It was his birthday! He had been twelve for a whole night and morning without realizing it. He looked down at the candle in the toast and shut his eyes.

Make a wish, choose a wish, think of the best wish he could.

Opening his eyes, Harry leaned forward to blow the candle out.

"What did you wish for?" Snape growled as he went back to the stove.

"Huh-uh," Harry shook his head, "it won't come true if I say."

Snape brought a bowl of porridge to the table and slapped it down in front of Harry. "Eat that. And don't expect any presents, either."

"I don't," Harry reached for the pot of honey to spoon on the porridge. "I never get presents. But sometimes I get Dudley's presents once he breaks them. I could play with them all I liked, as long as I didn't look too happy. It's hard, you know, trying to look sad while you're playing. That's why I usually played in my cupboard or outside, away from the house. If they couldn't see me, I could have all the fun I wanted."

"You must hate them," Snape observed as he sat down across from Harry with his own food. "You must wish them all dead."

Harry stopped, his spoon in mid-air. "No," he said slowly. "Not really. I don't like them, but that's not the same as hate, is it? I hate Voldemort for what he did to my mum and dad. I don't feel the same way about my relatives."

Snape looked about to say something, but he hesitated and then said, "Drink all your milk."

After a few gulps, Harry went on, "I don't think it's right to hate people. You can not like people and call them names or wish you didn't have to see them. But hate - that's wrong, isn't it?"

"Not always," Snape said darkly. "And I said the other day I hate you. What about that?"

"You don't really hate me," Harry countered. "Not as much as I hate Voldemort. You couldn't."

"You're right," Snape admitted, grudgingly. "But I didn't like you when I brought you here."

"That's all right," Harry began scrapping the last of the porridge out of his bowl. "That's just you being Snape."

Snape snorted, but he sounded amused.

Harry finished the last of the toast and held out his plate and bowl. "Please?" he asked.

"You can get it," Snape motioned to the stove, "but be careful and don't spill any."

Very slowly, Harry carried his plate and bowl to the stove and ladled up two scoops of porridge without spilling a drop. He grabbed another piece of toast and headed back, balancing the dishes in his small hands.

As he climbed back in his chair, he ventured, "If today's my birthday, do I have to wash the dishes?"

"Yes," Snape barked.

"Do my chores?"

"Yes."

"Water the garden?"

"Yes."

"Go on a walk?"

"Yes. What?" Snape looked up.

"I want to go on a walk," Harry insisted. "With you. And Vampyr. All three of us on walk."

"There'll be no walk," Snape decided.

"Then I'm not doing any chores," Harry argued. "And I'll try to run away and you'll spend all day looking for me."

Snape threw down his napkin, furious.

"It's my birthday," Harry protested. "What did you do on your twelfth birthday? I bet you had fun."

"I did not. For my birthday, my father -" Snape broke off, his dark eyes flashing. "Never mind. Fine, we'll take a walk. After dishes, chores, and watering."

Harry tried not to look too please.

"But after the walk, you're staying in your room for a while to give me some peace."

"Twelve is too old for quiet time," Harry objected. "Can't I stay downstairs and read if I'm quiet?"

Snape frowned and scowled and did all his usual displeased expressions before he growled, "Every other day you go upstairs for quiet time."

"All right," Harry agreed. Snape was not very good at remembering things; Harry felt confident he could trick Snape into letting him stay downstairs everyday. He had already tricked Snape into not hating him - no quiet time couldn't be that hard.

The chores dragged on forever. Snape kept insisting he actually wash the dishes with a rag, not just dip them into water. And then he had to sweep the floor though Harry argued he didn't see any dirt on it. And the last torture, watering the garden, took another eternity as Snape wanted the beds soaked, not just sprinkled with water.

Harry had been used to waiting for things - at the Dursleys, he could wait for hours and not complain, but with Snape, Harry found himself impatient and frustrated the longer it took.

"Come on already," Harry complained as he waited by the door. "It's nearly ten o'clock."

"Listen, you cheeky brat," Snape growled as he stormed down the hall, "one more word out of you, and I'll lock you in the cellar and feed you earthworms for dinner."

Harry sighed heavily, slumping against the door. "Pleeeeeease," he begged.

Snape looked around to see if he could find something to prolong the walk even further, but he finally nodded and Harry bounced up and down eagerly. "Good, I'm ready. You're not wearing that, are you?"

Snape glanced down at his black robes and then looked ominously at Harry. "And what is wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Harry stepped back, but said, "It will look odd to wear that walking down the road. The Muggles will stare."

"And how do you know we are near Muggles and not Wizards?" Snape's eyes glittered dangerously.

"Because this is a boring Muggle house for the most part. And wouldn't Wizards come visit you if you lived near them?"

"No one visits me," Snape snarled.

"Dumbledore did, but that's it," Harry replied. He felt rather smug, able to answer just as quickly and snidely as Snape could shoot out mean remarks. "See? I'm right."

"That's it," Snape grabbed him by the arm. "Let's see if a birthday spanking sobers you right up."

"I'm not drunk - I'm just excited to go out," Harry protested, confused over the word sober, but Snape was dragging him into the living room. Snape put one leg over a footstool and flung Harry over that knee. Harry dangled there, wondering how strong Snape had to be to take his weight over just one leg.

"You'll not be too excited after this," Snape threatened.

Harry tensed and then decided to throw caution to the wind. "Give me all twelve because I'm twelve now, not eleven."

He felt Snape's hand tighten on his back and then the first swat came.

As opposed to other spankings, this swat was ridiculously light, barely more than a pat. Harry wasn't even sure it was the first one until Snape landed another light swat.

"Is that two?" Harry demanded snarkily, feeling very brave.

"You want a caning on your birthday?" Snape demanded.

"No, I'll take this spanking," Harry decided. On impulse, he pretended to wince at the next few which came, even protesting, "Oh, no, that hurt - I can't bear the pain."

"Incorrigible brat," Snape muttered.

They got to number eleven, and then Snape delivered the last swat, a horrific wallop for Harry to grow on.

"Ow!" Harry objected. As soon as Snape set him on his feet, Harry reached back to rub the spot of the last spank.

"I trust we'll have no more nonsense," Snape looked down at him, a promise in his eyes to deliver even more if Harry pushed him.

But Harry could not be bothered to worry about Snape, not on his birthday. Any other day of the year, Harry would cringed under such a hard gaze or try to get away from Snape, but on his birthday, he would bear Snape's severity and not let it affect him.

"All right, I've been smacked. Can we go now? I want us to go a long ways before it gets too hot."

"You must think me a soft-hearted simpleton to agree to this," Snape growled as they headed back to the hall.

"No, if you were a soft-hearted simpleton, you'd let us have a picnic," Harry replied. Snape's expression clearly said no picnic, so Harry opened the door and ran out to the dirt road in front of the small house.

The sun was shining brightly, already warm and humid. Harry ignored it as he jumped around Vampyr, roughhousing with the dog while Snape made a big ordeal of locking the house (like anyone would want to pinch anything inside). Vampyr wrestled Harry to the ground and playfully stepped on his back to which Harry began to squall with the fun of the game.

"Enough!" Snape bellowed. "You will cease that noise at once or we will go back inside. I agreed to a walk - I did not agree to let you scream like a banshee the entire time."

As Vampyr backed off, Harry rose to his feet and dusted his clothes off. He walked beside Snape, with Vampyr on the other side. Harry glanced up at the tall man beside him. Trust Snape to look angry and bitter on a walk on a pleasant day. That old git wasn't happy unless people were miserable. Harry glanced at Vampyr next; the dog kept trotting right along, but stayed close to Harry's side.

Harry could be their prisoner. He was an innocent man condemned to the dungeons and he was being taken there by the evil warden and his monster. Vampyr had razor-sharp teeth and huge black wings that would let him fly, and if a prisoner tried to run, Vampyr would swoop down upon him and snatch the escaper up in his claws and fly the person back to the dungeons.

Harry had invisible chains on his arms that were heavy but he had to keep moving because Warden Snape kept a long stick in his hand that he would beat over the prisoners' backs if they did not move fast enough. Harry was trying to keep up, but his feet dragged the closer they got to the dungeons. He looked back to see if he could see the tiny house where he had lived happily with his family, but the house was gone and a dangerous forest stretched before them.

On the way to the dungeons, they would fight off gigantic spiders and monsters hiding behind trees and very vicious dragon that would wound Vampyr and try to slaughter Warden Snape. Only, Harry would throw himself in front of the warden and beat back the dragon with the chains around his arms. The dragon would roar and snarl and set the forest on fire, and Harry would have to battle him with his arms still chained, in a fiery forest.

He would finally jump on the dragon's back and wrap the chains around the dragon's neck, strangling the beast until he fell to the ground dead. Then Harry would approach Warden Snape who hovered over his wounded Vampyr and Harry would explain that he had a gift: one drop of blood from his body could heal anyone. Warden Snape would reluctantly take out a knife and cut a small wound in Harry's finger. A drop of blood would fall on the dying dog, and Vampyr would jump up fully healed. Then Warden Snape would be so grateful he would free Harry and help him escape, and the three of them would flee to the mountains where no one could find them and live happily ever -

"What are you doing?" Snape demanded. "What are you walking like that and muttering under your breath?"

Harry looked up at him and realized he was pretending his hand was bleeding. Dropping his hand, he replied, "Nothing. I was just making up a story."

"We're walking, not making up stories," Snape told him.

"We could do both," Harry muttered. When Snape frowned, he protested, "Didn't you ever pretend when you were my age? Didn't you ever make up stories where you have adventures and save everyone?"

"Typical," Snape sneered. "You're the hero of your own stories as well."

"Anyone who makes up stories is the hero," Harry argued. "No one wants to be the person who stands around while the hero has all the fun. Besides, people care about the hero - otherwise the story would be boring. With a hero, the story wouldn't exist."

"Without a villain, the story would not exist. You have to have someone doing something evil or the story would be boring."

"Of course," Harry thought Snape was being rather stupid, "without a villain, the hero would just being living normally and no one would care."

"Maybe the hero would like to live normally and be happy," Snape suggested.

"That would be fine for him, but we want to see him doing something. Heroes who do nothing are boring. You should be happy - in my story, I saved you and Vampyr from a dragon."

"I would never need saving from you," Snape sneered.

"We all need saving sometimes," Harry said.

Snape was silent for a moment, then snapped, "Walk faster. We'll never get anywhere with you dawdling. Where are you going?"

"Look at this stick," Harry dashed to the side of the road and picked up a thick, dry branch. "It's a perfect sword. Find one and we can sword-fight."

"I will not. We're not picking up sticks. Harry, anymore of this nonsense and I'm taking you straight home for a long span- what are you doing now?"

Harry had picked up several thick vines. "I'm going to weave them together to make shield. If you have a sword, you need a shield. I'll pretend I'm a Roman gladiator in the coliseum, fighting off lions."

"Bite him," Snape ordered Vampyr.

The dog whined, but Harry objected, "No, wait. Vampyr can be a lion."

"You're not hitting my dog with a sword," Snape said.

"No, in the coliseum, I'll refuse to fight him and instead I'll tame him, and he becomes my protector. The roman king doesn't like that and he condemns me to die, so I have to escape with my lion and we flee into the wilderness with just my sword and have to fight off monsters together."

"Do your stories ever end?" Snape waited impatiently. "Every time I think I've finally gotten all the nonsense out of you, I find a whole new level of absurdity just waiting to come out. This pretending has to stop. You have to face reality."

"What is reality?" Harry whirled to face Snape, suddenly angry. "I'm stuck all summer with someone who doesn't like me? I'm alone without my friends and supposed to be unhappy all the time? Is that what I'm supposed to feel instead of pretending?"

"Fine, pretend all you like," Snape held up his hands in defeat. "Vampyr's lion and you're a gladiator."

"You were the one that made us start pretending," Harry shot back as he continued to twist his shield together. "I'm a work boy, I'm a school boy, I'm in a cellar dungeon - that was all your idea."

"It was," Snape admitted. "I can't fault you for something I started. No, use the vines to tie the sticks together. Here -" Snape drew out his wand.

"No magic - I want to do this myself," Harry insisted.

A few moments, he held up his shield: four sticks arranged in a square with vines tying them together. It was slightly crooked and one blow from the stick sword would break it, but Harry felt proud of his accomplishment.

"Onward, lion," he commanded Vampyr.

They walked miles that morning. Harry abandoned his sword and shield to find the perfect forked stick for a slingshot, and he flung stones at several large trees. Then he wanted to make a cart with round rocks for wheels. However, that proved too difficult, and he looked for big sticks to make crutches for himself because he was a soldier coming back from a war without a right leg.

Snape walked along, commenting once or twice, but mainly staying quiet. Vampyr was ready for any game Harry began, and the dog even held a stick in his mouth while Harry tied vines to each end and pretending that Vampyr was a horse pulling a chariot.

They stayed in the forest for the most part. Occasionally, Harry would see a cottage or small house, but no one came out to meet them nor did they see anyone on the road.

The sun rose high in the sky, and when they saw a babbling creek that ran along the side of the dirt road, Harry begged to wade in it. Snape grudgingly gave him permission, and Harry stripped off his socks and shoes and stepping into the cold water. The stones at the bottom hurt his feet, but he splashed in the water, laughing when Vampyr joined him.

Another mile, and the forest gave way to a large field and the creek poured into a lake, and Harry was allowed to go swimming as long as he didn't go too deep. When he emerged from the water, soaked and exhausted, he thought he had never been so hungry in his life.

They were miles from home, and Harry couldn't imagine going all the way back for food. He looked wistfully back up the road and then collapsed in the soft grass beside the boulder where Snape sat.

"Had enough of swimming?" Snape asked.

"Yes, now I'm just hungry," Harry sighed. A very wet Vampyr came to lie beside him, the dog also exhausted.

"I supposed we can have some food," Snape took out his wand and pointed at the grass beside Harry. A large cloth appeared along with containers of food and a pitcher of lemonade.

Harry's eyes grew big, but Snape snapped, "It's not a picnic, so don't even begin to think that. I brought food become I didn't want to listen to you whine how hungry you were."

Harry did not comment - he helped Snape open the containers and pour out the lemonade. There were sandwiches with meat and cheese, fresh tomatoes and carrots, and a big apple tart still warm that made Harry even hungrier to look at it. One container held meat for Vampyr, and they ate settled down to eat on the cloth.

Harry had three sandwich, a tomato, two carrots, two glasses of lemonade, and half the tart before he felt full. He lay on the warm grass and thought about sleeping when Vampyr nudged him. Jumping to his feet, Harry began chasing after the dog.

"I'm resting for a bit," Snape called after him. "Don't go too far."

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry played between the lake and the field. He tried to build a dam on the creek, and the water pooled up against his sticks, mud, and sand, but eventually the dam broke and all the water rushed out. Then he and Vampyr went frog hunting. They would spot several little frogs hopping about the mud, and Harry would creep up on them slowly, but Vampyr always got excited and rushed forward barking and the frogs jumped out of sight.

Snape sat on the boulder and read a book, and Harry did not see how he could do anything as boring as reading in such an exciting place, but it kept Snape occupied so Harry did not interrupt. He was afraid Snape might decide he was having too much fun and order him to sit still or something equally unpleasant.

Harry was still playing when Snape announced it was time to go home. Harry wanted to protest, but he felt utterly worn out so he put back on his sock and shoes. His clothes had dried in the heat of the afternoon, and on the walk back, he felt warm and tired. The walk home was faster than the walk out since Harry wasn't stopping every few minutes to collect sticks or stones, but it still seemed to drag on forever.

He couldn't stop yawning and he wished he were small enough to ride Vampyr. When the house finally came into sight, Harry thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

They went in and Harry slumped down on the stairs in the hall.

"No, we're having supper and then you're a getting a bath and going to bed," Snape told him

The clock said six-eighteen, but Harry did not protest.

He hungrily ate up supper (soup, bread, and greens) and tried not to yawn while Snape finished eating. Snape even made him help clear the table and the dishes weighed a ton in Harry's tired hands. He wanted to curl up in his bed upstairs, but Snape insisted on washing the dishes and then making Harry take a bath.

Harry made the water a bit cooler that usual - his face, neck, arms, and feet were rather sunburned, and the cool water felt good to his red skin. He had trouble washing; his arms were tired and numb after playing so long and hard all day. Somehow he dried himself off and put on his night shirt before stumbling towards bed.

Snape had pulled the covers back and waited for Harry to climb into bed.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled as he sank into the pillow.

"You're all sunburned," Snape disapproved.

"Don't care," Harry couldn't even open his eyes. "Got my wish."

"Wish?"

"For a happy birthday," Harry sighed deeply. "I finally got it."

He wanted to say more, but the bed felt too good to his tired limbs, and he welcomed sleep that edged closer and closer. He thought he felt a hand on his head, brushing back his wet hair, but Harry was too far gone to know for sure.