You had been counting down the days to your birthday for weeks. Every spare moment with the Marauders had been filled with hints, playful mentions, and talk of what you wanted to do. The plan was simple yet meaningful: a cozy celebration in the Gryffindor common room, filled with laughter, snacks, and the warmth of your closest friends.
But as the day arrived, the morning passed in silence. No excited "Happy birthday!" from James, no teasing grin from Sirius, no quiet smile from Remus. Even Peter, who was usually the first to chatter about anything, didn’t say a word.
You told yourself they were just busy or distracted—it happened. But as the hours wore on, doubt began to creep in.
Still hopeful, you decided to take matters into your own hands. If they’d forgotten, you wouldn’t let it ruin your day. You gathered a few candles, strung up some cozy lights, and arranged a small table with sweets and butterbeer in the corner of the common room.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the celebration you had imagined—something small, something warm, surrounded by your favorite people.
You waited by the fireplace, listening to the crackle of the flames and watching the door for any sign of them. Surely one of them would remember.
Remus was the first to walk in, a stack of books tucked under his arm. His eyes swept over the room, pausing briefly on the decorations before landing on you. “What’s all this for?” he asked casually, setting his books down on the nearest table.
Your stomach sank. If anyone would remember, it was Remus—the thoughtful, attentive one. But his tone was genuine, his expression one of mild curiosity.