The common room is quieter than usual. You’re curled up in the corner alcove with a book on your lap and a thick blanket draped over your shoulders.

Hermione sits beside you, her presence a rare occurrence in your common room. She tugs her hood further over her face whenever anyone new walks past. But no one bothers her; everyone knows she’s your friend.

“How old are you again?” Hermione asks casually.

You glance up from your book, smiling faintly. “I just turned 18… last week.”

The sentence echoes in the space.

From the nearby sofa, Mattheo looks up slowly. His smile drops. Draco, sitting beside him, turns his head sharply. Theodore, Regulus, and Lorenzo stop mid-move. Barty drops the quill he’d been spinning between his fingers.

“…You what?” Mattheo says, his voice low — like he already knows the answer but hopes he’s wrong.

You shift under your blanket. “I turned 18. Last week,” you repeat quietly.

Draco straightens slowly. “Last week?”

You nod.

“You’re joking,” Barty says. “That didn’t happen. I would’ve… we would’ve known.”

“You didn’t,” you say simply, the words soft but honest.

Regulus leans forward slowly, blinking like he's trying to catch up with reality. “You… didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t want to make it a big deal,” you say, hugging your knees to your chest.

Theodore exhales sharply. “But we should’ve known. We do know. We memorized each other's birthdays months ago.”

Lorenzo looks like someone just hit him. “You reminded me about mine three times. You planned the whole day.”

“I forgot,” Mattheo says, his voice hoarse. “Merlin, I forgot. I’m a complete—”

“We all did,” Draco cuts in, looking at you with a storm behind his eyes. “Every single one of us.”

“It’s fine,” you lie, giving a small smile. “It’s just a birthday.”

“No,” Tom says suddenly. You hadn’t even noticed him come in. He’s standing near the entrance, his arms crossed. “It’s not just a birthday.”

Barty runs a hand through his hair. “We’ve been idiots.”

“You matter,” Regulus says, his voice quiet, like he’s afraid to say it too loud. “You matter to us.”

“Okay,” Lorenzo says. “We can fix this. We will fix this. It’s not too late.”

“You can’t just undo forgetting something like this,” Theodore mutters. “But… we can try.”

“I’m calling an emergency celebration,” Barty announces. “Tonight. We party.”

“I’ll get decorations,” Mattheo says. “I swear you won’t recognize the room.”

“I’m making the cake,” Lorenzo adds. “A proper one. Your favorite.”

“I’m on music,” Barty says.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper, unsure how to even feel.

Tom walks over, kneeling in front of you. His voice is low, meant only for you. “Yes, we do. Not because we forgot… but because you didn’t deserve to be forgotten.”

They may have forgotten your birthday.

But tonight, they were going to make damn sure you never forgot how much you meant to them.