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11th of November 1975.
𝕸y 16th birthday. A birthday that is meant to be filled of sweet things, and yet I couldn't feel more depressed. I took a long hot shower the morning of my birthday, standing under the scolding water, pondering of what could have been if things went differently. A child is supposed to receive gifts and letters from their mother and father on their birthday, showered with affection and be made a big deal out of it because it's their child. I couldn't have that.
My seventh birthday, when my dad placed the pink sparkly cake in front of me with the candles in, asking me for to make a wish...I wished for one thing. My eighth, a purple and gold cake...I wished again for the same thing, my nineth, my tenth, my eleventh...every single year I wished for the same thing just a flicker of hope it would come true. Deep down I knew it wouldn't, but hope is all I could hold on to. Hope and grief. Because the grief is a never ending reminder she existed, that she was with me for the first six years, that she was still a part of me.
I got ready for the day, not really bothering with my appearance much for the day. What's the point? I braided my damp hair back, not even bothering to dry it, rested my glasses on the tip of my nose and shrugged on my uniform. The girls asked if I was okay, I told them I was sick. Technically it wasn't a lie, I did feel sick, just not for the reasons they thought.
"Are you alright, Mor?" Remus asked concerned as I slid into my seat at breakfast, immediately trying to drown myself in coffee.
"She said she feels sick" Lily informed him, Remus frowning and lifting his hand up to my forehead.
"You don't feel w-"
"I feel sick, I don't have to be warm" I cut him off quietly, staring down at my coffee, seeing my reflection through the dark brown beverage. The reflection that she looked like.
"Hey, Moony, did you do the charms essay?"
"Yeah, one moment"
"How do we know that we all see things the same colour? There's no proof, what if my green is your purple?"
"Where the fuck did that come from?"
"Just a thought...the world makes no sense to me"
"You make no sense to me"
"Good morning" I heard Dumbledore greet, approaching our table. He never does that. I shrank further in my seat when he edged closer, closing my eyes briefly. He better not say anything, no one knows, "Amore, j'ai une lettre de ton père, il m'a demandé de te la remettre en personne" He spoke, handing me a letter.
"Merci" I muttered, sliding the letter into my bag to read later on. I couldn't read it in front of everyone.
"Sometimes I like to practice my french, just to keep it intact. A mind like mine has many things being processed" He explained to the group as they looked at him baffled as to why he spoke to me in french. All except one that kept their eyes on me the entire time. Good. He lied for me.
"How many languages can you speak, Dumbles?" James inquired, sprinkling some cinnamon on his porridge.
"One hundred and three I do believe so far..."
"One hundred and three?!"
"Yes, one hundred and three, French is definitely one of my favourites" He hummed, me still facing away from him and looking down until I felt something kick my leg and I caught eyes with grey ones, scanning over my face, "Hm. I wish you all a lovely day" He spoke again before walking away, down to the professor's table.
"That man is bizzare" Lily mumbled, "What did he say to you Amore?"
"He said that he saw her father a few days ago and took a letter for her so he didn't have to use an owl. It would just be easier" Sirius spoke for me, the rest of the group nodding in understanding. I gave him a half hearted smile in appreciation, him subtly nodding his head to me as everyone else finished their breakfast.
•••
I had managed to avoid Sirius the entire day in lessons, and every time I saw him we were with the whole group so he couldn't do anything. I'm certain he knows. Astronomy was the last lesson of the day, meaning I would be seated beside him up in the tower, although it was midnight when the class began therefore it wasn't my birthday anymore. He slid into his seat beside me, twirling his ring that I gave him around his finger before turning to me, opening his mouth,
"It's your birthday, isn't it?" He murmured, extremely quiet in case someone heard us.
"Was...it was my birthday" I replied almost inaudibly, eyeing the clock on the wall. 12:04 am, 12th of November.
"Figured" He muttered, plopping a small black box down in front of me, "Open it"
"I don't-"
"Don't be difficult, Beaufort. I didn't tell anyone it was your birthday, take the bloody gift" He cut me off, sliding the box back in front of me. I sighed, opening the box, my jaw dropping. It was a similar ring to the one I gave him, citrine in the centre in the shape of a star except it had two small hearts either side and a thinner band than his. It screamed expensive. I slid it on to my finger, the ring gliding on perfectly, as I turned back to the boy,
"merci, j'aime beaucoup" I whispered, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.
"positivité, joie et optimisme, ouais?" He returned, eyeing his ring too.
"Ouais"
We spent the remainder of the lesson in silence, filling out our star charts in a quiet peace, much different to our usual bickering. The stars were our safe haven, we allowed them to guide us, to wherever they took us.
Sirius took side glances every once and a while to the golden haired girl as she filled out her star chart in a serene silence up on the tower. He had figured out it was her birthday when he had seen her this morning and despite how much he found her infuriating, he couldn't bring himself to irritate her when he could see she was already down within herself. He knew how difficult birthdays could be, like she said to him on his, that's why he didn't tell anyone else. He let her have her day, the way she wanted to have it and then he gave her, her gift when it was over. It was the least he could do for her. Afterall, he understood the feeling.
