birthday drabble for ziasudra_fic

[asimplechord]

ziasudra_fic specified: Harry, Snape, birthday. Not precisely 100 words, but this is what popped out.



Harry knows it's rude, but he figures that after nearly a half-century of well-wishes and thanks, after all he gave up for the greater good, he's entitled to a quiet birthday. So shortly before the start of the workday on 31July, he slips out of his portrait, in its place of honor at the Ministry, and heads to a portrait-frame in a quiet corner on the other side of the atrium.

"Hmph. Brat. Can't even be bothered to greet your worshippers?" Snape's words are sharp, but his glance, when it lifts from the book in his long-fingered hands, is wistful. The entry guard has only been on duty for a minute, and already there's a queue of people, few of them regular work-a-day Ministry employees, waiting to shuffle through the atrium past Harry's portrait.

"If they can't be bothered to come see you, why should I be on display for them?"

"It is your natal day."

"But they're also celebrating the reason it's our deathday. And if they can't appreciate us both, I'd rather they didn't bother. I spent years trying to point them this way, but other than the Weasleys and Lupins they just wouldn't listen."

"Hmph."

Snape doesn’t say anything more, and Harry wonders if he should find another portrait to occupy for the duration. Just when he decides to see if Phineas is around, there is the sound of a throat clearing.

"Happy birthday, Potter."