Just A Dream

"What do you want for your birthday?" Teddy asked.

"Nothing at all," Harry told him. "And that's not for a few months yet."

"But still… You always say you don't want anything." The boy was lying upside down on the couch, his legs straight up against the back and his head dangling off the seat. Harry was sitting on the ground beside him, leaning his back against the couch while working on some letters. Remnants of their after-dinner snack lay on the coffee table beside the parchment and ink, empty bowls and sticky spoons. Teddy patted his full belly before turning his head to place a topsy-turvy kiss on his godfather's cheek. "What do you want for your birthday?" he tried again.

"You haven't got any money."

"I'll ask Grandma to buy it. And you always get me something for my birthday."

"That's because I've got money."

Teddy clicked his tongue. "Don't be difficult," he mimicked his grandmother.

Harry laughed and glanced away from his writing to nuzzle Teddy's hair. "Alright. How about a card?"

"And?"

"Just a card isn't enough?"

Teddy didn't think it was enough at all. "A card and something else," he insisted.

"You won't let me think about it?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Fine." He supposed it was only fair. "Tell me tomorrow." He grunted his way upright and scooted around so he was facing the right way. His head was fuzzy from being the wrong way around, so he had to blink to get everything straight again. "We'll have a party." He liked birthday parties. "Let's go to the Burrow and have a party for your birthday, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Let's invite everyone. Do you think Castiel will come?"

Harry stilled his quill, just for a beat. Great question. He continued on with the letter, murmuring, "I don't know."

"I haven't seen him in so long," Teddy realized. "I wonder what he's doing."

"Hmm."

"I bet he's never been invited to a birthday party before. I bet he'd want to come."

"Yeah. I bet."

Teddy tilted his head up. "Castiel?" he called out into the Heavens. "Where aaaaare you? Do you want to come to Harry's birthday party?"

"He couldn't possibly have anything better to do."

"Tsk. Do you want to be uninvited?"

Harry arched his brows. "I won't be invited to my own party?"

"Not if you keep being difficult."

After Teddy left for home to climb into bed, Harry tried reading for a while. His mind was elsewhere though. He didn't get farther than a few pages before giving up on the book he had borrowed from Hermione too long ago. Restless. He got up to his feet to pace.

Nearly a month had passed since his demon encounter. He was back on his feet, back at work, back in time to face the press about his impending promotion. And he was feeling even less prepared for the Head Auror position than before. If he was unable to defend himself against those demons, could he really be qualified enough to lead his team? Would he be putting his family in danger? Would the demons try again? When? Where? How could he fight them? Their magic was so primitive that his wards wouldn't stop them from finding his house again. There was so much to do. So little time. He had to focus on intensifying his wandless magic. Fast.

All these thoughts were taking a toll on him.

The moment his head touched the pillow, he was in a nightmare.

It was nighttime and he was at the front door of the Burrow. He looked up. The sky was pitch black. He pushed open the door and walked into the dark home. It was too quiet. The Burrow wasn't supposed to be quiet. He waved his hand to turn the lights on.

Streamers and balloons riddled the ceiling.

Too quiet… Too cold.

His heart slowly starting to race, he walked forward. The corridor seemed endless. The colorful balloons bobbed above him and streamers rustled against his head as he brushed past it to get to the weathered door at the end of the hallway. After walking for many, many minutes, he managed to grip the cold doorknob with his clammy fist. He didn't want to open the door. The Burrow was too quiet. He didn't want to see what was on the other side.

The door opened with a click, creaking away from him, sending a cold draft his way, revealing-

An arm circled his waist and jerked him away.

Before he could make a sound, he was sinking…

Sinking into his warm sheets.

He fluttered his eyes open to blink up at Castiel standing by the bed.

He couldn't figure out if he was still dreaming.

He decided to take the opportunity in any case.

He moved his clumsy limbs around so he could prop up on his elbows while smacking his tongue to the roof of his dry mouth. "Hey." He struggled to keep his eyes from closing. "Where were you?"

"You should sleep." Castiel reached down.

"No," Harry tried to argue, but the moment the angel touched his temple, he melted into the pillow again, fast asleep.

Castiel let his hand linger against Harry's bedraggled hair. There was that steady thumping against his chest once again, growing loud as it always seemed to do around the wizard. He had longed for that feeling, that pleasant ache. Strands of black hair curled around his fingers. "Hmm." He knelt down. He knew it was cowardly, but he couldn't talk to Harry when he was awake. "Forgiveness comes so naturally to you…" He eased his fingers away. If only angels forgave this way instead of holding grudges lasting millennia.

"Thank you, Harry… For fighting… For not giving up. Even after I gave up on you." He had let fear take hold of him. He had let the Reaper take Harry. If not for Harry's furious will to live, he would have done nothing at all because he had been too afraid. "I couldn't protect you. I said I would, but I couldn't." He forced back the rest of his words. He was getting muddled up in emotions again. He took a breath to calm his tongue. "I will get stronger," he vowed. "I will become as strong as you. And then I won't hesitate. I will not give up on you again."

Harry let out a loud grumble and turned away. "You talk too much." He pulled the blanket over his head.

When he woke up again, it was daytime. He sniffed the smell of cooked eggs. Déjà vu. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes and sat up before stretching his arms above his head. He hadn't slept that well in a while. He let out a loud yawn.

Castiel was fidgeting with a fork when Harry padded in and plopped down on the chair, elbows on either side of his plate and chin planted on the heels of his palms.

"You'll have to make more than one apology breakfast."

"… How many?"

"I don't know yet." He glanced at the spread on the table – toast, scrambled eggs, sausages, butter, jam, and juice. "You went all out on this one, huh?"

"Yes."

"And you know that sleep thing you do?"

"Hmm?"

"Ask me first before you do it." Harry tucked into the warm food after having said his piece. Delicious breakfast too. He swallowed his third bite and looked up at Castiel, contemplative. "Is this what you were doing this past month? Practicing your cooking?"

Castiel nearly smiled. "Ah… No. That is not what I have been doing for the past month."

"The eggs are good."

"Am I invited to your birthday party?"

Harry smirked at the abrupt query. Obviously Castiel had been itching to ask. "We'll take a look at Teddy's guest list." He should have known. The angel was always listening. "I'm glad you're alright."

"And I am glad you are alright."

"But you should have visited me sooner."

"I know."

He took some time to cut up his sausages. It was nice just sitting at the table eating breakfast. Back to normal. Like waking up from a strange dream. "Did you get in trouble for saving me?" he wondered.

Trouble was one way to look at it, Castiel figured. "No," he lied.

"I'm going to be pissed off if I get in that situation again. I didn't ask for this. I can't handle your problems on top of everything else."

He studiously chewing on the toast so he wouldn't have to say anything to the irate wizard. He had a feeling anything he could say would be the wrong thing to say.

Harry waved a fork at him. "I'm serious, Castiel. If I die, I'll probably come back as a ghost anyway and that would just be the worst."

"The worst," he agreed with a firm nod and a straight face.

"You owe me at least five more breakfasts."

"Anything for you."

Harry took a quick swig of the orange juice. "So… what's the deal with that Scottish bastard?"

Mountains of contracts went flying off the desk.

The demons stepped back in fright.

Crowley closed his eyes and took a seething breath. "All I want…" He cleared his throat. "All I want is some leverage against that pain in the arse angel." He opened his eyes to look at his followers. "That is all I ask for." He rested his hands on the now empty bureau and leaned forward. "Did I stutter? I said, 'Bring me leverage.' I said, 'Make it good.' And you…" He flung the bureau at the demons with an enraged bellow. "YOU IMBECILES BROUGHT ME THE MASTER OF DEATH?!"