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TBD, you rock my socks
Today is Sirius's Birthday
He is three years old. It is a cold morning at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
After putting on his clothes, Sirius rushes from his room and plows down the stairs. After running past the house-elf heads mounted on the wall, he opens the door to the kitchen and dashes down the stairs.
He enters the kitchen. His family is sitting at the table in silence. His father reads the Daily Prophet while his mother feeds his baby brother, Regulus, baby food.
"My Birthday!" Sirius yells to his parents. "Birthday, birthday, BIRTHDAY!"
His parents look at him, smile briefly, and give a dull, "Happy Birthday, Sirius," and continue reading and feeding.
"Presents?" Sirius asks to his father.
His father continues to read his newspaper. "Present time is later Sirius," he says, not looking at him.
Sirius turns to his mother. "Cake?" he asks her.
"I still have to bake the cake sweetie," she tells him as Regulus babbles and giggles from his high chair.
Sirius looks around the table before he sits at the table. His mother notices his gloomy face and sighs. "I suppose it is your birthday," she says.
She takes out her wand and waves it. In front of Sirius a magnificent breakfast appears. It's a wonderful dish of waffles and pancakes. There are heaps of juicy bacon and a plate of scrambled eggs. His mother flicks her wand twice and a glass of milk and a glass of orange juice appears. She waves her wand again and the syrup on his pancakes swirls and forms the words "Happy Birthday Sirius!" on his pancakes.
Sirius smiles and engulfs his pancakes while his parents pay no attention.
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