The Art of Dying - R. Black

thirty nine

May 11th, 1979

"Happy birthday!"

I shielded my eyes from the sun as the curtains around my bed were ripped open. It was far too early, and I was far too exhausted. After my patrol last night, I met Regulus in the Astronomy Tower, and we stayed there until well past three in the morning talking.

"You're eighteen!" Emmeline chimed.

I pressed my forehead into my pillow and gave her a thumbs up. "Yup, the big one eight," I mumbled.

"You seem exhausted, did the patrol run late last night?" Maggie asked.

I turned onto my back and sat up in bed, the duvet pooling around my waist.

"Uh-, yeah, a bit," I lied.

I know that people always make a big deal out of birthdays, but I don't get the fuss. Instead of being 'one year older', or 'one year closer to adulthood'; I am an adult, and now it just seems like 'one year closer to the inevitability of death'.

"Happy birthday, Meredith," Lucy chimed once I was up and out of bed.

I smiled, "Thanks, Lucy."

I got dressed, changing out of my pajamas and into my uniform. Since the weather was warming up, I wore my skirt, white button-up, and Gryffindor tie. My blonde hair was straight, falling halfway down my back, and my dark circles were less noticeable by the time that Emmeline, Maggie, and I headed down to the common room to meet the boys for breakfast.

"Oh, flowers!" Maggie said, excitedly. "Where'd those come from?"

I followed her gaze over to the coffee table. There was a big vase of red tulips sitting on the oak table, standing out against the dullness of the common room.

Thomas picked the note off of the vase and held it out.

"They're for Meredith," He stated, extending the note towards me. "Happy birthday, by the way."

"For me?" I asked.

Emmeline leaned over my shoulder to look at the note. Sure enough, my name was written on the parchment, in a familiar handwriting, sealed with wax.

"You have a secret admirer!" Maggie cheered. "Are tulips your favorite flower or something?"

"No, I don't have one," I answered.

Jack, who was sitting on the couch, rolled his eyes.

"Well, go on birthday girl, who's it from?" He asked, staring at me.

I stepped away from everyone's peering eyes and peeled open the wax seal. On the parchment, in perfect cursive, it read:

Happy birthday, princess.

- R

I smiled, my cheeks going pink.

"Oh, come on, who's it from?" Emmeline questioned.

I folded up the note and put it into my book bag.

"It doesn't say," I lied.

I walked back towards the coffee table, examining the red tulips. They were beautiful, and they smelled amazing.

"Liar," Jack teased. "An anonymous note wouldn't make you blush."

Emmeline shushed him, sitting down beside him on the couch.

"That is too cute!" Maggie said. "You know what tulips symbolize, right?"

Thomas frowned, "No, were we supposed to learn that in Herbology?"