Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise.

It was a gorgeous day. Not a cloud in the sky with a light breeze that tousled leaves and breathed calmness. It was just the day for it.

He was three, clutching his Da's shirts as he was carried upstairs to her bedroom. She greeted him with a warm smile and laughter like sunlight.

Seamus had the window open. It overlooked the small, grubby field behind his apartment. It wasn't much, but it enough so that the fumes of town life didn't get too unbearable.

He was actually meant to be working but he didn't feel like it today. Couldn't do it. Even if he'd tried. As such, he didn't know what to do and found himself pacing, and thinking. Seamus hated thinking too much these days. There was too much to think about. The past mainly. Everyone seemed to be so much happier now. Around him everyone was celebrating the downfall of Voldemort and the freedom that had finally been given to the Wizarding World.

Not that Seamus wasn't happy about it, but it didn't last. The ecstatic feeling that had seemed to settle over everyone hadn't reached him. There had been one too short when they'd been giving out happy feelings. Seamus had lost out.

He was five. Stood in the kitchen on the small, rickety stool. The kitchen was a mess. But it didn't matter. He'd tentatively climbed the stairs with his Da again, balancing the tray carefully. Ever so carefully.

It wasn't as if he didn't have things to be happy about. He still attended the gatherings, still saw his friends from Hogwarts and went down to the pub for a drink with his local mates. But it wasn't the same. It wouldn't ever be the same.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the appearance of a Patronus diving in through the open window. The squirrel scuttled across the kitchen worktop before sitting up on it's haunches. Fergus' voice suddenly filled the room, it sounded rather breathless.

"Baby born an hour ago. Little girl. Healthy. Called…Niamh". The Patronus vanished and Seamus frowned. More so for the pause that Fergus had allowed before announcing his new daughter's name. But something about a little baby being born… today of all days. He tried to block it out as he sent his own Patronus back to Fergus with his congratulations though he knew his tone wouldn't exactly express happiness. At least Fergus would understand… he hoped.

Eight years old. Out in the field with Fergus. He'd collected all the flowers he could find. Even tucked them into the pocket of his dungarees. Upon getting home, he'd put them into a vase. They were drooping slightly, but they filled the kitchen window beautifully. It was going to be a surprise.

Seamus walked over to the calendar next to the door and pulled out his wand. The date stared out at him. Sixteenth of August. He'd never forget today's date. Slowly, with his wand, he inscribed the words: Niamh O'Connell birthday (1998). He didn't let his eyes stray to the name in the same date above. He couldn't let himself. Not now. Not yet.

Nine. She hadn't been there. Away on a trip. He had been worried. How would he give it to her? A hurriedly made card was attached to the owl along with a box of chocolates. A return the next day let him know it was appreciated.

It did make him think. Of his own birthdays. When he was younger, they'd usually been an excuse for all the adults to get together for a drink. Seamus had usually been content with the few friends that were there for him. It was never really a celebration of his birthday, not until he was old enough to protest about it. When he was nine some of his uncles had tried to give him 'the birthday bumps' and Seamus had flatly refused, stormed inside and had blatantly declined to talk to anyone for the rest of the week. He had been promised a proper birthday celebration the next year.

But it had never happened. On Seamus's tenth birthday he had gotten up very excited about the day, only to come downstairs to find his parents having a blazing row in the kitchen. He'd spent the majority of the morning sat on the stairs watching them scream at each other. He'd only been noticed when his Da had attempted to get up the stairs and had sworn at him for getting in the way. After that Seamus had retreated to his room and had only appeared when the slamming of the front door told him it was safe. He'd found her crying in the kitchen.

He was ten. Just the two of them. A walk into the village. A tea at the small café. He had spilt his drink. But she'd just laughed. A waiter had brought a cake. She had been surprised, but happy. White with pink icing and a shamrock in the middle.

Now he looked back on it, Seamus wasn't surprised his parents had split up. Their relationship had been splintered for months. He had gotten a party, but it had been several weeks after his birthday and the whole thing had been rather a hushed affair. It hadn't been the same.

After that he'd been at Hogwarts for most of his birthdays. They were usually spent just as every other student celebrated their birthday at Hogwarts. Opening presents in the morning, having a laugh with mates and doing as little work as possible in lessons. At the time, Seamus had been perfectly content with them. He and Dean had started a pact to always make sure they had a good time on their birthdays.

When he'd turned eighteen it hadn't been much of a birthday at all. The DA was in hiding, his best mate was on the run, the Carrows were worse than ever. And Seamus received a letter telling him his father had been killed. It had been blunt and straight to the point: Seamus. Your Da has been killed. Death Eaters. So sorry. Can't say more here. Tá cion agam ort. Mam. It hadn't been a happy birthday.

They made a tradition of it after that. The Sixteenth of August. A meal in the café. A pink frosted cake. But he never forgot. She always received a breakfast, flowers and a homemade card. He never got too old for that.

Outside the sun was slowly dropping towards the horizon. Seamus knew he had to go. He had to go before it got dark. It wouldn't be right otherwise. He pulled his cloak from the hook by the door and set off.

It felt as though his legs were working automatically. Living on the edge of the town had its advantages and Seamus soon found himself on country lanes. It was immediately satisfying. The quite, hushed surroundings. The homeliness of the hedges, fields and birds comforted Seamus, in a way; it was like he was back at home. Real home.

As he walked his mind drifted. Fergus' wife had finally given birth… It was lovely really. New life now just offered so much hope… The recent events at Hogwarts still weighed heavily on Seamus but somehow the birth of Niamh signalled something new. The birth of a new life. A new beginning. He hoped so.

When he'd heard the name… It was incredibly special. Niamh. He hoped it meant something more. Something more he could look forward too… Seamus knew it would never be better. Not properly. But perhaps little Niamh could make things a little better…

Without even realising he'd reached it. He had to push hard on the gate, the grass was getting overgrown. But it was nice, the golden rushes and bright flowers dotted around. It was just right. Calming.

And there it was. Seamus stood and stared for a couple of seconds before kneeling down in the grass. It took him a while to take it in, but there it was, along with the Irish Blessing –

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.

Niamh Finnigan

August 16th 1954 – May 2nd 1998

Loving Mother, Sister and Friend

And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Seamus reached his hand out and gently stroked the top of the gravestone. It was warm in the setting sun.

"Happy Birthday Mam. Breithla Shona Dhuit"

A/N: This fic was written for the Reviews Lounges' 'Birthday Project', and, as such, can also be found as part of a collaboration from the RL profile page

Elle xx