CHAPTER TWO
Afternoon at Whitwell Pond
July 23, 1991
**Three years later**
Anita stirred about, blinking open her eyes and grimacing slightly. The first morning rays had ebbed their way through her French lace curtains and were now prompting her to wake.
She rolled over, away from the windows. As she pulled the covers up to her chin and nestled against her pillows, she briefly stopped.
Yes, there it was. Someone was singing. Albeit trying to sing, but it was singing, nonetheless. It was nasally and squeaky, like a mouse.
Anita smiled as she slowly sat up. Sure enough, there was the culprit, shoveling soot from the fireplace into the pail next to her.
"-dilly, dilly, lavender's green, when I am-"
"Good morning, Mopsey," Anita greeted rather sleepily.
The house elf turned and grinned. "And a good morning to you, Miss Martin." She dumped another pile of ashes into the pale. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did." Anita stretched out her arms. "Had the strangest dream, though."
"Was it a bad one?"
"No, it was-" Anita glanced over at the familiar teddy bear, worn from years of use, slumped over slightly in his spot on her nightstand. "It was about Christmas."
"Oh, that sounds lovely, Miss Martin." Mopsey went over to the bench in front of Anita's bed. She smoothed over the clothes, one by one, as she laid them out. "I got your clothes all ready for you, Miss Martin. It's supposed to be a lovely day, sunny, and about sixty degrees according to the Daily Prophet-"
"Thank you, Mopsey-"
"So, I made sure to put out your nice denim dungarees, the ones with the cuffed legs of course, and I thought your Magpie jumper would do rather nicely against any chills." Mopsey looked up with a grin, holding in her hands Anita's sneakers and rainbow socks. "And don't worry, Miss Martin, I didn't forget these."
"Thank you, Mopsey."
"Of course, Miss Martin. You go ahead and get dressed. Breakfast will be ready soon!"
"Is Varby cooking again?" Anita grimaced slightly at the thought of burned toast and undercooked eggs.
"Oh, no, Miss Martin. Tufty has cooking duties today." With a snap of her fingers, a warm fire materialized in the fireplace. "And it's the missus's favorite!" Mopsey began humming again to herself, picking up her pail, pan, and shovel and made her way through the bedroom door, disappearing rather quickly down the hall.
If Tufty was cooking, Anita had a pretty good idea of what was in store for her at the dining table. Eagerness took over and she hurriedly dressed, pulled her long, wavy, light golden blonde hair into a ponytail, and slipped on her shoes and made her way to the rather large dining room that had been set in the east wing of the estate. Sure enough, as she sat down at her usual place, a plate of thick french toast doused in powdered sugar and drizzled with honey and strawberry compote, materialized on the white linen tablecloth before her along with a small glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a teacup of hot water with lemon.
Anita unfolded her napkin from the place setting and sat it on her lap before tucking in. The french toast was fluffy and everything seemed to envelope her like a warm hug. Even the sunlight that streamed in through the large gable windows that lined the eastern wall seemed to say "Good morning".
As she sipped at her juice, Kobkey, the eldest of the three house elves, appeared next to her with a parcel in his hand and a note.
"Good morning, Miss Martin," he greeted in a raspy voice. "Is everything to your liking?"
"Very much so. Tufty outdid himself again."
"He'll be glad to hear such high praise." Kobkey held out the parcel and the note to her. "A package just arrived for you Miss Martin and the note is from the Mr. and Mrs. Martin."
"Oh. Thank you, Kobkey." Anita took them, trying very much to hide her disappointment. She had been hoping for something else, but, once again, it was all for naught.
Kobkey, of course, noticed this disappointment. A resolute smile appeared under his thin, pointy nose. "I'm sure it will come soon, Miss Martin. There's still plenty of time, after all."
Anita nodded. "Thank you, Kobkey."
"Of course, Miss Martin." With a curt little bow of his head, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
Anita looked at the note first, which she immediately recognized as her mother's elegant script. "Have gone into town", it said. "Will be gone most of the day. Your father had some urgent business at work."
Anita rolled her eyes. When didn't he? She placed the note on the table and began to unwrap he parcel. It was small, no bigger than her own hand, and wrapped in brown paper. Inside revealed a box of peppermint toads with another note attached.
She smiled when she recognized the hastily written scrawl.
"Morning, Anita! Care to join us at Whitwell Pond around noon? Ron has stomachache. Won't be with us. Hope you like the peppermint toads!" Fred had run out of room near the end of the scrap of paper as Anita noticed his name was written in a cramped space at the very bottom.
She glanced up to the great mounted clock opposite her. Nine-thirty. A smile broke across her face. "Mopsey," she exclaimed rather excitedly. "Tell Tufty I will need a picnic packed, will you?"
She was going out today.
**
Armed with a tin of biscuits, sandwiches, and a thermos of cold lemonade, Anita departed down the dirt lane that led from the estate towards Whitwell Pond. The day was cool as Mopsey had said, but the sun was shining brightly and warmed her cheeks. Needless to say, it was a perfect day for fresh air and being out of doors.
Whitwell Pond was a hidden place, tucked away in a small grove of trees. The pond itself was clean and the water was oddly clear enough to see to the bottom. No leaves fell into it and the only aquatic plant life was the lichen that grew on the rocks near the shoreline and the spots of java moss on the floor of the pond. It had a small beach that ran across the western side and wildflowers grew in soft grass just beyond it. It was indeed the perfect place, especially for swimming. The younger Weasleys and Anita had found after some experimentation, that the water on cool days was lukewarm and on warmer days cool and refreshing.
Suffice to say, it was a well-kept secret between the six of them and fond memories had been created there since Anita was seven years old.
The walk itself was not far from her home, about a mile and a half or so, and it often didn't take her too long to travel it.
By the time she had made her way through the grove and to the pond, Fred and George were already flinging themselves from the makeshift swinging rope they had crafted two years before, while Percy watched on while perched on one of the larger rocks. Ginny was relaxing on the little patch of beach, already hard at work on one of the many fairy houses she and Anita had crafted through the years. She looked up at the sound of Anita's approaching footsteps.
"Anita, you're here! Boys, Anita's here!"
George turned and raised his arm to wave as Fred came down next to him, unleashing a ferocious splash.
"Oi!" George cried, rubbing water from his face as his brother burst through the surface. "You almost landed on me!"
"Ah, but you see? I almost landed on you."
A splashing match suddenly erupted between the twins and Ginny shook her head. "Boys." She turned back to Anita. "How are you?"
"I'm alright, I guess." Anita sat down the picnic basket and thermos. "Yourself?"
"The same." Ginny sat back down and started back on her creation. "Want to help me finish this? I think I've almost got it."
"Sure." Anita sat down next to her and the two of them went to work while exchanging pleasantries. As they talked, Anita avoided the subject of having not received her letter yet. The topic made her uneasy and restless.
By the time they had started on another tiny home, Fred and George had coaxed Percy into the pond with them. As Ginny chatted, Anita couldn't help but look over at the three of them. Especially George. He had gotten taller while he'd been away at school and, though he'd written her off and on and they'd seen each other during the holidays, Anita had missed him. Yes, she'd missed Fred as well and even Percy, but she had found herself looking forward to seeing George the most. And the idea of possibly not going to Hogwarts? Such a thing petrified her more when she realized she would probably be getting left behind. Surely she had not been forgotten, had she?
"Anita?"
Ginny's voice stirred her from her thoughts. "Sorry. What?"
Her friend smiled. "You looked a thousand miles away." She was holding out a small twig to her. "I was just asking if you wanted to add another floor to this one."
"Oh. Sure. Yeah, of course."
As the two of them began constructing the walls for the second floor with the bits of bark and moss Ginny had collected beforehand, Anita silently chided herself for becoming so lost in her head. And thinking of George! How silly could she be?
By the time she and Ginny had finished, the three boys had made their way out of the pond, slightly out of breath from the exertions.
"Lovely creation there," Fred complimented as he sat himself down next to his sister. "Don't you think, Percy?"
Percy nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"Don't listen to him. He's just jealous he can't make something so ambitious."
The elder Weasley rolled his eyes as laid himself out on the beach, his face towards the sky. "Just remember who beat you earlier on the rope swing, Fred."
"I blame the wind. It was obviously going against me."
Percy smirked. "Whatever you say."
George grabbed one of the folded towels behind Ginny and began drying off his hair. "I say we let bygones be bygones and eat whatever Anita here brought us. I'm famished."
"'Course you are." Percy quipped, still smirking.
"Bite me, Percy." George grinned as he chucked his wet towel at his brother, hitting him on the chest.
Before long, the tin of cookies was passed around, the sandwiches evenly distributed, and the thermos of lemonade poured out into small cups. Jokes and friendly inquiries were made, Fred and George talked about Quidditch, and fortunately for Anita, not a mention was made of her getting her letter.
The afternoon passed on as the five of them relaxed and swam, enjoying the final hours before it was time to depart and go their separate ways towards home. When the time finally did come and Ginny and Anita had distributed the fairy houses they had made within the grove and the boys had toweled off, the group made their way up to the dirt path.
"Thanks for inviting me out, guys," Anita said. "It was great to see you."
"We'll see you at the platform, won't we?" Percy asked, running his towel over his hair once again.
"Of course! Definitely!" She hoped her voice hadn't sounded forced. She was a terrible liar.
"Alright, then. Well, come along Gin. Fred, George, let's get going. You know how Mum gets."
"You mean," Fred began, putting his hands on his hips and putting on his sternest face. "'Where have you been!? Don't you know what time it is!? It's nearly dark out! I was worried positively sick!'"
Ginny couldn't help but begin to laugh when George suddenly took hold of her and began patting her head. "'And what if something were to have happened to your sister?'" He remarked in a high falsetto.
Fred popped up beside Percy. "'I swear! I think Percy is the only one with a sense of responsibility between you, George, and Ron.'"
"Argh, knock it off you two." Percy muttered.
"You see. So responsible. Yes. We are so in awe of Percy the Prefect," chimed Fred.
Percy's cheeks flushed, but he said nothing as he led Ginny away, who was now in a fit of giggles. Fred and George high fived one another.
"See you around, you two." Anita shook her head, laughing to herself, and began the journey back towards her house.
Behind her, the twins had started walking themselves, but George stopped rather adruptly and said something to his brother. Fred turned, quickly glancing at Anita's receding form, and made a short reply, a little grin on his face.
"I'll be sure to let Mum know," he called after George, who was now making his way towards Anita. "Don't need her to have a heart attack before classes start."
"Thanks!"
George caught up to Anita, then, who looked over at him in surprise. "George? What are you doing? I thought you were going home."
"I am." George wrapped his towel over his shoulders as he began to match her pace. "But I just wanted to walk you home. Make sure you got back safe and all that."
Anita stared, slightly confused. He had never offered to walk her home before. After all, the distance was so short and she had walked it so many times she could practically do it blindfolded. "Oh. Alright." She couldn't think of anything else to say.
Her friend noted the silence that was building between them. He cleared his throat. "So um…listen. I noticed you were kinda quiet today."
"Was I?"
George chuckled. "Definitely. Even for you." He turned to her. "Penny for the lady's thoughts?"
Anita said nothing at first and kicked at a small pebble, sending it into the grass. "I…I haven't gotten my letter yet." There it was. Now it was out in the open. It felt even worse saying it out loud.
"I'm sure it's just running late is all." He noticed her face and the worried expression on it. He playfully nudged her. "Come on, Anita. Chin up. You'll get it soon and when you get to Hogwarts, I'm sure you'll be one of the best witches there."
A heat rose in Anita's cheeks at the comment. "You think?"
"Think? I know. I'm brilliant that way."
Anita smiled to herself as they continued walking. A few moments passed in silence with nothing but the sounds of their footfalls between them before George spoke up again.
"On a more serious note," he said. "Have you had any more of those funny dreams?"
Anita shook her head. "Not really. I thought I had something like a vision two weeks ago. Everything got all hazy and my head started to hurt."
"Did you see anything?"
"Just bits and pieces. My dad spilled coffee on his shirt and my mum had gotten me a cat."
"Did either of them happen?"
"Just the coffee. No cat." They had been in a crowded place, though, and the scenery around her had been unfamiliar. Her mother had been wearing her coral lipstick and her dad had on one of his best ties that he only wore for special occasions.
"Well, as long as it's nothing scary-"
"I'm not afraid." Anita looked over at George. "Besides, I have Humphrey."
George laughed and shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe you still have that bear."
"And why wouldn't I? He was a gift."
"What idiot thought that was a good idea?"
It was Anita's turn to nudge him. "Not an idiot, I'm afraid. Just a good friend."
For a moment, the two of them smiled at one another before Anita realized they were coming upon the estate.
"Well," she said. "This is me." The two of them came to a halt. "Thank you for walking me home."
"Not a problem. Happy to do it."
Quick, she thought to herself. Say something before it becomes awkward! "Well…I'll…see you soon." Idiot. Was that really the best you could come up with? With a quick wave and a blush forming in her cheeks, she began making her way up the walk.
"Tell Humphrey I said hello!" George called out to her. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about him!"
"I will, George! Goodnight!"
Unbeknownst to her, George did not move until she had disappeared through the estate's great doorway, nor did she know that he had replied back to her, the only thing there to catch his whisper of a "Goodnight" being the wind as it gently blew across his face.