Ordinary Day
Laura Thompson woke up on a Monday morning to the sun shining through her bedroom window, a very rare occurrence on any ordinary day in London. Laura folded back the bedcovers and hopped off enormous bed. It was one of her favourite things about her room.
She pushed her cold feet into her favourite pink and fluffy slippers, wrapped a dressing gown around her petite frame, and walked to the window. She pushed the curtains aside and looked to the outside world. It was a beautiful day, both in its rareness and in actuality. It was a day that Laura would make something of. A day to remember even if just one thing out of the norm happened.
She opened the window and let the chilly air wash over her. Even though she usually hated the cold, today it felt refreshing and new. Like she was finally breathing for the first time again. Today would be that day that she would break the monotony that had become her life.
"I'm just being silly," she muttered to herself as she shut the window closed and locked it. She fumbled around in her pockets until she found the half-empty (yes, she was that kind of person – the ones that believed things were half-empty rather than half-full) package of cigarettes. It was a Muggle habit that she was trying to kick but to no avail as of yet.
Laura lit the cigarette with a flick of her wand and took a puff, watching the smoke gather around her. For some reason it comforted her and she couldn't remember why she ever wanted to quit in the first place.
"I'm a witch for bloody's sake!" she declared defensively as if talking to somebody. "It's not like I'm going to die from smoking like Muggles would."
She went about her room with the cigarette in one hand and her wand in the other, straightening the room and taking out her clothes for the day.
Laura regarded herself in the mirror and voiced her usual complaints. "If only I was a little taller. Or rather a lot taller. I wish I didn't have such pimples for breasts…My hair is so limp and lifeless…Why do I look so pale?"
"It's because of the smoking," her Muggle mother said in her mind.
"Oh shut it you crazy—!"
"I'm not the having conversations with myself, am I love?"
Laura moaned and groaned, huffed and puffed, but was eventually dressed and ready to leave for her boring desk job at the Ministry, renewed resolutions in mind about her ongoing issue with smoking. Maybe today was the day she would finally quit. It was a daily battle she fought with herself, all part of her daily routine.
Or maybe today was finally the day that she would work up her nerve to speak to Neville Longbottom. Laura thought this was highly unlikely, however, as she slipped her shoes on and locked her front door. Neville had been living down the corridor from her now for close to a year and she hadn't so much as said a word to him.
She remembered him vividly from Hogwarts, though she doubted he could say the same about her. He was a two years younger than her and was in Gryffindor while she was in Hufflepuff.
Her first real memory of him was at the end of her third year. Laura remembered thinking how much he was like her, only braver. Harry Potter and some other first year Gryffindors had faced some kind of skirmish with the Philosopher's Stone, in which the details had never been very clear. But the one who stood out the most to her was Neville and his act of bravery.
Laura continued to watch him through the years and could empathise with how little friends he had. She also watched his heroic though little known deeds throughout the war and wished she could be more like him. Silly, she knew; but nonetheless, Neville Longbottom had become a hero of sorts and someone she looked up to.
If someone else told her that they admired a person they had never met, spoken to, or even seen at a relatively close distance, she would think them raving. What did that make her?
Every morning at around this time, Laura caught a glance at the back of Neville's head as he boarded the lift. She was never able to make it out the door on time to get on the same one as him. This morning, however, there was no trace of him and hope flared within for Laura. Was today the day, perhaps?
She idled around her door for an extra five minutes, feeling completely idiotic. Laura also broke her newly-made (yet stale in the grand view of things) vow by lighting a cigarette while blatantly ignoring the "No Smoking" signs posted around the corridor. Oh well – there was always tomorrow.
Laura finally sighed and boarded the lift. She had either missed him for the day or he wasn't going to work. Whatever the case, she herself was going to be late if she didn't get a move on now.
The noise of London greeted her as she stepped outside. Cars were honking, mums were yelling louder than their already loud and screaming kids. Vendors were selling their goods and the dirty smog rising from the sewer vents were threatening to choke them all. And yet she was sure that fresh air would be the thing to do them in.
Laura thought about the Muggle pub around the corner that she usually stopped in every night, sometimes with friends and sometimes alone. She was almost sure she left her hat in there last night and Keith the bar tender would probably be holding it for her. It was the only thing that made her detour from her usual Apparation point. Otherwise, she might have missed Neville Longbottom flinging himself from the roof from the roof of the building and landing with a splat right in front of her.
Laura jumped back and screamed. A crowd immediately formed around Neville's lifeless form and she was pushed back. She felt as if she was going to be sick
She could never understand the allure in somebody killing themselves and she certainly never expected that someone she looked up to would ever do it. Why do so much good in the world just to take yourself away from it?
Hopes crushed, dreams dashed, horrible events…perhaps it was just an ordinary day after all.
