Hestia Jones can charm the pants off of you. (

Had there been a line of wizards, Hestia hadn't seen them. Instead, she'd seen the empty claws of her owl as not one of her family members remember her birthday this year. Not a one. She'd always joked as she grew older that she'd like it if they scored the date from their calendars, but she hadn't thought they would actually do it. She shrugged her shoulders, her ace scrunched slightly after taking another drink. Merlin, firewhiskey could burn.

"When one forgets their birthday, they don't exactly have time to throw a party," she told him, smiling in spite of herself. "And I'm not much for celebrating these sorts of things."

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InsaneJournal

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