"I am no bird, and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." – Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre.
Lily's seventeenth birthday, the 7th of December, dawned bright and clear. As usual, we had been wakened by the annual James Potter display of affection: lily petals spiralling in under the door, and covering the whole room, so that it felt as though it was snowing inside as well as out. When I was younger, I used to think that such gestures would be romantic, but as I have grown up, I realise that there is a time and a place for such gestures. Seven o'clock in the morning when you are trying to find your school uniform is not one of them.
Lily was rolling her eyes as she Vanished all of the creamy petals from her chest of drawers, searching. I smiled wryly at her, the amusement evident upon my face. Sharing my sense of humour, she stood up, mission accomplished and tights in hand.
"You know, I think I would like my parents to send me some money for my birthday. It would mean that I could pay for Potter to attend a 'What Women Want' course. Do you actually think that he considers the the female population like to be inundated with the dead leaves of the plant kingdom, or is he merely trying to rile me?"
I adopted her mock-serious tone.
"Hmmm. What an interesting observation into the minds of men. Do know where they might host such a course? If no Society for the Improvement of Women's Rights is holding such an event, perhaps we might consider giving one of our own. I certainly have much to say on the pleasure of hearing one's own name, rather than that of farmyard animals. Half the time I feel a strange sense of panic when I hear a guy call me 'duck', or 'chick', expecting to turn around and see escaped fowls flapping about the place."
Lily's eyes crinkled in amusement, as I continued.
"In all seriousness, though, I think it might be a sad case of the former option – that he actually believes that being calf-deep in flower petals is a desirable experience. Though I do wonder how he would manage to find all of his stuff if his dormitory were in such a state as ours, given that the boys' floor is their equivalent of our wardrobe."
At this point, Katie, never a morning person, had decided for once to engage her brain at such an early hour in the morning.
"And how would you know about the state of the boys' dormitory?"
"Well…" I smiled coyly and batted my eyelashes at her.
She and Lily both raised their eyebrows sceptically at me. Alice emerged from the bathroom to find an interesting tableau; Lily and Katie were doing excellent impressions of women who had just received a botox injection to the forehead, and I was smirking (but also blushing, slightly, because I could never mention physical interaction with the male sex without my face pinking).
"Why are we all staring at Rose?" Alice interjected.
"We were rather surprised following her remarks on the state of the boys' dormitory. We know her rather too well to believe what she is trying to insinuate." explained Katie, eyebrows still halfway to her hairline.
I chuckled and discontinued the façade.
"You were all there." I admonished. "Remember, in third year when we were playing truth and dare and I had to go and steal a shoe from the Marauders' dorm?"
"Oh yeah," reminisced Katie, "and I made Lily steal Potter's boxer shorts."
Lily gave a mock-glower, as Alice chuckled.
"Just imagine Potter's face if he knew that you had rifled through his underwear drawer…"
"Or underwear floor." I stated. "Thank goodness that our possessions are safely tucked away from this maelstrom of flowers. I can't imagine how the boys' would react to such an imposture."
I had half-turned towards my wardrobe, ready to wade through the petals to collect my uniform, but the expression on Lily's face grabbed my attention.
"Maybe we don't have to imagine…" she grinned, dashing over to her bedside and grabbing her Charms textbook. Rifling though, she exclaimed triumphantly as she arrived at the correct page.
"Translocation charm for multiple, small objects. How do you feel about your wandwork this early in the morning?"
It took a few attempts, but after fifteen minutes we had successfully managed to relocate the plethora of petals from our dorm to that of the Sixth Year Boys. What I wouldn't have given to see the expression on their faces when they awoke to find themselves knee-deep in lilies.
After this amusing interjection, Lily's birthday began as all of our birthdays have done for the past six years, with all four of us settled on Lily's bed, watching her open her presents. From her parents, she received a beautiful watch, which I had told her parents was the traditional coming-of-age gift in the wizarding world. Excitedly, I thrust my present in front of her. Upon opening it in her meticulous fashion, which involved being ever so gentle so as not to rip the paper, she discovered a set of old-fashioned leather-bound books, one written by each of the Bronte sisters. There was Wuthering Heights by Emily, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Her face lit up as she read the spines, and she flung her arms around me in her idiosyncratic bear hug.
Lily and I had read Jane Eyre in third year together, taking it in turns to read a chapter out loud to each other. From time immemorial, women have fallen in love with the passionate and rugged Mr Rochester. Neither of us were an exception. From the moment that Rochester's words 'My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.' had fallen from my lips (I was reading chapter 37), a lifelong passion for the novel had been kindled within each of us. As a fellow bibliophile, Lily shared my appreciation of old, musty leather-bound editions of books.
Presents opened and bags packed, we made our way down to breakfast, Katie and Alice in front, checking the area for any stray and ill-intentioned Marauders, with me in the rear. It was rather comical to see Katie tip-toe up to each corner, cautiously poking her head around, before declaring: "The area is safe; repeat, the area is safe." She did have rather a flair for the dramatic, but unfortunately for my entertainment, she did not perform any commando rolls.
We managed to arrive at breakfast unmolested, although I noticed Potter sauntering over, and quickly pulled Lily down to sit at the nearest table. Moments later, I discovered this to be the Hufflepuff Table. However, it was no matter – the Hufflepuffs are a friendly lot, and we were immediately accosted by a pair of twins in our year, whom I knew from my Charms class were Izzy and Rochelle Penagon.
"Hey Rose! And Happy Birthday, Lily!" exclaimed Izzy.
"Thanks." replied Lily. "How are you guys doing?"
"Excellent, thanks." replied Izzy (or possibly Rochelle.) "All the better for the waffle selection this morning."
"Ooh, waffles!" exclaimed Lily. "Definitely having some of those!"
"Not so fast, young padawan!" I interjected, moving the waffle plate out of her reach. "Before you fill up on waffles, you must first sample some cake!"
With a flourish, I ended the invisibility spell which I had placed on the Levitated cake I had made yesterday. It was an triple layer orange sponge with a white chocolate filling and dark chocolate icing.
"Cake for breakfast?" asked Rochelle, sceptically.
"Um, yeah!" exclaimed a pair of voices concurrently.
Lily looked round in surprise to find Potter behind us, his eyes fixed on the plate. A spasm of panic passed across her face at the realisation that she had just agreed on something with him, before his attention turned from the cake to accosting the object of his undying obsession and fidelity.
"Evans!" his voice was now almost an octave deeper – about a diminished seventh, I would judge. "Felicitations! Many Happy Returns! Bonne Anniversaire! Buon complean- "
"Thank you," Lily stated, in her long-suffering tone. "Enjoy your breakfast."
"Oh, we will," another male voice interjected. "Especially when there is a Rose Logan specialty on offer! Are we going to sing "Happy Birthday" so we can cut the mouth-watering vision before us?"
It was my turn to roll my eyes. Adopting my suave polite mode, my armour when it came to Sirius Black, I swivelled slighting in my seat to find all four of the Marauders behind us. My polished facial expression almost cracked to see a lily petal resting on top of Peter's ear, but I managed not to give in to the urge to chuckle.
"I don't recall offering you a piece, Black."
"Aw, you wouldn't be so cold-hearted as to deny us poor, starving boys a morsel of your famed creations. I still have fantasies about that chocolate cake you made for Katie's birthday last summer."
Quelling the quirking of Katie's lips with a warning glare, and my own blush with all the dignity that I could muster, I answered –
"You will have to ask Lily for a piece, seeing as it is her cake."
Eight eyes turned to Lily with supplicating looks, even those belonging to Remus.
She sighed, but considering the ample girth of the cake, then nodded.
"I will give you each a piece on the condition that you leave myself and my friends to ourselves for the rest of the day. No flowers, no chocolates, no birthday parties. No pranks. No direct address to me. No singing me 'Happy Birthday' after this cake has been cut. Agreed?"
Potter looked mournfully at her, but in the contest between a day of showering Lily with affection and a day with cake, the cake appeared to win, after an elbow in the ribs from Pettigrew.
"Agreed."
Black punched the air, and my stomach flipped to realise that his verbose flattery had not merely been a tool to sample the cake, but a sincere appraisal of my cooking talents. Whilst the way to a man's heart lies through his stomach, the way to a woman's is most certainly through honest praise of her talents.
In any case, that was the cunning manner in which Lily acquired a Potter-free day for the entirety of her birthday. She ought to have been in Slytherin. Or at least pursued her talents in a career in Law.