TBAY--well, to be honest, blatant fanfic. So sue me.

[serenadust]

--- In HPFGU-OTChatter at y..., "lupinesque" <lupinesque at y...> wrote:
> The Even Worse than the Worst Birthday
> 
> Harry woke with a start, his left earlobe throbbing.  "It only 
does 
> that on one day of the year," he thought.  He rolled over, put his 
> glasses on upside down, and squinted at the luminous face of his 
> alarm clock.  His stomach would have given a funny jolt, but tired 
of 
> being responsible for all of Harry's emotional reactions, it had 
left 
> for a week in Majorca.  It was ten minutes after midnight: his 
> birthday.
> 
> He got up and stretched.  Suddenly he heard a swoosh as if a 
thousand 
> Nike-footed Michael Jordans were outside his window and he dived 
> under the bed just in time to avoid being decapitated by dozens of 
> outstretched wings.  Owls were landing everywhere--on the bed, on 
the 
> desk, inside the wardrobe.  One was trying to pry up the loose 
> floorboard where he usually hid his Jelly Slugs from Dudley, and 
> another, which appeared to be carrying leaflets and wearing a 
sweater 
> emblazoned with "Post-Owls Unite for Freedom!", was picking at the 
> lock of Hedwig's cage with its beak.  Harry swatted ineffectually 
at 
> the latter and informed the former, "There's nothing in there but 
> Charms homework."  Then he surveyed the scene.
> 
> Most of the owls, which now stood staring at him with their 
> unblinking eyes, had letters or packages tied to their legs.  He 
> began untying them.  "Ron Weasley . . . Hermione Granger . . . 
> Parvati Patil . . . Daedalus Diggle . . . Vincent Crabbe?"  It 
seemed 
> as if everyone he knew had sent him something for his birthday.  
> Harry tore open wrapping after wrapping, peered at one card after 
> another, growing more and more frantic.  Surely, in all these 
piles 
> of gifts, there had to be . . .
> 
> But no.  What he really wanted for his birthday wasn't there.  Not 
> one package contained the telltale heft of a hardbound book; not 
one 
> card bore the three magical initials that would mean he could 
return 
> for his longed-for fifth year of school.
> 
> "Come on, Jo," he whispered miserably into his pillow.  "Let me go 
> back to Hogwarts.  I'm twenty-two years old!"
> 

Congratulations Amy!  Finally a fanfic even I can enjoy. I 
particularly enjoy the bit about Harry's overworked stomach taking 
off for Majorca for what I'm sure is a much needed rest.
Now, if only JKR could read this.....

Jo Serenadust