Imagine Fred Weasley being the only one to remember your birthday.
You liked muggle movies enough, they were entertaining and there seemed to be a whole plethora of them, so many different stories. But you hardly expected your birthday to end up like one of your favorite ones. You were currently Molly Ringwald, and this was Sixteen Candles.
It had felt like a joke at first. When you woke up alone in your dorm, everyone else having gone down to breakfast without waking you. Maybe they let you sleep in for your birthday? You put on your uniform and went down to the Great Hall and went to your usual seat with Katie and Angelina, but both of them just kept talking Quidditch. The only time they acknowledged you was when you asked if they wanted anymore of the toast on the rack.
A joke. It had to be. You had looked down towards the Weasley twins and caught Fred’s eye. He shot you a wink. Of course it was his doing. Had to be.
Classes - your friends had the excuse of McGonagall breathing down their necks. But then nothing happened at lunch. Quidditch talk. Laughing about something that had happened to Oliver the year before. You laughed along with them, waiting for the ball to drop. But it didn’t. Another afternoon of classes. Still nothing. They really forgot your birthday. All of them. Not even a letter from your parents.
Dinner. You looked at everyone expectantly. Please, you were praying. You didn’t want to have to bring it up and make everything awkward. Please just let someone else remember so that you could claim maybe you forgot as well and all of the tension could be lifted.
Dinner turned into dessert. Grumpily, you grabbed some putting and started to put it on your plate when it was yanked out from underneath you. You looked up to yell at whoever was stealing your dessert to see Fred Weasley standing there, bit of a grin, and he set a cupcake with a birthday candle in front of you. “Make a wish then, birthday y/g.”
That’s when people started to look at each other with horror. They were now remembering that they had forgotten. But Fred hadn’t. You didn’t even remind him. “Is the candle going to go blow up if I blow it?” You asked, suspiciously.
“Nope.”
“Is something going to pop out?”
“It’s just a regular cupcake, y/n. Just blow out the candle.”
“Is this one of your weird products? Because I swear, Weasley, if something happens - “
“Bloody hell,” Fred said, leaning over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel his cheek brush against yours, and blew it out himself. Nothing happened. He then lit it again with the tip of his wand. Against your better judgement, you thought for a moment of a wish, and then blew out the little flame. Nothing happened. Just a little tendril of smoke and applauce from your friends.
And your wish came true. Fred didn’t back away right away, but rather gave you a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the back and a little “Happy birthday, luv,” before going to sit with his brother.
Requested by: Anonymous
