Chapter 14 – The Birthday Present

On March twenty-fourth, Liz stumbled out of bed late. Her alarm clock hadn't gone off. She was thinking of taking advantage of the Hogsmeade trip the next weekend and getting a new one. She pulled on her robes, which were wrinkled. She quickly slipped into her shoes and reached for her wand, but something was sitting on it. It was her mother's white owl. Only then did Liz remember that she was fifteen today. She took the letter from the owl and read:

Dear Elizabeth,

Happy 15th Birthday! I miss you. Enjoy your present.

Luna

And then, at the bottom of the letter in a different handwriting that Liz had never seen before, it said:

May we meet again soon.

Liz started. This was the first time her mother had ever said anything about her extended absence in her daughter's life. She ripped off the unused half of parchment from the letter and took the quill that had been folded up in it. She dipped it in ink on her desk and began to write. Dear Mum. But the quill wouldn't write. She shook it vigorously. "I'm going to miss breakfast!" she yelled. Then a scrap of paper fell out of the letter.

Self-Writing Quill. Writes whatever the owner wants it to say. To activate, press red spot on the side and state your name.

So Liz pressed the tiny red spot and said, "Liz Potter."

"No nicknames," the quill said dully.

"Okay, then, um…Elizabeth Potter."

"That's better. Your quill is now activated. Whenever you want me to write something, say, 'Ethereal Phoenix.'"

"Ethereal Phoenix?" Liz repeated.

"What would you like me to write?" the quill asked her.

"Dear Mum, I got your letter, please come see me soon, I miss you."

"Anything else?" asked the quill in a bored tone.

"Love, your daughter Liz."

"Done yet?" impatiently.

"Yes. Do you send it too?"

"No. I'm just a quill."

So Liz rolled up the parchment and gave it to the owl, which was waiting patiently, and ushered the owl out the window. The quill kept talking. "So who are you writing to?"

"How do I turn you off?"

"Just say, 'Mystic Silver.'"

"Mystic Silver," said Liz, and the pen shut up. She grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs to an empty common room. She flew out the portrait hole to the Great Hall, where breakfast was ending. Rachel and Michael were coming out, Rachel with a piece of toast, Michael with a glass of juice, and each with a wrapped gift.

"Where were you? We saved these for you," said Rachel. They handed her the toast and the juice, which she devoured quickly. Then they gave her the gifts.

"What are these?" she asked.

"Your gifts," said Michael.

"You didn't have to get me anything…"

"But we did," said Rachel. "Open them on our way to…what do we have first? Oh, that's right, Care of Magical Creatures. Chris'll have a gift for you too, I'll bet."

Rachel's gift was a compact mirror that apparently gave makeup tips. "I have one," Rachel told Liz. "It's really useful." Michael's was a book. It wasn't a history book or a book of spells, but a fiction book. "I read the summary, and I thought you'd like it."

They reached Hagrid's cabin, where Chris was waiting for them. "Here," he said, giving Liz a gift. It was a bag of Sugar Quills that actually wrote. "Thank you," said Liz, taking one out. "It's my breakfast dessert."

After Care of Magical Creatures, Liz headed to Ancient Runes while Rachel and Michael went to Muggle Studies. When she got inside, Professor Stickler wasn't there, but David was.

"Hello, Liz," he said. "Happy Birthday."

Winnie came in, followed by Bettie. Both glared furiously at Liz as David handed her a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Liz looked up at him, and then at Bettie, who was determinedly not looking at them, and then at Winnie, who seemed to be trying to bore a hole through the back of David's head. Then she looked back at David. "Um, David? Um, I don't know how to say this, but I think we should just be friends. For now. I mean—I don't know, I'm so confused, but I know I can't handle a relationship at the moment."

David looked saddened. "Well, all right. You still want the chocolates, right?"

Liz smiled. "Of course." She put the box in her bag. David shifted in his seat. Professor Stickler came in and began teaching.

The rest of March flew by fast, and April came almost too quickly. Liz spent a week's worth of nights in the library decoding P through X. X was the hardest, and she still couldn't find D. She refrained from plugging P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, and X into the manuscript for the simple reason that she wanted to find all the letters herself and avoid too much guesswork.

"Where were you?" Rachel asked as Liz entered the common room after spending three hours searching for X.

"Library."

"Doing Ancient Runes for Professor Magus again?"

"Yes."

"It's consuming all your time, you know that? You're always in the library, doing Ancient Runes for Professor Magus, and she doesn't even teach it. Are you even going to show us that thing you were working on?"

"No, not if you're going to insult me for doing a favor for Professor Magus," said Liz, her temper flaring up. Then she settled. "Look, I can't show you. It's confidential."

Rachel sighed and nodded. "Fine. I won't ask."

"And I won't answer."

Liz sat back in her chair, thinking. She was so close to finishing this manuscript. But how far did she still need to go?

April went by fast. The whole fourth-year class, even Liz, felt overwhelmed with the homework load the teachers were giving them. Michael asked his mother why one day in Transfiguration late in April. She told him that exams were coming up and their O.W.L.s were the next year.

"But Mum, that's next year, in fifth-year," Michael complained.

"I am perfectly aware of that, Michael," said Professor Weasley. "As I was saying, your homework assignment for tonight is to—"

"But next year!" protested Michael.

"Michael!" said Professor Weasley. "All right, where was I? Ah, yes…"

At the end of the day, Liz, Rachel, and Michael headed back to Gryffindor, the latter two groaning about the stacks of homework they had to complete for the next day. Rachel and Michael stayed in the common room, while Liz headed upstairs, saying it was calmer and quieter. While this was true, her real reason for going up to the dorm was to check for her mother's owl. She had been checking every day for a month, waiting for an answer, and praying that it wouldn't be just a blank piece of parchment again.

When she reached the dorm, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother's owl was perched on one of Liz's bedposts, waving its leg around. Liz called it down and detached the letter. Only one line was scrawled upon it: I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN SOON.

Liz almost jumped for joy. Her mother was alive! She had to tell somebody. But who? Then she realized: Chris. He would believe her. He hadn't before, but now she had proof. He had to now.

In Liz's second year, she had told Chris about the letters and how she knew her mother was alive. He hadn't taken it well. He had told her that her mother had been dead for years and she wasn't coming back. Liz got so mad that she put a Memory Charm on him so he would forget. She had felt bad, but she hadn't said anything about it since. Now she vowed not to curse him again if he didn't agree.

"Chris! Open up!" she called, pounding on the door.

Chris answered, looking puzzled. "What is it?"

"I need to tell you something, and you've got to believe me," Liz pleaded. "Come outside, I don't want Hagrid to hear."

Chris obliged, stepping over the threshold of Hagrid's cabin to the outside. Liz produced the letter. "It's from my mother. My real mother."

Chris paused, and then he took it from her. He read it over once, then again, and then another time. "Liz," he said finally, "your mother is dead."

"No, she isn't!" Liz said hotly. "That's what you said before!"

"Before?"

"In second-year! That's what you said and I put a Memory Charm on you!"

"You—you did?"

"Yes! And I've always felt bad about it, but I had to tell you now!" She sat on the grass. "There. If you don't believe me, fine."

"I don't," Chris said resolutely. "But if she does come back, you'll have proved me wrong. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Fine," said Liz, swallowing a dry sob. When Chris said it, it sounded sensible that her mother was really dead. But then when she looked at the letter, all the hopes came flooding back. "I'll go now. Sorry I bothered you."

"Don't worry. It was better than doing chores," said Chris.

Liz got up, thanked Chris, and left, their conversation weighing heavily on her heart.