-Happy birthday!
Mrs. Weasley has a big cake on her hands, and all the Weasley clap when I go down the stairs while I thank Francesca for reminding me to put on my clothes before going down. I imagine that otherwise the applause would have been louder.
The twins run towards me and give me a big hug while they mess up my hair, which is pretty messy alreasy, since I just got up. Apparently, Francesca can't take care of everything. Maybe she's jealous for my birthday. Will her birthday be on the same day as mine or was born another day?
My birthday is the fifteenth of September, Leyla, Francesca says, always caring.
Oh. Thanks, I say. Now gow away. Shu. I'm having a special moment here.
-What do you say? -George asks.
-Oh... er... nothing.
-Something about shuuu -Fred mimics me.
-It's the excitement about getting old.
-True! Isn't it great? You now have thirteen years.
-Right! Now I can do... the same things I could do when I was twelve.
-That's not true. You can go now to Hogsmeade... and with authorization -he adds whispering.
I can't avoid blushing. I remember the time I went with him to Hogsmeade, when I was on first year, without permission. We kissed in the tunnel, getting away from McGonnagall and Filtch. Hard to forget, for several reasons.
-Congratulations -says Ginny with a big smile. I'm glad to see her so well after what happened just a few weeks ago in the Chamber of Secrets. That still gives me chills-. Do you like the chocolate cake?
-Percy loves it -George remarks -. He would even trade his sweet Penelope for a nice piece of cake.
And we all se that, endeed, he already served a piece for himself.
-Nonsense -Percy says offended, and he gets up from the table (but notice that he didn't forget his portion).
-Percy, you can stay with us -Mrs. Weasley says.
-No, no. Anyways, I was already leaving. I have important things to do.
Mr. Offended Prefect leaves with his food upstairs, while I make a face at his back. The twins try to hide their laugh.
-You two, leave your brother alone -their mother says -. And now, Leyla, happy birthday darling! -she gives me a kiss on my forehead and a really warm hug. -Sit down please, there's a place next to Ron. Would you like some cake?
-Give some to Ron first, he looks desperate. -I sit next to him and hug him from the side.
-Oh, Leyla, I'm sorry. I was thinking... have a happy birthday.
I give him his portion and soon every Weasley has a piece of the delicious chocolate cake.
-What is so important to leave food to a side? -I ask him with my mouth full -.Mrs. Weasley, this cake is amazing.
-Thank you, darling.
-Scabbers -Ron says, plunging the spoon in his portion, yet not eaten-. He's not ok.
Fred and George look at each other.
-What did you do to him? -Ron says with an accusing look.
The twins put their hands up.
-Easy, little brother, we didn't do anything to him.
-But you must admit that Scabbers is a bit old, don't you think?
Ron blows and crosses his arms.
-He's not older than a few weeks ago -he replies.
-Do you think that it could be the smell of my feet? -I ask -Roquefort smell, which is not any cheese, is strong even for rats.
Fred and George start laughing like crazy, and Mrs. Weasley shakes her head with reprobation, but not being able to hide a smile.
-Ginny -she says -, whenever you like, come and help me with the laundry.
All of us know that 'whenever you like' means 'Ginerva Weasley, you have five minutes to fill up the basket'. Mrs. Weasley can be sweet and make the best birthday cakes, but when she tells you to do something, you better do it. Ginny knows that and she quickly follows her mother towards the yard.
-And we have to go and get the brooms -Fred says -. Whenever you like, George.
-I'm scared to death when mom says that. -Ron comments.
-So, Quidditch at sunset?
Ron and I give them the thumbs up, and I even want to clap, but I wouldn't forgive myself for doing so many dumb things, not even on my birthday. The guys leave and now Ron and I are alone.
I really hope that Scabbers doesn't have anything serious -I say -. Where is he now?
-He has been staying in Percy's room for the last couple days. I can't see him much, because my brother is always busy with I don't know what thing for the Ministry, and if you ask him, he will just feel flattered. So I go inside to see Scabbers when Mr. Boring goes to the bathroom or outside the house to make sure that no one intercepts his Ministry-high-priority owl.
-That's why he was running like crazy yesterday... -I scratch my head while I think. I don't like filling my thoughts with Percy-. It's weird that the Ministry accepts the distanced aid of someone that hasn't graduated from Hogwarts, don't you think? But the distance is a good idea: nobody wants to work near Percy -Ron smiles-. However, have you talked to Harry?
-No, but I'm sure that he won't recive news for some time. What's the date?
I lead my hand to my forehead, simulating to be very offended.
-You will never be able to clean this horrible stain from our friendship, Ronald Weasley.
-Oh, sorry, it's your birthday, I shouldn't have forgotten that. Er... today is... the twenty-third of June?
-The twenty-forth of June. Be thankful that today I'm a good girl, otherwise I would have slapped you. However, do you think it's too early to write Harry?
-Yeah, school ended less than two weeks ago; generally, owls take some long days to arrive, and Harry doesn't recieve his letters all the time. I don't know what those muggles do, but it must be horrible to live with them.
-What about calling him by tephelophone?
-Is called phetelone, and last year didn't go so well. After that, I had nightmares about Harry's uncle for three nights straight.
We both tremble. When I finish eating my piece, I stare at Ron's plate.
-If you are not going to eat that... -I say.
-Don't be fat, Leyla.
My face turns long. I try to laugh at his comment, but at the same time I swallow a horrible weight that won't go down, that remains stuck. The pain stays in my chest. What I don't get is why does that affect me so much. Haven't I accepted all of my defects several times? My short height, my boring dark eyes, the smell of my feet that make Scabbers sick... I know I almost don't have manners and the grace of an elephant skiing. And I also know that the list is endless. But this is different; he just touched a weak spot on me, and I don't like it at all, it doesn't feel nice knowing that the word 'fat' brings me down so fast.
-Hey, why the long face? -Ron says- Fine, you can have the half of it. You convinced me this time, but for the next time practice a better sad puppy face.
-No, it's okay. Hope the chocolate lifts up your mood.
Shortly after, Fred and George come back with the brooms, and my dark mood ends, although I spend all the time thinking about my posture and checking if the cape makes me look fat on the way outside. I'm dying of embarrassment when I stumble and Ginny holds me by my waist so I don't fall. I must be red, and I feel my throat closed while I try not to cry. Everyone must have noticed it.
I try to follow everyone's joy, and the Quidditch game doesn't turn bad at all, but I don't dare to make hard moves and risk the cape to get in a weird position, and someone notice something I don't want to.
At dinner, I feel everyone is looking at me and every mouthful hurts. It's not the happiest way to finish my birthday, and I feel it would be beautiful to stay with twelve years, just like yesterday, and stop feeling chased, with all looks staring at my imperfections.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stay till late talking about some news that arrive from his work, and since it doesn't seem important, the rest of us go to the living room, but I can't stay much there. I feel like I overloaded myself today and I can't feel anything else. I go to sleep and everyone wishes me a good night and a happy birthday again. But I can only think about going to some place, alone, so I can breathe again.
The morning is beautiful, and the pressure on my chest is gone. I walk around the house and I don't feel so complexed, but I still hide to change my pijamas even when the only other person in the room is Ginny.
Oh, I was so happy before. Having thirteen is the worst thing. I think I can't wait to have fourteen so all of this disappears.
You know it doesn't work like that, Francesca says, and the only thing she manage is to make me feel more anxious.
Damn.