"Mother"
My voice echoed out through the small parlor. Mother's small parlor was bigger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was more exquisite too.
The walls were white. Not the usual plaster white, my mother's walls were made of flowers. They were stronger than stone. The petals of blossomed lilies always stayed fresh and clean. The parlor had a divan. Not a couch or a sofa, a divan. It was made of tulips. The tulips were yellow and pink and the colors flowed into each other and the arm rests were made of vines. Green vines that curled into intricate shapes. The vines held up the divan. The table was made of mirror and yet of flowers. Mirror flowers made of the same petal material as any other flower. There was a carpet. It was made of ivy. The poisonous kind. If gave the room color. The white walls, the yellow, pink and green divan and the mirror table. The carpet gave the room color.
"Mother"
The hall. It was made of gold. It looked nothing like the small parlor. It was a rectangle of gold. Of sunny yellow gold. It was the simplest room in the house. Strangely this was the area that made most people feel small. The whole world relied on gold and a hallway of it was the most impressive thing they saw. They obviously never saw the drawing room.
"Mother"
She wasn't in the drawing room. In that room everything was made of diamond. There was a simple table of diamond, a simple chair of diamond and candle holder on the table. In it was a candle. The candle was diamond. In it was oil. All you had to do was throw in a flame and it would light up. The walls were also diamond. As soon as the candle was lit the whole room lit up. Mother had a specific outfit for that room.
A silk dress littered with diamonds. Every inch covered in the precious stone. Stiletto heels made of diamond. Silver eye shadow with diamond particles and nude lipstick. She would wear dangling earrings with a single diamond on the bottom of a three inch strand so thin it seemed the diamonds were floating. When the candle was lit mother shimmered. It made the richest feel worthless. Mother loved it. Mother wasn't in the drawing room.
I found her in the bath.
The walls were crystal, the floor was a soft white fur. In the center of the room sat mother sipping champagne from a crystal glass in a crystal tub. It was mother's favorite washroom. She thought that champagne should be drunk from crystal in a bath tub filled to the brim with bubbles. The only thing that wasn't expensive or magical in the house was a table. It was white, it was from IKEA and it was next to the tub. On it was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. The champagne never ended, the ice never melted. Mother thought it lovely.
"Darling"
Mother's voice was softer than a velvet cushion.
"Mother"
"You never visit me"
She pouted.
"So you decided to mess with me?"
"I have a different favorite daughter now, Piper. She has a boyfriend."
"So you haven't been trying to make me fall in love."
"You're boring."
"Oh"
My shock was evident.
"I'm boring."
"You seem disappointed."
"I was hoping it was you."
"I'm intrigued."
"Have a nice bath."
"It ended."
She was wearing a silken grey blue robe.
"Come on," she said as she led me to another room.
I recognized this one. It was the listening room for intriguing conversations. There was a mahogany table and two comfortable chairs of the same wood. They stood across from each other. Behind mother on a dark blue wall hung an undiscovered painting of some famous artist.
"Well?" She put her hands on her jawbone and her elbows on the table. Her manicured nails stretched over her cheek. Mother was the ultimate diva.
"What?"
"Don't be dull, tell me everything."
"Their-"
"More than one!"
"I'll stop talking"
"Sorry," she giggled like a school girl.
"Their names are George and Fred Weasley."
Mother held up a hand to say stop.
She opened a table drawer and pulled out a silvery laptop. It was like a Mac except it was mother's. It had an H instead of an apple and it was made by Hephaestus. The Google Chrome was more specific and had a broader search. Mother opened a tab and started typing. Then she opened another tab and started typing.
"Twins are so fun in bed!" That was the first thing she said or rather exclaimed.
"I'm not in love."
"I'm not your mother."
"I'm not in love."
"You have a very unsavory habit of disagreeing with your mother."
She continued reading from the laptop.
"That's interesting."
"What is?"
"Mother!"
"Screaming at your mother. Unsavory habit number two."
"Mother"
"Continue"
"What do you mean?"
"How do you feel when you see them?"
"I feel annoyed"
"That's it?"
"Yes"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes"
"You're boring again"
A whine this time.
"How can you tell you're in love if you don't even admit it?"
"I'm falling in love, mother. I'm not in love."
"You make this sound like a disaster. It's natural to fall in love. Everyone does it."
"It's not a trend."
"It is the only trend. It's the ultimate trend. It's the trend that never goes away. You can't avoid it forever."
"I don't. I've fallen in love once already. I don't like it."
"That's because you don't express your feelings. You sit in a dark little corner and cry."
"I like it."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I like sitting in a corner. I have to go now. We have a prank planned."
I turned around and exited the room.
"You do like them."
"I heard that mother!"
Mother didn't help me. It was corner time. Again. I hated corner time. Last time it happened in 1534. His name was Andrew. He was a baker's son. I sat in a corner and cried. And mother said love was beautiful. Mother obviously lied.