First Birthday

Seras POV

The next few months passed without much incident, except for the extreme pain I was enduring to become the greatest wizard I could be. However, all good things must come to an end, and tragedy struck when Draco said his first word. I had low hopes for the personality my brother had been cultivating, but his first word solidified it when he shouted, "Mine!"

The following days leading up to our birthday were filled with Draco's constant proclamations of ownership. He would walk up to random objects in the house—whether an end table, a 14th-century tapestry, or one of his various toys—and loudly declare, "Mine!" He would then look around to ensure everyone in the vicinity understood that he had laid his proverbial claim.

Meanwhile, I had begun conversing with my parents, still trying to sound like an intelligent four-year-old rather than a full-grown adult with a master's degree. If I had been born normal, I believe I could have been the greatest child actor to ever exist. The only person who seemed to see through my act was Snape. My godfather seemed to realize I was pretending to be less intelligent than I was, though he hadn't figured out the real reason. He was a frequent guest at our home and was willing to teach me how to read, for which I will be forever grateful.

Snape would sit down next to me on one of the many chairs sprinkled around Malfoy Manor and help me sound out words. I made sure to respond in kind, doing everything I could to make him believe he was the greatest teacher known to man. The school year had not started yet, and the Potions Master had surprisingly few orders, giving him spare time he usually wouldn't have had. If only the man weren't a Death Eater, I would have thought him a poet trapped in the body of a wizard. His eyes always held a certain sadness, the only vessel to his true feelings.

My relationship with Snape continued to improve as time went on, benefiting everyone involved. Narcissa got to spend more time with Draco; Draco got the undivided attention he craved; Snape avoided spending more time with Draco; and I could finally read without it seeming weird.

With only three days left until our birthday, Narcissa brought Draco and me each a catalog and quill from the different toy shops in Diagon Alley. She told us to circle what we wanted for our birthdays. At first, I didn't believe Draco understood what he was supposed to do, but he took to it like a duck to water, dexterously circling 95% of the items in the catalog while repeating his catchphrase, "Mine!" the entire time.

I was in a much different boat than my brother. While he wanted everything, I wanted relatively nothing. I saw no joy in baby toys, and most of the toys for older children were still too young for me. Eventually, I circled a wizard chess set, a series of beginner's guides to various subjects, an interesting telescope, a microscope, and a set of quills and parchment from an ad next to a light-up flying Quidditch player that Draco had circled so many times the page might rip.

Snape came later that day for another reading lesson and told my parents he believed I would be able to read and write at a first-year level within a month. My parents even said they would let me look at the non-spell parts of the library next year. My thirst for knowledge could finally be satiated. If all went well, I might even stop experimenting on myself and use methods others had developed.

He eventually sat me down with a book about different leaves used in potions, which was fascinating for someone with a background in materials science. Potions was something I hoped would be very understandable, given my detail-oriented nature and extensive lab experience. The book was like a booklet of MSDS sheets, filled with warnings about mixing draughtleaf and wyrdroot and thousands of similar combinations. The amount of work required to become a master in the field would be countless hours, but it seemed like one of the most interesting fields for me, alongside artifact creation, spellcrafting, and healing.

While I was engrossed in my reading, Snape spoke with my parents about a proposal for me to act as his apprentice on days he had few classes and on weekends. I would help him grade multiple-choice tests, and he would teach me how to create various potions. Despite some initial resistance from my mother, she eventually agreed upon Snape's insistence that I would never spend the night away from home.

Our birthday celebration was very low-key this year. Many of the Sacred Twenty-Eight houses had not yet forgiven one another for the war, and most young witches and wizards debut around the age of seven, giving families time to ensure their children truly have magic. Of course, many pureblood families find out much earlier and plan accordingly with birthdays and parties. I had already had what my parents called a "first magical awakening." They were correct that I could use magic, but they were a little late in putting a date on it. I believe the control I've practiced since birth, both emotionally and with magic, has prevented me from exhibiting many characteristics of someone going through magical growth.

Draco and I were placed on pedestals next to a table with a great big birthday cake, which Draco, of course, called "Mine!" He chanted it as the first piece was given to him and continued when the first gifts arrived. There was a non-zero chance that everything Draco circled was given to him today; he even got more than one of the glow-in-the-dark flying Quidditch players. I had never seen him so happy. His "Mine!" even turned into a "Mine?" when the second one appeared.

I received what I asked for as well. Though it wasn't a notebook and pen, parchment and quills were good enough for the notes I planned to take during the apprenticeship Snape had arranged. I hope all my future gifts will be practical. I also gave Draco a present I had asked Dobby to get: a third glow-in-the-dark flying Quidditch player. He only needed four more to have a full Quidditch team. My baby brother was surprisingly thankful for the gift. He hugged me as we sat at the table. Never had "Mine" felt so good to be called. He did still forget to get me a gift, though.