lizbee | Birthday ficlets! For people too fictional to appreciate them!

Happy Returns

Harry looked up from the parchment before him, and was only mildly surprised to find Snape looming over his desk.

"Morning," he said.

"I thought you might be interested to know," said Snape, "that the school ghosts are planning a--" his lips thinned -- "surprise party. To welcome you back to the school and celebrate your birthday."

Harry signed his name at the bottom of the letter, and indulged himself in a moment of pleasure at the sight of the words across the top of the page: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster: Harry Potter (Order of Merlin, first class).

When he sensed that he'd pushed Snape's patience far enough, he looked up again, but found himself looking past Snape, at Dumbledore's portrait. Albus winked at him. Harry grinned.

"I suppose," he said, "that Peeves is planning a surprise of his own?"

"Involving a certain quantity of ectoplasm and a rusted cauldron, yes."

"I do like to see a bit of innovation now and then." Harry stood up. "Still, I'm afraid the ghosts will have to postpone their party. I have an urgent appointment with some grandchildren and a very large cake." He moved towards the door, followed closely by Snape. "And no offence, Professor..." Snape gave him a look closely calculated to imply that Harry's continued existence on this or any other plane was a deep personal insult, but he, Snape, was attempting to cope. Harry ignored it, and continued, "but I've never really developed a taste for ghostly food."

"Few mortals do."

In what he considered an heroic attempt at civility, Harry said, "So, how've you been keeping?"

"As well as can be expected, Headmaster."

"I was surprised to hear you'd returned."

"Where else would I go?" Snape asked rhetorically. "Everyone comes back to Hogwarts eventually."

Harry chuckled, and an awkward silence fell as he cast about for some suitably neutral conversation topic. What he found was neither neutral nor suitable, but it somehow slipped out anyway: "So. Do much for your Deathday Party this year? Fiftieth anniversary and all..."

"No. It always gets lost in the other celebrations."

"Oh, right. That whole, um..."

"Defeat of Voldemort, yes."

"If I could have held off for a couple of hours..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter."

Still, Harry thought Snape was secretly pleased at the notion; it put a bit more bounce in his float, and he barely even grimaced when the Fat Friar trapped them in a conversation. It wasn't quite the working relationship he'd hoped to have with the ghosts -- you'd never have caught the Bloody Baron calling Dumbledore ridiculous, although he probably thought it quite often -- but it would do.

And in any case, his immediate future held cake and grandchildren. He could put up with a lot, for cake and grandchildren.