She was pretty horrible at birthdays. Or, well--her boyfriend's birthdays, anyway.

The first one with Ben, she'd forgotten about it because of exams, and the second, well--they kind of loathed each other. With Remus, she hadn't been dating him, and barely made it to Valentine's without that falling through, so. With all of her newly found free time, Emmeline had determinedly decided that she was going to do a good job this time.

Which was why her patience had run terribly thin, and she couldn't wait until tomorrow.

His house, well, his manor had always been initimidating, even when they were younger and she would visit Juliet, but now that she wasn't immediately let in by the house-elf Juliet had so carefully destroyed, Emmeline found standing on the front steps more than daunting. The wait for a response on the other side of the door felt like it was lasting an eternity, and all it managed was to make her think about the packages in her hand.

The cake, the present. Present, cake, would he like them---she shouldn't care so much about it, but she did, and Emmeline shifted them in her arms as she waited. And waited, and---twisting, she flicked her wand and slammed the large knocker down again. What terrible timing for Juliet to have killed the doorman.