Disclaimer: I don't own anything
~
Forever Never Ends
Chapter 4
Erica's eyes fluttered open slowly and she turned around on her bed to look at the time on her alarm clock. Four fifty seven.
Damn, why the hell did I wake up so early?
Knowing that she would not be able to fall asleep again, she furiously rose from her bed, and stood in front of her dresser mirror to get a good look at herself. Her light brown hair was tangled and dark bags sat under her sleepy blue eyes.
I look like a fucking mess.
Turning away from the image in the mirror, she stepped quietly into the hall of her small, modest house and turned on the coffeemaker. She sat down in a beaten-up wooden chair at the circular kitchen table and tried to remember what exactly had awakened her from her slumber. Perhaps, she thought, it was a dream. What that dream was, or what the content of that dream was, was hidden in the dark corners of her mind, concealing it from herself.
The aroma of the coffee soon filled up her kitchen and she pulled herself out of the chair and over to the kitchen counter where she poured herself a cup of it. She then buried herself in all the papers on the kitchen table. Bills, orders, and other junk that she had been too tired to work out the night before.
Erica Gilner, indeed, was a strange woman. All her neighbors agreed. She owned a small bookstore on the west side of London and the business was pretty good. Well, enough for her to support herself, anyways. She was a quiet, non-social woman who hated publicity of any sort. The neighbors remembered the day that she had moved into the small red brick house in which she currently resided in. On that day, nine years ago, she had come driving up the street in a small silver car, and from then on, the neighborhood had not been able to rid itself of the smell of coffee. That was about all she drank, or ate for that matter. They knew nothing of her past life, only that she had been living in an apartment for about two years before she moved here. Erica was a pretty woman, with silky brown hair and bright blue eyes, but she never attended any socials, never went on any dates, and never returned any phone calls unless it had to do with her work.
It was seven o'clock when Erica finally finished with all her work. She returned to her room where she brushed her hair and curled it in slightly at the ends. She then applied some concealer to cover her baggy eyes and dabbed on some lipstick. She put on a nice blue business suit that enhanced her eyes. She was done by seven twenty and knew she had plenty of time to get to her bookstore before it opened, at eight. Or maybe nine, she thought, depending on which day it happened to be. She walked into the kitchen again and flipped through it calendar. Today was a Thursday, she so needed to be at the store at eight. She was about to put the calendar away when something caught her eye. It was a Thursday, yes. But it wasn't just any Thursday. It was Thursday, April 7th.
Fuck.
Her eyes closed.
April 7th…if she was alive…
Erica opened her eyes and resolved not to think about it anymore. She had been trying to push it out of her mind for years. She was actually getting quite good at forgetting things by now. Peering at her watch, she realized that she had approximately half an hour to arrive at her bookstore. Erica headed towards the front door, but stopped suddenly when a single letter slid down the mail slot in the door.
Erica was curious. She bent down slowly to pick up the envelope and turned it over in her hands. For a moment, she almost didn't recognize the name that it was addressed to in emerald green ink. She moved her fingers over the ink lightly, as she closed her eyes, as if searching for lost memories. Quickly, she flipped to the backside of the envelope, which was branded with a purple wax seal.
Green ink…purple wax seal…
She carried the envelope in her shaking hands and she slowly sat down again at her kitchen counter. She opened the envelope, so slow, so painfully slow that minutes passed before she finally pulled the letter out. Erica closed her eyes and took a deep breath before unfolding the letter and scanning over the parchment.
Oh God.
She closed her eyes again and clutched the letter tightly in her hand. That split second, she made a decision, and she knew what she must do. She hurried to her bedroom, got out a suitcase, threw in some clothes, gathered some belongings and then went to search for a mark on the carpet - a mark that she had made nine years ago when she had first moved into the house. Although it was somewhat faded through time, she found it. Using a knife from the kitchen she began to hack away at the carpet. There was a secret compartment under the beige carpet of her home, a secret compartment that held her most treasured possession. She opened the compartment slowly, and inside was a small rectangular box. She lifted the box out and opened the lid.
To any other person in the world, the content of the box would have seemed like a child's toy. It looked rather like a regular wooden stick except for the fact that it was nicely polished and cut. Like a wand. Erica touched it for the first time in eleven years and felt something sizzle through her.
Nine inches…holly…phoenix feather…
Erica picked it up carefully and gave it a small diagnostic wave. It was still as good as it used to be. She knew it was time. Forgetting about her bookstore and everything else in the world, she concentrated deeply on one thought, and then she disappeared with a small pop.
~
When Erica opened her eyes, she was standing at the entrance to a small village or town of some sort. A very familiar place. A large sign hung over her head and she squinted to read it. Hogsmeade, that was the name of the place. She turned around and started walking down a narrow, dirt path road away from the village. A very familiar dirt path road. She knew exactly where she was going.
Soon, she approached a bend in the road, and she rewarded with a glimpse of a magnificent castle perched on a mountain. Its towers and turrets stood tall and proudly, as it always had. She knew she was almost to her destination.
A little while later, she found herself standing before a set of great stone steps. She gulped. This was it. Gathering up all her courage, she dragged herself and her suitcase up the steps until she standing right in front of a great oak door. She was nervous. She even considered leaving right then. But, she regained her composure, straightened herself and put up a fist to knock on the door.
Her hand never touched the door, for it swung open right before her hand touched it. She was in absolute shock. Standing in front of her was an old man. Long white hair and beard. Blue eyes. Half moon spectacles.
Albus Dumbledore.
They were silent. She herself was at a loss for words. She did not know what to say, nor could say anything at that point, for that matter. The old man smiled at her joyously and then finally broke the silence with his deep warming voice.
"Welcome back, Hermione Granger."
TBC
A/N: sorry I never mentioned that from chapter 3 on, everything is 11 years after what happens in chapter 1 and 2.
