Ch. 2
Ch 2
Harry swears it wasn’t meant to happen this way. It was an accident. He was meant to do it just once, then he would come out fine, and he would never have to think of it again! Now. . . Some things are just not meant to be done.
. . . . .
“Ginny! Will you please stop laughing at me, and help me?” Harry asked for what felt like the millionth time, as Ginny laughed at him from the corner. “I-I’m s-s-so sor-ry Harry!” She managed to wheeze out through her giggles. “But- Just how?” She looked pointedly at the problem area. What is so funny? You might be thinking. The problem is, Harry got his hand stuck in a Pringles can. “Ginny! It’s not that funny!” Ginny wholeheartedly disagreed. She thought it was very funny, she was practically rolling on the ground. She had already taken 15 pictures.
With a heavy sigh, she rolled her eyes, stuck her phone back into her pocket, and reluctantly started to pry apart the can that kept his hand bound. Harry removed his hand with a flourish, and just for dramatic effect, shook his hand all around, moaning and groaning something about ‘inhumanity’ and ‘elder abuse’. “It’s not elder abuse if we're only a year apart, Harry.” Harry pouted, seeming to think otherwise. Ginny gave him a playful slap up the head. “Come on,” she said as she patted his shoulder, holding in more giggles, “Mum’s expecting us, she made your favourite.” Harry’s moaning came to a sudden stop as he side eyed her. “Treacle tart?” “Treacle tart.”
. . . . .
The lights were dark as they pulled out to the Weasley household. Harry looked up from his phone with one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “You said Mum’s expecting us?” Ginny’s eye gave a slight twitch. “Yup! Now let’s go!” Harry thought to himself that Ginny seemed strangely… excited? Almost… too excited. Ginny trotted up to the front door and Harry followed behind at a more sedate pace, slightly wary of what was waiting for him.
Coming inside, the house was silent. Which was strange, as The Burrow (The affectionate name given by the house's inhabitants) was usually full of hustle and bustle from the numerous family members that sometimes lived there. Harry warily gazed around the house, at the walls (A hole he accidentally put in kicking the football around, he was so scared they would give him awa--), the pictures (Harry isn’t seen in any until he’s twelve years old, when he was taken from th-), the coffee table (He accidentally pushed Ron into it once, that was the first time the Weasleys saw him cr-), the old couch, and the- wait. Harry noticed a strange shadow just around the edge of the couch. Suddenly, the lights flick on, and the entire Weasley clan, plus Ron and Harry’s best friends since age 11, Hermione, popped out of their respective hiding spots.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!” Harry gave them a confused look. “My birthday isn’t until next week.” He said slowly, as if they were exceptionally dense. Ginny rolled her eyes and approached her brother, arm in arm with Hermione. The two had formed a slightly unexpected romance in the months past that Molly Weasley swears she knew would happen. “We know, Harry, but usually, you’re so opposed to celebrating, we had to make sure you got a party!”. “Yeah, mate!” Ron walked up to him, “Just let us have this one! You’re twenty now! That’s big!” Harry gave a slight nod, remembering the huge party Ron had just last month. Molly approached him next, pinching his cheek, then enveloping him in a hug that was absolutely too strong for her small size. She was very, well, unproportionately strong. “My sweet boy is all grown up! My heart can’t take this!” HIs mum looked like she was going to cry, her eyes were shining with tears, and pride. He sighed, and finally agreed to just this one party. The family gave a cheer, and all his brothers, Ginny, and Hermione(accidentally) ended up dogpiling him in an attempted group hug.
Twenty minutes later saw the whole family squeezed around the dining room table, munching on cake, and looking at the head of the table where Harry was sitting. He was about to open his presents, and he did not look very happy about it. “Come on guys, the party was enough! You didn't need to do all of this!” The whole family waved him off and pushed their presents closer to him. The whole affair of present-opening passed with Bill and Charlie ruffling his hair, Percy occasionally commenting on how a present would be useful in his studies, the twins slipping fart cushions on the seat of people’s chairs every time they rose, (It’s an oldy, but a goody, what can they say?) Ron sitting next to him is a show of silent support, and Ginny and Hermione sat hand in hand at the end of the table, beaming at Ginny’s brother and Hermione’s as-good-as-a-brother as he received his gifts. The night was a sentimental and tear-filled affair, especially when it was time to say goodbyes.
Harry was riding on his high spirits the whole car ride home. He and Ginny got out of the car to climb the stairs to their shared apartment. When they moved out of the house, they decided to make things cheaper by sharing. It was definitely easier to room with someone you’ve already lived with your whole life, they supposed, and they were right. Harry and Ginny struggled up the stairs (“Harry we don’t have to make only one trip! We can go back!” “For glory!”), and finally, somehow got the key in the keyhole, and dropped all the presents on the couch, huffing out a huge sigh and shaking the feeling back into their arms. “See?” Harry panted out. “I told you we could do it in one trip.” Ginny rolled her eyes harder than she thought she had ever rolled them before. “Goodnight, Harry!” She called as she pivoted in place and walked to her room, completely done with Harry’s bullshit for the day. After Harry heard her door close, he looked at the pile on the couch in the same manner a king might survey his kingdom. “Worth it.” He whispered to himself, with a self-assured nod.
As he climbed into bed a few minutes later, he clumsily kicked off his shoes, socks, trousers, and pulled his shirt off his head, before completely collapsing and melting into his covers. He relaxed so deeply, he thought his bones had turned to jelly. Through his blurry vision and groggy thoughts, he realized that he should plug his phone in for the night, and he swung his hand around blindly before he found the power cord and completed his task.
…
Harry should have known he wouldn’t sleep well. It’s always like this when he’s reminded of his birthday. Even when it isn’t his birthday. For Harry, it’s just another reminder that he kept on living when his parents didn’t, and in two short years, he would be older than they were when they died. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn, so instead, he turned his thoughts toward his coffee. He had decided to go to a new spot, just around the corner. He gazed at the label on his cup of hot, black coffee. It was a bit odd, but not bad. A phoenix bursting into flame as a label, the name of the shop was just called The Order, so, yeah. A bit odd. The coffee was good though, Harry could admit. The barista was a girl with bright purple hair, and a nametag that just said Tonks, apparently it was her last name, (Can’t stand m’ first name, just call me Tonks.) but Harry didn’t mind at all. He thought it was unique. In fact, looking around the coffee shop, all the patrons were unique, but Harry wasn’t judging. This was why Harry liked going to new places, to see new people. Of course, it sometimes became awkward when someone recognized him. Harry had gained a small amount of fame through football, so he tried to keep a bit of a low profile, even though he didn’t need it most of the time.
As soon as Harry brought his cup to his lips once more, his phone lit up and started buzzing where it was set on the table. “What in the world?” Harry muttered to himself as he set down his coffee and picked up his phone. The number wasn’t saved, which was odd, because Harry didn’t give his number out to anyone except his close friends and family. He clicked the ‘answer’ button.
.
.
.
“Hello?”