Tom Riddle Birthday Novels & Stories

"We'll be there in a bit. Right, I've always wanted to ask. When is your birthday?" "25th October," Liam looked out of the window. "What?" Steve turned to face him. "Isn't that in about two days? It's the 23rd today, right? Why didn't you talk about it and all?" "It's fine," Liam was still staring out of the window. "I'm not really a fan of birthdays. Mine especially." "Why?" Steve faced him. "Because my dad died on my birthday. My thirteenth birthday." "Oh. I'm so-"

I reach for my phone to check the actual date when Nate precedes me, saying, “It’s the 24th of January. We should celebrate.” I take a deep breath. The 24th of January. I repeat it in my head again and again—my birth date. I never could’ve guessed. And I’ve been guessing all my life. “I don’t know. This feels weird,” I answer, brows still creased in confusion. I always knew that my birthday was almost certainly not in November, but it was nice that we chose the first snow day. “Well, I already told Jenny and Eleanor. Your friends are coming to your place after work,” he replies, face scrunching up.

I nod because it feels like he has more to say. “ On a date,” he continues. Ratchet is a handsome, nice young man. It shouldn't surprise me that he has been asked out. I just did realize he knew anyone around here. “ Do I know this person?” I ask. “ Sort of. We met him at my birthday party. He was the D.j.” I think back on that night to try to remember him. But unfortunately, nothing comes to mind. “ Do you want to go out with him.?” I’m guessing he does or he wouldn’t have brought it up.

Ellie was desperate to talk about anything other than herself, pondering the situation wasn't helping, it was only making it worse. Meredith cringed, "My birthday is in December, it's the 18th. I've been getting a few clues the last week. I think I know who it is, but I'm not sure yet. I really don't want to tell anyone until I know for sure. It's embarrassing. He's not who I would have chosen, but the fates know best, I guess, right?"

“Day after tomorrow.” “Feast of the Archangels,” Tommy said, nodding. “Christ’s birth date, to boot.” Richard hesitated, his beer wavering at his lips. He lowered the Michelob. “Come again?” “That date,” he said with a sideways glance, “Michelle’s birthday. She shares it with someone famous! It was also the birthday of Jesus Christ, they’re thinking maybe.” “I don’t get it—what’s the punch line? Who is ‘they’?”

I sorted for balance. “Where do you want to go for your birthday?” Okay, this is surprising. “Why? You want to cut the cake with me?” I flopped despite the joy I felt for his taking note of my birthday. “Can’t I?” “If only you wouldn’t be celebrating Rose Waldeen. Can you afford to miss it?” Rose Waldeen, the Tiktok drama-doll, shares the same birth date as me. And to add, it is her 15th birthday, the year all female teenagers go berserk for. I doubt Lucky Rogers would ditch that for my birthday.

with some concern in his eyes. Mr. Riddle Sr. sighed as he looked in the direction where Mr. Rogers Sr. left. In fact, he had still not figured out who Mr. Rogers Sr. was looking for. He thought of Mr. Rogers Sr.'s laughter and his question: "Are all the members of the Riddle family here?" With the help of his servants, Mr. Riddle Sr. walked slowly back in. It was at this time that something suddenly dawned on him. He almost forgot what his eldest son had said to him before. Damien had told him that at the Rogers family's birthday party, he saw Mr. Rogers Sr. come out to invite Nicole personally.

"She's been my doctor for 12 years, she's consistent, stubborn, and she never smiles... Not even on her birthday." Tuck fell quiet a moment, as he dwells in his thoughts. Eventually, he asks: "When's her birthday?" "Hm?" Cole was surprised by his question, but answered anyway. "It's January 2nd."

she added as I raised my eyebrow. “What??” “Well...” she replied, then pressed something on her tablet to show me, but it was merely Mr. Reynolds' profile. “And?” I mentioned that I was confused as her finger moved to something on the tab, and I took a look at it. His birthday. “Uh… Today is... oh wait, tomorrow is his birthday??” I exclaimed, and Tiara set her tab aside and agreed with a nod. “Yes, and a celebration will be held at midnight,” she replied making me groan

“Okay, so we’ll give him some time to calm down. Maybe if you could heal your legs, he might be willing?” “Yeah, but I don’t know how. I was trying before I fell asleep earlier. By the way, what day is it?” “16th March 2011.” “Oh my! It’s really two years after and my birthday is in a few weeks.” “Really? What day?” “2nd April. I’ll be sixteen.” “A good year to celebrate!” “Yeah…” It is a good year to celebrate but what really am I celebrating? Mom’s not here anymore, no one knows who her killer is and I haven’t even made any progress in my life. No prom or…