nineteen | birthday

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Ana's eleventh birthday came in late July on an unreasonably hot day. The party was to take place on the patio where her father was putting up decorations by hand. Ana was in the kitchen watching the cake get made and licking frosting off spoons. Their mother made a chocolate hedgehog cake every year on Ana's birthday. The center was rich and sweet, the coating double cream mixed with melted chocolate. Onto that went chocolate buttons to make the spines, and two white chocolate buttons for eyes. The nose was a Malteser with a honeycomb center.

Ophelia was in the living room choosing which CD's to play when Ana came out from the kitchen, frosting all over her face. Ophelia laughed slightly before using a simple spell to clean her sister up.

"What do you think of this song?" Ophelia asked and hit play on the stereo.

"It's awfully sad," Ana said.

"It's Fleetwood Mac!"

"So?"

"So, they're geniuses."

"I think we have different opinions on what a genius is," Ana smiled.

Ophelia hummed, "alright, you pick then."

While her sister was busy looking through CD's, Ophelia accio'd her wrapped gift.

"Happy birthday, Ana," she said and handed it to her. Ana squealed, tearing the paper open to reveal the book Ophelia had bought.

"I got a copy for myself, as well," she said, "I thought we could read it together."

"Like a book club?" Ana's eyes lit up.

"Yes," Ophelia smiled, "like a book club."

Ana hugged her tight and thanked her.

"Should we read the first chapter tonight?" She asked.

Ophelia nodded, "sure."

Ana went back to picking the music and Ophelia looked out the large windows to the patio and her father. She studied him as he stood on top of a chair to put up a Happy Birthday sign. She tried to see the murderer in him, tried to see if the four lives he had allegedly taken would show on his features.

The sign fell to the ground and her father scowled. Dark circles under his eyes and hands curled into fists by his side. He was stressed now, and his response was always uncontrolled. He was spiraling again. Ophelia had almost always been the source of his frustrations, and when Peter was still alive he protected her, ending up in the middle of it all.

Her father had ignored her ever since he struck her before dinner, ever since she had let him. Like she always did. She was anxious about his next course of action, and maybe that told her all she needed to know about him. But her father wouldn't do anything to jeopardize Ana's birthday, and so she enjoyed the calm between the storms.

The birthday party was for family and friends, Draco and the Malfoy's were invited, however, Isaiah and Theodore Bentley were noticeably missing from the guest list. But Severus was coming, and Ophelia couldn't help but smile when she thought about him.

It had been two weeks since he had knocked on her window. They had passed each other briefly on the doorstep after he'd had a meeting with her father some days ago, but he hadn't talked to her then. No greeting, not even spared her a look, but Ophelia didn't mind. After kissing her like he had there was very little he could do to push her away.

"I would ask for you, Ophelia," he had said.

𖠇

Severus poured himself a second glass of firewhiskey and sat down in his chair in front of the fireplace, his fingers tapping gently on his glass. He tried to convince himself it would all be fine, but he was anxious, a sort of frozen panic with nowhere to go. He was in too deep now, it would be almost impossible to step away.

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