Dumbledore and Harry's Adventures

Lucky Thirteen

A week later, Harry awoke with a luxurious stretch. He looked over at the two dozen books he had floating in the corner. He had yet to figure out the trick for ending the spell for one specific book, but he felt like it was coming. It was only a matter of focus and concentration, which was slowly building with his nightly meditations. Failing that, he had spent the past week adding lanes to his mental bowling alley so that he could keep more items levitating. He was pleased to note that he wasn't feeling any sort of drain from the books, other than a strain on his focus when he constructed new lanes at night.

As for Albus, there had been no retaliation for the water balloon prank. Rather, the old man had beamed and congratulated Harry for a job well done. Followed by a warning that it would be ill advised to attempt the same trick twice. Harry wasn't sure what protections Albus had put in place, but he was certain they would be effective. For now, Harry was happy to simply relax and bask in his victory.

Of course, all of that was not at the forefront of Harry's mind this morning. Rather, he was focused on one simple fact. While the bar had been set incredibly low, the fact remained that waking up in a comfortable bed, in a room where he could freely practice wandless magic, in a house full of people who cared for him, made this the best birthday of his entire life.

The brand-new thirteen-year-old wizard arose, bathed, dressed, and prepared for the day. With a happy smile, he walked out of his room and down the hall toward the dining room. Before entering he paused as he overheard Albus speaking with an exasperated tone.

"... is just a bit too much. I'm all for Harry getting a cake, but there are only five individuals here who are going to have a slice. Well, six if you can convince Jean to have a slice."

A scoff could be heard, which Harry recognized as coming from the House Elf named Jean. It was the closest the extremely proper being would come to expressing rudeness.

Harry turned his attention back to the sound of a piece of furniture scraping against the floor, followed by a second piece of furniture, followed by clunking sound of wood on wood. Once completed, Dobby began to speak in a highly aggressive tone.

"Albussy will not be ruining Harry Potter Sir's birthday. Harry Potter Sir deserves a cake fitting of his wonderfulness. Unless..." Dobby's tone turned silently threatening. "... unless Albussy is saying that Harry Potter Sir is not wonderful?"

Harry snuck silently into the room to see what was happening, and possibly break up whatever was going on. He was surprised to see Dobby standing on top of a chair, that was precariously balanced on the arms of another chair. The apparent reason was so that Dobby could stand up and see eye to eye with Albus. The two were locked in a silent stare-off. Neither one backing down. As the silence stretched on, Harry started to wonder if he should intervene. Before it came to that, Albus raised his hands in front of himself, palms out in a placating manner.

"Alright, Dobby. You win. You get Harry's birthdays. But I get Halloweens! We can figure out how to share Christmas. Deal?"

Dobby stared at Albus shrewdly, and then nodded his head once. "Deal!"

Harry watched, bemused, as the two shook hands. When he let out a small chuckle, the two turned to face Harry. At which point, Dobby began to excitedly wish Harry a very Happy Birthday and usher him to the table.

As Harry listened to Dobby's effusive praise, he looked at the cake that had been the object of dispute. He honestly could say that Albus had a point. The thing was huge. The table had been clearly expanded (and hopefully strengthened) to hold the behemoth. It was at least six feet tall, composed of a dozen or so layers. Around the rims of each layer were intricate pictures painted with frosting. Harry saw lightning bolts, his glasses, silken socks, the basilisk (taking up a full layer), the Sword of Gryffindor (taking up another layer), Hedwig, and countless copies of Harry's face. The top layer was a faithful recreation of Harry's head. Harry wondered, assuming the cake could be kept magically fresh until finished, if there was even a chance that the whole thing could be consumed before his next birthday rolled around.