I paced the halls of the Manor, my robes swishing behind me as I walked, trying to pretend my walking wasn't pacing, back and forth, past my calendar. Trying to pretend I didn't notice the date.

Pretending not to notice that right around now, I should have been receiving an owl from my parents, and my friends should have been crowding around me.

Wishing me a Happy Birthday.

I finally spared look at the damned calendar. I hadn't marked the fourth off, because I always did that the next morning.

But there was no use denying it.

I sighed, and looked up at the clock.


My head jerked as I heard the sound of owl talons tapping on my window.

For a split second, I almost hoped that it was my parents or Pansy or Blaise or ANYONE that would send me a nice message.

No, you won't be getting an owl from them for a loonng time. You're lucky that you've escaped being with them.

I took a breath to sturdy myself.

That damned relentless voice.

I shook my head to clear it of those thoughts, as I realized that the tapping hadn't stopped, and I rolled my eyes and made my way towards the window. Hoping and praying, that for once, it might me something nice.

Even just fucking nuetral would have been a fantastic change.

I opened the window and let the plain, small, brown owl in.

Despite the rude and vulgar letter I already knew I'd be receiving, the owl was rather nice, and it nuzzled me and nipped at my fingers softly. I smiled at it. It was a welcome change.

"Will you wait right here while I get you a treat?" I asked it, softly.

The owl blinked its large amber eyes at me and cocked its head.

"I'll take that as a yes." I smiled at it, and ran to the kitchen to grab the Owl Treats, and ran back, thankful to see that the owl was still there.

Look at how pathetic you are, an owl as your only friend.

I shook my head, and opened the bag to hand a treat to the owl.

It hooted appreciatively, and I finally untied the letter.

It didn't have a name, and I opened it and heard a flutter of wings as I saw the friendly brown owl fly out the window.

I frowned and opened the letter.

Dear Scum of the Earth,

I stopped right there, sighing as I put my face in my hands, because I already knew what this was going to be.

I walked to the fire in my rarely used guest room, and threw the letter into the hearth.

I watched it burn.

It didn't help much.

I decided I wanted something sweet after reading and opening windows for owls and letting the pile of hate-mail collect, because what else was there really to do, and decided to go get some cake or something.

Yeah, but what if someone recognizes you?

I'll go to a Muggle bakery.

I sighed, and was about to Apparate to a safe spot by the store I was going to, when I stopped and was suddenly taken back to baking with Mother, all those years ago.

"Dragon, don't pour it all in so suddenly, it'll-" My mother started, warningly, but it was too late.

I had dumped the flour into the bowl already, and a bunch flew up, covering my face and hair.

I laughed, and my slightly exasperated but amused mother smiled and rolled her eyes.

"It'll do that." She finished, and I giggled some more. I reached towards the flour jar.

"What are you doing mister?" Mother asked me suspiciously.

I grinned, and quickly grabbed a little bit of flour, and threw it at her.

Mother mocked gasped.

"You stop that mister, or I will banish you from the kitchen!" She mocked scolded, and tried not to laugh.

I went through another giggling fit, and she rolled her eyes and added baking powder to the dry mixture.

"What in Merlin's name is going on that I can hear laughter from a mile away?" Father asked, entering.

"Our son thinks it's funny to cover the entire kitchen with flour!" Mother announced, pretending to be angry.

"Mother, you're the only thing besides me that has any flour on it!" I protested happily.

"Yes, you've covered the most important things in this kitchen with it." She declared, and me and Father laughed.

"What?" She asked, grinning, knowing full well the ridiculousness of the statement she had announced.

In the background, the oven beeped, signaling the oven was preheated.

I snapped back to reality, realizing that my eyes and cheeks were wet.

Guess I might as well bake something.

I Apparated to the library, because to walk all the way across the Manor would be ridiculous, even if I wasn't as lazy as I was, and Summoned the cook book I knew we had somewhere in there. It flew to my hand and I Apparated back to the kitchen, already for the vanilla cupcake recipe.

I read it, and had to proportion it so I would just end up making five cupcakes instead of twenty, because who else was I supposed to share with?

I heard tapping at my window for what must have been the thousandth time that day already, sighed and walked towards the window to let the owl in. I untied the letter from the stunningly white snowy owl with only a bit of brown around its stomach. I reached to pet it, and expected it to bite me, but it nuzzled my hand.

I smiled and gave that one a treat too.

Pathetic, that's the highlight of your miserable fucking day.

I shook my head, and without a thought towards it, threw the letter onto the table, with the rest of my hate mail. I liked to burn it all at the end of the day.

Calming, I suppose.

I smiled and gave that one a treat too.

Pathetic, that's the highlight of your miserable fucking day.

I shook my head, and without a thought towards it, threw the letter onto the table, with the rest of my hate mail, that I liked to burn at the end of the day.

I finally found the recipe and gathered my ingredients and turned the oven on so it could pre-heat.

Time to get started, I guess

Less than forty-five minutes later, the cupcakes were baked, cooled, frosted and ready to eat. I was about to bite into one, when I realized something.


More tapping on the windows.

"Merlin damn these fucking owls..." I grumbled as I made my way to the window for the millionth time today.

I opened it, and untied the letter from the owl's leg, and absentmindedly reached out to pet the owl, but this time, it bit me.

I was so fed up with these damn owls, even when they weren't mean, and I flicked it on the beak. It squaked and took flight. I quickly shut the window, just as it charged at me.

It ran into the window, hard, and squaked again, and flew off.

That was oddly satisfying.

Woooww. You really are the fucking worst aren't you? Taking your anger out on poor owls? Owls, you monster.

I sighed and remembered what I was going to do earlier.

"Accio birthday candles." I casted, tiredly.

A large package flew into my hands.

"Accio matches."

A matchbox flew into my hands, and I grabbed a cupcake and walked them to the guest room, on the table in front of the fire.

I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed all the letters, and deposited them on the floor in front of the fire.

I sighed and sat on the floor, grabbed the candles and counted out eighteen.

I stuffed them all into the cupcake, and laughed when I realized that they all barely fit.

I lit them all on fire anyways.

I giggled when I saw the cupcake inferno in front of me.

But what to wish for?

For death, obviously.

"Go away." I growled to myself-, no, to that disgusting voice inside my damn head at all times. This time, it had crossed lines.

It didn't say anything else, and my vision refocused on the cupcake.

I laughed at the sight again.

Now, really, what to wish for?

I wish that somebody… That somebody would help me.

I shook my head, and blew out the candles.

Immediately, I was taken back.

"Make a wish, Dragon!" My mother told me, just before I blew out the candles

I wished that things would always be as good as this.

I smiled to myself and blew out the candles.

Mother, Father, Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle all cheered from around me.

I grinned as mother started cutting the cake.

I snapped back to reality once again, tears in my eyes, because now I knew.

Birthday wishes didn't always come true.

So there was no point in hoping this year, this one would come true either.

Dear escaped convict,

I threw the letter into the flames.

I opened the next one.

Why are you still alive?

I was openly crying by now, but this one made me laugh, because this one didn't even bother with a greeting, just when straight for the jugular.

Seriously, why are you still alive though? It's not like anybody would care if you died.

"Shut up." I told the voice.

I threw the letter I was holding in the fire too.

Dear Death-Eater,

This one had the same fate as the others.

If anything, they'd rejoice. The headlines would scream merrily "Death-Eater Gets The Fate He Deserves!" and everyone would throw a fucking party.

Tears streaming down my face and onto my robes, I got up to go get a towel.

And another cupcake.

Sue me, I can bake well.

As I walked to the kitchen, and grabbed another cupcake, I eyed the knives behind the cooling rack and had to stop and wonder.

How quickly would death be?

How much would it hurt?

Come on, do it! It would be the cowardly thing, but since when have you ever been brave?

"Shut up!" I exclaimed, my hands reaching up to tug at my hair, as if that would extract the voice.

I took a few breaths to steady myself.

Once I had regained myself, I walked back to the living room.

I was disgusted with myself for even considering what I had.

But then again, when was the last time I wasn't?

Just die already, drop off the face of the Earth, it would help an immense amount, and nobody cares about you.

I let the thought flow freely through my head.

So it was decided.

I thought back to the knives on the counter.

I thought about my wrists, that already had so many markings on them. I just needed to go a little deeper.

"Well, if I'm supposed to live, for some unknown fucking reason, NOW WOULD BE A GREAT TIME TO LET ME KNOW!" I shouted at the sky, to no one in particular.

"YOU'VE GOT NOTHING, HUH?" I screamed, fed up and frustrated and ready to fucking die at this point.

On my own fucking birthday, my parents and only friends were locked in Azkaban, I had a mountain of hate mail and I'M PROBABLY FUCKING INSANE.

I laughed.

It wasn't a regular laugh, like at something funny.


It was an insane, maniacal laugh, because it would be over soon.

I opened the last letter I would ever open.

"I fucking promise you, that if this letter doesn't say anywhere in it to kill myself THEN I WON'T DO IT!" I shouted

I laughed, because the chances of that were one in a billion.

Dear Malfoy,

Nobody ever started out with that.

In fact, nobody had even addressed me as that since-

I froze.

There was no way that it was-

I kept reading.

I heard it was your birthday. Happy birthday. I just wanted to write you, I suppose, because I know that… things must be tough for you right now. Listen, I know this might sound strange coming from me, and you might think I hate you, but the truth is, I don't.

And I probably never have.

So if you need anything, anything at all, I'm here, at Twelve Grimmauld Place.

I'll help you.

-Harry James Potter

And suddenly, my heart hurt.

Tears were still flowing down my face, quickly.

I didn't even think about it.

I Apparated to his house.

I got there, and knocked, quickly and loudly.

I paced on the steps, not even knowing what time it was, or if he was awake or not-

The door opened.

Harry stood in the doorway, in pajamas.

He stared at me with those cutting green eyes.

I realized that I must've looked a sight.

Usually neat blond hair all over everywhere, that I hadn't combed in Merlin knows how long, bloodshot eyes and a runny nose and robes that I hadn't changed out of in probably a week.

I stood there not knowing what to do.

And then he rushed towards me, and before I knew it, enveloped me in a hug.

I sobbed openly on his shoulder, waayyy past giving any fucks at all about controlling my emotions, or even who I was hugging.

"Help me." I whispered, in between the sobs.

"I will."