Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter novels, and all characters and situations contained within. I'm making no money off of this work of fanfiction, and I intend no copyright infringement.
Three Years After
by Phoenixflame
Aparment 205, Windy Garret. Home sweet home.
Virginia scowled, and dug into the pocket of her patched robes for the key to her door. Her fingers sifted through old candy wrappers, a broken quill, an oddly smooth stone that tingled when she touched it, and finally, the worn metal of a key. She drew it out of her pocket, and unlocked the rusty old door. It swung inwards, creaking loudly.
Once inside, she threw the key on an endtable covered with dust, peeled off her overobe, and headed for the kitchen.
She hadn't bothered to follow any of what she'd learned from her mother. This meant that the apartment, which was far from being Hogwarts level living, was even more run down than it could have been. The walls themselves resisted her meager Transfiguration skills, the ghoul in the apartment above was always most active after midnight, and the faucets in the sink tended to run greem slime in the morning. Beyond the magical aspects, though, there were melted down candles everywhere.
Virginia was fond of scented candles. They added a touch of color to the dreary garret, or so she thought. But she never threw out the melted down ones, and things tended to fall into the molted wax, so year old candles littered the mantle of the cracked and blackened fireplace that had once housed a floo system, and candles lined the patched sills of the windows.
Today, they simply annoyed her.
She swept the candles off of the counter, ignoring them as they rolled underneath a batter table, and snatched the asprin bottle of of the counter. She swallowed down one dry, and grimaced at the taste. *Dammit. I was supposed to be at work.* she thought, then shrugged. "Who gives a shit?" she said to the empty apartment.
Turning, she walked across the apartment, kicking odds and ends out of the way as she went. Stopping, she bent down, and tried to open the window.
The window resisted her efforts. Swearing softly, Virginia redoubled her efforts. Slowly, torturously, the window creaked open. The redhead straightened just in time to be hit by a lovely grey owl.
She swore loudly at the owl, which settled down on the back of an ancient rocking chair, preening itself and not showing the least bit of interest in her inventive cursing. Eventually, her supply of obscenities ran out, and she grabbed the owl, ignoring the startled squawk and the peck the owl aimed at her hands.
Sticking the owl under one arm, she headed into the kitchen, examining the letter she held. The sealing wax was imprinted with the stamp of one HJP. Virginia tossed the letter onto the counter. The bird began to squawk loudly again, and she deposited it with a complete lack of ceremony on the rickety table. The bird hopped backwards, and squawked at her, ruffling its feathers.
"No, I don't have a letter for you." The bird stared at her. "What? I'm not going to lunch with that git, if that's what it's about." The owl began to preen again. Virginia swatted at it. "Get! The window's open, and I'm NOT reading the letter. I've got better things to do." The owl dodged the swat, and hopped onto her arm. The owl flew at her, pecking at her. Cursing, she stumbled backwards, tripped over one of the candles on the floor, and barely escaped skulling herself on the rusty handle of one of the cabinets under the sink.
The owl landed on her chest, letter clenched in its beak, and dropped the parchment on her. Rolling her eyes, Virginia picked up the parchment and broke the seal. Apparently mollified, the owl fluttered up to sit on the broken ceiling fan, and began to preen itself.
"Bloody bird." she growled, and read the letter. "'Dear Ginny'... it's Virginia, you git... 'If you can possibly fit it into your busy schedule, would you please meet me at Moonstruck Coffee at 3 PM today? Harry James Potter."
The bird squawked. Virginia looked up at it. "I'm not going." she informed the owl. It stared down at her balefully. The redhead glanced down at the parchment, and saw words fading into existence. Cursing softly, she read "P.S: The owl won't leave you alone until you do."
"That GIT!" She threw the stub of a candle at the owl. It dodged easily, and glided down for an easy landing on the back of one of the worn wooden chairs that sat around the table. Scowling at the bird, Virginia stomped out of the kitchen, intent on finding her dress robes.
End Chapter Three
Three Years After
by Phoenixflame
Aparment 205, Windy Garret. Home sweet home.
Virginia scowled, and dug into the pocket of her patched robes for the key to her door. Her fingers sifted through old candy wrappers, a broken quill, an oddly smooth stone that tingled when she touched it, and finally, the worn metal of a key. She drew it out of her pocket, and unlocked the rusty old door. It swung inwards, creaking loudly.
Once inside, she threw the key on an endtable covered with dust, peeled off her overobe, and headed for the kitchen.
She hadn't bothered to follow any of what she'd learned from her mother. This meant that the apartment, which was far from being Hogwarts level living, was even more run down than it could have been. The walls themselves resisted her meager Transfiguration skills, the ghoul in the apartment above was always most active after midnight, and the faucets in the sink tended to run greem slime in the morning. Beyond the magical aspects, though, there were melted down candles everywhere.
Virginia was fond of scented candles. They added a touch of color to the dreary garret, or so she thought. But she never threw out the melted down ones, and things tended to fall into the molted wax, so year old candles littered the mantle of the cracked and blackened fireplace that had once housed a floo system, and candles lined the patched sills of the windows.
Today, they simply annoyed her.
She swept the candles off of the counter, ignoring them as they rolled underneath a batter table, and snatched the asprin bottle of of the counter. She swallowed down one dry, and grimaced at the taste. *Dammit. I was supposed to be at work.* she thought, then shrugged. "Who gives a shit?" she said to the empty apartment.
Turning, she walked across the apartment, kicking odds and ends out of the way as she went. Stopping, she bent down, and tried to open the window.
The window resisted her efforts. Swearing softly, Virginia redoubled her efforts. Slowly, torturously, the window creaked open. The redhead straightened just in time to be hit by a lovely grey owl.
She swore loudly at the owl, which settled down on the back of an ancient rocking chair, preening itself and not showing the least bit of interest in her inventive cursing. Eventually, her supply of obscenities ran out, and she grabbed the owl, ignoring the startled squawk and the peck the owl aimed at her hands.
Sticking the owl under one arm, she headed into the kitchen, examining the letter she held. The sealing wax was imprinted with the stamp of one HJP. Virginia tossed the letter onto the counter. The bird began to squawk loudly again, and she deposited it with a complete lack of ceremony on the rickety table. The bird hopped backwards, and squawked at her, ruffling its feathers.
"No, I don't have a letter for you." The bird stared at her. "What? I'm not going to lunch with that git, if that's what it's about." The owl began to preen again. Virginia swatted at it. "Get! The window's open, and I'm NOT reading the letter. I've got better things to do." The owl dodged the swat, and hopped onto her arm. The owl flew at her, pecking at her. Cursing, she stumbled backwards, tripped over one of the candles on the floor, and barely escaped skulling herself on the rusty handle of one of the cabinets under the sink.
The owl landed on her chest, letter clenched in its beak, and dropped the parchment on her. Rolling her eyes, Virginia picked up the parchment and broke the seal. Apparently mollified, the owl fluttered up to sit on the broken ceiling fan, and began to preen itself.
"Bloody bird." she growled, and read the letter. "'Dear Ginny'... it's Virginia, you git... 'If you can possibly fit it into your busy schedule, would you please meet me at Moonstruck Coffee at 3 PM today? Harry James Potter."
The bird squawked. Virginia looked up at it. "I'm not going." she informed the owl. It stared down at her balefully. The redhead glanced down at the parchment, and saw words fading into existence. Cursing softly, she read "P.S: The owl won't leave you alone until you do."
"That GIT!" She threw the stub of a candle at the owl. It dodged easily, and glided down for an easy landing on the back of one of the worn wooden chairs that sat around the table. Scowling at the bird, Virginia stomped out of the kitchen, intent on finding her dress robes.
End Chapter Three