A/N: Yes, it's me again. And, no, I have not forgotten about Worst Summer. It's just in queue. I've had this idea for a while (seems like I always start a story this way- I honestly don't mean to, but it's true) and I really wanted to go ahead and write this. This takes place the year after Book 7, and I didn't have Harry, Hermione, or Ron go back to finish Hogwarts. So I guess they are working in their respective fields. You'll probably have some questions after reading this (actually, you should!) but you will find out in due time. Not as bad of a cold open as Worst Summer, but I'm letting the premise unfold as I go along. So, that's the best summary I can give you I'm afraid : ( Once I get up the next chapter you'll have a better understanding of the story and I can give more away. Hope you enjoy!
Sun streamed in the dusty windows of the tiny flat, landing on the varnished wood underfoot. She paced back and forth very slowly, softly wringing her hands. Eyes lost and faraway, she gazed at the sparkling beams, particles of dust floating in the sunlight. A sigh escaped the woman's lips and she retreated to the bed, gingerly sitting on the coverlet and smoothing out the edges.
Her fingers glided across the orange and white, tracing the patterns on the quilt. She watched her hand dance across the fabric, stopping suddenly when a glint caught her eye. Spreading her fingers across the palm of her other hand, she watched as sparkling rainbows bounced about the adjacent wall, twinkling prisms triggered by the light of the sun. Another sigh.
Twisting the metal band around her finger, she finally shifted her gaze to the hanging calendar on the wall: June 25, 1999. Today was the day, or so she had been told. Maybe he wouldn't go through with it, but more than likely he would. Choices had been made; she had made hers, and he did the same. Maybe he thought it was over. But did that mean it was too late?
She glanced at the bedside table, running her eyes over the meticulously organized objects that graced its surface. An ornate desk lamp set on the corner, next to a pile of neatly stacked books- each one read at least a dozen times. Among them were A Winter's Tale, Moste Potente Potions, Elves are People Too, Magical Me with a get well card wedged inside, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and Hogwarts, a History- whose pages had been turned more than any other.
An antique hourglass rested on the opposite corner, a birthday gift from several years before. The gold was slightly tarnished and it had lost some of its sand, but she treasured the outmoded bauble despite its many flaws. Behind it stood a wooden picture frame, a black and white photo positioned flawlessly behind the glass. Three figures were smiling and waving at her, the fourth one nowhere to be found.
Usually the moving portrait contained two boys and two girls, but the redheaded female was gone. The woman spotted herself in the picture, a much happier version of her current self, and watched as her tiny black and white hands wrapped around the waist of one of the boys.
After staring at the tiny square for longer than she could bear, the woman clenched her jaw and stood swiftly, straightening her back and allowing the rest of her body to go tense. Swiveling to face the bed, she glanced across to the other side, her eyes briefly landing on the cluttered end table, surrounded by a heap of dirty undergarments.
Pushing the image out of her mind, she bent down to the dust ruffle, carefully reaching for something beneath the curtain of fluttering black. Her hands eventually wrapped around a bundle of dusty cardboard, dragging it to the surface with great effort. Heaving the heavy box onto the bed, she exhaled a small grunt of frustration before wiping the perspiration from her brow.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she tentatively opened the crinkled flaps, covered in a layer of thick, white powder. Sprinkles of the snowy residue wafted into the air, causing the woman to crinkle her nose and turn away, covering her mouth with her sleeve. Two sneezes later, she returned her gaze to the dusty parcel, yet another sigh making its presence known.
Inside the box were stacks upon stacks of letters, some yellowed with age, others crisp and smudged. A sad smile spread across the woman's lips as she reached for the topmost envelope, cradling it in her hands for fear of adding to its wrinkles. Bringing the folded parchment to her nose, she breathed in the familiar scent, sending chills down her spine as she started to open the letter.
She ran her index finger beneath the crease, stained with time and dampness. Removing the parchment from its vessel, she unfolded the letter and drifted to the bed, sinking into the comforter as she read:
Dear Harry,
A/N: I know it was short, but I wanted to just put this little introduction out to see what happens. The next few chapters will probably be longer. I will go ahead and say that there won't be very much dialogue in this fic, but the descriptions won't be as tedious either. Actually, the descriptions are pretty much over : P This was basically the background chapter, and I have something a little different in store for the rest of this work. Hope you liked it! Looking forward to reviews.
lilymione1203