Lizzie Heart and the Years after Hogwarts.
Chapter Three – Thoughts and Happiness.
Lizzie read the letter three times while tears traced down her cheek, leaving a warm trial through the blusher that was left on from the previous night. She picked up the necklace and held it close to her heart; it all brought back memories of her mother's voice, her mother's scent, and her mother's pure azure eyes. Lizzie just couldn't forget the last time she spoke to her mum.
"You're not going to be there?" Lizzie asked her mum in disbelief.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, I just can't. You know how tied us Aurors are at the Ministry." She replied, packing a bag of overnight essentials for her impromptu secret mission.
"But, it's my first international match!" Lizzie protested. Her mother sighed, walked up to Lizzie and put her hands on Lizzie's shoulders and looked straight at her.
"Look, I'm sorry, I truly am. It's just all this talk about an uprising of the Death Eaters, especially now that Sirius Black had once more escaped the Dementors."
"I know," said Lizzie, downhearted. Her mother kissed the top of her head and went to the door, opened it but turned and looked back at Lizzie.
"You have a real talent with this Quidditch thing, go all the way. And good luck for tonight."
That was the last time Lizzie ever spoke and saw her mother. The news of her death came a few days later.
Something moved in her bedroom. Demetris must've woken up. Lizzie abruptly wiped the salty tears away from her cheeks and peered round the doorframe. The tall, handsome man was standing with his back to Lizzie with only his boxers on, looking for another item of clothing.
"Morning," Lizzie greeted, standing in the doorframe, trying to look casual. Whats-his-face jumped and spun around.
"Morning," he replied nicely.
Lizzie walked through her bedroom and into the corridor. Lizzie didn't want to speak more to him then she had too. It was stupid what she did last night, absolutely stupid. I can't even remember his name. Lizzie thought and walked into her kitchen and searched one of her cupboards. Where is it? Where? She frantically threw old packets of crisps and chocolate bars behind her. "Ah ha!" she said loudly, lifting a dusty bottle of Aunty Ann's Hangover Tonic. Lizzie poured it in a glass and down it in one.
"Have a headache?" The guy's voice came from the doorway. Lizzie simply nodded. There was a gap in the conversation. "Look, I better be off." Lizzie nodded again. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime?" he asked vacantly.
"Er…yeah, maybe" Lizzie replied, having no intention to see him again. He turned and walked away, a few seconds later, the front door closed behind him.
It was eleven o'clock and Lizzie, although dressed, was laying on her sofa still trying to recover form her hangover. She was casually flicking through The Daily Prophet. There were articles on the thickness of cauldron bottoms and the news that Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes have confirmed that all their product are safe and have passed Merlin's Production Safety Test for Testing the Safeness of Commercial Products with top marks, despite the uproar of dissatisfied parents complaining from being the receiving end of the practical jokes. She flicked another page and Lizzie saw her own face staring back at, on the gossip page.
LIZZIE HEART'S NIGHT OUT. By Marty Mcfly.
As it turns out, Lizzie Heart, famous Quidditch player definitely knows how to have a good night out. Yesterday she was spotted outside Scars, the hot new club for young wizards and witches, with her friends identified as Ron Weasley, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Granger, a healer at St. Mungos and The-Boy-Who-Defeated-You-Know-who, Harry Potter. She told the reporters outside the famous club that it was her twentieth birthday and that she was celebrating. Well she certainly did that! She was seen leaving with one Hercules Manor, lead singer of the upcoming chart hits, The English Guys. "They were being rather intimate with one another," Says Gregory Goyle, bouncer at Scars. Is this a match made in heaven or another of Lizzie Heart's meaningless one night stands?
Lizzie felt anger bubble up inside her. The newspapers always gave her a hard time for having a bit of fun. They had a field day when she and Harry broke up. The letter from her Mum kept playing on her mind and now this? The letter was reading from the beyond, bringing back memories Lizzie had pushed aside, the newspaper who taking it too far. Suddenly, a face popped up in the fireplace.
"Hello Lizzie," Came the voice of a burly young man, otherwise known as Oliver Wood. Lizzie looked up from the newspaper.
"Hey Oliver, what's up?" she said dazedly.
"I'll tell you what's up," he began with a tome of temper in his voice, "I've just read today's edition of the Prophet-," Lizzie cut across him.
"Yeah, me too," She said distantly.
"Oh, come off it Lizzie. We can't afford any more bad publicity then there already is. It's bad enough with the rumours still circling about you and me, let alone the amount of other guys you may or may not have had one-night stands with." Oliver ranted.
"I know! Oliver, I know!" Lizzie slammed her edition of the Prophet on the coffee table, making her cold coffee spill onto the lush cream carpet. She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. Oliver looked quite taken aback.
"Sorry Lizzie, is there something wrong?" he asked sincerely.
"I'm fine, I'll be at practise tomorrow without this hangover." Lizzie said, stressing the last phrase as she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow." Oliver said and disappeared elegantly from the fire. Lizzie slumped back down on her sofa as an owl flew in the open window and landed on the coffee table. The owl stuck her leg out obediently and let Lizzie take the small scroll attached.
Dear Lizzie,
Meet me in the Leaky Cauldron for a spot of lunch at twelve thirty. This thing about Viktor is playing on my mind.
Hermione.
Lizzie checked the time; it was eleven thirty, which left one hour to get rid of her hangover and to get cleaned up. A bath was the way to do this, Lizzie had learnt from experience. She went into her bathroom and turned both taps on for the bat to fill with warm water. Lizzie poured some lavender bath salts, which evanesced into light purple bubbles. She took off her loose jeans and sweater and slipped into the cosy bath. The lavender aroma embraced her as she lay silently with her thought pondering in her mind.
She was now twenty with what felt to be the world on her shoulders. What Lizzie would give to have the press of her back just for one day, an organ? A limb? It wasn't as if she did anything bad, lots of people had one-night stands and she was being scrutinised for it. And just because the press expand it and make it seem so much more then it actually is, people think of her as 'an easy catch' or a scarlet woman.
Lizzie knows what her friends say about her when she is not around, that she isn't happy and that she is filling her life with men she'll never see again because she's lonely inside. It hurt Lizzie; they weren't nice things to hear. But what hurt more then anything Harry, Ron, Hermione, Alex nor Remus could say was the fact that they were right. Lizzie isn't happy. At all.
Those happy days at Hogwarts with him seemed so long ago, when in fact it is only two years. Just remembering the nights where Harry and Lizzie would spend all night talking in the common room about the most random things and laughing till they pulled a stomach muscle.
But even after Hogwarts, Lizzie was still happy. Well – the whole Wizarding world was happy after the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Lizzie was having so much fun with Harry. And it was true, Lizzie's happiness, her thirst for life ended when she and Harry broke up. That stupid, regretful night. Her break up with Harry was hard to get over. Lizzie still isn't completely over him. Guilt sunk low in Lizzie's stomach as she thought this. Why did she risk everything she had for a meaningless thing?
Lizzie shifted these uneasy thoughts out of her mind and lifted herself gently out of the bath. In truth, she did feel better, though she still had a twinge of a headache, her hangover had disappeared. Now, to go and meet Hermione.
TBC...