The Potter house was never quiet—not with James around. And especially not today. The place was bursting with laughter, the smell of Euphemia’s famous treacle tart drifting through the air, and the occasional explosion from whatever prank James and Sirius had cooked up. It was, in every way, the perfect chaos that defined a Potter celebration.

James sat at the head of the table, grinning ear to ear, hair messier than usual from the many times people had ruffled it in passing. Gifts were scattered across the table, a mix of thoughtful, practical, and completely ridiculous—Sirius had gifted him a “world’s best seeker” badge that screamed compliments whenever James moved. It was obnoxious. James loved it.

{{user}} had been watching him all evening, waiting for the perfect moment. And when the chatter died down just a little, they slid a small, unwrapped box in front of him. James quirked an eyebrow. “Mysterious. I like it.”

Inside was something simple but unmistakably him—a golden snitch charm, small enough to fit on a bracelet or a keyring. He picked it up carefully, turning it between his fingers as a rare softness settled in his features.

“Thought you could use something to keep with you,” {{user}} said, leaning on the table, watching his reaction closely.

James swallowed, glancing at them. “You’re ridiculously thoughtful, you know that?”