BLACK {1} harry potter

Chapter Thirteen

December 13th, 1991 we awoke to find Hogwarts surrounded by several feet of snow. Apparently last night there was a rather big winter storm. Any of the owls that were able to deliver mail through the storm had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid; he had explained the situation to us this morning at breakfast.

Nonetheless it was Friday, so I was now headed to another lesson with Professor Dumbledore. November had been filled with boring classes and a month full of Elemental history lessons. Every lesson since my first Quidditch match, was spent by reading The History of Elementals 101 or talking about some random topic that simply popped into Professor Dumbledore's head.

I was nearing the Headmaster's tower, turning the last corner, when I bumped into a tall figure. With billowing, black robes and a scowling look on his face, I gave an awkward smile as I stepped around Professor Snape and mumbled a soft apology before continuing my way.

"Happy Birthday," I heard lowly called. I whipped around not expecting anyone here to know. Snape was smiling sadly at me. "I know it's not until tomorrow. Regardless." He nodded before turning the corner.

And this man was supposedly planning to hurt me? For reasons like these, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't help the part in me that trusted Snape. Perhaps it had something to do with him and my mother's friendship.

"Good afternoon, Professor," I hummed as I sat down in my usual chair within Dumbledore's office. It still made that signature squeak as my weight settled in it. There was a cheerful smile on my face despite my feeling that I would likely be reading again today.

"Ah," he smiled with a certain twinkle in his eye. "Someone seems chipper today."

I shrugged nonchalantly, moving my brunette locks out of my face. "I'm happy everyday. I don't know what you mean."

He chuckled warmly before pulling a small, brown package from a drawer in his desk. "Happy Birthday Sarah."

My eyes widened as I glanced at the square package before me. A birthday gift. I don't think I'd ever gotten one before in my life. "Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled, "Go on and take it. It's not everyday a young girl turns eleven." I hesitantly grabbed the package, unwrapping it slowly as I relished in the act of it. It was a type of candy, a kind I'd never heard of before. "Sugared Butterfly Wings," he shrugged. "They were your mother's favorite."

I scanned the package over, skimming my fingers over the green tin. It was strange to hear things about my mother; I don't think I would ever get used to it. I felt a wide smile spread across my face.

Before Hogwarts, the Dursleys never mentioned our parents. The most they would do is use the mention of them as an insult for us to work harder at our chores, but here our parents were well-known, like legends.

Yet, I still felt my parents were more of a mystery because people rarely mentioned my father and mother by name. Whereas Harry would get a huge conversation about having his mother's eyes or the characteristics of his father, I would get a mere mention of my parents dying.

Dumbledore and a few other people were the only ones to mention my parents by name or by their personality at all. This struck a chord of curiosity in me, but part of me knew not to ask why. I smiled sadly at the package, "I've never seen them before."