Chapter 4

No Satisfaction

I couldn't wait for the door to open. Mum was looking for the keys from the house in her purse. Each time she gave a sigh of confusion, or a remark such as "Where can they be?" I experienced a spin of anger, irritation, and annoyance. I called her "stupid" and "what an idiot," without her knowing of course. I couldn't help but ask "how hard is it to know where you're own keys are?" I asked myself "why do I have such a mother?"

She lost her keys within her bag millions of times. We would stand outside for hours. Once we had to stay at her friend's house because she lost them. The next morning we found them within her rain coat. I was infuriated; however, there was nothing that I could have done. She was my mother after all. All the things that passed through my mind during those periods were just for me to know. I loved my mother very much; however, mothers often aggravate their kids at my age. I would have reacted differently if it was on any other day but this, but with my luck she had to lose the keys today.

"Do you think you left them in the car?"

"No dear, I didn't take them out of my purse. Where could they have gone? Well, keys don't have legs, do they?"

It was no time for jokes. I gave her an angry look, and she went back looking in her bag.

"Are you sure they are not in the car?"

"Yes, yes."

"Give me the car keys. I'll go look for them." She handed me a small silver key with an eagle pressed in at the top of it. I took it and went towards the car. We had a small vehicle. It was of red color for four passengers. It was a Mazda of some kind, but I don't remember of which. It wasn't in a very good condition, as we had no money to afford a really nice one. I didn't really mind to have a second hand car because I've spent most of my time in school; I felt sorry for my mother, however.

"What the hell is going on today? I'm officially putting this day as 'the day where everything goes wrong.' First Madam Malkin gets angry with me for no reason at all, then that stupid Draco shows up. What kind of a name is Draco? Anyways, then I have to run back to get a wand, which takes forever! Oh my god, and that disgusting kiss, again from that stupid dragon! Now, she has to lose her keys! What a dandy day! Thank you God for looking after me. You are a very nice friend!" I said to myself while heading towards the car.

I flipped the door open and climbed inside. It was still cool from the air conditioner compared to the stiffness of the outside world. I looked through the papers that were covering the passenger's seat. I advanced to the driver's place and looked under the chair. All I found were some empty bottles of butterbear.

"She needs to clean this car!" I exclaimed during the battle between the bottles and my hands. "She also needs to stop drinking this stuff in the muggle world!" I added.

"Honey, I found it!" I heard mum's voice scream.

"Goody." I responded through grinned teeth.

I shut the doors and ran towards the entrance. Mum was already inside taking care of the answering machine. The moment my feet stepped through the doorway I ran to my room and into the bathroom.

"Are you well?" She asked, but I didn't respond. I turned on the water and placed my hand under the running stream. It felt so soft and inviting. I slipped off the cloths and stepped under the shower. Gathering an extremely large amount of soap, I placed it on the sponged. I rubbed it against my hand until the soap began to bubble and spread the foam about my body.

"Finally," I thought, "finally I can wash his sent off me. Finally I can wash away his touch."

The warm water glided down my body. It was the true joy of being alive. Sure you might think that it isn't, but at that moment I was the happiest person on the planet. I don't know for how long I stayed under the droplets of water, but by the time I got out the smell of dinner was slipping through the opening under the door to my room. I took a deep breath of the sweet sent and immediately felt hungry.

While removing the towel from my hair, I looked through the potion book that lay upon the table. It contained many potions about removing sleepiness and giving your mind a fresh start. Some of the potions were about bringing back your youth others about learning faster and more accurately. They contained many ingredients that I never heard about, formulas, amounts, and numbers. I knew that the potion class would drive me insane.

"Why do we have to take this miserable class? Besides who would want to drink those nasty potions."

"I did drink one. That's how I met your father."

I turned around and saw my mother leaning on the wall by the entrance. She was looking warmly at me. Her eyes sparkled, as the light from my lamp fell upon her face.

"What do you mean you drank a potion and met dad?"

"Well, I was about fifteen, and many girls began having little romances with boys. I was left out from their conversations because I had nothing to tell them, as I had no one to talk about. I felt left out, so I made a potion. My potion professor was a really good man. I loved his classes; they were exiting and educational."

"Mum, if this is your idea to persuade me on loving potions the way you did, it will not work. We are two different people, and what you like I might not like at all."

"I know that, and this is not one of my bright ideas to make you enjoy potions. Well, the potion takes a month of preparing. There are thirty ingredients that have to be included, however, each one has to be placed on it's on with the difference of 24 hours between each addition. There is a little catch though, the main ingredient is the maker's own blood. The maker has to be a virgin, or the potion will show you nothing, as you are not pure. The maker's blood has to be added during the full moon within the month in which you are making your potion."

"Well, that's not hard, pick a month, and wait for the full moon and in the mean time add in one ingredient each day."

"Yes you might think it's easy, but there is an order at which you add them in. If the order is not followed the potion is worthless."

"But the moon is not full on the same day each month. Do you mean the maker has to count the days for the full moon, and add the things into it...Mum you were insane."

"Ya, I had to wait for many months for the right one to come. Eventually it cam right before the exams. It was in May that the moon was at the right place, so I began my potion. Each night I would go, get what I need, and drop it into the potion."

"How would you know who the boy is?"

"Well, after the potion is complete you drink it."

"Is it disgusting?"

"Not at all, the scent of jasmine takes over the nasty odor and the taste of vanilla takes away the bitterness of the drink. When you drink it, you have to wait couple of hours. When the potion takes affect, everyone will begin glowing blue except the one who is destined for you, and he'll be red."

"What if the maker likes girls?" I asked. My mom's expression changed from dreamy, to confused, to worried. She gave me the most serious look there could be. I quickly realized the reason of her mood change and added, "don't worry, I like boys. However, if I did like girls what would you do to me? I mean what if I was born that way, huh?"

"I would have wished you good life, and cried each night into my pillow." I laughed at her remark. I went into my closet to get a T-shirt and some cotton shorts. While putting them on, I saw mum flipping the pages of the potion book with the same dreamy expression that she had moments earlier.

"I want to know who I'm destined for, but I'll never make the potion right," I gave a sigh of disappointment and went out of the room, "Mama are you coming?"

I went down the stairs that were covered with a fluffy new carpet. The threads went between my toes and felt warm. The walls were occupied with different photos of myself, mom, dad, and just the whole family. Some of them were usual muggle pictures; others were moving and waiving at me. We had a big photo of dad at the bottom of the steps. He always greeted me, as I entered the house. He wished mum and me "Happy Birthday!" and "Merry Christmas!" However, he couldn't replace the real father that I had. The one who hugged me during the morning, and kissed my forehead when I was crying during the night. He couldn't replace the person who helped me with my homework and often drove me to tears when I couldn't comprehend the word he was saying. After he died, I would sit before the photo and talk to him for hours, but slowly I got more and more consumed by everyday life.

Our kitchen was a small room that was painted with middle toned yellow paint. When I entered the room, it made me happy. The bright lights and the warmness that came from the stove sometimes muffled my thoughts, and all I felt and thought about was the coziness of this little room.

We had a wooden table by the window that was encircled by four chairs covered with sitting pillows. I came closer to the stove and raised one of the covers. I felt the warm steam coming off the food as I bend to smell it. As the aroma reached my nose the hunger over took my body.

"Mama come on! I'm so hungry, I can die!"

"Coming! Coming!" I heard her say as her feet went down the stairs. She entered the kitchen and took out two plates and two cups. I took the cups from her and filled them with hot tea. Placing them on the table I saw mum taking out the bread from the upper shelf of our cabinet. I quickly rushed to the washer and took out two spoons. After running from the fridge, to the washer, to the stove, to the cabinet, and to the table, we settled down and began eating.

I was so hungry from the days of work. We didn't have lunch, and it was nine o'clock already. I quickly gobbled down the delicious soup that my mother learned how to make from a Thai book. It was my favorite. Chicken soup with coconut milk, green curry, mushrooms, and other spices. It was amazing.

We talked some more about the school, and how she didn't wish for me to go. We drank our tea with cookies and chocolate. But something strange startled us, a noise that came from the basement.

"Stay here," I heard my mother say, as I was rising from the chair. She slowly

walked to the basement wand in hand. I didn't listen to her and rushed to the door. I remembered placing my wand before the entrance, as I stormed into the house. Luckily for me, it was still there, wrapped into the brown paper bag. I took it out from its case and rushed to the basement door. The light was on and I saw my mother rising up the stairs. I gave a sigh of relief.

"Was it the neighbor's cat again?" I asked.

"I suppose so. What are you doing here? I thought I told you to remain in the kitchen."

"Www...well...you see I was scared just incase...you know...I needed my wand, so I went to get it...and here you are coming out of the basement."

"I don't want you to disobey me. If you wanted your wand, you should have gotten it and gone back to the kitchen. The basement door is to a different direction from where you were supposed to be." She was angry. Somehow she was on edge ever since father passed away. She was always cautious about her surroundings. She was skeptical with strangers and even her friends. She hardly left my side if we were out of the house. If I would wonder off somewhere, she'll be furious with me. I couldn't comprehend her peculiar behavior. Every time I ask her about it, she'll switch the subject. If I consistently bugged her about it, she would get cross and send me to my room.

I studied her carefully, as we went back to the kitchen. She looked at the floor and muttered something to herself. Her eyes were distant, within her thoughts.

"Wash the dishes and go to bed. I'll be in the living room. I have to write a letter to someone, so I'll borrow Seelvin for that task." I gave her a node of agreement and watched her disappear in to the living room.

" 'Stay here, don't go anywhere.' God I'm not a baby anymore. I can do whatever I set my mind to do. If I want to clean the room, I'll clean the room. If I want to cook, I'll cook. If I want to help my own mother, I'll help her. But no, no sorry. Not this time! Now days I have to sit in a corner and watch her leaving me. Now days I have to wait and worry if anything happened to her. I have no voice in this house. I just listen and follow orders." My hands made rough movements with a sponge as I washed the plates. The hot water was burning my hands, but I gave little notice. I couldn't stop the mumbling that escaped my lips. I suppose from the side it seemed like I was hissing or cursing someone. Otherwise it sounded like I was talking like a snake. However, that gift was long lost. Only two people know how to speak Parseltong, Voldemort and that "Boy Who Lived". I don't remember that boy's name. All I know he vanquished him at the age of one. It was still a mystery to me how he managed to do such a thing, but maybe it was not he at all. Maybe he's not that special. Everyone say it was his mother that covered him and died for him. To me it was the mother who took over him, and not that boy at all. It was, however, just a matter of opinion.

I finally finished washing the dishes and took the liberty of drying them, as I didn't wish to be sent to bed. I could hear the scratching of the quill upon the parchment, and Seelvin was hooting within the lounge. I finally cleaned the kitchen, so it sparkled, but my mother was still writing. I finally had to enter the living room. Mum placed her letter into an envelope writing Albus Dumbleore on it. She gave it to our silvery owl and watched it fly away.

"Mummy, is everything all right?" I asked her, as I placed myself on the floor within her feet. She waved her wand, and my brush fell into her hand. She began gently brushing my golden locks. She used to do this when I was little, but I don't remember when she last brushed my hair. Something was definitely wrong. I turned around to look at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked me.

"That is the same thing I want to know. What is wrong with you? What are you hiding from me? Why have we moved to Russia? I now know for a fact, you didn't want to leave. Was it father that made you?"

"No it wasn't."

"Who was it then? You didn't do it out of your own free will." I was standing before her, practically screaming.

"Do not use that tone with me, young lady. Every thing that I do or done doesn't involve you in it. I did it for you, and I don't have to justify myself to you or anyone on this planet."

"Mum, you're going paranoid. I'm not a girl anymore. I know what I'm doing, and I can handle whatever is coming my way."

"Good for you, but you still going to do what I say you will!"

"Just once! Just once in my life, I wish I had freedom and done things the way I planned them. I don't want to be controlled. I don't want you butting into my life. You're like a control freak. You take everything into you're own hands and hold it so tight that there is scarcely any way to breath! Open up your hands! Why do you think I'm always alone? Why do you ask me about my friends?"

"Because I want to know about them, but you always say there's nothing interesting."

"Because I have no friends! How can I have them, if you're breathing down my neck every single minute? I can't go anywhere no matter what the circumstances are, be I at home doing nothing, if the house is clean, if the food is prepared, no matter what, I have to stay alone. I have to be by myself. I have to stay and pretend that I'm happy!"

Seelvin flew back through the open window and landed on mum's shoulder. She was carrying a parchment that simply said;

"Don't Worry."

Mum gave a sigh of relief and looked back at me.

"Everything is great! No worries!"

I didn't know what to say to her. This conversation that we just had was just a simple blabbering. She didn't even listen to anything that I've said. All she was thinking about is that darn letter. What was in it? I called Seelvin to my hand and went to my room. I heard my mother calling my name, but I didn't care. I just went, not looking back.

"Hey, there Seelvin. Are you hungry? I'm going to give you something really special tonight. What do you think about that? Would you like it?"

I opened the door to my room, and couldn't hold back the scream of terror that overtook my whole being.