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It was New Year's Eve. Still is, actually. Well, only for about ten more seconds. But it's also something much more important. It's my lover's birthday.

You see, my lover has always resented his birthday. He has multiple reasons to do so, from his perspective at least. You see, he regrets the day he was born. He regrets the fact that his mother gave birth to him in that horrid orphanage, and he hates most of all that no one cared. You see, the other children would have some sort of small celebration thrown for them by the staff; maybe a get together and a small cake. But never for poor Tom, everyone was much more distracted with watching the clocks and counting down to the New Year.

But today was special. Today for the first time in my lover's life, his birthday was celebrated. Mind you, it wasn't a party as such a thing isn't befitting of a dark lord, but rather something much more private. A relaxing day spent in bed, just the two of us; favorite foods being fed to each other throughout the day and stories being told and memories being relived, kisses shared between thoughtful comments.

The sound of alarms going off and cheering rang through the large mansion from the celebration in the ball room that we chose not to attend.

"Happy Birthday, Tom"

A kiss shared.

"Happy New Years, Harry"

The perfect ending to the perfect day.