Work Text:
March 10, 1979
Birthdays were quite spectacular events for the Marauders.
After Sirius found out exactly what birthdays entailed, he made sure everyone (and I do mean everyone) at Hogwarts knew whose birthday it was. Well, those fortunate enough to be in the Gryffindor house anyways. Usually, the announcement was rather small, ranging from a floating crown reading ‘Birthday Girl’, to a trailing banner of ‘Out of my way peasants, it’s my freaking birthday’. (Alice got that banner every year and always proudly strut around the castle to show it off. Lily got it once in sixth year and although she vehemently denied all emotion towards it, she walked with a little extra pep in her step that day.)
For those in the Slytherin house, the Marauders implemented a search of questionable legality to acquiring all their birthdays, and were not quite so kind with their announcements. Things ranged from ‘Greasiest Git in England Birthday Boy’, and ‘If it looks like I have a stick up my arse, it’s because I do, and it’s made of solid gold. Ps: it’s my birthday’.
Needless to say, everyone in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were extremely grateful that the Marauders didn’t bother with their birthdays.
Marauder birthdays, well, those were some of the most spectacular events in school. McGonagall both looked forward to and dreaded breakfast on those days. They were always the most extravagant announcements, but ever since the Exploding Glitter Balloons of 1974, she erred on the side of caution and spent the duration of breakfast holding her wand at the ready for the next four years.
So when Remus’s alarm went off at exactly 7:53 a.m. on that Saturday morning, he wasn’t surprised in the least to see Sirius waltz into the room, precariously balancing a tray in one hand and a large bouquet of balloons in the other.
“Please tell me those aren’t going to explode glitter on me in thirty seconds.” Remus croaked out groggily.
“No worries, love, I’m saving those for Prongs’s birthday. He won’t know what hit him.”
Breakfast was French toast (no surprises there), Canadian maple syrup (a little surprise there, probably pilfered from Lily’s fridge), and birthday cuddles.
In spite of Sirius’s obnoxious protests, Remus insisted on going into work.
“It’s Saturday, Pads, you know how busy Winnie’s shop gets on Saturdays.”
“But Moony! You’re supposed to spend the whole day with me! You’re already 19, we’re not getting any younger here.” Sirius pouted as Remus put on his winter coat (even though it wasn’t all that cold anymore). His grey eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh! I know! What if I—”
“No.”
“But I could—”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what—”
“I’ve been your friend for eight years, and your boyfriend for two months. I know exactly what you’re thinking. No.” Remus leaned down and kissed his boyfriend’s scowling pout. “I’ll be back by four. I promise.”
3:19 p.m.
Remus eyed the clock suspiciously. Was his boyfriend actually going to let him finish his shift in peace?
A lot brassy tune rang out in the shop.
“MESSR PRONGS IS REQUESTING THAT MESSR MOONY FINISH WORK EARLY.”
Nope. The answer was nope.
“MESSR WORMTAIL WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY BEG MESSR MOONY TO FINISH WORK EARLY.”
“THE FUTURE MISSUS PRONGS WOULD STRONGLY ENCOURAGE MESSR MOONY TO LEAVE WORK AT ONCE SO HIS ANNOYING BOYFRIEND WILL STOP BEING A COMPLETE AND UTTER WHINY TOSSER.”
“Oi Evans! That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Sod off, I was improvising.”
Remus banged his head against the counter a few times. It was a sheer miracle there was no one else in the shop.
“For heavens sake, Remus, go enjoy your birthday.” Winnie wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.
“MESSR MOONY HAS BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION, AND WILL BEGRUDGINGLY LEAVE WORK EARLY. MESSR MOONY HOPES THAT MESSRS PRONGS, PADFOOT, AND WORMTAIL, AND THE FUTURE MISSUS PRONGS KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING.”
Four all too familiar faces finally poked around the bookshelves.
“Come on then! I’ve got something to show you.” Sirius said, manhandling Remus into his coat. He proceeded to drag his boyfriend out by the ends of his scarf.
*Some time later*
‘Something’ was actually a small hall, where many Hogwarts graduates and fellow Aurors-in-training congregated in hopes of free food, drinks, good company, and birthday cake. Not necessarily in that order.
They all managed to perfectly execute a jaunty “Surprise!” upon Remus entering. He was very surprised.
After everyone was stuffed with curry, minced pies, and a rather—er—interesting pizza, Remus went through all the presents people brought.
There were the usual bars of chocolates, old books, new books, several jumpers (Sirius grabbed the jumper Dorcas gave him and immediately claimed it for himself) and a hefty supply of sugar quills.
Then there was Sirius’s present.
Or presents rather.
“This one first!” Sirius enthusiastically shoved the carefully wrapped (if badly disguised) bar of Honeyduke’s finest chocolate.
“Now this one!”
“Oh, a French-English dictionary?” At least it was better disguised. If not completely random. Remus flipped through the pages a bit. Sirius had already taken the liberty of highlighting ‘helpful’ words. This mostly consisted of food, first aid, jumper related words, and swears. “Huh, so you say anything related to the church in an aggressive manner and it becomes a curse?”
Sirius grinned from ear to ear. “It’s bloody fantastic, I’ll help with your pronunciation, no worries mate. Now this one!”
As Remus unwrapped the third (and flimsiest) present, he couldn’t help but wonder how exactly Sirius had managed to obtain a passport for him without him actually being there. “Padfoot, did you use a Polyjuice Potion?”
“Moony, you know that’s illegal, and there are far too many Aurors here for me to truthfully answer that. Last one!”
While Remus was busy carefully opening the fourth and final present (a large envelope heavily decorated in muggle stickers, glitter glue, and stamps), Lily laughed as she flipped through the dictionary.
“Black, what a barmy present! I mean really, the chocolate and passport I could see, but why’d you get him a dicti—” Lily’s bright green eyes suddenly widened and she whirled around to her fiancé. “James. James, did you tell Black about Montreal?”
Remus stared at the three tickets to Montreal he just retrieved from their glittery home.
“Er—” James rather looked like he wanted to escape out of the window. If only the Prewett twins weren’t purposefully blocking the exit. “Well, I—I may have mentioned it briefly… Don’t give me that look! You know how he gets when he’s not in on a secret!”
“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER!”
“And Evans, my dear future sister-in-law, you should know I made SURE to that family vacations are ineligible for ‘Sirius Free Day’ coupons, so don’t even think about it.”
“But why’re there three?” Remus held them up, as if still trying to figure out how Sirius had managed something so incredibly muggle. Sarah must’ve been heavily involved in all of this.
“You, me, and Wormy of course!”
Peter absolutely lit up, scrambling for his diary to mark the occasion.
Remus couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, Merlin help any poor Canadians who come across us.”