Chosen || Draco Malfoy

41 - Birthday Queen

The atmosphere is joyous and even some of the Ravenclaws and a couple of teachers pop over to wish me a happy birthday. Again, I avoid glancing in the direction of the Slytherin table.

When the owl post arrives, I look up eagerly for Amazon. Two days earlier I had sent her in search of Mum and Dad with a letter asking how their safari was going. I hadn't heard from them in the entire two months they were gone and so I thought a gentle reminder that my birthday was coming up was needed.

"Cece, are you okay?" Harry asks me, noticing the fall of my face when she doesn't appear.

With the table so full, I can't answer him without looking crazy, so I just smile a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes and give him the merest of nods.

I go quiet after that, the heaviness in my chest making it difficult to concentrate on much else. Everyone starts talking about what they'd like to do when they turn seventeenth, and I excuse myself, claiming the need for the bathroom.

But where I actually go is to the owlery, and to my surprise I see that Amazon is there, evidently having returned without any reply from my parents.

"Hey," I murmur as I approach the tawny owl with big blinking black eyes.

Hooting softly in response, she affectionately nips my finger and I smile, giving her feathers a playful ruffle.

And that's when I notice it, my heart stilling.

Tied to her leg is my letter to my parents, undelivered. My stomach gives an uneasy twist as I carefully remove the battered envelope with shaking fingers. I turn it over in my hand, looking for clues. But there is nothing, just my neat scrawl: 'Mr and Mrs Amos Diggory: Africa - on safari'.

This is not like Amazon at all, she can usually find people no problem. Her delivery history is top notch, with one hundred percent success rate.

Until now.

"Amazon," I breathe, my voice shaking, "they weren't there, were they? They weren't in Africa?"

She gives a low, mournful hoot, her eyes looking up at me sorrowfully.

"Okay," I say, trying not to panic. "Perhaps they're back home already and forgot to let me know."

But, as I quickly scribble down our home address on the envelope, I know something isn't quite adding up. They have never forgotten my birthday before. Even last year when they were sure I had gone mad thinking Voldemort was back, they still sent me the world's biggest 'Best Daughter' birthday card.

I watch Amazon fly away, the knot in my chest getting tighter.

*****

He is so zombified when he goes down to breakfast that he barely notices the commotion at the Hufflepuff table.

It is only when he hears her laughter, does he glance up. His chest hurts to even look at her, especially as she looks more beautiful than ever.

It is then that he notices the banner, and given that Smith had just placed a tiara on her head, he figures it has to be her birthday. He casts his eyes back down at his breakfast: a single piece of dry toast - it's all he can stomach.

"Are you alright, man?" Blaise asks, piling his own plate with a mountain of scrambled egg. "You're looking done in these days."

Draco gives his shoulders a heavy shrug. Fuck, even that wearies him out. When was the last time he slept? He can't recall. He does remember McGonagall giving him an earful the other day for falling asleep in class though. Perhaps that is how he does it: getting pockets of sleep without even realising it.

He takes a bite of his toast and is instantly awash with nausea. He lost his appetite weeks before when he realised just what was at stake if he didn't fix this damn cabinet.

...new prisoners brought into our home. I hear them screaming at night... until we can repay your father's debt, I lie awake, fearful for our lives, Draco...you must turn to Severus, he will aid you...there is talk of punishment if not completed by your return at Christmas...

On and on his mother's letters would arrive, each one becoming more fraught and making Draco feel worse. Three weeks into term and he still couldn't fix it. And he vowed to himself he wouldn't rest until he did - wouldn't write back to his mother until he could give her just a small ray of hope.

But as each day passed and still nothing, he realised he was just letting her down in the same way as his father had.

Casting Cecilia one last mournful glance as she looked to the skies, waiting for the owl post to arrive, Draco got wearily to his feet and walked away.

******