Friday, June 18th
Everything, however, did not turn out fine. At least not they way that I wanted it to. By Friday my mother and I had both packed up our belongings and booked our means of travel. Mom even managed to rent out our house for the summer on such short notice.
Emma had come to see me off, and so there we stood in the kitchen of our little beach house, shuffling around out of my mother's way as she hurries around the kitchen, making sure that all of our luggage is there and everything is in order.
"I really don't want to do this," I mutter to Emma, who smiles sympathetically.
"I really don't want you to do this," she replies. I watch as she slips her ring off of her finger and passes it to me. After a quick glance I recognize it as the mood ring we had got out of a toy machine at a diner when we were children, before either of us knew that Emma had magic. She had found it in her room years ago, and we had taken to trading it back and forth once a year.
"Look, I know it's my year. You can give it back when you come home, but you should take it. Maybe it'll be comforting or something."
I slip it on my finger, laughing, "Emma, you sentimental fool."
"Oh shut up, Abbot. And say hi to James for me," she winks. "The Potters practically have their own column in the Daily Prophet, and he gets better looking every time I see him." Emma is a bit of a current events freak, and reads most major newspapers, wizarding and No-Maj. Around third year I told her about my family's history with the war, and my history with the greatest families of the war.
"You shut up!" I'm grinning, but I'm holding back tears and I know Emma is too. Being neighbors, we hadn't gone a week without seeing each other since we were 11. And now I'm going to be gone for an entire summer, so of course we were being a little dramatic. "You better write."
"Of course."
"Okay, dear, time to go," my mom cuts in. I send a withering glare over my shoulder at her, but I don't think she catches it as she loads the suitcases into one with an undetectable extension charm placed on it for easier transportation.
"Miss Abbot, I want you to know that you're making like, a huge mistake," Emma pleads.
"You're gonna be fine, Em," my mum says, and her slight British accent seems more prominent than before.
I glance at the clock and see that we have about 45 seconds before the portkey takes off. I reach for the empty soda bottle and place one finger on it as my mother does the same. I take another glance up at Emma, who is smiling wryly at us.
"Bye, dude," she whispers.
"See y-" I'm cut off by a gut-wrenching tug at my navel.
The landing is rough. I have always had an intense hatred for portkeys, and now I remember why. I shake my head, pivoting to face the door of the pub. I brace myself, then make my way inside, Mom following closely behind.
It takes me a moment to adjust to the dim lighting of the Leaky. It's as busy as ever, filled with the interesting characters that you would expect to pass through Wizarding London. I spot Hannah wiping down the bar, so I head in her direction. When I'm halfway there she happens to glance up and spot us.
"Di! Finn!" she shouts, running out from behind the bar to envelope us in hugs. After squeezing all of the air from my mom's lungs she turns on me, gripping me tightly before she releases me, holding me at arm's' length to look me up and down. "Look how much you've grown! You're so tall and beautiful! Look at her, Di!"
"Don't I know it, Hannah," my mom smirks. "She gets it from her mum."
I beam at Hannah, relishing in the fact that she hasn't changed since I last saw her a year ago. Half my height and curvier than I could ever dream to be, Hannah is as gorgeous as ever.
"Look at me? Look at you!" I retort, and she grins from ear to ear.
"Come, come. We were expecting you two about a half hour ago, Neville and Beth are upstairs getting ready for supper." She grabs Mom by the hand and tugs her up a spiral staircase behind the bar, and I hurry after them. Not many of the customers realize that because of those handy undetectable expansion charms, the Leaky Cauldron not only houses an inn above the pub, but a cozy apartment for the owner and her family as well.
"Sorry, we must have miscommunicated the portkey time. What are we eating?" I question excitedly. Hannah's food is to die for, and with a mother who is always gone, I've grown very accustomed to pizza and Chinese take-out. Home-cooked meals are always something I look forward to when staying with the Longbottoms.
"Hmph! Did you miss me at all or just my cooking?" My aunt jokes. I roll my eyes and place a kiss on her cheek, then look around the moderately-sized kitchen that we just entered. It's cluttered and homey, just what I remember it to be like. However, my uncle and cousin are usually lurking around waiting for food to be served, so to smell food in the oven but see no one around is quite strange.
Hannah looks stumped as well. She marches over to the oven, sighs, then turns the temperature down a few notches. "Nev told me that he would watch the roast, but I should've known better. I hope you like your carrots overcooked. Oh, and I remembered that you don't eat meat, so I put yours in a separate pot."
"Like them? I prefer them that way! And thanks." Hannah just smiles at me, then heads over to the doorway to the living room.
"NEVILLE, BETH, GET YOU REARENDS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" She bellows. I wince at her volume, but it obviously works because not a moment later two figures burst into the room. Hannah goes back to the kitchen area, not even glancing up at the pair. "Watch the roast and set the table, is it really that difficult?" She mutters.
"Finn!" Neville and Beth exclaim together, tackling me into a group hug. I've definitely reaching my hugging quota for the day.
"What am I, chopped liver?" My mom jokes, before joining the hug.
"Oh, we missed you too I suppose, Aunt Di," Beth laughs.
"Well look who went and grew up!" I say to my uncle, who looks down at his daughter with pride filled eyes. Beth giggles, twirling her hair around her finger in a jesting manner.
"I know, I know. It's like I'm thirty." I reach over and ruffle the thirteen-year-old's hair, knowing that she hates it.
"And you!" Neville adds, "I'd say how tall you are but I'm sure that Hannah covered that already!"
"Well of course!" I chuckle, and Neville winks at me before going over to help Hannah.
"Set the table please, Beth," he commands, to which she rolls her eyes and complies.
Hannah looks horribly disgruntled by this. "Why is it that when I tell her to do it she practically laughs in my face? Then you ask her-" Neville interrupts her with a peck on the lips and I can't help but be annoyed at their cuteness. Hannah just sighs and opens the oven, taking out the large pot and carrying it over to the table.
I take this as an invitation to sit down and soon we're all seated around the wooden dining table on the far side of the kitchen.
"So I see the Leaky is doing well," I observe, to which Hannah smiles pleasantly.
"Yes, I'm hoping to be able to do some renovations to the older rooms towards the end of the summer."
"That's great, even though I doubt it's necessary."
"Oh, they're fine, just a bit outdated."
"How are Emma and Angelica?" Beth asks. "Those are their names, right?"
"Yeah, they're doing well. Emma was really upset about my leaving," I explain, trying not to let my eyes fill with tears at the thought of my best friend.
"I'm sure. We miss you tons when you're gone. And Angelica? How is she?" Hannah asks politely.
"She's great. I normally don't get to see her much in the summer anyway," I say flatly, not even wanting to think about it.
"Oh, that's too bad. Maybe we could arrange a visit."
I nod excitedly in agreement.
"Hey, how are the Harpies doing, Neville? Still the best team out there?" My mom interjects, seemingly struck by a thought.
"Of course!" He replies through a mouthful of potatoes. "They beat the…'
And so the night goes. After catching up with my family and eating a wonderful dinner, Hannah shows me out of the flat, back through the bar, and up the other flight of stairs to the inn. We go a few paces down the dim hallway before she stops at one of the doors on the left and puts in the key, turning it and opening the door for me to enter. She says goodnight and hands me the key before excusing herself to head to bed.
The room is beautiful, with light wood floors and white walls. It's organized like a studio apartment, with a bedroom, living area, and tiny kitchen. The furniture is all white and the bedspread, couch, and other decorations are various hues of carribean blue and sea green. I can tell that it was decorated just for me when I notice the jar of seashells on the bedside table. I head over to my bags, once again thankful for undetectable extension charms for enabling me to bring with me my entire small library of books. I notice a bookshelf near the couch, so I place the heavy bag of books next to that. I had packed 178 books, because I wasn't sure what I would want to read while I'm here, and also, who can ever have too many books?
I decide not to unpack tonight, because it had been a long day, and unpacking really is a hassle. However, one of my bags had my plants in it, which definitely could not be left in the dark for any longer.
I set out to find the bag, unable to remember where I put it, but eventually find it inside of the bag that I packed my books in. I carefully take out each pot, inspecting the plants as I place them on and around the windowsill. A few of them were looking quite wilted, but that can be expected after a long day of travel. I know how they feel.
When I was finally settled in, I collapsed on the queen bed with a copy of the Great Gatsby, ready to read my troubles away. I don't think I made it thirty pages before I was out.