One week later, I enter the Great Hall for breakfast to find that the Christmas trees and decorations were set up overnight. This instantly changes my mood and I'm feeling considerably more depressed as I sit down and start to eat. All around me there's a light buzz of excitement, brought on by the near-coming holidays. Penelope and Stacey don't say anything; they already know what's wrong with me, and there isn't really anything they can say to make me feel better.
Christmas at my house used to be a wondrous affair, from what I can remember of it. We had a 7-foot tall Christmas tree in both of the living rooms, the guest room, and both kitchens. We had relatives and friends over each year, and the small army of house elves that take up residence in the mansion I call a home would, each year, prepare a meal to rival the Christmas feast at Hogwarts. Emily, my older sister, and I always got the presents we wanted. We used to be happy, our whole family, even Mum and Dad. Then things began to change. When I was six or seven, Mum and Dad started having problems. Their fights escalated, until they were shouting and throwing things at each other almost every night. I remember that Emily would come into my room and play with me or read to me to calm me down and mask the angry voices reverberating throughout the house. Sometimes even she couldn't keep it together, and she ended up holding me as we both cried silently as Mum and Dad continued to fight, not even giving a moment's thought as to how this could be affecting their children. The fights normally ended when either Mum or Dad left the house, slamming the double doors behind them.
For the first two years, both my parents tried their best to put their differences aside, at least on Christmas. They still decorated, and brought presents, but the feeling was gone. They barely spoke to each other, and their smiles, no matter how much effort they put into them, were always obviously fake. After that, they just stopped trying. Mum walked around the house like a ghost, barely there, and not speaking to anyone. Dad started coming home from work later and later and spent all his time at home behind the closed door of his study. Neither of them spoke to the other, and they barely spoke to Emily and me. They ate their meals separately, and slept in separate bedrooms. Even now, I don't understand why they don't get a divorce. It would make things much easier on them, and me and Emily.
As soon as Emily turned 17, about two years ago, she moved out, got a flat on the far side of London. She told me she was sorry to be leaving me alone with them, but that she couldn't take it anymore. I was angry at first, but I don't blame her; I would have done exactly the same thing. In fact, I intend to move out as well, as soon as I turn 17 this August. After Emily left, I stopped caring and feeling sorry for myself. I ignored Mum and Dad and made a great effort to be at home as little as possible. I spend most of each summer at either Stacey's or Penelope's house. However, when it comes to the Christmas holidays, I'm always forced to go home. Every year, I receive an only one owl from home; it always arrives approximately a week before the holidays start. It's form Mum, instructing me to come home on the Hogwarts Express for the holidays. I don't understand why she's so insistent on me coming home. It's not like we still celebrate Christmas. We even stopped putting up the tree years ago. No one picks me up from the station and when I manage to get home, I receive a "hello" from Mum. That is all I hear from either of my parents for the torturous two weeks that I spend in my house for Christmas. I used to cry, when I was smaller, every time Christmas rolled around. But for the past few years I've spent the two weeks reading books or watching shows on this muggle invention called a "tv-box" or something like that. Dad brought it home when I and Emily were still toddlers. I still remember the excitement of that evening, sitting in front of the box, mesmerized by the moving pictures and sounds that were all created sans magic.
So this is the reason for my current misery, and it goes without saying that Christmas is my least favorite time of the year.
On top of the mounting dismay I feel about going home for the holidays, there's also the dread for the coming Memorial Ball. Stacey speaks incessantly of it; she's already earned herself two detentions for talking in class. I count down the days in my head. One week until the ball and two weeks till the holidays arrive.
Tuesday. Three days until the Ball. I'm picking at my cornflakes this morning when a familiar brown Tawny owl drops down in front of me. It holds out its leg while I unfasten the letter, stares at me for a few seconds longer with its cold yellow eyes, and then flies away before I can offer it a treat.
It comes every year, this letter. I've learned to expect it. Still, I can't stop the cold feeling in my chest as I open the envelope. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Stacey and Penelope staring at me, both looking worried.
It's the same as always:
Irene,
Hope you are well. You're expected home for the Christmas holidays.
- Lydia Boscawen
Hi Mum, yes I'm doing great, thanks for asking. I think sarcastically. Suddenly my mood has gone from sad to furious. I crumple the stupid letter, stuff it in my book bag and leave the Hall without looking at anyone.
Stacey and Penelope join me in Charms; they don't speak to me, but I can see them casting worried glances at each other when they think I'm not looking.
I sigh. "I know what you guys are doing". Stacey and Penelope immediately snap their heads back to the front of the class, where Professor Flitwick was demonstrating the wand motion for the Epoximise spell. I force a smile and continue, whispering "I know I've been in a foul mood lately. I'm sorry if I've been a prick. "
Penelope shakes her head slightly and whispers "No."
Stacey continues "We get that this time of year isn't really the best for you,"
"And there was also that thing with Jacob" Penelope adds.
"Yeah. You've had a rough couple of months. But you put up with us all the time, and I know that I can definitely be a pain in the arse sometimes. So chill out, we're here for you," finished Stacey.
Flitwick finally hears us and pipes up "Miss Edwards, do you have something you'd like to share with the class? Or would you just like another detention?"
"No Professor" Stacey squeaks, turning slightly pink.
"Good. Then I suggest you pay attention," and with that he returned to his lecture.
When I was sure Flitwick wasn't watching us anymore, I spoke again, "Thanks you guys. I don't know what I would do without you," I whisper. For the first time in days I'm smiling and actually feeling slightly cheery. I silently thank God, or Merlin, or whoever controlled the universe, for my amazing friends.
AN:
Reviews are greatly appreciated! It helps me keep going, so tell me what you think! Even if you think the story sucks, tell me that, in a review! :D
