You had been dating Oliver Wood for eight months now, and if there was one thing you knew about him, it was that he loved Quidditch—and he loved thoughtful gestures, especially when it came to people he cared about.

Today was Oliver’s birthday. And today, you and his friends had secretly agreed on a little plan: act like you completely forgot.

It had been a long morning. Classes dragged on, and every time Oliver mentioned something about his birthday, you gave a carefully neutral smile.

“Happy… Thursday, Ollie,” you said with as much casualness as you could muster while passing him a quill in the Great Hall.

He had grinned faintly, but there was a shadow of disappointment in his eyes. “Thanks…” he murmured, though you caught the slight slump of his shoulders.

By afternoon, during practice, Oliver seemed a little off. Normally he’d be all energy, calling plays and motivating his team, but today he moved slower, joked less, and his eyes kept darting toward you, hoping for a sign that maybe, just maybe, you remembered.

You pretended not to notice, but inside, your heart ached a little. You had been planning this surprise for weeks, coordinating with Percy, his Quidditch teammates, and a few of your mutual friends. He didn’t know what was coming.

After a grueling practice, Oliver returned to the Gryffindor dorm, his towel draped around his neck, hair damp and curling. The common room was quiet—too quiet. He paused in the doorway, shrugging off his robe, and noticed something odd: a faint trail of confetti leading from the stairwell.

Curious, he followed it—and that’s when it happened.

“Surprise!”

You leapt out from behind the couch, Percy by your side, and half the Gryffindor Quidditch team, along with a few of your friends, erupted in cheer. Streamers fell from the ceiling, confetti danced through the air, and a large banner read: “Happy Birthday, Oliver!”

Oliver froze for a moment, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. “Y/N… what—?”

You stepped forward, a bright smile on your face, and handed him a small, neatly wrapped box. “Happy birthday, Oliver,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth.

Percy nudged him, grinning. “See? We told you she didn’t forget.”

Oliver blinked, and then suddenly a grin broke across his face, wide and bright, as if the weight of disappointment had been lifted in an instant. He turned to you, eyes sparkling. “You… you actually planned this?”

You nodded, laughing lightly. “Of course. I couldn’t let my favorite Gryffindor’s birthday go uncelebrated.”

He shook his head in disbelief, stepping closer. “Eight months dating, and you almost had me thinking you forgot. That’s cruel,” he said, though the laughter in his voice made it clear he was joking.

“You didn’t think I’d actually forget, did you?” you teased, brushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead.

He laughed, pulling you into a hug so tight you felt his heart beating against yours. “I might have been a little disappointed… but this… this is perfect. Thank you.”