Wishes by ChocolateFrogsForBreakfast

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 23/11/2004
Last Updated: 23/11/2004
Status: Completed

Harry has a surprise visitor on his birthday. One shot. Fluffity-fluff!




1. Wishes
---------



**Wishes**

**Rating:** PG

**Pairing:** Harry/Hermione

**Length:** 3,240

**Summary:** Harry has a surprise visitor for his sixteenth birthday. Fluffity fluff.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize obviously isn't mine…

Harry was spending the night of July 30th as he usually did—awake and waiting. He
looked at the clock on his bedside table; six more minutes to go. As Harry lay in his bed, he
wondered what this year of his life would bring. At the moment, he had little hope that it would be
much better than the last.

Dealing with the loss of Sirius was still day-by-day for him, and, he knew without a doubt, that
his nightmares of that terrible night at the Ministry would continue. The Wizarding World had
stopped believing that he was an attention-seeking nutter, but that was little consolation. So…he
was their hero again. Harry gave a quiet snort. No doubt, something else would turn them against
him again soon.

Harry had experienced the fickleness of this world before, in his second year, with most of the
Hogwarts student population believing he was the heir of Slytherin setting the basilisk on
Muggleborns. Then, again, in his fourth year, when no one believed that he hadn't entered
himself in the Triwizard Tournament. Well, no one but Hermione, and some of the teachers. Harry
smiled as he remembered all the hard work Hermione and he had put into learning the spells he had
needed. She always seemed to make sure he had what he needed…from homework, to food, and the spell
that had helped him escape Voldemort in the graveyard.

Voldemort…last year had been nothing short of hellish. Harry traced the faint scars on his right
hand. *I must not tell lies.* All the frightened and pitying looks he'd endured as people
questioned his sanity. The anger and fear that had ruled his thoughts and actions. He went over the
fiasco with Cho in his head. Had she ever really felt anything for him, or had she simply been
using him as a substitute for Cedric? He glanced at his Firebolt resting against the far corner,
his hands balling briefly into fists as he remembered day when Quidditch had been taken away from
him. Then that night…the night everything had gone wrong. Harry quickly shook his head, trying to
loosen those thoughts from his mind as his hands gripped his blanket tightly.

Harry tried to force his mind to remember a few bright spots from the past year, but even those
had difficult memories attached to them. Finally getting to be with his friends at Grimmauld Place
last summer, and the result of the hearing. Watching with pride when his fellow students learned as
he taught them what he knew in the D. A. meetings; the D.A. meetings that had eventually caused
Dumbledore to leave Hogwarts. The painful interview with Rita Skeeter that began to turn the tide
of people's wrongful perception of him. The group of people gathered at King's Cross
Station to show their support for him as he had to go back to the Dursley's.

Harry glanced back over at the clock. Less than five seconds to go. There…midnight. *`Happy
Birthday to me,'* Harry thought wryly. He doubted the Dursleys would acknowledge this day as
any more special than yesterday. He got up and walked to his window, looking down at Privet Drive.
Uncle Vernon had removed the bars at some point in the past year. Maybe Mad-Eye or Lupin had made
him do that? He wondered if, even now, one of The Order was lurking somewhere along the pavement
and resisted the urge to wave into the darkness.

Sighing, he leaned on the window sill and looked at the full moon that was bathing his bedroom
in silvery light. `*I hope Remus is okay,'* Harry thought, casting his eyes down.
`*Wonder what Hermione and Ron are doing…wonder if t**hey're together again while
I'm stuck here by myself**…'* Harry felt his insides clench as he envisioned the
pair of them enjoying themselves at The Burrow. Harry was unaware that he was grinding his teeth
as, in his mind's eye, he saw Hermione laughing at something Ron had said, and then putting her
hand on his arm still smiling as she—

*Bang!* Harry's eyes snapped up to see what was unmistakably the Knight Bus rolling to
a stop in front of Number 4. He opened his window and leaned forward just a bit. Was someone coming
to visit Mrs. Figg? Just then, an obviously female silhouette appeared in the bus' doorway
carrying something in one hand. She stepped lightly to the ground with a backward wave. The Knight
Bus rolled down the road a bit then disappeared with another *Bang!*

The person who had just gotten off walked a few feet in the shadows of the trees, gazing around
her as though looking at the house numbers. Then, she walked under one of the streetlamps and
turned her eyes to Number Four. It couldn't be…but then, his heart leapt in his chest.
*Hermione!* She looked up, waving as she saw him, and Harry saw that she was carrying a basket
on her arm. He stood there dumbfounded, but with a large grin growing on his face, as she walked to
the grass under his window.

“Well,” Hermione said in a stage whisper, grinning up at him, “Are you going to let me in, or
not?”

“Oh!” Harry finally came to himself. He turned quickly from his window and quietly made his way
down the stairs. He was careful not to tread on the squeaky one as he neared the landing by the
door. Fortunately, with the full moon, there was enough light that he could see his path well.

Harry painstakingly turned the locks and opened the door as noiselessly as he could. He had the
odd feeling that he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Hermione was standing on the porch,
her lips still spread in a grin. Harry shook his head in disbelief and grinned back. Then, putting
a finger to his lips, he motioned her to come in. After he had closed and relocked the door, he
motioned again for her to follow him, making sure that she skipped the noisy step just as he had.
Finally, they made it to his room.

Harry let Hermione go in first, then listened for any noises from the Dursley's before
pushing his door softly shut and turning the lock. He turned around to Hermione, who had set the
basket down on the floor beside her. She enveloped him in a hug and whispered joyfully, “Happy
Birthday, Harry.” He returned the hug for a bit, and couldn't help but be aware of her body
fitted snugly against his. “Thanks,” he replied softly, finally releasing her. “What in the world
are you doing here?”

“I-I kind of snuck out. I hope you don't mind,” Hermione said, sounding a bit nervous
now.

“You *what*?” Harry said incredulously.

“Well, I couldn't miss your sixteenth birthday,” she replied, with tilt of her head. The
moonlight shone softly on her face and glinted in her hair. “I had a feeling the Dursley's
wouldn't throw a party for you so I decided to bring a little celebration myself.”

Hermione bent down to get the basket, carried it over to his bed then sat down and reached
inside. First, she pulled a quilt from it and spread it on the floor. Next came a box, which she
set down on the quilt and then she produced some plates, silverware, napkins and finally, some soft
drink bottles.

Looking back into Harry's astonished eyes, she asked, “Would you like to open your present
now or later?”

“Now, I guess,” he replied, wondering what else was in the basket.

Hermione nodded and smiled. “I thought so.” She pulled a nicely wrapped package out of the
basket, and slid down to the quilt, patting the space beside her. Harry smiled back and lowered
himself quietly to the floor next to Hermione. He took the present and card she held out to him and
began to open the envelope first. The card was simple and Harry could tell that Hermione had made
it herself. The front of the card was adorned by a large 16 and on the inside, it read, *“Happy
birthday to one of my favorite guys! With love, Hermione.”*

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling up at her. He wondered briefly why his face was so warm, but then
turned his attention to the present.

Harry removed the ribbon and paper and lifted the lid off the box to find two small identical
mirrors. He became absolutely still, staring at them.

“They're to use to communicate,” Hermione said brightly. “See, you give one to someone else,
and when they want to talk with you, they just say your name and--Harry…is something wrong?” Her
voice changed quickly from excited to hesitant.

Harry shook his head and swallowed. “No, they're really great. Thanks, Hermione.” He looked
up into her worried eyes, and tried to smile as reassuringly as he could.

“Please don't lie to me,” Hermione said quietly, her shoulders drooping just a bit.

In answer, Harry gently placed the package on the quilt and stood up. He walked over to his
school trunk, opened it, and reached to the bottom. His fingers felt around carefully for the sharp
broken shards. After he had found them all, he took them and sat back down, laying them out
gingerly on the quilt. He rebuilt the mirror like a puzzle, only face down. When he had finished,
he motioned for Hermione to look. In the moonlight, she was able to make out Sirius' message
and Harry heard her take a sharp breath.

“I had that the whole time,” Harry said, not meeting Hermione's eyes. “Sirius gave it to me
right before we left Grimmauld Place after Christmas. Said I could use it if I ever needed him. And
I forgot about it.” He was working hard to control the trembling in his voice. “There was never any
need to use Umbridge's fire—either time. I had what I needed to talk to Sirius; it was with me
the entire time and I never realized. After he…one night after, I tried to use it and of course it
didn't work. That's when I broke it.”

“I'm so sorry Harry,” Hermione's voice was filled with tears and Harry quickly looked up
as she went on, “I-I didn't know.”

“Hermione, please don't cry—`course you didn't know.” Harry moved over to her and put an
arm around her shoulders. “And it is a really great present…so, thanks. I'm sorry I reacted
like that. Just surprised me, is all.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and Hermione nodded and
leaned into him, still snuffling just a little.

“So,” Harry cast around for a change of subject. “What's in this box?” He pointed to the
first box that Hermione had taken out of the basket.

Hermione hitched up a smile and answered, “It's your cake.”

“Well, let's have a look.” Harry slipped his arm around from her shoulders and waited.

Hermione leaned forward and lifted the lid to reveal a small chocolate cake adorned with a
Snitch made from gold and silver frosting. **Happy 16****th** **Birthday,
Harry****,** was written in gold icing under the Snitch.

“Wow!” Harry turned to Hermione. “I think that's the best cake I've ever seen.”

“Really?”

Harry nodded emphatically. “Really.”

Pleased, Hermione dug around in the basket once more and brought out candles and some matches.
She quickly placed the candles on the cake and began to light them.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?” asked Harry, confusedly.

“Your wish—you've got to make a wish and blow out all the candles for it to come true, you
know.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry thought for a moment. His first thought was of Sirius, but he wasn't going
to waste a wish on something that couldn't come true. But what, then? Harry looked up into his
friend's eyes. Her face was bathed in golden light and the flickers from the candles danced
merrily in her eyes. Her lovely, deep brown eyes that still had a few tears clinging in her lashes.
Harry blinked, realized he was staring, then quickly took a breath and blew all the candles out.
The room was washed in silver once more.

“Oh, good! Your wish will come true, then. Ready for a piece?” she asked, smiling softly.

“Definitely.” He said, trying to hold his voice steady as he could, not wanting to let on how he
was really feeling. “Looks delicious.”

He couldn't believe what he had wished. It hadn't been a coherent thought, really. It
had been more of a vision—a dream. He had seen himself touching his lips to Hermione's, and
imagining it again made his insides uncomfortably fluttery.

He took the slice of cake she offered, grateful for something to do to take his mind off the odd
thoughts his impulsive wish had caused. Hermione handed him a fork and then held out a bottle of
soda to him.

“Mmm, thanks,” Harry said, putting a bite of cake in his mouth. “Wow, this is really good,” He
said through a mouthful of cake. “Did you make this yourself?”

Hermione laughed softly and nodded, adding, “My mum helped me with the frosting, though,” as she
put a piece of cake in her mouth.

Harry watched, in spite of himself, as she licked some chocolate from her lips. He was finding
it just a bit hard to breathe for some reason.

“Something wrong, Harry?”

“*No*…I mean…no,” Harry said awkwardly, suddenly feeling a lot warmer than he just had.

Hermione looked at him with a bemused expression on her face, but said nothing.

When both had finished eating, Hermione took the dishes, wrapping them in a cloth along with the
soiled silverware and put them carefully back into her basket along with the other picnic things
she had brought. Harry closed the lid on the box that held his birthday cake, and then showed
Hermione the loose floorboard as he put the box away for safe-keeping until he got hungry.

Hermione stood up and put her basket on her arm, surveying the room and checking for anything
she might be inadvertently leaving behind. Seeing nothing she had missed, she looked to Harry
saying, “Well, I'd best get home before someone notices that I'm gone.”

Harry nodded, but as he watched her prepare to leave, a sinking feeling was beginning to empty
him of the happiness he had felt for the last hour. “Hang on!” A thought had just popped into his
head. He turned and reached for one of the mirrors that Hermione had given him, and suddenly
realized that she had provided him with what he needed most once again—a way not to be alone.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding a shiny mirror out to her, as an unfamiliar feeling began to
grow within him. “You take this with you.”

“Me?” Hermione said, with some amount of surprise at the offering. “But what about Ron? I
thought sure you'd want him to have it.”

Harry shook his head and he continued to hold the mirror. “I'm giving it to you. You will
use it…won't you?”

“Only if you'll use yours,” Hermione said, a smile growing on her face as Harry nodded.
“Well, then, I really need to go.”

“I'll walk you down,” Harry whispered. “Follow me, and mind that noisy step like
before.”

Hermione nodded, and they stole down the stairs and out the door as quietly as they could. Harry
walked with Hermione all the way to the pavement.

“Well, happy birthday, Harry.” Hermione lifted her face close to his and gave him a soft kiss on
his cheek.

As her warm lips caressed his face, he saw again the vision he'd had when he blew out his
candles. She turned from him, preparing to summon the Knight Bus, but Harry's hand caught hers
before she could bring her wand parallel to the ground. He saw her look questioningly at him as her
eyes widened just a bit. Then she turned back to him and smiled. It was a smile he'd not seen
before, and he unconsciously returned it.

Harry narrowed the gap between them with a small step and swallowed nervously. He watched her
eyes watching his as he drew nearer to her. Harry saw her eyes flutter closed as he leaned down to
join his lips with hers. He knew he had never felt anything softer as he gently caressed her lips
with his. What had begun as something sweetly impulsive, quickly turned into a thing of need and
they clung to each other. Harry didn't know how long they kissed, but he was sure he would be
happy to spend the rest of his life right there on that small section of pavement with Hermione.
When their kisses had ended, they drew apart just a bit and but Harry kept Hermione's hand in
his. Harry's lopsided grin matched Hermione's dreamy smile.

“Well…” Hermione tried to begin, but apparently couldn't form a coherent thought.

“Yes, well…” Harry seemed to be in the same predicament.

Hermione giggled softly, whispering. “You know, I'd always imagined myself being a bit more
eloquent than this after we kissed for the first time.”

Still befuddled, Harry nodded and smiled again. “Yes, well—wait a moment…you've imagined
this?”

Hermione nodded, squeezing his hand gently. “And it turned out so much better than I'd ever
imagined.”

“I'm glad…because I thought it was pretty great, too.” He pulled her back to him and slid
his arms around her as he whispered, “You know, that was the first time I've ever properly
kissed anyone.”

Hermione pulled back a bit in Harry's arms to look at him in surprise. “What about Cho?”

Harry shook his head. “I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. And I certainly didn't enjoy it
like I enjoyed this one.”

Hermione smiled softly, saying, “It was my first, too,” and then she leaned against him once
more.

They embraced for a long moment in the darkness, just enjoying the feeling of holding one
another close.

Hermione finally pulled back again, and Harry reluctantly let her go this time, as she said, “I
really must be going. I don't want to worry my parents.”

Harry nodded and said, “Thanks again for coming, Hermione. This is the best birthday I've
ever had.”

Hermione quickly kissed him one last time. “You're quite welcome.”

“Talk with you soon?” Harry asked, his eyes searching hers.

“Very soon,” Hermione promised, returning his gaze.

Harry nodded and Hermione stuck out her wand. Bang! The Knight Bus rolled to a stop in front of
them. The doors swung open and Stan Shunpike stepped smartly out. “Welcome to th' Knight
Bus—oh, it's you again,” he said as he saw Hermione. “Y'don't want t'hear me speech
again, d'ya?” Stan asked hopefully.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. She turned to hug Harry one more time and then stepped onto
the bus.

Stan had just gotten a good look at Harry. “Hey, Ern'! It's Ha—”

Stan looked crestfallen when Harry cut him off with a vigorous shake of his head as he stepped
back from the curb. Harry watched Hermione find a seat and, with a wave and another bang!, she and
the bus had disappeared.

Harry stood looking at the place where the bus had just been for a moment before starting back
to Number four. As he turned toward the house, he smiled and then began to whistle very softly. If
he hadn't been whistling, he might have heard the voice of a cloak-covered female with
chartreuse-colored hair whisper happily from beside the garden wall, “Happy birthday, Harry.
You've just given yourself the best present of all.”

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