May, 10. 1892 - morning post
Basil had debated for days on if he should send his little cousin her birthday gift over owl or simply wait to hand it to her in class that day; in the end, owl post had won out due to a small - minute, really - preference on his her part for dramatics. He knew she'd been going through a lot over the past few weeks, especially after their little mishap with the memory charm, and Basil figured this was as good a time as any to prove to Poppy there were no hard feelings. (He was mostly sure he'd managed to convince her of that by this point, but a little extra never hurt.) So, on the morning of May 10th, much earlier than anyone should ever be up and in the Owlery, Basil selected a nice big barn owl to deliver his package with the morning flurry.
It was a rather oddly shaped, poorly wrapped gift: plain brown paper, enveloped in plain twine. Inside was a book he'd found detailing the link between certain potions and their transfigurative spell counterparts. It was something he hoped she'd find amusing, at the very least. Also wrapped was a rememberall, and a handful of chocolate frogs, some sour gummies that made your tongue change color, and - his personal favorite - a few pumpkin pasties. (Hard to find this time of year.) Basil enchanted the wrapping to pop little miniature fireworks when it was opened, hopefully she wouldn't burn her fingers, and then handed the owl a letter to deliver with the gift.
Poppyseed,
I wish you the happiest of birthdays today on this rather important date. Enclosed you'll find a few practical gifts, along with some silly indulgences that reminded me of you.
Stop by my office and indulge your cousin with your presence today, on this cheeriest of days, so I can wish you the best properly.
always,
Basil
Basil
[Included with the letter is an old, faded photograph that moves only just. It is of a young Basil holding a baby and beaming. The younger version of Basil laughs and the baby reaches out to touch his face. Poppy.]