Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns HP, I'm just playing in her world.

A/N: Written for the 'Forgotten Birthday' challenge. I checked it myself and I think I fixed all the mistakes, but if there are any typos, forgive me. Enjoy. ;D

I can't believe this. They forgot my bloody birthday.

Then again, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. Mum just had to give birth to me on the same day the final battle took place, didn't she? Everyone's so wrapped up in celebrating that, they forget that it's my twentieth bloody birthday. I should start from the beginning, I suppose.

"Hey, Mum," I said as I walked into the kitchen, running a brush through my silvery-blonde hair. "Where's Dad?"

"Hm? Oh, he vent to 'ze Burrow to 'elp your Uncle 'Arry."

"With what?"

"'Ze preparations for 'ze Final Battle Anniversary party, o'courze."

"Right. Yeah. Of course," I mumbled, taking a seat at the table.

"Did you forget what day it was?" Mother asked.

"No, Mother, I didn't." Now hurry up and wish me a bloody happy birthday! It's not every day you turn twenty.

A set of thundering footsteps announced the upcoming presence of Louis, my fifteen year old brother. He had been at Hogwarts but the kids were allowed to go home for a couple of days to celebrate with their families.

"Mornin', Mum, Victoire."

"Do you know what day it is?" I asked hopefully.

"The anniversary of the final battle. Duh."

"Of course," I mumbled.

When Dominique came downstairs fifteen minutes later, I repeated the question, only to receive the same answer. Needless to say, I was pretty angry.

"Bloody family forgetting my bloody birthday because of the bloody final battle, the bloody retards, I bloody hate the lot of them," I muttered under my breath as I got dressed. Normally, on my birthday I would spend hours getting ready and making myself look nice, but I was too angry and hurt to bother putting in the effort. So I threw on an old pair of jeans and the first top I could get my hands on – a mint-green blouse.

Two hours later, I found myself at the Burrow, where the adults were making last minute arrangements for the celebration. I sat in a quiet corner and cracked open one of Aunt Hermione's books. I'm not a huge fan of reading like Dominique or Rose, I read when I need a distraction and escape from reality. It was a Muggle romance novel, to my great surprise … I never saw Aunt Hermione as the kind of person to get sucked into all that romance pish posh that all the girls squeal and freak out about. It was sickening, it really was, but I continued reading, rolling my eyes and snorting at every other sentence. I finished it within an hour and began to read another book.

"Wow, something must be wrong with dear Victoire. That's the second book she's picked up since she arrived at the house," a smooth voice said, amusement lacing it's every word.

I looked up and offered a small smile at Uncle Charlie. I inherited his passion for dragons, and we'd spent hours upon hours talking about the different breeds. They fascinated me, dragons, they're so different and wild. I don't know why, I just got sucked in by their beauty. Mum nearly cried when she found out, called them ugly beasts. Dad laughed and jokingly told me I must be Uncle Charlie's son, not his.

"Hey," I sighed.

"What's up?"

"It's the second of May," I offered.

"And your point is?"

I sighed, "Never mind. It doesn't matter." Hell, yes it does. "I'm going to … go outside."

"Okay, then, see you later, Vic."

"Yeah, see you later."

As I walked around the garden, I tried desperately not to cry. Uncle Charlie was like my best friend of the family, I was closest to him … and even hehad forgotten in the excitement. Something grabbed my leg, and I looked down to see one of the gnomes clutching it. I tried to shake it off but it wouldn't let go, so I done the only thing a girl could do in this situation … I picked it up, spun it round and threw it over the hedge. There's nothing like a bit of de-gnoming on your birthday … Merlin, I'm pathetic.

As the gnomes crawled out of their holes to see what was going on (they're incredibly stupid), I'd pick them up by the ankles, give them a spin and dispose of them over the hedge. It actually helped release a lot of my anger, and Grandma Molly would be pleased to see me helping out with the chores – I always used to find a way out of them.

"Victoire, what in the world are you doing?"

"Huh?" I spun around to see my bushy-haired aunt there, hands on hips. "Oh, de-gnoming a bit ..."

"Has hell frozen over?" she teased.

"Yeah, you could say that," I murmured, throwing another gnome away.

"What's wrong, Sweetie?" she asked, walked up to me and pulling me into a hug.

"It's the second of May."

"What's so bad about that? You aren't happy about Voldemort's demise?"

"Argh!" I exclaimed, pushing away from her, leaving her very shocked. "And you call yourselves my family!"

I ran. I don't know why I broke like that, but I did. I ran out of the gate, into the countryside. I just ran, desperate to get away from the people who, although they called themselves my family, couldn't remember when I was born. They didn't care enough, that was their problem. They cared about the death of some evil guy more than they did their own family. Disgusting.

I didn't get very far, I'm not exactly the athletic type, but I was far enough that I could only see the chimney of the Burrow. I collapsed to the ground as tears began to fall, pouring down my cheeks as loud sobs escaped my lips. I buried my face in my hands and just sat there, releasing all my anger and hurt into my cries. No one came to find me for hours. The sky started to darken as evening crawled around, and I fled to some nearby trees, sitting just inside the opening of the forest. I lent against a tree trunk, running a hand through my hair as the tears refused to stop.

I heard footsteps and prayed to Merlin that it was just my imagination. No such luck.

"Victoire, everyone's freaking out back there," came a breathless, male voice.

"Get lost, Lupin," I hissed.

"No," he said stubbornly, sitting down beside me and wrapping an arm around me, pulling me into him. "I would say happy birthday, but I don't think yours has been very happy, eh?"

"You remembered?" I asked incredulously, drawing back to look at the blue-haired boy with wide eyes.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, we're not exactly the best of friends. Even the Weasleys didn't remember."

"You serious? Is that why you ran off?"

I nodded, leaning into him again. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Remembering."

"Would you like a birthday present?" he asked, with a teasing tone in his voice.

"Well, if you've gotten one, why would you ask if I'd like one?"

"I'll take that as a yes."

And the next thing I knew, his lips were pressed against mine, moving hungrily and passionately. Barely waiting a heartbeat, I responded to the kiss, moving my lips with equal passion. His hands roamed my back, arms and stomach, leaving a burning trail on my skin. My own hands latched around his neck, stopping him from pulling away if he tried. His tongue ran along my lip, asking for entrance. Unable to control myself, my mouth opened, accepting him.

"Bloody hell," I whispered breathlessly as our lips disconnected. He looked at me nervously, and I shot him a grin. "That was the best birthday present ever, Teddy."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

A silence settled between us as our breathing slowly returned to normal. It wasn't an awkward silence that begs to be broken but you can never get the guts to break it. It wasn't a tension-filled silence that anticipates some sort of huge emotional rage or outburst. It was a comfortable silence, shared between two people who care for each other but can find no words to say it. Both of us were grinning like fools, just looking at each other.

Sure, my twentieth birthday wasn't fantastic. I'm not going to tell you it was. But, hey, it brightened up.

A/N: Like Victoire's birthday, I don't think this is all that fantastic. But, it's better than I thought it would be (I had real trouble with the conversation between Vic and Teddy, I considered choosing a different pairing. I sat there for forty-five minutes, writing and deleting, writing and deleting - it always sounded too forced. So, I hope this is alright...).

Thanks for reading.
Would it be too much to ask for a review?
Even if I said 'Pretty Please With a Teddy Lupin and a Life's Supply of Honeydukes Finest Chocolate on Top'?

Signed,
Watcher x