Written for the: Quidditch League Game #3
Playing for the: Ballycastle Bats Quidditch Team
In the position of: Chaser #3
Against the: Wimbourne Wasps Quidditch Team
With the game topic of: Write a story using your team name as your prompt. In this case I need to use the word Bat(s)!
Using the prompts: (word) Varnish, (colour) Lilac, (quote) 'Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud' - Maya Angelou, (word count) 2551-2750
Having the word count of: 2569 in Google Docs!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to with Harry Potter or the lovely world that was created by the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Thanks: To my wonderful team and Haley! Thank you for taking time out of your day to look at my work, give me feedback, and make suggestions. I truly appreciate it, especially now!
A Rainbow in Her Clouds
Delicate bits of crystallized ivory cascaded from the grey, cloud-cloaked sky to blanket the quiet lane leading to Hogsmeade. There was a biting chill woven throughout the strong currents of wind that accompanied the descending white flurries, making it difficult for Harry to really appreciate the mesmerizing display as he trudged through the snow. The frigid air tore at the exposed skin of his face and neck in a distracting assault, forcing him to pull the heavy hood of his cloak further down over his face for protection. As a result, Harry's vision was obscured, and he was forced to stare at the ground while he made his way tirelessly through the storm.
The weather was far too terrible for anyone to be out and about. It was the sort of morning that would have been better spent enjoying the storm from the tranquil warmth of home. Harry thought of the comfy chair beside the stone fireplace in his sitting room and felt a pang of desperate longing. He would give almost anything to be in the cozy shelter of the cottage he shared with his beautiful wife. However, he had needed to do some early morning shopping, and there was one more stop on his list before he could make a hasty return home.
His last destination was Honeydukes Sweetshop on the High Street of Hogsmeade, a place he'd found himself frequenting more and more often over the last few months. It seemed so strange to Harry that he hadn't stepped foot in Hogsmeade once after leaving Hogwarts, though the village held so many memories for him. He had been far too preoccupied with piecing his life together after the defeat of Voldemort. Now, years later, he was suddenly visiting the old village every couple of days, dredging up nostalgic thoughts of times long past and making new memories for his collection.
A smile tugged one corner of his mouth up into a lopsided grin when he thought of the reason behind his recent visits to Hogsmeade. Each trip began and ended because of the love he held in his heart for Hermione. She was a beautiful spark of radiance in what would be, without her, an otherwise dreary life. To Harry she was the rarest of diamonds, yet she didn't see herself in the same light that he did. Whenever he tried to tell Hermione exactly why she was such an amazing person, his wife would give him a humoring smile. But, Harry knew she didn't really believe all of the wonderful words he used to describe her. She was precious to him, and Harry only wished she could see herself through his eyes.
Hermione was even more precious to him these days than ever before. Especially now that she was suffering from such constant bouts of illness. All Harry wanted was to make life better for the woman that he loved, and one surefire way of achieving that was to pay a visit to Mr and Mrs Flume, the owners of Honeydukes Sweetshop. If he could spend just a few coins on something that would ease Hermione's torment, Harry couldn't think of any reason why he shouldn't do just that. What was it Luna had once told him? That they should try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud? He wanted to be a rainbow in all of the clouds Hermione was facing. Merlin, he would throw fistfuls of galleons at the couple if it would give Hermione even a hint of a silver lining.
Harry raised his dark head when he felt the ground begin to climb beneath his boot-clad feet. The High Street stretched out before him, just as deserted as the country lane behind him had been. It would seem that everyone else must have thought better of going out early, preferring to stay out of the weather. A thick pillowing of snow had fallen over the little village throughout the night, and it sat untouched. His were the only footprints to mar the beautiful perfection as he walked to the front door of the sweetshop.
The green door swung open easily on well oiled hinges when he turned the golden knob and pushed it open. The tiny bell overhead tinkled throughout the uncanny silence filling the shop, alerting both of the proprietors of his arrival. Mr Flume looked up from a batch of fudge cooling on the counter before him. The little old man flashed a smile of greeting when he recognized Harry's flushed face peeking out from beneath the dark cloak hood.
"Ah, Harry my boy! We didn't expect you to visit us this morning, what with the weather being as it is." The old man gave a familiar chuckle as he hobbled from behind the counter to take Harry's hand in his own. He gave it a quick, squeezing shake and said, "Martha and I were sure you would wait until the temperature was a little more agreeable."
"Good morning, Mr Flume," Harry said with a grin. "I probably wouldn't have come had I not known that poor Hermione was about to run out of her favorite sweets. You know, they're the only thing that really make her feel somewhat better."
"Really? I had no idea." Mr Flume chuckled again and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. As he led him over to the counter where Mrs Flume was working, he said, "You are a good lad, Harry. To look after your wife in such a way shows just how much you love her."
Harry nodded his dark head in agreement as he pushed his hood back, causing unruly locks of black hair to fall across his face. Pink splotches stained his cheeks when he said, "I do love her, sir. She's my everything."
"Where is the missus this morning?" Mr Flume asked with real concern. He always asked Harry where Hermione was and how she was doing.
"I left her at home, in bed. She was exhausted after being up all night. I thought I'd let her get a little rest while I ran to the shops."
Mrs Flume looked up from what she was doing to give Harry an approving look. "That lovely girl is lucky to have such a nice young man looking after her. Not all husbands are as considerate are you are, Harry dear." She threw a look in her husband's direction and smiled wistfully. "I know exactly how lucky she must feel with you there. Ambrosius has always taken such good care of me when I'm ill."
Harry watched as the red-haired woman stretched a hand out to pat her husband's face gently. He didn't know why, but witnessing the small display of love between the couple made him feel both uncomfortable and content. He was witnessing a tender moment that felt as if it should have been private, something secret between the two. Yet, at the same time, he felt as if he were looking through a window of what he hoped would be the future for him and Hermione. He looked away from the pair and waited for the moment to pass, not wanting to interrupt something so sweet.
After a few minutes, Mr Flume said, "Well, Harry, what will the order be today? Another sack of liquorice wands for your little lady? Perhaps some peppermint humbugs? Or will it just be the usual?"
Harry's green eyes flicked back to the couple. On the other side of the counter, Mrs Flume was working again. She was wrapping chocolates in clear plastic wrappers and tying them shut with little pieces of scarlet ribbon. Looking closer, Harry saw that they were chocolate roses perched on top of thin wooden sticks. Somehow, they seemed to gleam a brilliant red, as if they'd been dipped in a cherry varnish. Harry thought they looked too beautiful to simply be eaten.
When Harry looked toward Mr Flume, the older man was leaning against the counter waiting patiently for his order. "Erm...just the usual today, sir. I need to get another big box of your butterscotch bats. Those are Hermione's favorites, and they really seem to help her when she's feeling unwell."
"That shouldn't be a problem. We made a fresh batch of bats earlier this morning. I'll go get them now," the old man said with a wink. He turned and hobbled back toward the counter where he'd been standing when Harry arrived.
Harry turned his gaze back to the chocolates Mrs Flume was still wrapping while he waited, and asked, "What sort of chocolates are those, Mrs Flume?"
She looked up to see him watching her intently. "Oh, these right here? They are some of my favourites. I have to keep myself away from them or else we wouldn't have any left to sell." She held one of the wrapped chocolates out to him for inspection. He took it and looked at it very closely while she spoke. "These are chocolate covered roses. I've chosen some of the sweetest roses that I could find and dipped them into a perfectly tempered dark chocolate. When you eat them, they taste just like chocolate covered strawberries."
"You mean, there are actual roses inside of these? I didn't know a person could eat roses." Harry realized that his voice sounded skeptical as he spoke, and he hoped that the sweet old woman behind the counter wouldn't take offense.
He needn't have worried. She gave him a kind smile as she said, "Oh yes, dear. People can eat all of the different types of roses. They're not toxic. Each one has a different flavor. Some are sweet, like these, and taste like strawberries. Others give off a bitter flavor. Does your young lady like chocolate?"
"Yes, she does. Hermione would love these. She's always appreciated the chocolates that you make, Mrs Flume." Harry handed the chocolate back to her, careful not to drop it.
She seemed pleased at hearing that. "I've always taken great pride in my handmade chocolates. I'm happy to hear that Hermione enjoys them."
"Here you go, lad," Mr Flume said. He'd had made his way back with a large, white box held in both hands. He offered it to Harry with a grin. "I certainly hope that this batch of bats is just as good as the last. We received an owl the last time you took some home to Hermione. She said they were the best batch yet!"
Harry chuckled. Hermione was the sort of person to do something like that. Though she was sick almost day and night, she would have taken the time to let the sweet old couple know just how much she loved their treats. "I'm glad to hear it. I had no idea she'd sent you an owl."
"I've mentioned it more than a few time over the months, Harry. That Hermione is a lovely girl. She's been very kind to a couple of old timers like us. I can't remember the last time we received so many owls of thanks." Mr Flume patted him on the shoulder. "Make sure you give her our love."
"Of course, sir," Harry murmured. He watched as the old man nodded his head and then moved off to continue working on the batch of fudge waiting for him.
Harry reached inside of his cloak to pull out a pouch of coins resting deep within an inner pocket. It was weighty in his hand, having been filled up earlier that morning, and he had to rest it on the counter to loosen the strings. The box of butterscotch bats would normally cost a few galleons, but Harry liked to leave a couple of extra gold coins for the little old couple. He pulled out five galleons and held them out for Mrs Flume to take. She was waiting for him, having already taken the box from him to place in a bag, so that she could put the money in the ancient till.
He was just taking up the bag to leave when she said. "Wait, dear. Take these back for Hermione. I believe you once said lilac was her favourite colour, yes?"
Harry stared with wide eyes as Mrs Flume took another box from the counter, one with a big lilac ribbon, and pushed it into his hands. The box had a clear cover so that he could see inside. It was filled with at least a dozen chocolate roses. "Oh, Mrs Flume! I can't just take these. How much would you normally charge?"
She shook her head at him. "You're a good man, Harry Potter. You have been looking after a sick wife for months now, never once complaining. On top of that, you've been giving a little extra pocket money to a couple of old farts that haven't done anything to deserve it. Now, you take these to your wife. I won't take no for an answer."
Harry felt a wave of emotion wash over him at her words. "Mrs Flume, you do deserve the extra pocket money. You've helped Hermione throughout her entire pregnancy with your sweets. She's been sick nonstop for months now, and the only time she gets any relief is when she's enjoying some of your handmade candy. She jokes that the baby will be the sweetest in the world because of how much she eats. I'm grateful for all that you two do for her without even knowing how much it helps."
Mrs Flume hurried around the counter to pull Harry into a tight hug. "You are such a sweet boy, Harry."
He wasn't sure what to say, so Harry said nothing. He just took Martha into his arms and returned the squeezing hug. She sniffled when she pulled away and wiped a quick hand against her cheek as if brushing away tears. "Thank you, Martha."
"Oh, one last thing before you go," she said with a watery smile. Her hands were clutching a smaller bag that she had taken from the countertop. "I want you to have these. I know that it isn't much, but I know these are some of your favourites. I've been slowly gathering things for you since you started coming in to get those silly bats for Hermione. There's a bit of chocolate in there, a few types of fudge, some Bertie beans, and a few chocolate frogs. I remember you being fond of them when you were a boy."
Harry looked at the bag in his hands and thought of how he could express his gratitude. As if realizing his struggle, Mrs Flume said, "There's no need to say anything, dear. I know how much you appreciate what we do for you." She pulled him into another quick hug before pushing him to the door. "You get home to Hermione. I'm sure she'll be missing you."
He moved toward the door as he cast a glance at both of them over his shoulder. Mrs Flume had gone to take Mr Flume's hand in her own, and they both watched him head off into the storm. It seemed almost sad that he should be leaving them there. They had become a fixture in his life over the months. But, all of them knew that in a few days time he would be back for more goodies. He had to come back because Harry needed to make rainbows in all of Hermione's clouds.