"So you decided not to." Draco shrugged, but the motion looked a little stiff, to Harry.
"Short of using a time-turner, we couldn't celebrate on the right day," said Harry. "So I thought I'd stick to the day I knew about. I'm sure Dad has just the same idea in mind."
"Is that so, Severus?" Draco's eyes glittered. "Since presents might be involved I'm loath to say Dad, you'll notice."
"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" asked Snape.
"Sure," muttered Draco. Harry heard it, though, so no doubt their father did, as well.
Snape didn't let on. "Now, as it's quite late, I intend to seek my bed. I suggest that the two of you do the same."
Harry yawned, more as a way to keep Draco from saying more, than because he was really that tired. "Yeah, I'm knackered. Definitely, time for bed."
He was relieved when Draco merely turned on a heel and went into their bedroom.
Snape turned to look at him, a glimmer of a smile lurking in his dark eyes. "We'll celebrate again, tomorrow evening, as I said."
"Sounds good." Harry glanced behind him at the half-closed door, and lowered his voice to a whisper, stepping closer to his father as he spoke. "About Draco, though, I really think waiting any longer is probably cruel. I mean, I didn't think much about it before, but you probably did."
"I suggest you leave your brother and his birthday angst to me," answered Snape quietly. "Good night, Harry."
"'Night, Dad."
Draco started scoffing as soon as Harry came in and shut their door. "Waiting any longer is cruel, is it? How about skipping my birthday completely?"
"I wouldn't do that--"
"Dad would. Ha. In fact, Dad has. He's decided that the logical consequence for my aging myself like that is to miss the birthday I skipped over."
"Oh, he has not. He's just waiting until the right day, I'm sure."
Draco's gaze snapped up. "Did he say that to you?"
"No, but--"
"Well, I don't care," announced Draco, in a tone that said loud and clear that he cared a great deal. "Showing magic to Rhiannon was worth it, even if I miss the most important birthday I'll ever have. Not that it could be very important, anyway, seeing as I was disowned!"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Seventeen years . . . I should be inheriting family heirlooms, but that won't happen now, will it?"
"Oh." Harry finished changing for bed and slid between the sheets. What would his birthday have been like if his parents had lived? Would he have got some heirlooms tonight, or possibly tomorrow? Things passed down from Potters from generations back?
Not much point in wondering that, now.
"Good night, then," said Draco stiffly, sounding rather annoyed, still.
"Good night . . ." Harry yawned and wiggled his fingers a little, hissing the spell that would extinguish the lights. "But don't worry, Draco. Dad won't skip your birthday completely. I'm sure of it."
"Oh, he'd never do anything unpleasant to me," said Draco, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Like Venetimorica, for example? The man made me eat poison, and you think he'd be reluctant to use my birthday to make a point?"
"He didn't make you, really. He persuaded you that it was the best thing to do."
"Like he'll be persuading you, in a few days, to shelve whatever you might have got me," muttered Draco.
Something Marsha had said sparked to life in Harry's memory, then. "I think you must be feeling guilty, eh? You were thinking only of yourself when you used that potion, but now, I think you're realising that you hurt Dad, and you feel bad about it."
"Please. I didn't hurt him."
"Oh, like Slytherins will always show you when you have? Not what you told me, is it?"
"Harry . . ." Draco sighed. "I wouldn't change what I did. Rhiannon was worth it. I wanted her to know I was a wizard. At the time I felt like I couldn't wait ten more seconds, though looking back . . . I suppose I could have put it off until I came of age the usual way."
Harry yawned and nodded, though in the dark, Draco couldn't possibly have seen it.
"But I don't feel guilty," added Draco quickly. "Not a whit."
Sure, thought Harry, but he didn't fool himself that there was much point in arguing about it. "Yeah, well . . . think about talking to Dad, anyway."
"To say what?" asked Draco in a lofty voice. "That I'm sorry? That I know I hurt him?"
"Maybe just that you didn't mean to."
The bedclothes rustled as Draco turned to face the wall, his voice a bit muffled, like he was burrowing into his blankets. "Oh, grow up, why don't you?"
But I have, thought Harry. I'm seventeen now. All grown-up . . . but not too old to need a father.
He actually couldn't imagine being that old, ever. And that was strange, wasn't it? Not so very long ago, he hadn't been able to imagine having a father, at all.
Or a brother. "Good night, Draco," murmured Harry into the dark. "And thanks again for the presents. They really were brilliant. Especially the last one."
The other boy's answer was a long while in coming. "Well, you'll need it, won't you? You may be half-Gryffindor, but you are my brother, so I suppose I wouldn't want to humiliate you too thoroughly every time our houses compete."
"Very good of you to think of it," said Harry, holding in his laughter. He felt a little less amused when he remembered that bit about pureblood customs dictating three gifts from a brother. A slight twinge of annoyance tickled his spine as he realised that his father really could have let him know. Well, nothing for it; he'd have to figure out a couple more presents.
Little did Harry know it, but all too soon, gifts and celebrations and birthdays would be the very least of his worries.
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Coming Soon in A Summer Like None Other:
Chapter 23: "July 31, 1997"
Comments very welcome,
Aspen in the Sunlight and Mercredi
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Chapter 23: July 31, 1997
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=13093&chapter=23
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A Summer Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Twenty-Three:
July 31, 1997
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The light looked odd the next morning when Harry sat up in bed. Frowning, he almost flicked his hand to cast Tempus, but at the last moment realised that he didn't want to fall into bad habits, so he grabbed his wand off the night table.
An image of a clock flew out the end of his fingers to hover in the air. For a moment, Harry just stared at it. Then, shaking his head, he rolled out of bed and padded off to have a shower, but all the while, he was really wondering only one thing:
Why had his father let him laze about in bed until nearly eleven?
It was well past eleven by the time he made it out into the living room, and then, it was to find that his father and brother had obviously had breakfast without him, since there was a plate of bangers and toast waiting on the table, the haze around it hinting at a lingering warming charm.
"What's going on?" Harry erupted, crossing his arms.
Draco looked up from the magazine he'd been reading. The Economist. He'd started borrowing Muggle magazines from the stacks at Marsha's office, but more often than not, he complained they didn't make any sense to him. "Well, well. Look who's finally awake. I was starting to think you'd sleep all day."