, gesturing to Harry. "It wouldn't be right if we didn't put you on the spot at least once tonight."
The crowd murmured their support of this idea, slowly clearing a little path for Harry to walk up to the stage. He was suddenly very thankful that Mrs. Weasley had insisted on washing Harry's white button-up shirt and black pants that he had been wearing a couple days before, as it was the only outfit he brought to the Burrow that wasn't simply a t-shirt. After all, he didn't know he was going to have a party to attend.
When he got up to the stage, he saw every face he had truly cared about over the last seven years smiling up at him. Everyone who's still alive, Harry thought for a moment. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he stood in silence for a moment, turning his goblet around in his hands as he thought of what to say.
"Well, I have to admit," he settled on starting by following the humorous mood George had set. "I'm personally quite happy that my whole dying plan didn't work out."
Harry smiled as he spoke, finding it really rather funny now that he wasn't in any real danger for once. The crowd laughed and whooped loudly again, and Harry decided to get a bit more serious.
"Really, though, there was only one reason I was scared to die. It was the same reason I was willing to die; it was because I had all of you."
A chorus of 'aw' and 'Oh, Harry!' echoed through the crowd, and he thought that the light of the stage reflected quite a few teary eyes. Hagrid blew his nose rather loudly from the back, making Harry want to laugh a little. He had had quite enough crying the day before and was able to stay quite in control of his emotions as he spoke. Convenient, really, he thought, given the number of people who were probably photographing him at the moment.
"I know we aren't supposed to talk about it tonight," he continued, "and know I won't after this… But, please, if you lost someone you loved in our fight follow me."
Lighting the tip of his wand, Harry turned and headed around the wood carvings at the corner of the party venue, past the trees that marked the edge of the Weasley lawn. He kept walking for a while until he was partway up the nearest hill. Not at all to his surprise, when Harry turned around every guest had followed his path. They were all filling in at the bottom of the hill, their wands also glowing.
It was dusk, and Harry looked up at the open sky above him as he waited for the rest of the guests to settle into a spot in the field. He took a moment to look again at all the faces in front of him. Readying himself, he took a deep breath as a warm breeze passed by and ruffled his hair. Raising his wand high above his head, he let the light go out and yelled, almost as if leading a charge.
"For the fallen!"
As he shouted, he sent a red flare up into the sky as he had learned to do during the Triwizard Tournament. His guests, some silently and some with equally passionate cries, thrust their wands up in the air and sent identical red flares shooting up into the sky. Faces of friends and family glowed in the distant colored light, all turned upwards in a moment of silence as they allowed themselves to miss the ones they knew would be with them, had they only survived.
He noticed many people silently wiping away tears, and hugging family members. Some people were just simply holding hands, or gently placing a hand on the people near them in quiet support. To give them all a moment and to avoid needing to press back through the crowd, Harry Disapparated the short distance back behind the tree line and Apparated onto the dance floor. He waited by the stage, and when most people had filled the space back in he turned to The Twisted Sisters and gave them a thumbs up.
Almost instantly, stage lights flashed, and a drum beat signaled the start of a new phase of the party. Before Harry knew it, people were eating desserts, pouring drinks, and flooding the dance floor. Upbeat music blared from the magic speaker-less instruments and microphone with such volume that guests had to lean in and shout to talk to each other. Nobody seemed to mind, though, as it really did bring life to the gathering.
Unlike in his awkward younger years, Harry found he was much more comfortable dancing now. He finally felt happy and carefree enough to understand why people could enjoy it. He jumped around with Seamus, Ron, Neville, and the rest of the Gryffindor boys. He even danced properly with Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. Hagrid, wanting to dance with Harry too, ended up lifting him off the ground and spinning him around in the air. When a slow dance came on, George came running up to Harry and dropped to a knee to ask him to dance. Harry laughed out loud, and George put on the expression of a broken-hearted girl before dragging him out to the dance floor and twirling him around. It was an uncoordinated mess, because they were both in tears and gasping with laughter for most of the song. Briefly, it crossed his mind that he would be interested to see if the papers would take a stab at him for it or not.
The night went on, and Harry spoke animatedly with his friends and loved ones for hours. He almost didn't recognize himself; the lack of pressure, danger, urgency, and expectation bringing out a much more jovial side of his character. It was in this way that he spent the first day of his eighteenth year: not on some mission or another, not with a particularly important deadline, and not hatching a plan in the back of his mind. Tonight, he was just enjoying the moment, for once fully present.
Well, there was one thing he almost felt had been left behind at Hogwarts.
AN: I didn't plan on writing Harry's birthday party at all! But, honestly, don't we want to see Harry having a bit of fun? I think it's important to see how he acts now that he's not got a life-threatening task looming over his head.
Anyway, the scene will come in handy later, I promise! What do you think, is it worth it to see the day-to-day, or are you just spending the whole time looking for a bigger plot point to start developing?