Shut Up, Padfoot!

80

With a stern scolding from Pandora, I arrived home.

She glared at me with dark eye bags and messy hair. But as history proves, nothing can hold me back but death. Even then, pretty invincible if I say so myself.

After what happened at Hogwarts, everything else was a blur. I forgot anything she said and was welcomed by my bed. The emptiness burned my chest but I fell asleep.

Almost like a deep slumber, the surreal feeling prolonged the rest of the month. The short weeks of February came to an end.

March came in. Pollen settled over the handles of Pandora's car. Insects chirped now that the weather grew warmer. However, still chilling as England tends to favor.

The last week of March shot in before I knew it. The sky was a murky grayish blue and rained most days. Our driveway was always damp and droplets never vanished from the shrubbery.

Weeds curled upwards from the cracks and corners of the house. Those plants are relentless and always come back when the spring season begins.

I grew sick of my routine.

Every early evening, I'd awaken to the sounds of thunder. The sun begins to set and it's always cold when I'm conscious.

I couldn't stomach two more meals that I needed. My abdomen growled throughout the night as I tied myself to the bed. The mattress was always warm and uncomfortable.

Tossing and turning never brought ease. So I'd stare out the window and remove myself from this reality. The bottom half of the moon could be seen behind the glass. As I dissociated, the time would pass even faster than the ending of March.

The only moment I'd finally rest is when the sun is rising with the moon already out of sight. The room felt cold and my limbs were heavy to lift. From there, I'd sleep till the early evening.

Repeat.

On this particular night, my dreams ceased as I heard the slam of the front door. I willed myself to sit up in bed. Every joint and muscle were weights that I could barely hold up.

"Cry, can you come out here?" Pandora called.

I stared at the small crack from the door. Her figure passed quickly in the direction towards the kitchen. The orange light of the candles and fireplace danced along the walls. Some light filtered into my room.

With effort, I swung my legs to the side of my bed. Shuffling out, I squinted with the overwhelming change of dark to bright. My feet took me to the kitchen.

Strands of my fringe crept around the corners of my vision. My frown deepened when I investigated the scene in front of me.

"Happy birthday!" Dora excitedly exclaimed.

A small cake in the middle of the dining table held three candles. My eyes glazed over the couple balloons in the air, tied around the arm of one of the chairs. The colorful rubber swayed in the minimal draft we had in here.

"It's James' birthday too," I softly told.

We're 17 today.

"Well, happy birthday to James as well! Sit down," she ordered.

She prodded my arm and led me into the seat behind the cake. The coolness of the chair sent a shiver down my spine and I adjusted my position.

"I'm not going to sing happy birthday because that'll be embarrassing on both our ends. So make your wish and then we can cut the cake," she explained.

I nodded, peering at the flickering flames. My humble cake and decorations... I can't believe I forgot my birthday. The days became so repetitive and numb that I forgot to look forward to it.

"You're so old, Prongs! Fourteen, eh?" Sirius playfully said.

"Don't jest! I know all of you are older than me. Even Fawkes! Only by an hour, though," he complained.

"You should respect your elders, Prongs," I reminded.

Quickly, his head slammed into the cake.

I choked at what I just saw. Peter's smile wiped away when he noticed our lukewarm reactions. He removed his hand from James' nape and scooted inches away.

"Was it not the right time?" he shyly asked.

"I– uh... I'm not sure it was the timing but the force?" Remus stuttered out.

"Is he alive?" Padfoot gasped.

Our glances gathered on the motionless boy. I leaned forward to check on how he's doing. I don't think he's breathing. I began, "Wormtail, check his pulse."

"No, you do it. I'm scared," he argued.

"You're the one that did it! Check– mmf!"

My face smushed with cake and sweet icing. The ingredients sunk into my skin and I coughed the food out. My eyes burned as I tried to glare at the wanker.

"Prongs, you dick!"

"Make a wish, love," Pandora added.

I bit my lip and hardened my stare at the melting wax. My hangnail worsened as I picked at it in apprehension. Clearing my throat, I blinked away any tears that threatened to spill.

Gently, I blew my candles out.

Smoke tendrils float up the atmosphere. I sniffled and reached for the cake cutter. She handed me a plate, getting ready to eat.

"Can I get the slice with the chocolate? I know it's not my birthday but yeah..." she asked quietly.

I smiled slightly, cutting the piece she said she wanted. The girl is a foodie. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, I always catch her with a little drool on the corner of her mouth when she sees food.

I propped up the slice on her plate. Before I could even begin tending to my piece, she dug in. I giggled, feeling a little bit better.

Even if the daily was full of nothing and wasted time, this was a good break from it. I wish I was out there with a party hat on and a butterbeer in hand. Wearing a little dress that I know Padfoot would grumble bitterly about but secretly love it. But this was still equally comforting.

Maybe my wish will be reality.

Of course, I can't tell you what it is or it won't come true.

-lana