A/N Sorry this chapter is a bit late but the muse was a bit finicky over the past week. So I spent most of it reading other people's work and that was a nice change. I had time to catch up on a few good stories I had been putting on hold for a while. Inspiration finally struck after reading and here you are: a chapter on birthdays.

This prompt was actually sent to me some time ago by a reader: drugged-on-chocolate. Thank you for the prompt and sorry it took me a while to get the stories. I have been in a bittersweet writing mood lately and it transpires here as even the lighter stories are mixed with more serious emotions. Well, life, even on birthdays, is not always rainbows and unicorns, is it?

As always, thank you to everyone who is reading this story, and special thanks to people who take time to review. These little bits are the only feedback authors have to know whether their work is appreciated or not so reviews are always welcome.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter? Yes, well, not mine... Sigh!

Birthdays

Severus Snape turned the photo in his hand. He had to admire the Muggle technology that had permitted to take the picture and process it right away, an instant capture of happy memories. And memories were all he had left, weren't they?

He reminisced longingly of the day Lily had given her the photo. It had been early February, 1971. They had been sitting under a tree, hiding from that awful sister of hers and also his parents. Not that his parents would have cared about where he was.

Lily had been happy on that day, like she was on most days and he had been delighted to spend a few stolen moments with her, enjoying her infectious smile and escaping the stark reality of his life. She had shown him the beautiful scarf she was wearing.

"Look, Severus, this is what my mum knitted for me for my birthday. Touch it," she invited him as she took his hand and put it on the soft wool. "It's so soft, isn't it?"

He liked the feel of the wool under his fingers. It was soft indeed. But he enjoyed the soft touch of her warm hand on his even more. Nobody took his hand like that. A timid smile escaped his lips and he told her:

"Yes, it is."

She beamed at him and rummaged through the pockets of the heavy coat she was wearing. She retrieved what looked like a photograph.

"Look, it's a photo of me blowing my candles. It's one of these cameras where you take the photo, and then, just like magic, the photo comes out."

He looked at the photo. He saw Lily, her long red hair coming as fiery curtains on each side of her head as she bent to blow the eleven candles on what looked like a homemade cake. He had a sudden longing that he could have been at the party.

"You know it's not magic. Magic photos move," he said somewhat more forcefully than he intended to.

Lily took a look at him and he saw her beautiful green eyes drill into him perceptively.

"They didn't celebrate your birthday, did they?"

He didn't answer. His parents probably wished the day of his birth had never happened, especially his awful Muggle father. Severus didn't need to tell Lily she was the only person who had wished him a happy birthday.

"I am sorry, Severus," she told him softly and there was real empathy in her voice and eyes, but most important to him, no pity. "Would you like the photo?" she asked him spontaneously.

"You don't mind?" he replied gratefully.

"No, I have many others," she replied gently as she handed him the photo.

A few days later, she had met him under the same tree and had some store bought biscuits and candles with her. She told him:

"Happy belated birthday, Severus."

She sang happy birthday to him and they had fun trying to blow candles that kept lighting back right away. He knew she was doing that for him.

She had wished him happy birthday every year since, except today. She hadn't talked to him since May of the previous year, since that dreadful incident where he had called her a Mudblood and the awful row they had had afterward. And she wouldn't today either, even if it was his birthday, he thought bitterly as he looked at the pretty and happy red-haired eleven-year-old girl blowing candles on the old Muggle photo. Nobody would.

"And here is the cake!" Molly announced triumphantly as she had an enormous owl-shaped cake float into the large dining-room of Aunt Muriel's house.

"An owl, Mum?" George asked.

"Yes, Mum. You did a snitch for Harry last year. Couldn't you do a Skiving Snackbox or an Extendable Ear for us?" chimed Fred.

"I think you two have to be much more grateful for owls these days than any of the products you sell," she told them with a silencing smile. Fred and George knew their mother was definitely aware of the owl order business they ran from Muriel's house now that they had had to close their shop.

"What are they going on about?" asked Muriel irritably. "Frederick, George, you mother made a cake for your birthday. Even if it is dreadful-looking, shouldn't you two brats be thankful?"

"Can we spike the old bat's slice of cake?" Fred asked George under his breath.

"Tempting," George agreed.

Molly was looking at her old Aunt with daggers in her eyes. It was blatant she didn't enjoy her stay at the old woman's house and that she missed her own home.

"Well, Muriel now, I did with what I could find in your kitchen. Frankly, it was a miracle I could produce such a cake with what was there. Now, Arthur, dear, would you mind fetching some candles? Oh, how I wish Charlie, Ron and Bill could be with us." And Percy she thought to herself.

"Mum, Charlie is fine in Romania. He owled you on our birthday, not us," Fred started.

"And Bill came here and he told us Ron, Harry, and Hermione are all right and with Fleur and him at Shell Cottage," George finished.

Ginny was quiet. Having heard that Harry and Hermione, and, yes, even Ron, were okay and safe at Shell Cottage had been a huge relief. She actually would have much rather be in her older brother's house than at old barmy Aunt Muriel's house. She was sure that was everyone's feeling there as Aunt Muriel was anything but a gracious host. Still the old bat did open her very large house for them and even seemed to have a kick out of it. She had muttered that she could start living dangerously now that she was one hundred and eight, even if it meant putting up with an army of red-haired brats.

As she did for each birthday, Molly got her photo album out. "Look at the pair of you," she said with misty eyes, showing a photo of herself, twenty years younger, holding two pale, rather small babies with tufts of light ginger hair.

"Look, George, we were identical," Fred joked.

"Yes, and you were twice harder to birth. Twenty hours it took me," Molly reminisced sentimentally.

"Of for Merlin's sake, Molly, you had already had three children, you should have known what to do by the time these two came along," Muriel told her. "Actually, you should have known by then how not to have any more. Yet, you went on after these two and had Ronald and Ginevra."

Molly glared at her.

"Here we go again, George muttered to Fred, half expecting his mother to explode at her aunt. But Arthur who was coming back to the table with candles announced very diplomatically:

"And we love all of them. And look at Fred and George," he said proudly "Nobody can get a laugh out of people like they can. Merlin knows we can use that right now. Happy birthday, sons!"

"Cheers, Dad," Fred and George told him as one voice.

"We need to find a way of getting Muriel out of the room before your mother hexes her," Arthur whispered in a low voice to Ginny who was next to him.

"I'll take care of it," Ginny whispered back and then louder: "Aunt Muriel, would you fancy another glass of oak-matured mead?"

"Yes, Ginevra, give me more mead before you lot drink all of it," Aunt Muriel demanded.

Ginny poured a glass of mead and handed it to Aunt Muriel who drank it greedily.

Thirty seconds later, they saw that Aunt Muriel had fallen asleep, snoring loudly.

"Ah, well, that's convenient, isn't i? Now, we can celebrate," Molly said and she showed the photo again.

"Mum, you know we are twenty today, right?" George asked her as he gently put an arm around Molly's shoulders.

She smiled at him at told him softly:

"George, I do know. Remember, twenty hours...

"Right, right. I don't need any more details," Fred interrupted her as he got on her other side and also put an arm around her.

That made Molly laugh and she finally said:

"You will always be my little twin babies."

"Yes, we were good looking even as babes in nappies. Bill has nothing on us," George added cheekily.

"I love you both," Molly said as she took one last look at the photo. She then put the photo album back on the table and put an arm around each of them. They both kissed her on the cheek at the same time and said simultaneously.

"Thank you Mum, we love you too."

They then started singing. Ginny admitted she had put some Sleeping Draught in Muriel's drink so the five Weasleys could celebrate the twins' birthday. Her brothers applauded while her father chuckled lightly and her mother feigned to disapprove. They enjoyed the delicious owl-shaped cake that, thanks to Molly's talent, tasted excellent just like anything she cooked. And they drank a fair amount of butterbeer and finished Aunt Muriel's excellent oak-matured mead. For the first time in a while, they laughed.

No-one knew it was the last birthday George and Fred would celebrate together.

Hermione Apparated to the door of her house and slowly unlocked it. She was home early and wondered if Ron would be home as his schedule was a lot more unpredictable than hers. The last thing she wanted to do was to come home to an empty home, especially not on her birthday, her fortieth one she remembered depressingly.

The minute she opened the door, she was greeted by her old Crookshanks. The feline was getting advanced in age and would probably be dead if he hadn't been part Kneazle. She gently petted his ginger fur while he purred contently. But it was human ginger hair she longed for. She had got used to Rose being at Hogwarts over the two previous years but sending her sweet little boy there too barely two weeks before had been heart-wrenching. Christmas break was a long way away and her house felt empty.

She heard a familiar voice that brought the edge of a grin on her face.

"Hi, Love, you're home," Ron said as he came to greet her from the kitchen.

She then remembered he had not bothered wishing her a happy birthday that morning as he had kissed her good bye. Did he even remember it was her birthday?

He bent toward her to kiss her and she slightly turned her head so the kiss was only perfunctory. Ron understood at once. He hadn't wished her a happy birthday yet because he wanted to surprise her but he realised she was getting into a right mood, probably spoiling for a row... and he had other plans for them for that evening.

"Oi, lunatic wife of mine, can you give me a proper kiss?" he started. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, that didn't come out properly," he corrected himself promptly.

Hermione glared at him. She was in a poor mood and he was not helping at the moment.

"All right, Love. Let's try this again. Happy birthday and ... look."

He took her hand and dragged her in the kitchen where he had set up the table for a romantic dinner, with wine and something delicious looking and smelling.

"Yes, before you ask, Mum sent the food along with her love and happy birthday wishes as well. And look, I have something for you."

She felt her anger and bad mood dissipate and her heart slowly melt. She took the envelope he was holding out to her. She recognised the Hogwarts envelope and Rose's neat script. She opened and saw a card from both Rose and Hugo and a photo of her two children in their Gryffindor robes, grinning giddily and singing happy birthday for their mother.

"We had planned that before they left for Hogwarts, the kids and I did. Rose owled it to me this morning. I thought you would like the photo for your birthday."

Her eyes were now swimming with tears. That was the sweetest and best birthday present she could have asked for. She let the tears fall and engulfed Ron in a tight hug.

"So, does it mean I can have a real kiss now?" he cheeked.

She let a watery laugh and kissed him full on the mouth, almost making him trip.

"I miss them too," he told her seriously when they broke apart for air.

He then added:

"See, Love, there are plenty of things we can do now that they are at Hogwarts. We can have romantic dinners (as long as Mum cooks), or just have bacon sandwiches and chocolate frogs for breakfast. We can shag in the kitchen, or the living room, or just walk around the house starkers. See, plenty of good sides."

"I don't think bacon sandwiches and chocolate frogs make a good breakfast," she told him in a somewhat scolding tone.

She then gave him a very naughty smile and added:

"But I like your other ideas. How shall we celebrate my birthday tonight? Kitchen? Living room? Both?"

As she saw Ron's face slowly split in an approving grin, she thought she would have a very nice birthday after all.

A/N

The Snape/Lily scene was something that popped randomly in my head as I was reading something about the friendship that had existed between the two of them. It somehow seemed to fit with what we saw of their relationship before they went to Hogwarts. As for Aunt Muriel being drugged into a sleeping coma by Ginny, I couldn't help myself. Sure, Fred and George sound more like the kind who would do this but Ginny has that streak in her too and Aunt Muriel does sound like a right piece of work in the books. As for Ron and Hermione, it just sounded like Ron to see the silver lining in having both kids at school.

Please leave me a review to let me know what you think. I need to think of the next theme now (debating between mother and chocolate...)