CHAPTER ONE: The Departures
The ocean was rough that morning, the chill wind whipping it into a frenzy. The sand, usually hot and coarse, had turned to soft cold spun silk overnight. The same wind that made the waves roar was spinning the sand into whirlwinds of light, the tiny prisms suspended in mid-air for a mere second. The sand would then settle into whorls and small mountains, forming new patterns each and every time. Down by the edge of the ocean, where the water lapped in its ivory foam, small prints of sandpipers marked the sand. Each print disappeared just as quickly as it was created, washed away by the gentle yet steady flow of the ocean.
Awyn watched from the balcony of her room, sighing at the thought of leaving the coast once more. Her trunk was packed, her room was neatened, and downstairs her parents and younger sister were waiting to say their goodbyes. Her tabby cat was already in his carry case, ready for the train ride to Hogwarts. She was the only part of the equation missing.
It was not even as though she did not want to go back to school, or that she would miss home terribly. It was just the shift in the wind that frightened her, the way the hair on the back of her neck had been standing on end for the past week and a half. She couldn't be sure of it, but it seemed as though the entire land was on end, waiting for something to change.
But those were merely the delusional thoughts of a seventeen-year-old witch who was no good at divination. The change, if there was to be one in her life, had surely already occurred. What did you call the Death Eaters? What did you call Lord Voldemort? What did you call her older sister's suicide, if not change? The world had already turned, and she, Awyn Wencuvie, was, as always, a step behind.
"Awyn? Wyn?! " Her mother's calls from down the stairs alerted her to the hour. Half past ten when the train would leave at eleven.
"Shit!" came her cry as she stumbled over to her bed, tripping over her bags in the process. "I'm coming mum!" She put on her jeans, quickly slipping on her trainers and glancing in the mirror as she hurriedly ran a comb through her long, messy hair. There were large circles under her eyes, and her face was chapped from the wind. "Shit, shit, shit.!" She muttered under her breath. There was no time for appearance as she wound on her long grey scarf and pulled on the lightweight black jacket. She picked up her wand from the dresser, and with one hurried glance back around the room, levitated her bags and ran out the door.
She met her parents and sister at the bottom of the stairs, giving them each a sloppy kiss on the cheek and a hurried hug. "I've got to run! I'll see you all at the hols!" With a last wink and pat on the head to little Niamh, she grabbed hold of the waiting portkey (it conveniently being her trunk) and felt the tug in her gut. She was off to King's Cross, back to Hogwarts for one last year of gossip, devilry, and schoolwork.
-
-
-
-
"I don't understand why I had to come!" Petunia grumbled from next to Lily, sniffing miserably. "It's not like I care that she's leaving."
Lily's mother turned in her seat with a frown. "I don't want to hear it Petunia. It's your sister's last year at Hogwarts. She's Head Girl!"
"Mum, it's really no big deal," said Lily with a blush.
"Of course it is!" Her father joined in, his eyes on the road. "You have been given a great responsibility."
Her mother nodded. "We're very proud of you." She gave Lily a squeeze on the knee.
"Proud my bum, they're just glad to get you out of the house," Petunia grumbled.
"As if. They'd rather send you away."
"How would you know? You never hear their sighs of relief the moment you disappear through that stupid wall. They're glad to be rid of your glorious magic."
"Girls!" Mrs. Evans rebuked them, turning to radio on. "Do try to behave. You're seventeen years old! You would think, by now…"
She was distracted by the radio as the news came on. "This morning five bodies were found in a London sewer. Believed to be the work of the serial killer that has evaded capture for the past two years, police say that the bodies bear no mark. 'They're completely untouched. It's a mystery to the best doctors in the country,' the newly appointed constable, Roy Burnham, told reporters earlier today. 'We have our best detectives on the case, working full time…"
The newscaster went on to more mundane events and Lily's mother went back to fiddling with the station with only a "Those poor souls!" under her breath.
Lily was wracked by fear. Surely it was the work of Death Eaters. What if one had been Juniper? Or Remus? Or one of her many other friends living in London? It had been easy to forget that the wizard world was living in fear during the summer hols. Her parents knew nothing of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Lily wanted to keep it that way. There was no need for them to fear every step they made as she did. Their fear would do nothing in the face of such evil. Better to let them lead their lives naïve and happy.
She sighed, glancing over at Petunia. Her sister sat with a grimace on her face and her arms tightly crossed. Before Lily's letter, Petunia and she had been far from close. But they had still acted as sisters, allowing acts of kindness amid the constant squabbling. Now they acted as frigid enemies. Lily had hoped that over the years her older sister would reconcile their differences. But after six years, she was done with praying for her forgiveness over something she could not control. She was a witch. She would remain a witch till the day she died. It was the way it was.
The car came to a stop, jolting Lily out of her reverie. They had arrived at the outskirts of London. She took in the tall buildings, the old streets mixed in with the new pavement. Her home in Nottingham may have been in the city, but there was no place on earth like London. She smiled at the mess of traffic and the people roaming the streets. Soon she would be at King's Cross and from there she would head home. Hogwarts was beckoning to her. It was her last year. Her last year. The concept was difficult to grasp. But it was true and she was going to enjoy it with all she had. She would, she would, she would. She smiled defiantly out the window, thoughts of Voldemort flying from her head.
-
-
-
-
"Johnny, shush, Lewis, stand closer to your sister." Mrs. Tolvey was trying desperately to get her extremely disorganized family to settle into an organized picture on the front stoop of their London apartment. Each of her children (Juniper, the eldest, followed by the twins Johnny and Lewis) held a struggling cat in their arms and the twins were currently involved in an exchange of rude faces.
Juniper rolled her eyes. Every year her mother attempted the same thing. Every year it turned out several crazy photos depicting limbs flying everywhere and usually at least one hissing cat. Still, she loved it. It described her family perfectly: their odd dynamic, with the power horse single mother, wild yet obedient eldest daughter who cooked dinner every night of the summer but looked like a hell raiser, the one twin who was overly studious, the other who was overly playful, and the three skittish, drainpipe thin cats. She wouldn't have it any other way. The only families she had ever known were like this: a blend of people thrown together and stirred several times with a dash of salt and several dashes of sugar.
Juniper almost laughed aloud, thinking how different things were, She pushed back her short black hair, stroking the magenta streak out of habit, and smiled. First, second, and third year, they hadn't been friends. Then fourth year, they suddenly became inseparable. The three girls: Awyn, Lily, and Juniper. Juniper had never thought she and Lily Evans would be friends and she certainly never would have guessed little Awyn Wencuvie, loner and general outcast of Gryffindor and the school at large, would have brought them all together. But stranger things had been seen at Hogwarts,
This day she was on her way to Hogwarts for the last time, the last year. And she was excited as hell. Sure, there were NEWTS to worry about, but there were also pranks, Quidditch, a certain boy, and her friends, her second family, to look forward to.
She frowned, thinking again about her friends, and Awyn in particular. She had heard from Awyn only once that summer, at the very beginning and the correspondence had been a brief one. In fact, since that fateful day in February, Awyn had been more subdued than usual, her customary laugh seldom heard except perhaps when one of the Marauders would pull an exceptionally funny prank.
"June, darling, stop pouting. I know you despise this but really," her mother paused anxiously, "It's your last year."
"Aww, mum," Juniper replied, pushing thoughts of Awyn from her mind, "please don't cry, you don't want your face to be red in the picture."
Mrs. Tolvey pulled herself together. "No, of course not," she said briskly. She swept a hand across her face and set the timer on the camera, jumping into the picture frame with a large smile on her face.
It was all Juniper could do to keep from crying. It was her last year.
PLEASE REVIEW!
