When he got back to his desk, he saw the mounds upon mounds of paperwork that he had to finish by the time he got off work. Harry didn't want to do it just yet. He reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a favourite book of his. "Happy birthday to me." He whispered to himself.

Harry leaned back in his chair and began reading where he left off. Although his eyes were scanning the page and he was still flipping through the book, his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help but think that he did something wrong. What other reason would there be that all his friends and co-workers were refusing to look at him and acting suspicious towards him?

He shook his head briefly and concentrated his mind back to his book. There was a knock at the door and in walked...