"Everybody!"
That had been Pixie's excited answer to Carla when the hapless counsellor had asked who she wanted to invite to her birthday party the previous day. It was completely true; Pixie didn't see why anyone should be left out of such an important occasion as her fifteenth birthday party. Nor had she thought through the logistics of simply springing it on the adults with just over twenty four hours' notice. Pixie, being Pixie, had failed to notice that parties didn't simply spring out of nowhere, particularly in places where magic wasn't allowed to be used. But her enthusiasm had been such that the counsellors had agreed that, as there was a cookout planned for the following evening, it could indeed be Pixie's birthday party, and they were sure they could find a suitable cake.
Pixie had dressed for the occasion in a particularly appalling set of
dungarees that she had bought in Hogsmeade for a dare a couple of months earlier, and had broken into the frankly enormous stash of sweets and candies she had brought with her for midnight feasts. Instead, she had spent a happy couple of hours that afternoon in the creative arts cabin, wrapping up party favours that were now stacked in a basket next to the dessert table, which she had convinced herself was entirely in her honour. The reality, of course, was that the planned cookout had just been made rather more elaborate than it would otherwise have been.
Then there was the cake. it was the most amazing confection of multicoloured chocolate delight the Gryffindor had ever seen, and she'd been promised that she would be allowed to cut it herself later and find out the surprise inside. Secretly, Pixie hoped it was going to explode more chocolate, or perhaps glitter, but she had wisely kept that thought to herself. For now, she was just excited to see everyone turn up and hear some of them commenting on the long table that had been set for the meal, or the hanging decorations and the lights that hung above the table, even if the counsellors had already voiced their doubts about students wanting to sit there. Most people would likely collect their food and sit in groups on the grass.
Pixie didn't care. It was a party, and it was her birthday, and that was what mattered, and later there would be games and storytelling and campfire songs. Delighted, she grabbed the basket of candies and began handing them out, chatting to the people she knew and introducing herself with "Hi, I'm Pixie. Welcome to my fifteenth birthday party!" to those she didn't.
[Please join in! Pixie thrives on mayhem!]