"Harry, sit still!" Daddy ordered.

"Can't. It itches, Dad." I tried to stay still, honest. But it was impossible.

"Harry, stop wriggling and be still, I mean it!"

"But it tickles the back of my neck!"

Daddy gave an exasperated sigh. "I'll brush off the back of your neck when I'm done. Now for the last time, Harry James Severus, don't move! Or else I'll put you in the corner for a twenty-five minute time-out and see if that won't cure you of the ants in your pants."

I had to giggle at that saying. It was one Grandpa sometimes used too and it always made me imagine some silly kid shoving bugs down their underwear and then jumping all over trying to get them out. But then I caught Dad's warning Snape glare, the one that meant-behave, or else!-and I forced myself to sit still while he cut my hair. I didn't care if my hair was in my eyes, lots of kids in my school had long hair, but Daddy said that style was too unmanageable, my hair was messy enough as it was, and it was getting trimmed. Period, the end.

He did it with enchanted scissors, and I was sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen with a towel around me, but it still tickled and I hated having to sit still and not move my head for so long. About fifteen minutes, but it felt much longer! Some of my hair fell onto my nose and I felt a tickle in the back of my throat. Oh no, I was going to sneeze! I could feel it coming on, and then I sneezed violently.

"A-a-a-ch-o-o-o-!"

"Harry, for the love of Merlin!"

"Sorry, Dad. I couldn't help it." I reached up to feel the back of my head, but my dad swatted my fingers down. "Is my haircut ruined?"

"No. But if you don't stop squirming around, it will be." He lifted the scissors once more, and this time I concentrated hard on keeping still, until Dad had finished with my hair.

"There! Hopefully this will tame it down somewhat," my dad said, running a comb through my hair and then dusting off the back of my neck, which itched something fierce. I really didn't like getting my hair cut, but Dad insisted, and I knew better than to argue with him.

Grandpa was the one who'd noticed this time and said I needed to get it cut, because I was starting to look like a hippie, whatever that meant. Plus, Dad said I need to look decent for my birthday party, which was in another month and a half. I could hardly wait.

It was going to be at Hogwarts, Uncle Al had agreed to let me have it there, all my friends would be there and so would Uncle Remus, Padfoot, Grandpa, Aunty Min, and of course, my dad. Even Inky would be allowed to come, since my dad had cast a special charm on his collar so he couldn't wander off the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest. There would be games and hamburgers and ice cream and cake, prizes for the games and presents.

I spent half the night dreaming of how wonderful it was going to be instead of sleeping. The next morning, I was crabby and didn't want to get up for school. But Dad made me anyway, the mean old grouch, and said since I was so tired and cross, I needed an earlier bedtime tonight.

"No way, Dad! I already go to bed at eight-thirty. I don't wanna go to bed at seven-thirty. That's for babies!"

"Well, mister, since you're acting like a whiny little baby, perhaps I ought to treat you like one," Dad threatened.

"Am not!" I shouted, stamping my foot.

"No? Then what do you call that? Shouting and stamping your foot just like a bratty two-year-old."

I pouted, rubbing my eyes and yawning. "M' just tired, that's all."

"Exactly. Which is why you're going to go to bed early tonight and sleep off this grouchy fit you're in."

"No-o-o!" I cried, now growing furious. "I won't go to bed early! I won't!" I crossed my arms and glared at him.

He glared right back at me. "Quit acting like a spoiled brat, young man, or else you'll be going to school with a sore bottom."

"You're mean, Dad! It's no fair!" Then I stamped my foot again, just because I felt like it. Stamp! Stamp! Stamp!

Big mistake.

He'd already warned me once.

Before I could move, he had turned me around, bent me over, and smacked me hard, three times, on my bum. "Owww!" I wailed, bursting into tears.

"I warned you, Harry," said my father. "Next time don't test me." Then he hugged me and I cried into his shirt. He patted my back and hushed me, because for some reason I couldn't stop crying. "Yes, you definitely need an earlier bedtime, you're overtired." He took me on his lap and held me until I had quit crying.

Then he told me to go wash my face and comb my hair, which wasn't sticking up all over my head for once. I went, running a warm flannel cloth over my face, it made me feel a little better. Then I rubbed my bottom, it stung, just as he'd promised. But I had learned my lesson. If there was one thing Dad hated, it was a spoiled brat, and he often said the only cure for one was a good spanking.

I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where he was putting my lunch into my book bag. "I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled brat, Dad." I said, sniffling.

He held out an arm and I ran over and he gave me a big hug. "Next time, behave, son, and I won't need to spank you. All's forgiven, scamp."

I hugged him back, happy he wasn't mad and he'd forgiven me. I hated it when he was mad at me, it hurt worse than a spanking, don't ask me why. Then I went and ate breakfast, and afterwards it was time to go to school.

But I was still tired and grouchy and I was in a bad mood all day, I even snapped at Hermione, though I apologized later. Miss Wilkins even noticed and said I'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. I wished I hadn't gotten up at all.

When I got home, I did my homework, fed and brushed Inky, had dinner, and then Dad made me go to bed. I whined a little, but I was secretly glad I could go to bed early, because I was so out-of-sorts. Inky curled up next to me and I fell asleep listening to him purring, my hand buried in his soft fur.

The last thing I remember is Dad's hand stroking my hair and giving me a kiss on the forehead. "Pleasant dreams, my Harry," he whispered and then I was asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't tired at all. Maybe Dad wasn't such a mean old grouch after all. Or at least he was a smart mean old grouch.

* * * * * * *

Finally it was my birthday, and Dad woke me up that morning with his usual, "Rise and shine, lazybones!"

I opened my eyes and groaned. "Dad! It's Saturday!"

"You're right, but do you know what else it is?" he demanded, grinning.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to guess. Then I knew. "It's my birthday!" I crowed. "Now I'm seven!" I leaped out of bed and Dad caught me and spun me around, like he always does on my birthday morning.

"You're getting too big for me to hold, Mr. Seven Year Old," he teased, even though he knows perfectly well I'm small for my age. Then he set me down and said, "What do you want for breakfast, birthday boy?"

Since it was my birthday, I could choose whatever I wanted for breakfast, even if it was something with tons of sugar that Dad would never let me eat otherwise. I thought for a minute. "I want waffles with ice cream, Dad. And chocolate sauce and whipped cream and a cherry on top."

Dad just rolled his eyes. "I should've known. You're a Snape, all right. Dessert for breakfast. All right, since it's your birthday . . ."

Because it was my birthday, I didn't have any chores to do, not even feeding Inky. Dad did them all for me while I ate my waffles and ice cream with an extra helping of chocolate sauce.

Then I got dressed and we phoned Grandpa to let him know we were Apparating over to pick him up. I put Inky in a special carrier and Dad shrank it so I could hold him while we Apparated. Then we were off to Spinner's End, which is the name of the street my grandfather lives on.

"Happy birthday, minnow!" Grandpa said, as soon as he caught sight of me. "How old are you now, Harry? I can't seem to remember. Must be getting old."

"Yes, senility's setting in, Dad," teased my father, his dark eyes twinkling.

"Who asked for your opinion, doctor?" growled my grandfather, but I could tell he was kidding. Then he looked at me. "Well, Harry? Don't keep me in suspense. How old are you now? Five? Six?"

"I'm seven, Grandpa!" I cried. "Almost a grownup."

"Seven? My, you are almost all grownup. Before you know it, you'll be going off to Hogwarts."

"But Grandpa, don't you remember? We are going to Hogwarts. Uncle Al said I could have my party there." I reminded him.

"That's right, I knew I'd forgotten something." Grandpa laughed. "Guess I'd better get your present and the hamburgers and the barbecue sauce." He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a shopping bag and a box wrapped in blue paper with balloons on it. "Okay, Sev, I'm set. D'you need to perform a shrinking charm or whatever you wizards call it on these?" He held out the present and the bag.

"Yes, that'd be best. Less mass when I Apparate." He took out his wand and performed a quick charm to shrink the bag and the present down to miniature size, so Grandpa could put them in his jacket. Then he put a hand on Grandpa's shoulder, picked up me and Inky, and we Apparated to Hogwarts. Dad explained that Uncle Al had lifted the Anti-Apparition wards over the school just for my birthday party.

We appeared in the Great Hall, which was where the students met for meals and the beginning and end of the year for speeches and awards and feasts. Among the usual banners of the Houses were sparkling purple and gold and silver streamers and balloons shaped like all different kinds of animals, even a panther.

The big table where the teachers usually sat had a long tablecloth on it with a big centerpiece of a panther sleeping and on its back was a blanket with the number seven on it. A huge banner stretched across the wall read HAPPY 7TH BIRTHDAY HARRY! By each of the seats was a cracker, a party hat, and a place setting. I knew the crackers were wizard crackers, which meant they had a special surprise inside them, each one different from the other. I knew who had put them there. Uncle Al loved wizard crackers.

Dad restored Grandpa's bag and the present to their normal size and I let Inky out of his carrier, he didn't much care to be shut in there and was starting to yowl. He came out, sniffing cautiously and twitching his whiskers at the new smells and sounds. His collar, which was spelled, and had a nametag and a bell, glowed slightly. He was now too big to be held comfortably, being close to ninety pounds and getting bigger every day. I stroked him and whispered, "This is Hogwarts, Inky. One day I'm gonna go to school here. Isn't it the coolest?"

Inky sat down next to me and purred in agreement.

Then Uncle Al and Aunty Min appeared in the room with a pop. "Hello, Severus. Hello, Tobias," greeted Uncle Al, who was wearing his usual purple and star covered robes. Then he smiled and said, "And happy birthday, Harry! How do you like the decorations? Minerva and I did them."

"They look great, Uncle Al. Thanks!" I said. "Are Ron, Blaise, and Hermione here yet? Or the twins and Ginny?"

I had only invited a small number of kids to my party, my best friends mostly and the Weasleys, who were sort of like cousins and brothers and a sister, since I spent so much time with them if Dad were on call or had to go to a meeting.

"I'm sure they'll be here shortly, Harry," said Uncle Al, his eyes twinkling merrily. Then he bent to pet Inky. "Look at you, you beautiful boy! He's gotten so big, Harry!"

"Well, he's almost eight months old, right, Harry?" said Aunty Min proudly. "He's going to be a fine big panther. You've taken wonderful care of him." Then she too went to stroke my panther, who rubbed up against her and purred so loudly you could hear it all across the hall.

"You ought to be very proud, Harry," Dad whispered in my ear. "Minerva never hands out compliments like that unless you've earned them."

I suddenly felt like I was ten feet tall. It wasn't always easy taking care of Inky, but I had done it, and now he was growing up to be a beautiful big cat and Aunty Min was proud of me and so was Daddy.

Then there came a soft hiss from the fireplace and I looked over. The flames had turned a deep green shade and from out of them came, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. The twins were carrying a present wrapped with a big red bow and Ron had a large white box in his hands.

"Uh, Healer Sev, where do I put the cake?" asked Ron. "Mum baked it special for Harry."

"Here, let me help you, Ron," Dad said, moving over to take the box from him before he dropped it. He floated it over to the table where we'd be sitting for the party. Off to the side was a smaller table where my presents were. So far I had five, counting the Weasleys' gift.

Ron had his broom and immediately asked me if we could go flying, he wanted to show me the latest Quidditch move his brothers had taught him. I learned how to play Quidditch from the Weasleys, since Dad's never been a fan of the sport. It's too dangerous, he says, he's patched up too many Quidditch players to ever enjoy playing it.

"Dad? Can I go play with Ron on my broom?"

"Go on, scamp. It's your birthday, go and have fun," Dad waved me away, then turned to my grandfather and said, "Dad, we might as well set up the barbecue now as later. It's a little different from what you're used to, since magic makes it work, but you should be fine. . . "

Ron and I ran out the door quick as lightning, followed by the twins and Ginny, who usually played Chaser. The twins were Beaters and I was the Seeker and Ron was Keeper. Ron was very good on a broom, but that's ‘cause he practiced a lot with his brothers. Sometimes I wished I had a brother or a sister to play with, they seemed like fun. Unless they were being annoying or a tattletale, Ron said. "Then you wish you were an only child, like you and Hermione are."

"Watch this, Harry!" Ron called, hovering a few feet away from me on his broom. "It's called the Snapdragon Spiral."

Then he dove some ten feet in the air, pulled up and spun around in a spiral pattern.

"Awesome!" I shouted. "Teach me, Ron!"

We spent the next half-hour doing the Snapdragon and playing Quidditch until Hermione and Blaise arrived. Blaise liked Quidditich too, but Hermione didn't really get it and she didn't know how to fly either and she didn't have her own broom yet. So we stopped and went to play a game she could play too.

Out on the lawn Hagrid had set up bunny croquet, a wizard game where the croquet ball looked like a bunny curled up in a ball and the goal was to get the bunny inbetween the thorny tunnels to the carrot goal. You had to tap the bunny with your dandelion mallet to start it hopping, and then hope it hopped in the right direction, through the thorny tunnel and not into it or off the course.

It was great fun and we all took turns being on each other's team and laughing at how bad each other's shots were, since this was the first time any of us except Fred and George had ever played. To my shock, Hermione was better than all of us, she had the best tap and she could aim the bunny wherever she pleased.

Hagrid, who was Games Master, declared Hermione the winner of that game and gave her a prize, a shirt with the words Croquet Mistress in sparkly pink letters. She was tickled pink. "Thanks! I've never won anything before! This is the best birthday party I've ever been at!"

Next we played Pin-the-Tail-On-the-Dragon, and we were blindfolded and given a paper tail with a tack in it. Then we had to try and pin the tail on the dragon portrait, which would roar and scream "Ouch!" or make fun at you if you missed. It breathed fake fire if you got it right. Ron won, and for this game the prize was a mini Hungarian Horntail carving, animated like my Chinese fireball.

"Wicked, Harry! I've never had anything like this before." He examined his prize with interest.

"Better hide that-"

"-from Percy, Ronnie, or else the prat's-"

"-gonna steal it, sure enough," warned the twins.

Ron quickly shoved the dragon in his pocket. "No, he ain't! If he lays one fingernail on it, I'll tell Mum."

Then came the dart balloon game, where you threw blunted darts at a bunch of balloons mounted on a wall. Inside each balloon was a ticket and on each ticket was written some kind of prize. Everyone came away with a prize on that one, even me. I got a whistle that blew bird calls.

Next we played charades, on teams, and the twins, who were natural mimics, won that game. They imitated my dad and Uncle Matt, who couldn't make it to the party, but had sent a gift, so well we were all rolling on the ground laughing until we nearly peed our pants. Hagrid thought it was funny too, and Fred and George each got a certificate to Zonko's Joke Shop, which was a wizard joke store in Hogsmeade nearby.

Then we played a game similar to the ball toss at the circus, only you had to knock down three beakers instead of six. Blaise was the best, he knocked down three on the first try and I whistled and said, "Where'd you learn how to throw like that, Blaise?"

"I asked Healer Morgan to give me some pointers and then I just practiced a lot."

His prize was a little cauldron that brewed delicious cold drinks, like chocolate milkshakes, butterbeer, and fruit punch.

Last but not least was the guess how many Bertie Botts Beans are in the jar game. Surprisingly, it was Ginny who guessed the closest with 417 beans. Her prize was the jar of beans and a stuffed unicorn that smelled like lavender and said "I love you" when you hugged it. Ginny loved it.

After, Dad came out on the lawn and called us inside for lunch. We all wore the party hats, even some of the adults, though not Grandpa and my dad, since they said that was for kids, and opened up our wizard crackers. Each of them had a different magical animal inside, mine was an ice wolf, a big white wolf that breathed cones of frost and lived way up in the arctic. There were all my favorite foods-Grandpa had made hamburgers with his special barbecue sauce, grilled cheese with bacon, chips, fresh bread with butter, and a fruit salad. Everything was delicious. Uncle Remus and Sirius had arrived by then and I went over to see them after I'd finished eating.

"Hiya, little buddy!" cried Uncle Sirius, whom I hadn't seen since he stayed at my house for two weeks back in December. He hugged me so tight I squeaked. "Remus, look a t how much bigger Harry's gotten. He's not a shrimp any more."

"Hey!" I cried, insulted. "I was never a shrimp!"

"I was kidding, Harry," chuckled Padfoot. "So, did Sev give you a birthday spanking yet?"

"No!" I cried, horrified. "I haven't been bad, why should he spank me? It's my birthday!"

For some reason that made Padfoot crack up laughing. And Remus shook his head and said, "Harry, it's not a punishment, just a silly game. It doesn't hurt, and you only get one swat for every year old you are, plus one to grow on. It's an old Muggle tradition, and one that Sirus has adopted for his own. It's supposed to bring good luck or something."

"Oh." Now I felt dumb, getting all worked up over nothing.

Sirius wiped his streaming eyes, then said, "Well, if Sev won't give you one, I will. It's just for luck, Harry. C'mere."

Next thing I knew, Padfoot had put me over his knee and gave me seven very light taps, plus one to grow on, then he stood me up and said, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? And now you'll have good luck for the rest of the year."

"His mother must be turning over in her grave, seeing her son following a Muggle tradition," smirked Moony.

"Why? She didn't like Muggles?"

"Kiddo, she didn't like much of anybody. Including me. The only one she ever cared two Knuts about, ‘cept maybe herself, is my little brother Regulus. He was her baby. And perfect." There was a frown on Padfoot's face when he said that. It made me sad.

So I hugged him and said, "Well, we all like you, Uncle Sirius."

"Yeah, even if you are God's own pain in the arse sometimes," put in Remus. Padfoot glared at him, so then he said, "But I'd take you any day of the week over your mother, Siri."

Sirius snorted. "Ah, and who wouldn't, Moony? Well, except for my brother."

"I never even knew you had a brother, Padfoot."

"That's cause he and I never got along and he doesn't live here now. He moved to America a couple of years back and I haven't heard from him since, thank Merlin!"

"When we were kids, Reg used to follow us around, and we were all older and didn't want him hanging around us, so we'd tell him to get lost. Then he'd go make up stories about how we were being mean and nasty to him to Mrs. Black and get us in trouble," Moony told me.

"He was always doing that. One time he got me spanked for nothing, the little liar. My mother always liked him best. But my dad liked me, and when he was home, Reg knew better than to make up stories, ‘cause Dad hated liars and he paddled my brother good once for lying."

"Bet your mum didn't like that."

"There wasn't anything she could do about it. By the time she found out, it was done, and it served the little brat right." Sirius shook his head. "Enough about my little brother. He's a rotten apple. I'm going to get another hamburger, those burgers are the best I've ever tasted."

"They are," agreed Moony. "Your grandpa sure can cook, Harry. Must run in the family."

"All us Snapes can cook," I said proudly. "Even I can, a little."

They went to get another hamburger, and I went over to grab another handful of chocolate chip bars my dad had made, he was sitting by Uncle Al and Aunty Min, talking.

"Enjoying your birthday, Harry?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, it's the best!"

He smiled at me then said, "Well, the cake and presents are coming up, so don't eat too many of those." He waved a hand at my dessert.

"Oh, let him eat them, Sev," laughed Uncle Al. "You're only seven once."

"Fine, but don't come crying to me if your stomach hurts later, scamp, from stuffing yourself on sweets like a pig."

I quickly put one bar back. I didn't want to get a bad tummy ache on my birthday and have to take some gross potion to make it go away. And I knew my daddy would give me one, no matter what he said, he can't help fixing sick people.

Finally, Uncle Al said it was time for the cake, which Mrs. Weasley had baked for me, and Dad lit the candles, which shot off little fireworks as they sang "Happy Birthday" to me. After we'd all eaten the yummy cake-it was double chocolate with extra dark frosting-I heard Dad say to Grandpa, "That child is never going to be able to sleep tonight thanks to all that sugar, God help us."-it was time to open presents.

From the Weasleys, I got a very cool kid-sized Quidditch set, so now I could play Quidditch in my backyard and not just Ron's. "Thanks, guys!" I said, and Ron said, "I picked that out, Mum wanted to get you clothes."

"Just like a typical girl!" chorused the twins.

Ginny kicked them under the table, and so did Hermione, I think.

From Hermione, I got a book called, All About Panthers and a very nice art kit, with pastels and paints and really good brushes and markers and paper. "Wow! Thanks, Mione!"

"You're welcome, Harry. I figured you needed some new art stuff, all your pencils were worn to stumps."

This made the adults laugh, don't ask me why.

Blaise got me tickets to the cinema, we both liked to see movies. "There's a new one playing next Friday, Harry."

"Great, now we can go and see it." I said.

From Aunty Min, I got a soft black velvet cloak, to wear during the fall, it had a panther embroidered in white on the back and was very nice. Uncle Al got me a set of books called The Tale of the Green Dragon, which I'd never read before. Hagrid gave me some treats for Inky, and a new lead.

Inky had spent the time we were playing games playing with Fang, Hagrid's boarhound. But now he was taking a nap by my feet. Uncle Matt gave me a wizard chess set, which Ron told me he would teach me how to play.

"Open mine next, minnow," said Grandpa and he handed me the small square box I'd been dying to open ever since I'd seen it on his kitchen table.

Inside the box were seven carved animals, jungle animals, beautifully carved and painted. There was a panther (of course), a monkey, a giraffe, an elephant, a tiger, a hippo, and a parrot. "You remembered1" I cried. "That day when we were sanding Bobby Middleton's I asked you to make me some and you remembered. Thanks, Grandpa!" I ran over to him and gave him a big hug.

"Sure I did, minnow! I have a very good memory, you know." He ruffled my hair. "Go and open your dad's present next."

That was the biggest box up there, and inside it was "A new broom!" I yelled. My old one had been getting too small for me. "Thanks, Dad! This one is way cooler than my old one." He got an even bigger hug.

"But remember my rule, Harry. No flying on your own," he reminded.

"I know, Dad. I won't forget." Not after what happened the last time.

"And this is from Remus and I," said Padfoot and he handed me an envelope.

Inside were passes to a zoo called Paws For Thought, it was a special zoo where they rescued hurt animals and you could pet them. I had always wanted to go there, but Dad never had time to take me. I could bring up to five guests with me too, not including an adult or two, of course.

"Now we can all go to the zoo! This is so awesome! Look, Dad!" I waved the tickets in front of his nose.

"Wonderful, Harry." Then he darted a Look at his two friends. "And guess who's coming with me to help me watch all the children?"

"Oh no, Sev, that's mean!" protested Remus. "I'm a werewolf, most animals can't stand me. Except for Inky and Fang."

"But the children all love you, Moony," pointed out my father slyly. "And you too, Padfoot."

"Uh, I'm working, Sev. Got a big case coming up."

"So we'll go on your day off," Dad said quickly.

The two looked at each other and Remus said, "We might as well give up, Sirius. We aren't going to win this one, and besides, you always wanted to go there."

"It was your idea to buy the season passes," grumbled Padfoot.

"Oh, quit complaining, boys!" ordered Uncle Al. "It'll be fun!"

All three friends looked at one another and said, "Famous last words, Albus."

But it was a wonderful birthday.