A Mother's Love
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
8
Views:
50,359
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
8
Views:
50,359
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Happy Birthday, Harry
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!”
Harry jerked awake. “Wha--” he slurred, glaring at Hermione, who stood by his bed, beaming, completely ignoring his look of death. “Hermione,” he growled, “why are you waking me at...” he squinted at the clock on the bedside table, “seven in the morning! Aaugh!” He fell back onto the bed and pulled the quilt over his head.
Hermione just laughed. “Get up, silly boy. We have a big day ahead. We're going to Diagon Alley.”
“What for?” Harry grouched.
“Oh, no reason, just picking up our school supplies a bit early” she said flippantly, straightening the edge of the quilt and avoiding his eyes.
Harry sensed she was lying, but he knew Hermione well enough to know that he would never get any information out of her that she did not wish to give him. He sighed and waved her away. “Get out then so I can get dressed.”
“Aww, I don't get to watch?” she teased, lifting the edge of the quilt and peering underneath. Harry snatched it away before she could reveal that he was experiencing his usual morning erection. That was one thing he definitely didn't want her to see!
Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Harry's prudery. “I'll let you get dressed in peace, but hurry up!”
It took two more wake-up calls and a threat of being dragged downstairs in the nude by Hermione before Harry managed to drag himself out of the bed and pull on some clothes. He stumbled into the kitchen, scowling at everyone present, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Hermione sighed at the sight of him and immediately began rebuttoning his misbuttoned shirt. “Get off,” Harry grouched, smacking her hands away. “So will somebody please tell me what's going on?” He looked around at the assembled group, a sea of red heads and one brunette.
“I already told you,” Hermione said, smothering a grin, “We're going to Diagon Alley to buy our schoolbooks.”
“Fine,” he said, glaring around at the smirks, “don't tell me. But don't expect me to cooperate with whatever it is you lot have planned.”
By the time he'd finished his second cup of coffee, Harry's mood had improved considerably and he was desperate to know what was going on. He knew that Hermione and Ron would never tell him what was going on, so he set to work persuading Ginny to give him a hint. He knew she'd had a crush on him for years and used that to his advantage. “C'mon, you know you want to tell me,” he cajoled, capturing her arm and pulling her away from the group as they trekked towards Ottery St. Catchpole. They were catching the Knight Bus there to save the expense of Floo Powder. It had gotten more costly since the Ministry of Magic had increased security precautions and imposed limitations on production.
A smile played across her lips. She was obviously enjoying the attention. “Ron will kill me,” she whispered, trying half-heartedly to pull her arm away.
“I promise not to tell,” he whispered back, his hand sliding the length of her arm to take her hand.
Ginny blushed. “If you swear not to tell, I'll give you a hint,” she said with false reluctance. “We're going to Fred and George's flat. And that's all I'm going to tell you!”
Harry grinned. That was all he needed. They must have planned a party for him. It was his first birthday party ever. “Thanks, Ginny.” Impulsively, he pecked her on the cheek before running forward to catch up to Ron and Hermione, missing entirely the enraptured expression on Ginny's face as she touched her cheek reverently in the spot where he had kissed her.
It seemed to take ages to arrive at the pub, after jostling for seats on the Knight Bus, enduring the ride to Diagon Alley whilst attempting to keep down his breakfast, and walking from the Leaky Cauldron to the far end of the alley where Fred and George's shop was located.
They finally arrived around ten in the morning. Molly made a big production of insisting they they simply must stop by Fred and George's flat while they were in town. “It would simply be rude!” she cried, pulling Harry by the hand up the outdoor staircase on the back of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes building and pounding overly loudly on the nauseatingly green door with a purple W painted on it. There was no answer.
“Hmm, I wonder if they're home,” Molly said, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Harry heard snickers behind him and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “We'll just leave a note so they know we popped in.” She opened the door and gestured for him to go on in.
“SURPRISE!”
He was expecting it, but he still jumped when the lights flashed on and a multitude of voices cried out around him. He smiled ear to ear, looking from face to face. Fred, George, Seamus, Neville, Luna, Hagrid, even - “Professor Dumbledore! I'm so glad to see you!”
“Many happy returns, Harry.” The wizened old wizard smiled beatifically down at the boy and shook his hand firmly.
Harry's eyes filled with tears of joy as he looked around at the faces of the people who loved him. His face hurt from grinning. “I can't even say how grateful I am. I love you all so much.”
Ron slapped him on the back. “Enough of the waterworks,” he said affectionately, holding a cake up for Harry to blow out the candles. “Let's hear it for Harry!” He led the group in a riotous round of “For He's a Jolly Good Fellow” until a slice of cake was passed his way and his singing was abruptly ended in favor of food.
No sooner had the cake been devoured when Molly announced “Presents!” and passed him the first package. He received a sleuth kit from the twins, a hand-knit sweater from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, an autograph book from Seamus, a journal from Hermione, a vial of Murtlap Essence from Hagrid, a Chudley Cannons t-shirt from Ron, a self-correcting quill from Neville, a charm that Luna insisted would keep Nargles away, and – his favorite – a pocket watch from Professor Dumbledore.
The party lasted for hours, with games, songs, and a seemingly unending supply of food and drink. Mr. Weasley had even managed to procure a Muggle film projector and a battery. After Harry helped him set it up (he kept trying to feed the film into the plug receptors), they watched an American film called The Craft. It wasn't meant to be a comedy, but they couldn't stop laughing at the Muggle portrayal of magic.
After the film, the party started to disperse. Harry warmly thanked each person for attending. He kept smiling to himself as he joined the Weasley clan as they trekked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. Molly noticed his repeated, secretive little smiles and dropped back to walk beside him. “What do you keep smiling about?” she asked kindly.
“Oh, nothing,” he said with a soft sigh of contentment. “This has just been the best birthday I've ever had.”
Harry jerked awake. “Wha--” he slurred, glaring at Hermione, who stood by his bed, beaming, completely ignoring his look of death. “Hermione,” he growled, “why are you waking me at...” he squinted at the clock on the bedside table, “seven in the morning! Aaugh!” He fell back onto the bed and pulled the quilt over his head.
Hermione just laughed. “Get up, silly boy. We have a big day ahead. We're going to Diagon Alley.”
“What for?” Harry grouched.
“Oh, no reason, just picking up our school supplies a bit early” she said flippantly, straightening the edge of the quilt and avoiding his eyes.
Harry sensed she was lying, but he knew Hermione well enough to know that he would never get any information out of her that she did not wish to give him. He sighed and waved her away. “Get out then so I can get dressed.”
“Aww, I don't get to watch?” she teased, lifting the edge of the quilt and peering underneath. Harry snatched it away before she could reveal that he was experiencing his usual morning erection. That was one thing he definitely didn't want her to see!
Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Harry's prudery. “I'll let you get dressed in peace, but hurry up!”
It took two more wake-up calls and a threat of being dragged downstairs in the nude by Hermione before Harry managed to drag himself out of the bed and pull on some clothes. He stumbled into the kitchen, scowling at everyone present, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Hermione sighed at the sight of him and immediately began rebuttoning his misbuttoned shirt. “Get off,” Harry grouched, smacking her hands away. “So will somebody please tell me what's going on?” He looked around at the assembled group, a sea of red heads and one brunette.
“I already told you,” Hermione said, smothering a grin, “We're going to Diagon Alley to buy our schoolbooks.”
“Fine,” he said, glaring around at the smirks, “don't tell me. But don't expect me to cooperate with whatever it is you lot have planned.”
By the time he'd finished his second cup of coffee, Harry's mood had improved considerably and he was desperate to know what was going on. He knew that Hermione and Ron would never tell him what was going on, so he set to work persuading Ginny to give him a hint. He knew she'd had a crush on him for years and used that to his advantage. “C'mon, you know you want to tell me,” he cajoled, capturing her arm and pulling her away from the group as they trekked towards Ottery St. Catchpole. They were catching the Knight Bus there to save the expense of Floo Powder. It had gotten more costly since the Ministry of Magic had increased security precautions and imposed limitations on production.
A smile played across her lips. She was obviously enjoying the attention. “Ron will kill me,” she whispered, trying half-heartedly to pull her arm away.
“I promise not to tell,” he whispered back, his hand sliding the length of her arm to take her hand.
Ginny blushed. “If you swear not to tell, I'll give you a hint,” she said with false reluctance. “We're going to Fred and George's flat. And that's all I'm going to tell you!”
Harry grinned. That was all he needed. They must have planned a party for him. It was his first birthday party ever. “Thanks, Ginny.” Impulsively, he pecked her on the cheek before running forward to catch up to Ron and Hermione, missing entirely the enraptured expression on Ginny's face as she touched her cheek reverently in the spot where he had kissed her.
It seemed to take ages to arrive at the pub, after jostling for seats on the Knight Bus, enduring the ride to Diagon Alley whilst attempting to keep down his breakfast, and walking from the Leaky Cauldron to the far end of the alley where Fred and George's shop was located.
They finally arrived around ten in the morning. Molly made a big production of insisting they they simply must stop by Fred and George's flat while they were in town. “It would simply be rude!” she cried, pulling Harry by the hand up the outdoor staircase on the back of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes building and pounding overly loudly on the nauseatingly green door with a purple W painted on it. There was no answer.
“Hmm, I wonder if they're home,” Molly said, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. Harry heard snickers behind him and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “We'll just leave a note so they know we popped in.” She opened the door and gestured for him to go on in.
“SURPRISE!”
He was expecting it, but he still jumped when the lights flashed on and a multitude of voices cried out around him. He smiled ear to ear, looking from face to face. Fred, George, Seamus, Neville, Luna, Hagrid, even - “Professor Dumbledore! I'm so glad to see you!”
“Many happy returns, Harry.” The wizened old wizard smiled beatifically down at the boy and shook his hand firmly.
Harry's eyes filled with tears of joy as he looked around at the faces of the people who loved him. His face hurt from grinning. “I can't even say how grateful I am. I love you all so much.”
Ron slapped him on the back. “Enough of the waterworks,” he said affectionately, holding a cake up for Harry to blow out the candles. “Let's hear it for Harry!” He led the group in a riotous round of “For He's a Jolly Good Fellow” until a slice of cake was passed his way and his singing was abruptly ended in favor of food.
No sooner had the cake been devoured when Molly announced “Presents!” and passed him the first package. He received a sleuth kit from the twins, a hand-knit sweater from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, an autograph book from Seamus, a journal from Hermione, a vial of Murtlap Essence from Hagrid, a Chudley Cannons t-shirt from Ron, a self-correcting quill from Neville, a charm that Luna insisted would keep Nargles away, and – his favorite – a pocket watch from Professor Dumbledore.
The party lasted for hours, with games, songs, and a seemingly unending supply of food and drink. Mr. Weasley had even managed to procure a Muggle film projector and a battery. After Harry helped him set it up (he kept trying to feed the film into the plug receptors), they watched an American film called The Craft. It wasn't meant to be a comedy, but they couldn't stop laughing at the Muggle portrayal of magic.
After the film, the party started to disperse. Harry warmly thanked each person for attending. He kept smiling to himself as he joined the Weasley clan as they trekked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. Molly noticed his repeated, secretive little smiles and dropped back to walk beside him. “What do you keep smiling about?” she asked kindly.
“Oh, nothing,” he said with a soft sigh of contentment. “This has just been the best birthday I've ever had.”