𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 53

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH PRESENTS
ARE GIVEN

. . .

Jane's dress was sticking to her ankles and sand to the soles of her feet as she followed Harry quickly up the beach, even more arriving as it transitioned from the hard, wet sand to the soft, sun-warmed where they had left their stuff.

Dampened footsteps tracked out their journey behind them, and eventually they reached the blanket. "Harry - I'm sorry." Jane didn't look sorry in the slightest, laughter threatening to burst through her words. 

Harry turned back to her, absolutely drenched in seawater and trying to act even the littlest bit upset with her, but failing miserably. He fought a smile from his lips. "Nope, not having it." He shook his head and turned back towards their shared destination of the laid out picnic blanket - which reminded Harry terribly of the Hufflepuff banners displayed in the crowd of the final task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Laughter echoed behind him, growing a little louder as Jane caught up with him, bending down and retrieving one of the fluffy, pale green coloured towel and turned to him. "Stay still! I didn't mean to splash you that much." She smiled up at him, placing the towel around his head and beginning to dry his hair. 

"I know you didn't." It didn't take Harry long to break from his dissolve, prying Jane's hands from his hair and taking over. It had almost been an hour since their arrival, and most of it was spent down in the sea, watching their bags out of the corner of their eyes.

The pair of them sat down on the blanket, Harry taking off his shirt to dry and pulling out the spare one in his bag (he never knew what he and Jane would end up doing and liked to be prepared). Her dress was already drying, sped up by the slight breeze and the sun shining down over them. He tucked his shirt away, watching as Jane opened the hamper up a little further and extracted several small containers and a baking tin. 

"I've got a few of what I think are the ones you like the most?" Jane took the lids off one by one and laid them down by the wicker baskets. "I wasn't entirely sure - all I really know is you like treacle tart."

Harry's eyes were wide at such a display of food in front of him. Sure, he had been to many Hogwarts feasts and watching Mrs Weasley prepare food for not only Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny but also Bill and Charlie as well as herself and her husband - and Harry and Hermione the days before and after the Quidditch World Cup was incredible.

But never, in all of his life, had this much food been prepared and placed in front of him completely and utterly for him. "I made a lot.. sorry." Jane mistook his eyes darting around from container to container as confusion, hesitancy or even him being uncomfortable with it. "But I wasn't sure."

"No - really it's perfect. Thank you so much." Harry took one of the plates she offered him and began to load food onto it. The tuna and sweetcorn pasta she had made for dinner one time that she only knew how to make because of how easier it was for the kids at the home, the sandwiches which he had recieved so many times for their lunches out, such a variety of other diehs - even things that fared better as a breakfast or dessert.

Jane was watching as he took a sip of the small bottle of homemade lemonade she and Angela had made a couple days previous before sitting up. "Harry?" She asked, her voice holding an uncharacteristic wobble. "You wouldn't mind closing your eyes for me, would you?"

Instantly, the green eyes flickered shut behind the glasses, not a doubt in Harry's mind to whether he should or shouldn't. With his sight gone, he relied on his hearing to try and figure out what she was doing, but with the sound of sea crashing the shore and the occasional seagull squark, it was pretty hard. 

"Okay, on three." Jane told him, before beginning the countdown. "Three, two... and one." 

Harry's eyes shot open, blinking at the bright light. His eyes focused, landing on a butterfly bun with a red candle poking out from between the two 'wings'. 

"Happy birthday, Harry." The girl said gently. "Quick! Blow it out before the wind does." She encouraged him, and with a smile on his face which surely must have been wider than any other he had made before, he did just that. He didn't even have the chance to say anything before Jane was pulling a gift bag out of the hamper - it was probably why she had been so protective over the wicker basket all through their time there.

"For me?" He asked, as Jane leaned forward to push the bag into his hands, a glint of silver revealing a elaborately engraved lighter with the embelm of a phoenix with it's wings outstretched around a wand, and in front of it sat a small badger. 

"I know you said not to do anything.. but from what I've heard and pieced together, you haven't had the best birthdays." Jane shrugged, a smile on her face. It wasn't hard at all - just knowing when his birthday was and the fact he was back from boarding school with his abusive family was enough. "If you don't want it, that's fine, I don't mind really. I just want you to have a good day - maybe for the first time - so I wanted to give you everything that I know a birthday has."

Harry could've cried. She was just so sweet and caring and there was truly no one like her in the rest of the world. There couldn't be, nobody could be like her. 

"Of course I wanted it." Harry's head dropped as he looked down to the bag, opening the carefully taped top and peering inside. First a card, which had a tiny watercolour drawing of the two kittens he had met on his first trip at the Manor dancing around a cupcake - Jane had asked one of the people working on on the broken down bits of her home to do it for her, promising baked goods for him and all of his workers. 

Second, the pair of earrings that Harry had originally marvelled at which ended up with getting his ear pierced in a small mesh bag. A box of butterscotch sweets that Flora recommended that tasted exactly like Butterbeer, the folded up sheet of paper that held the sketch she had done of him - and it was incredible. 

But the final item in the bag had been hidden by the sheet of paper, and Harry's eyes widened as he pulled out the small, yellowing book. It was thin, it's cover thankfully old hardback and was made out of green material with flowers embroidered into it. 

"It's my favourite book of poems." Jane's cheeks were turning the slightest shade of pink. "I found another copy of it in the library and I... put a couple notes in it, underlined the lines which reminded me of you." 

Harry swallowed. It was all so thoughtful and well put together and so very Jane of her to do. He was only halfway through his summer and yet it had been the best month of his life. He thanked her profusely as he packed it away carefully, and as the last words of gratitude slipped from his lips he reached forward and hugged her, a little tighter than usual.

Jane had achieved her goal of trying to make it his best birthday, and it was only just after noon.

✧

a/n
if u dont know what butterfly
buns are or aren't british
just look it up xx