Book 1: Nepenthe
Book 2: Halcyon
Book 3 : Selcouth
Magic has always played an intricate role in the life of Harry Potter. He is the Boy Who Lived, a title hovering his head since the time he was one year old, marked by a lightning bolt scar. He lear...
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As midnight approached, Harry found himself wide awake, counting down the minutes and seconds to his eleventh birthday. And while his mind was quite active with thoughts and anticipation, his body was quite exhausted as he remained completely still in his own bed. Most of the day, he, Ron, and Huxley had spent it in Neville's company for his birthday. However, rather than having a day of celebration, Neville opted to visit St Mungo's to visit his parents in the Janus Thickey Ward. Neville told them that they didn't have to accompany him, as if that was going to stop them.
However, while it wasn't Harry's first-time visiting Alice and Frank Longbottom with Neville, it was the first time where he realised just how lucky he was. To think he had been down and out about discovering Renata not being his biological mother, he found himself completely humbled when he saw what Neville had to struggle with. To see in person that Alice didn't recognise her own son, that Frank walked by Neville without even acknowledging him.
And to wrap it all up, Harry had overheard what Neville wished for every year when he was blowing out the candles of his birthday cake. Under his breath, Neville just wished that his parents would remember who he was, enough to just say his name. He wasn't the only one who had overheard, Huxley and Ron had heard it too as they had all been standing the closest with him at the time. They exchanged looks but said nothing, knowing that Neville would just shrug it off and claim that he was fine.
But it made Harry glad to know that Neville would be sharing in part of the celebration at the Potter Cottage later.
Harry didn't mind sharing his day at all, just as long as everyone was happy. After all, everyone had been hyping up his birthday since his Hogwarts letter arrived. And Harry found himself unable to sleep, knowing that in just several hours, he would be on his way to Diagon Alley with his family to collect his school supplies.
Thirty seconds to go...twenty...
He wondered if he was going to feel any different once he turned eleven years old. He never did feel any different on other birthdays, with the exception of maybe feeling more excited but eleven years old was quite the milestone in the wizarding world, at least in his mind.
As soon as midnight hit, Harry remained quiet and still, as if he was waiting for something to take place. And just a few seconds later, he jumped when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his bedroom door. He didn't know what to make of it, quickly voting to close his eyes and pretend that he was asleep.
"Oh, James, let him sleep," Renata's voice rang out softly, allowing Harry to relax instantly, " he's going to need his rest."
"I know, I know," James said, " I just wanted to be the first to wish him a happy birthday. Ilaria always beats everyone to it. But I figured out the way to beat her, using her bedtime against her."
"How brilliantly immature of you."
Harry had to fight back his smile as his parents bickered back and forth over his father's tactics against Ilaria. He kept his eyes closed, hearing both of his parents approach his bedside and one by one, they leaned in and kissed his forehead. Both of them wishing him a happy birthday, although James definitely made it a point to say it first.
