As a general rule, Neville hated his birthday. As a kid, he didn't exactly have "friends", so the people who frequented his parties were relatives he hated and stared expectantly at him to perform some great feat of accidental magic. When he didn't, he got to deal with their overwhelming and crushing disappointment, which what kid didn't love spending their birthday knowing they were a total failure?

To make matters worse, the morning of his birthday would be spent visiting his parents at St. Mungo's. As a result, he remembered thinking more than once that it would have just been easier if they had died, and then feeling immediately guilty about it.

After the war, it was easy enough to ignore his birthday overall. Everyone wanted to celebrate Harry Potter Day, so his birthday was easily overshadowed by Harry's. Not that Harry liked celebrating his birthday any better. He often found Harry trying to sneak off from the grand ball that the Minister threw every year.

Still, tradition was tradition, so Neville made his way to the hospital to visit his parents that morning. When he returned, he found Luna on his doorstep.

"Hello, Neville," she said in that dreamy way, and offered him an oddly wrapped box. "You have a lot of wrackspurts today. These should help."

He tore the paper open and found seeds? Lemon seeds.

"They should brighten things up. Don't you think?"

"Right." He was used to her odd moods and it was best to just agree. "Thanks, Luna. I'm sure this will help get rid of the wrackspurts."

She beamed.

"Aren't you going inside?"

He let out a breath and opened the door.

The house smelt like cake. Sweet and fruity and he had specifically told his house elves not to make a cake this year. He glanced back at Luna, who was rocking on her heels. He ventured further inside.

Harry and Ginny were in the kitchen, laughing as Harry pulled a cake pan from the oven and Ginny ate a strawberry. Hannah Abbott and Hermione were on chairs, hanging what appeared to be a Muggle banner over the window by the table. Ron and, perhaps the most surprising additions to their group, Blaise Zabini, were arranging a pile of presents on the table.

"Surprise!" Luna cried out behind him, causing everyone to jump. Harry dropped the cake on top of the stove and looked rather startled in his oversized oven mitts and the small frilly apron that Neville's house elf Mipsy usually wore.

"Happy birthday, mate," Ron said, giving Neville a slap on the back.

Hermione frowned. "You're back early. Luna was supposed to warn us."

Blaise laughed.

"You did all this for me?"

He had told his gran he didn't want a party this year and though she had made a fuss, the war was still fresh in everyone's minds and Neville was still considered a hero. He thought he'd just have a nice quiet dinner with Hannah and call it a day. Quiet seemed out of the question now.

"Of course we did," Hannah said with a frown. "It's your birthday. You deserve to have it be celebrated."

Neville blinked. No one had ever done anything like this before. They usually came to the big party Gran threw. When he canceled that, he thought everyone would just forget.

If he was being honest, he was glad they hadn't.

"You thought we forgot?" Harry asked as he came around and pulled the apron and mitts off.

"Of course not," Neville denied quickly. "It's just no one ever really cared."

Hannah jumped off the chair and wrapped her arms around him. The hug was rather perfect and he felt his cheeks warm a bit. "Oh, Neville."

"Happy birthday, Nev," Blaise said with a grin. "Now, let's all eat cake while it's hot."

Harry glared. "It's too hot to frost."

"Presents first!" Ginny declared, picking up the largest box. "You'll never guess what I got you!"

Neville laughed.

He did not, in fact, guess what she got him. (It was a singing pot. Absolutely ridiculous, and one of his favorite gifts he had ever gotten.)