A/N: Written for the Crayola Color Challenge
Prompt 1: Wild Watermelon
It was strange. After the rain, the scent of wild watermelon hung in the air. Aria would have recognized it anywhere.
She had been terrified of storms as a child. Every time lightning began to crack, thunder rumbling in the distance, Aria's mother, Astrid, would pull out coloring books, crayons of every color Aria could imagine, and candles that Astrid said smelled of wild watermelons.
"Mother nature is an artist," Astrid would whisper as they gathered their art supplies and lit the candles on the old wooden floor, "So are we. We create and destroy and recreate. Just like her. Remember, Aria, she's not the enemy."
"Who is the enemy?" Aria would ask as Astrid offered her what she knew was her favorite color, a bright shade of pink. Astrid had once said it reminded her of sunrise. Aria had never seen a sunrise, but she thought it must be beautiful.
Aria's mother would look back at the door that was always locked and Aria would wonder for the hundredth time what was on the other side of it. It never opened. Once a week, a panel would be slid open at the bottom of the door, and supplies would be delivered to them. When that happened, Astrid would take the bags and hand off a list of things they wanted to have delivered the next week. Once the panel was closed, it didn't open again until the next delivery. Their home consisted of a small kitchen, a bathroom, one bedroom, and one living room. It had always been fully furnished and stocked, as long as Astrid didn't forget to add anything to the list. No noises came from the other side of the door. The only sounds that came from outside of their home were the storms. At the time, that was the only life Aria had ever known. She was born in that bedroom. She'd eaten every meal for 11 years in that living room. The windowless walls had been covered with pictures she and Astrid had made over the years.
"The enemy," Astrid would answer after a long silence, "are those who fear us. You must never allow your fear to control you, Aria, and never forget who the true enemy is."
Aria reached into her pocket and curled her fingers around a thin piece of paper. She pushed her dark hair back out of her violet eyes and stared up at the castle as she let her mind revisit the past. That piece of paper was the last piece of art Astrid had created before the explosion had taken her away from Aria forever. It was all she had left of her mother.
Aria had never forgotten. She would never forget. The scent of wild watermelon hanging on the air lit up those memories like candles flaring to life. It was Astrid's spirit guiding her forward. The castle in front of her was a stark contract compared to the colorful home they had created together.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Black," McGonagall smiled at her, obviously mistaking her hesitance for awe.
Aria forced a smile. "When do I get to meet the Headmaster?"