Magic (5sos/l.h. Hogwarts AU)

Chapter 38

~A/N~ I'm not sure if I've already said this but I did well in my AS mocks and there isn't a single day when I'm not getting asked about Uni
Enjoy the chapter!
Leila xx

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHAEL!" we all chorused, jumping on top of my friend who had been lying dead to the world in his castle-like bed with scarlet curtains pulled tightly shut.

"W...what?" he asked wearily, opening one eye while the other appeared to be glued shut. 

"It's the 20th November, that's your birthday, right?" Calum gasped as though we had got the wrong date. To be fair, we didn't celebrate birthdays often as there were so many throughout the year, so we likely could have got it wrong accidentally.

"No, it's my birthday..." Michael trailed off, looking confused, before he saw the various wrapped boxes and smiled widely. "Are we celebrating?"

"Yep!" Ashton grinned widely, flopping down on the musty carpet and beckoning for us all to form a circle. And so we did, Ginny on one side of me and Luke on the other, while all my other friends and various people in our house bickered over their spots separately.

"He looks happy, for the first time in a while," I commented quietly to Ginny, but Hermione heard and leaned closer.

"What do you mean, 'for the first time in a while'? Is everything ok with him?"

Ginny nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again. "It's complicated."

"Family issues," I added, and Hermione nodded knowingly, a grim look hanging on her face like a mask of sadness. Although not everyone knew the ins and outs of Michael familial situation, his parents were extremely well-known in the Ministry, especially among ex-Death Eaters, and the name 'Clifford' meant bad news to anyone that didn't immediately associate it with Michael.

As Michael was a Gryffindor, best friends with two muggleborns and blood traitors, it was easy for anyone with even a speck of intuition to figure out he had been practically cast out of the family. Even Ron, who was nothing more than a dimwit, was careful talking about Slytherins or complaining about pure-blood families in front of him.

The ghostly boy wasn't entirely oblivious to all this, though often exaggerated some of the stares he would get when people discovered he was a child of the feared Karen and Daryl Clifford.

"I feel like everyone's looking at me," he had said, for example, at the Welcome Feast after the first years had been sorted. It had in fact just been one person staring, but his imagination had made it seem as though eyes were boring into him from every angle.

The whispers behind his back proved his point though.

"Is it true his parents are actually Death Eaters?"

"I heard he's only friends with Leila and Calum so he can sell their souls to You-Know-Who."

"Yeah, he's actually a Slytherin. It's just a rumour he's a Gryffindor."

"No, I dare you to speak to him! He might set his parents on me, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Leila, are you there?" I tumbled back to Earth with a jolt as I noticed Ashton waving his hand in front of my face. "It's your turn to give Michael your present."

I averted my eyes to see Michael sitting in a sea of scraps and presents, with a smile shining brighter than the sun. There were so many of us, he had got more presents than I could count - one from everyone in his dorm, Ginny, Hermione and I, and Fred and George. Parvati and Lavender had also left him a box of chocolates, which we were all heartily digging into at that moment.

Passing him the badly wrapped box - although I had charmed the lions on the wrapping paper to leap around and roar - I waited eagerly as he tore off the paper.

"A new wizard's chess set! Thanks, Leila!"

"Ashton will still beat you every time!" Fred called from his position on one of the beds, and we all chuckled.

***
"You know what the best birthday present was?" Michael said as he strolled outside with Luke and I in tow, to get a breath of fresh air. 

"What?" I smiled.

"Ravenclaw absolutely flattening Hufflepuff in the quidditch match."

Luke's face visibly brightened at this, his skin giving off an angelic glow. "I know! Gryffindor is back in the match, we have a chance of getting the house cup now!"

As I was hopeless at quidditch and generally didn't have much of an interest in the sport, the actual scoring system meant nothing to me but the relief of finding out we once again had the possibility of winning the cup had washed over me like a bucket of warm water, leaving a tingly sensation all over - after all, house patriotism was essential to be in Hogwarts.

Although, my house patriotism had been constantly lowering since I had made the discovery I should have been in Ravenclaw.

"This has been the best birthday ever!" Michael sighed happily, throwing himself down behind a towering willow, a welcome barrier from the wailing wind ruffling against us.

"And Christmas is soon, it's all going great!" added Luke, before his face fell. "Actually, I have to stay with my grandparents, so not so great."

"At least you celebrate Christmas," I countered. "I'll just be bored and lonely in my house for a while, because my grandma says it's too cold for anyone to be outside."

"At least you won't be at home with your horrid family, or stuck in school with no one to talk to," Michael said, and I instantly regretted complaining until an idea struck me.

"Why don't you come and stay with me for the holidays?"

"Really? Will your parents mind?"

"Of course not, they won't be home to see you much but my mum likes to treat my friends like family."

"Then I'd love to!"

"I'll write home and ask."

***
Hi mum,
How are things at home? I hope everyone misses me, but they'll see me soon enough at Christmas break. Speaking of Christmas break, my friend Michael doesn't have anywhere to stay and he doesn't really want to stay at school on his own so can he stay with us?
School is fine. My lessons are alright. I'm doing pretty well. My grades are good. Don't worry about me.
Love, Leila

Hopefully that would be enough detail, for my mother didn't really care about the goings on at school but wanted to know about my grades when on the odd occasion I would write specifically to her.

"Go on, Kika, take that home," I nudged my tiny bird and she hooted once in reply before soaring off into the distance, becoming a simple speck on the horizon within seconds. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.