At the exact same time the digits on her clock changed from 23:59 to 00:00, Dawn put her pen down on the first page of a new diary. It was a tradition for her to begin a new diary the first minute of her birthday, and the days before her birthdays she wrote even more than she usually did, so she wouldn't have to waste any paper.

At four in the morning, Dawn was still writing (and if Buffy were there, the blonde would have commented on Dawn's amazing writing speeds. As it were, Buffy Summers was asleep in the room next to Dawn's with Mister Gordo pressed against her chest and Mister Pointy balancing on its pointy end and making a hole in the floor, on the place where in her dream one Riley Finn was lying helplessly on the ground as a stake was twisted into his heart).

Every fifteen minutes or so, Dawn's eyes flicked to her clock to see if it was ten o'clock yet. Every fifteen minutes or so, the clock showed Dawn that in these cases, insomnia didn't pay.
~~~

When Dawn came downstairs, she was greeted by a chorus of 'Happy Birthday's, and couldn't help a smile. "Sit down, Birthday girl," Kris ordered.
Well, it was certainly nice of Kris to come over from Los Angeles. Dawn noticed that Kris had once again changed styles, and now wore her hair short and entirely blue. She had been expecting a change, of course, Kris keeping one look for longer than two weeks was in, and of itself a small miracle, but keeping it for longer than two months would be an unprecedented event. The boy standing next to her must be her boyfriend, then. Although he did look a little like Kris did (provided one knew that Kris' natural hair color was dark blonde, as well), so perhaps he was a relative, instead. "C'mon Aury, sit down," Kris said again.
This time Dawn obeyed, sitting down with a smile that said 'gimme my pressies'. Of course, that could have been Dawn herself, and not her smile. Smiles, after all, have no vocal cords.

When no presents came her way in the next minute, Dawn frowned. They were going to sing, and even though Angel and Cordelia were in Los Angeles at the time, that still left Xander and Buffy, who were certainly not in LA. "Don't you sing!" she exclaimed mock outraged.
"Aury, we have to. What kind of party would it be if we didn't sing?" Kris said brightly. To someone who was as tone-deaf as Kris was, the singing abilities of Buffy and Xander didn't matter.
A party where no one lost the ability to hear, Dawn thought, grinning mentally.

"On the table, little Miss Summers," Xander said.
Dawn climbed on the table and waited. "Happy birthday to you, happy …"

Just hurry up with the song, Dawn thought, I want my presents. "… happy birthday to yooou!"

"Not another song," Dawn grinned, getting off the table, "but presents, and lots of them."

Tara and Willow gave her a lot of book-shaped parcels, which they set down on the armrests. Dawn grabbed one, tore off the paper and jumped up to hug the two Wiccans. "Thanks, guys!"
The other books were also about Wicca, and after six more hugs, Tara produced another present from a pocket in her skirt. Dawn opened the box. It was a silver snake, whose head was a swirling mist. "It's a mood ring. One that actually works," Tara smiled.
Dawn slipped it on her finger and thanked the Wiccans again. "How does it work?"
"Tara found a spell to reflect moods on gems. We'd already bought the ring, so we did the spell on the snake's head. The spell itself is in one of those books," Willow explained.
The redhead took a book and opened it, then put it in Dawn's hands. "That's the spell we used," she said, holding her index finger in the middle of the page.

Anya and Xander hadn't wrapped their gifts; Dawn already knew what they were because she'd picked them out herself. One was the statue of Ceres that she'd been waiting to get for a few months; two books about ancient religion, one about the Olympic Gods and one about the Germanic ones; and a chain with a tusk from a Fotemon on it. "You could have at least wrapped them," she said, mock offended.
Xander shrugged.

Dawn looked at her sister. The blonde was sitting on the floor next to Kris, looking bored. She kept looking at Riley furiously, as if she wished that he'd be pierced by a dozen hot pokers. Dawn had no problem with that idea – she'd be honored to do it herself – so long as Buffy would act normal to her again. Well, actually Dawn would be happy to do it in any case.
Buffy got up and walked to Dawn. Dawn took the box her older sister was holding, and opened it. She smiled at the two roses. Not a birthday present but a peace offering then, huh? Dawn reached into the box and pulled out another box, which she turned over in her hands. She smiled up and her sister, "All's forgiven and all that, but I'm not reading it out loud."
"That's okay."
Dawn opened the little box and pulled out a silver chain from which hung a small wooden stake. "Thanks. Buff."
She unhooked the chain and put it around her neck.

Kris threw a pouch at her. Dawn grabbed it out of midair, still admiring the stake. The contents of the pouch chinked and when she opened it, her mouth fell open. "That's at least a hundred Galleons," Dawn muttered shocked.
Kris and her the guy beside nodded. "Wow, thanks..."
"We plan to take all of you shopping sometime today," he explained.

Joyce looked at the two on the floor. "You're going to…?"
"We're taking 'em shopping," he replied blankly.
"Eh, Christian, you might want to hear what she has to say," Kris said, with a hint of nervousness in her voice.
"Where to? The pouch of Galleons doesn't exactly imply you're taking them to the mall in Sunnydale."
"We were gonna … to LA, the Park's Way Center …" Christian sputtered, completely confused – hadn't Kris said that Joyce was a witch also?
Kris blushed lightly, "Eh… yeah, Aunty Joyce, this is Christian Anderson. I've been with him for the past three years. It kind slipped my mind to introduce him," she said, grinning.

Joyce smiled and nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Christian, I'm Joyce Summers, Kris' role model," Joyce said this with pride.
"It's true," Kris protested, "I wanted to become an Enforcer because she was!"
Joyce waved it away lightly, "I do hope you two were planning to stow them all into Kris' purple monstrosity — I mean Kris' van. There is no way I am allowing Dawn to get within six feet of a broom. Imagine the damage she could do."
The look on Dawn's face made it crystal clear that she was, in fact, imagining the damage she could do with a racing broom. "And I could drop a bomb on Anne's house …" Dawn opened her eyes and blushed, "you didn't hear that," she grumbled irritably.

Something was tapping against the window, demanding from them to open it and to let it in. With a sigh and a flick of her wand, Joyce opened the window. The owl flew in and landed in front of Dawn, who took the parcel off its leg and opened it. "It's from Spike!" she exclaimed happily.
"Read it out loud," Willow demanded.
Dawn was very sure she just heard Xander mutter that Willow just wanted to hear from someone who could match her IQ.

"Listen up, then. 'Dear Dawn (thought you'd be getting a little old for 'Bit', 'Bitesize', etc – you are taller than your sister, after all)," at this comment, Buffy muttered something under her breath that earned her a sharp look from her mother.
I'd like to wish you not only a happy, but also a very … boring … birthday. You never know with Sunnyhell. The gift I got from a Muggle jeweller, but I went to see a wizard expert. He ensured me there was nothing funny about it. Mind, he was not an expert on Wiccan magic, so you might want to have Red take a look at it first. Take care of yourselves, all of you. Spike'. Sorry, Will, guess there's not too much techno babble or that stuff only you understand."
Buffy looked at her. "Are you saying you're not intelligent? Than what am I, what's Xander? Are we trolls?"
Dawn frowned. "Was I saying I was not intelligent?" she said, offended.
Xander shrugged, and so did Buffy. "Forget it," Dawn said eventually, "you can make it up to me by giving me many more things because I'm the birthday girl."

Dawn pulled out a small glass orb, perhaps half an inch in diameter. The deep blue of the orb strongly reminded Dawn of Spike's eyes. When she looked into it, it started showing pink and green flecks. She blinked and looked at the little orb again. It hung from its soft leather cords, and there were definitely colored flecks in it. "Willow, you really might want to take a look at this," Dawn said, holding out the orb to the redhead. Buffy, in the mean time, dug out a cell phone and dialed Spike's number.

"Yeah?" Spike sounded very, very bored.
"Your present glowed."
"What?"
"It glowed – no, wait. It stopped, but Willow's holding it now. What? Oh." Buffy turned to the redhead, "Will, give it back to Dawn for a second."

Willow did, and immediately it started to show the flecks of light again. "Now it's glowing again."
"I've no idea, Slayer. You'll have to figure it out yourselves. But it's probably just because it's Dawn's now."
"You're not too concerned, are you? Do you have better things to do?"
Spike sighed. "No and no. This happens often enough, I'd say that it has probably just recognized its owner. I wouldn't worry about if it doesn't sting, makes her feel lightheaded?"

Buffy asked her sister. "In both cases the answer is 'no'. Dawn says it feels like she's holding a tiny sphere."
"It's probably nothing, then."
"But this is – Spike? It's impolite to hang up in the middle of a conversation, ass!" Buffy said, offended.

"Well, are we off to Los Angeles, then?" Christian asked, getting off the floor.
Joyce looked thoughtful. To what degree was the International Statute of Secrecy broken in this case? It wasn't, she thought. All these people had a right to know. "You can go. Buffy, Dawn neither of you are to go within six feet of a broom."

"And don't raid the shops!" Joyce added as an afterthought when both her daughters were out the door.
There was an assorted murmur of agreements and critical retorts as everyone got into Kris' van. Anya and Christian were immersed in a discussion about brooms – Anya failed to see the use, as she dated from before traveling by broom. "But why use one when you can just Apparate?"

"Apparating is far more difficult than getting on a broom. And they really are useful for all sorts of sports," Christian explained eagerly.
"Don't listen to the Quidditch freak," Kris threw over her shoulder. "He thinks brooms are the best thing ever invented by wizardkind."
Christian shot her a look. "Pardon me? I may be a professional Quidditch commentator, Miss Raco; and you might be too clumsy to ever make it on a Quidditch team, but I would like to point out to you that you're just as obsessed as I am!"

"I am not clumsy!" Kris shrieked, turning to face Christian so suddenly she turned the wheel all the way to the right. With another shriek, she steered the car back on the road.
Christian gave a satisfied smirk. "Aren't you now?"
"No, I'm not! And don't you dare say I'm as obsessed with that idiotic sport as you are!"
"I'll dare that, and then some, Raco. You're obsessed not only with Quidditch, changing styles like you were a Metamorphmagus, like that equally insane and obsessed friend of yours, and weapons, but also with Muggles. You've been driving a car since you sixteen, for God's sakes!"
"Is that so?" countered Kris hotly. "Are you saying that it's wrong for a witch to know about the Muggle world?"
Christian smiled triumphantly, and said, "You certainly do know a ridiculous much about them, for a witch."
"So you're saying that to know certain things about Muggles is ridiculous. Are you saying that Muggleborns are ridiculous?"
Christian's triumphant smile turned into a full-fledged triumphant smirk, and he said in a tone that clearly stated he'd already won the argument, "So, you're implying that you are Muggleborn, because you know so much about Muggles. Now that, is was I would call ridiculous."
Kris didn't reply immediately, and stared ahead, silently fuming. Had she been a cartoon character, there would be a thunderstorm hanging over her head.