Nobody ever asked my birthday

Morning Run

Tuesday Morning, Harry rose before the sun did (the year was getting old, and so the sun was getting short with everyone). He wiped the sleep out of his eyes (because sleep was a beach that left sand behind, apparently*). He bounded down the stairs, in a controlled sort of perpetual fall, steered by his feet rather than caused by them.** He only slowed to a jog after he hit the ground floor running. If he'd hit the door at a flat run, it would have rebounded into its doorframe with a giant-waking thump (and since he wasn't trying to wake the whole stormin' castle...)

Harry ran around the castle, more wary than yesterday. Like yesterday, there were plenty of reasons to be wary. Not counting Hagrid's current collection of beasts***, or Sprout's greenhouses (which Harry was supposed to be going around, not rolling through - but he wasn't about to apologize if he wasn't caught), Snape had planted traps, some of which were practically muggle (Harry privately suspected that just meant he didn't notice the magic...). Others, of course, were just deadly. Those generally made a noise, or were otherwise detectable, if one was careful.

Careful didn't lead to fast running, of course. This wouldn't be one of the days Harry managed to circle the castle three times.

That was fine.

This was better anyway. Good training for being an Auror, Harry thought with a mild grimace.

People had just started assuming Harry wanted to be an Auror - and it really hadn't been worth correcting them. What else was he going to do? Quiddich? That seemed a waste... Oh, sure, he wouldn't mind doing it on the side... Besides, an Auror was a fine career path, and it wasn't like it didn't have difficult requirements. Not all the hard courses, of course - Hermione was taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, but still...

Harry really hadn't done much thinking at all past Voldemort's Death. For years, it had loomed so large, and was so inevitable, and was such the oncoming train of it all, unavoidable at best... Harry truly didn't know what he wanted to do. He wanted to be good at something, sure... but was that all? What was he even good at? With a fond smile, Harry remembered Hermione saying, "You have a saving people thing." It would be nice to be useful, sure... Not that he had to have all of this life and death surrounding him... but just to be useful.

The Twins were useful - they made people smile. Harry wrote a mental note to tell the Twins to take some of their products to St. Mungos, and write them off as a charitable expense.

By the time Harry stumbled up to his rooms, his robe was only slightly melted, in a few spots. He studied it, frowning, before concluding, Not a complete loss. Not for classes anymore, though.

*beach should be read in a Jamaican accent, obviously.

**gravity is making him fall. feet are steering, not propelling.

*** the word's menagerie, Harry. menagerie.

[a/n: Reviews welcome! Harry really just went with the flow on "You want to be an Auror". Not quite looked at the sheet and picked what sounded cool (or at random).

Harry's being a bit inflammatory with what he's saying here, for what it's worth. It's not like Snape's set up traps that are Insta-Death. These are the kind that will kill slowly, and also have alarms set to Summon a Teacher.

Re: The person who said "Harry can't pick up the prophecy orb if he's not in the prophecy":

I changed canon! I Changed Canon!

I will defend such a change, in that it makes way more dramatic sense. I leave it as an exercise to the reader to determine if the Unspeakables were spreading merry rumors suggesting that you couldn't pick up ones that didn't belong to you, if only to discourage people from Trying Every One.]