Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

Anniversary Pancakes

A/N: Harry's POV.

I was in love with her. After six blissful years of marriage, I was still as much in love with her as I'd been the day we said "I do."

I woke up before she did, thinking about the night we'd shared. I'd made love to her three times, each time bringing her to the brink as she called out my name. Then we'd laid in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings, exchanging confirmations of our everlasting love. The sun was just starting to rise, a blueish glow streaming through the curtains. I laid in bed watching her for a good ten minutes, her chest rising and falling as puffs of breaths escaped her lips. She was so beautiful, it took all the strength I had not to wake her up with a gentle kiss. But I wanted to let her sleep. Today was our anniversary, and I had plans.

I sauntered into the kitchen squinting my eyes when I flipped the switch, light illuminating the granite countertops. I started the coffee brewing, knowing that's the first thing my love likes when she wakes up. Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out the eggs, milk, cheese, spinach and bacon. I'd just finished whisking the eggs in a bowl when I heard the pitter patter of little feet on the hardwood floor.

"Morning, Daddy," my little girl said softly as she appeared around the corner, her tiny fist rubbing her eye.

"Morning, princess, what are you doin' up so early?"

She merely shrugged before reaching her arms out to me for a hug. I set the bowl down on the counter and lifted her into my arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

"Whatcha makin'?" she asked me.

"An omelet," I replied. "For your mum."

"What's a omnet?"

I giggled as her mispronunciation. "Omelet. It's eggs with stuff in it."

My daughter made a face, showing me she did not approve. I shook my head and set her down on the nearby stool to watch me. I got the first pan ready for the bacon.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," I heard behind me as the bacon started to sizzle.

"What would you like to eat, love?"

"Pancakes."

I chuckled. "I don't think I know how to make those all by myself. Can you help me?"

"Uh huh!"

I flipped the bacon over before turning to my little girl.

"Will you get me a bowl from under there?" I pointed to the cabinet next to her.

"Okay."

She hopped off her stool, eagerly searching for the bowl she knew her mum had used to made pancakes in before. When she came up with it in her little hands, a satisfied grin on her face, she handed it to me.

"Here you go, Daddy."

"Alright monkey," I said. "First I need some flour. Do you know where that is?"

Her little arm immediately shot out across the counter, her finger pointing to a canister.

"In there?" I raised a brow, teasing her. "You sure?"

"Uh huh," she nodded. "The big one is flour."

I grabbed the large canister and lifted the lid, widening my eyes.

"What do ya know! There's flour in here!"

My daughter giggled, covering her mouth.

I winked at her, dropping some of the flour into the bowl. Then I added baking powder, salt and sugar.