We know about the ten years of uncelebrated birthdays, of hangers and passed down socks, of dirt floor birthday cakes. But don’t forget there was another boy-who-lived: who spent ten years of being compared to parents who would never know him. Another boy-who-lived, spending birthdays in st. mungos closed wards and getting Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum wrappers from a mum who doesn’t even know its her boy, let alone her boy’s birthday. Another boy-who-lived, who at each birthday had family gather and take bets to see whether or not this was going to be the year he’d prove to be a wizard or a squib. Of the boy, who’s happiest birthday was the one that came with a letter telling him he was a wizard, and it was going to get better.