The After Life

Changing Status

"I'm not finished."

"Harry."

"Just a minute."

Harry hurried around with the dwindling taper. It was almost out. A wand and the incendio spell would have make this child's play. He wished the breeze from the window would die down. It was making this harder.

"Harry...can I look now?"

"Open those eyes and I'll hex them shut for a month."

"Really? You and who's wand?"

She had a point. "Please, just keep them closed a moment longer...there! All done. You can open your eyes now."

So she did. And she beamed at him.

"Oh, Harry, this is lovely."

"Happy birthday," said Harry. "Sorry. You don't know how hard it is to stick candles into a bunch of croissants. They aren't made for it."

Harry looked down sadly at the tray in front of him. Coffee, orange and pumpkin juice, freshly baked bread, pancakes and croissants. With candles in them. Candles that were already lilting mutinously. It wasn't as flawlessly crafted as Harry had pictured in his mind.

Hermione smiled at him warmly. "That doesn't matter, Harry. I wasn't expecting breakfast in bed! Thank you."

"Well, it is your birthday. Make a wish then."

"Only if you'll come and sit with me."

Hermione smiled again, and patted the bed next to her. Harry felt his insides shudder nervously. He did as he was told, trying his best to keep the tray steady. Hermione leaned over him and blew out the candles. There was always one stubborn one. It took a few puffs to put out. Harry was fixated by the pout of Hermione's lips.

"What did you wish for?" he asked.

"I can't tell you that," said Hermione, her eyes dark and sparkling. "It might not come true."

"But maybe I can help..."

"Then I definitely don't want to risk it."

They held a look a moment. Soft smoke rose from the remnants of the candles. Hermione looked so pretty in the pale morning light. Harry had to hold back from out and snuggling into her.

"Coffee?" she suddenly asked, her skin tinged pink.

"Hey, its your birthday," said Harry. "I'll be the one spoiling you."

"I'm sure I can manage coffee, Harry," said Hermione. "Three sugars, isn't it? Two white, one brown?"

Harry started. "Yeah...how do you know?"

"I...I'm not sure," said Hermione, frowning. "I...I just do. I must have made you coffee at breakfast or something before."

"No, I never let anyone do that, 'cause of my weird sugar thing."

"Yeah, what's that all about?"

"I like the taste of brown sugar, but I need white sugar for sweetness, too," Harry explained.

"But you're sweet enough, already," Hermione poked.

"Ha ha, just make the coffee, Birthday Girl."

They sat there a while, eating their way through Hermione's breakfast as she opened presents from her parents and grandparents. Her favourite was a small silver otter, with pearly white gems as eyes, on a fine silver bracelet that her mother had bought her. She twirled it in her fingers, admiring the craft work.