A Birthday

August 22nd, 1936

Her birthday was ruined. Charis blamed it all on Ella. Only inwardly of course, because as far as the Black family was concerned, Ella didn't exist.

Charis had watched from the door as her uncle Cygnus had burned Ella from the tapestry. She remembered when they were younger and they had traced the gold threads with their fingers, wondering whose name would one day rest beside theirs. When she was six she had watched in awe as the words 'Lucretia, 1925' had magically embroidered themselves underneath 'Arcturus' and 'Melania McMillan'.But no gold line would ever connect with 'Cedrella, 1917'. All that remained was a blackened hole and the faint scent of charred cloth.

Her cousin Dorea sat beside her on the stairs. They were quiet as they listened to the shouting coming from the study.

"This has nothing to do with you, Cygnus! She was my daughter, and I will deal with her!"

Charis winced ever so slightly at his use of past tense. The cut was still raw.

"I'm not talking about dealing with her, Arcturus! I'm talking about dealing with the press!"

"Do you think I haven't thought about that?!"

"Well you certainly haven't done anything about it!"

"What is there to do?! The damage is done!"

"Pull some strings! Make them print an apology! Do whatever you must to ensure that our name is not besmirched by such filth!"

Arcturus dropped his voice, and the girls had to lean closer to hear what was being said.

"I'm not the only one whose family has been besmirched by filth", he said.

There was silence. Charis looked at Dorea questioningly, and immediately wished she hadn't. Dorea's face had gone white, her hand held to her mouth.

"That filth has been eradicated", said Cygnus, and his voice was dangerous.

"Rather convenient that you were working in the records department at the time, wasn't it?"

"It has nothing to do with convenience. I did what was necessary. And now you have to."

"You don't need to lecture me, Cygnus. This isn't another Phineas."

"Make sure it isn't."

There was the sound of movement, and the girls hurriedly retreated to the sunroom. When Cygnus entered a few minutes later, they were lounging languidly on a couch, apparently discussing the benefits of a new style of dress robes.

"Time to leave", said Cygnus gruffly, and his youngest daughter obeyed instantly.

"Happy Birthday", whispered Dorea, kissing her cousin on the cheek.

"Thank-you."

"I'll see you on the first."

Charis nodded, suddenly dreading going back to Hogwarts.

She gazed out the window, only distantly hearing the door slamming and the pop as her relatives disapparated. She'd been looking forward to being seventeen for so long. As the second youngest of all her cousins she was always treated like a child. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been excluded or sent to bed early because she 'wasn't old enough.' Being seventeen was supposed to change all that. But it hadn't. Instead all she had was more secrets, and an empty feeling in her heart. The night before she'd woken up at midnight, and strained her ears for the sound of soft footsteps in the hall outside. But none had come, and with a jolt, she'd realised they never would again. She wondered if she'd ever get used to that jolt. If she'd ever get used to the fact that Ella was gone.

But she wasn't supposed to think that. She was supposed to believe that Ella had never been there in the first place.

The sound of flapping disrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see a large, brown owl hovering over her head.

"Plato!" she cried, delighted. He hooted, and landed on the arm of the couch. Carefully, Charis untied the parcel he was carrying.

Dear Charis, read the note inside. Happy Birthday! Can't believe you're seventeen (although it's about time). Hope you have an amazing birthday and a magical year. See you soon, Lucille.

Charis scratched her eye, and was surprised to discover her finger came away wet. Hurriedly, she tore the paper off the present. It was a silver necklace, gleaming in the late afternoon sun that was currently streaming through the windows. A large, jade, 'C' hung delicately in the centre. Three days ago, Charis would have thought it was beautiful. But now, it just seemed like a silly trinket. Exactly the sort of thing that flashy Lucille would wear.

She put it aside and gazed out the window again. She was seventeen. She could do magic outside school. She could go for her apparition test. She was an adult. But all she wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before. She wanted to be sixteen again.