Chapter 13: The Lucky Seven

The following Saturday, Seraphim woke up with a smile on her face and sighed contentedly. Firstly, it was the beginning of the winter holiday, which meant no classes, less people, and sleeping in. Secondly, it was December twelfth, Seraphim's seventeenth birthday.

Looking at her bedside clock, Seraphim groaned knowing that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would not be up for at least another hour. She grumbled softly and debated going back to sleep even with the excitement of a delicious few weeks of holiday in front of her. Wrapping herself in the quilt, she looked around the room for ways to pass the time before the others woke up.

Each gift from her mysterious benefactor had found a place in her room. The aforementioned quilt was usually folded neatly on her bed, ready for whenever she decided to go to sleep. The vase of glowing stars sat near her clock, illuminating the hands when it was still too dark to see. On her dressing table sat the onyx music box and inside were the attachable star charms. Over on the other side of the room, lying on her desk, was the journal. A picture of each gift along with the accompanying note had been pasted to a few pages in the back. Also on the desk was the Gryffindor-color rose. It was in a small sake (rice wine) bottle along with a few sprays of red and gold decorating stars. The air around Seraphim's desk was heavily perfumed with the delicious scent.

Looking around her room, she spotted a pile of presents from friends, a handful of students and professors, and her parents. Grinning devilishly, she pounced. Wrapping paper and ribbons flew through the air as she unwrapped boxes of candy (from favorite students), books (from professors), and a few choice gifts. Her favorites were the miniature harp that played back any melody sung (from Harry), a new set of dress robes in midnight blue (from her parents along with a letter telling her about Timbuktu), and a set of scented candles (from her Aunt).

Just as she was cleaning up her mess, a gray and white-flecked falcon swooped through her window with a letter. Seraphim looked at the bird curiously; it definitely didn't belong to anyone she knew. Taking the letter, she opened it and began to read.

'Seraphim! This is the gang, aka Jesse, Darius, and Lillian. We met in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago and decided to make a day of shopping. Safiya's idea. So, how are you? Good I hope. Keeping them boys at arm's length? If you need any of us to come down and do a little damage control, it's no problem at all. Lillian included.

Also, Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be seventeen? You'll notice we didn't include a present with this letter. And for a good reason! You see that bird? The pretty one that brought you the letter? We decided that you needed a mode of communication so we decided to buy you the falcon! Hope you like him. Yes, it is a him; we checked.

Um, guess that's it. We'll see you at Christmas! We'll be arriving on the twentieth.

Love,

Lillian, Darius, and Jesse'

Seraphim looked from the letter to the bird perched contentedly on the back of her desk chair.

"All right, so you're mine," she said, half to herself and half to the bird. "I'm going to have to think of a name for you."

The falcon flew over and nipped at her affectionately. "Hmm…" Seraphim thought for a moment. "How about I call you Julian? Do you like that?" The falcon only nipped at her again. "All right, Julian it is." She offered the bird some leftover crackers and quickly cleaned up the wrapping paper scattered around her floor.

Just then, the door burst open and Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed in shouting their greeting. They each wished her happy birthday and took turns looking over the various presents she'd received.

"What are you planning to do today?" asked Harry.

"Um…" Seraphim looked at the ceiling, "I don't really know. My parents won't be able to come around this holiday season because of work and my other friends aren't going to be here until the end of the month to celebrate." She shrugged, "Hang around the castle, I guess."

Ron noted Harry sigh with relief and thought that finally, finally, Seraphim wasn't delusional and had gotten over Malfoy and maybe Harry would ask her to dinner for that night. Unfortunately, Ron hadn't counted on the owl.

The owl flew in through the still-open window and Julian snapped at it. The disgruntled owl dropped a piece of parchment in Seraphim's lap and left with an indignant hoot. Ron jumped up and closed the window irritably.

Seraphim looked over the letter with a confused expression.

'Seraphim,

First, I'd like to wish you a happy birthday. I've got a present for you and I'd like to give it to you tonight. Please meet me in the room of requirement at nine tonight. I promise all your questions will be answered.'

Seraphim stared at the parchment for a good five minutes before Hermione impatiently snatched it from her hands.

"Oh my…"

Ron leaned over Hermione's shoulder to read the letter. "Wait, wait, wait…who's this bloke?" he asked crossly.

Seraphim shrugged again. "I've no idea. They've been leaving me presents since last month. Harry knows who it is," she glared pointedly at the-boy-who-lived, "but he's not telling me a thing."

"She wouldn't believe me even if I told her," Harry said as a side comment to Ron and Hermione.

"Who is it!" Seraphim grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him lightly.

Harry just grinned cheekily. "I'm not allowed to tell you. Just go and meet him tonight, okay?"

Ron looked confusedly from Harry to Seraphim and back to Harry again. Hermione had a look of suspicion and understanding written on her features. She began to whisper furiously into Harry's ear.

"No, I'm not saying a word. You can guess all you like," he said, raising his hands in defense.

Seraphim hmph-ed huffily.

The day was spent throwing snowballs and making hot chocolate and Seraphim still wasn't sure she should go and meet whoever-it-was.

She paced in her room while Hermione laid an outfit on her bed. "Just go."

"But what if I don't like them?" the older girl asked worriedly. "I don't want to hurt their feelings."

Hermione handed her a black slip dress, "Go."

"But-"

"You'll never know if you don't go. I'm sure it won't be all that bad," Hermione reasoned, pulling out a navy blue robe.

"But-"

"You think too much. I'm telling you, you'll feel better if you go," Hermione succeeded in stuffing Seraphim into the clothes.

After a little more pushing and prodding, Seraphim was standing outside the room of requirement. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, holding her breath.

The room was relatively normal looking: a desk, a sofa, some books, a fireplace. There was a table with two chairs near the left-hand side of the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seraphim took a seat at the table to wait. It was eight fifty-seven.

The fire crackled merrily and Seraphim looked around. There was no one else in the room yet. Perhaps she'd been stood up. Or maybe he was running late. She checked the wall clock; it was eight fifty-eight.

Seraphim began drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Where was he? She crossed and uncrossed her legs, finally deciding to sit Indian style on the desk chair. She maneuvered her legs so that she was perfectly balanced on the mahogany piece of furniture. It was eight fifty-nine.

Seraphim counted the seconds. Forty-five…how long did he want her to wait for him? Thirty…bugger, she had things she could be doing. Twenty…she was still all alone in the room and getting irritable. Fifteen…she fidgeted and nearly fell over. Ten…she ticked the seconds off on her fingers.

Five…four…three…two…one…

A long, rectangular box appeared on the table. Seraphim looked at it skeptically. She finally decided it was harmless and opened it.

Inside was a white-gold box-chain. Seraphim picked it up carefully and examined the pendant hanging on the end. There were two opal dolphins facing each other and holding a sphere of iridescent glass. Turning the pendant slowly, Seraphim realized it was glowing. Taking a closer look, she spotted a crystal star in the center of the glass sphere that gave off a soft light.

"Happy birthday, I hope you liked my presents." Someone was behind her.

Seraphim froze. Internally debating whether or not to turn around, she shut her eyes tightly and concentrated. "Yes…yes, I did like them very much," she replied, still not facing whoever was speaking to her. "Thank you."

"It was no trouble at all if it made you happy," they said softly, Seraphim could feel a soft breath on her ear as she cupped the last present in the palms of her hands.

"They did make me happy. Very much so," Seraphim leaned back slightly, feeling warm all of a sudden coming into contact with the living, breathing human standing behind her.

"Let me help you put that on." He took the necklace from her hands and strung it around her neck, securing the clasp under her hair.

Seraphim opened her eyes slowly. She knew that voice. Didn't she? "Why?"

A male voice chuckled, "Why what?"

"Why all these presents?" she asked.

"Didn't you read the first message?" he chastised jokingly. "'To win fair lady's heart'."

Seraphim sighed contentedly.

"Have I done a good job?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

Biting her lower lip, Seraphim closed her eyes again. "I'm not sure." She had to find out who it was sooner or later. Oh well, no time like the present. She opened her eyes, looking down at her feet, and turned around slowly.

She saw black shoes. Letting her gaze travel upward, she took in the long limbs and lean, muscular build. She figured he was on one of the house Quidditch teams. She let her gaze linger around his abdomen, letting her cowardice get the best of her.

She felt fingers forcing her chin gently up. She blinked.

That face, the smirk, and the all-too-familiar silver-mercury eyes threatening to swallow her whole. She was drowning. The fight or flight survival instinct kicked in and, before her brain could register, she had backed away from those eyes, turned, and fled the room, her thoughts scattered.

Alone again, Draco Malfoy slammed his hand into the table and swore colorfully.