Chapter Two -
Hannah Abbott sighed as she prepared herself for the weekly visit to her father's house. It wasn't that she dreaded it exactly… it just wasn't her favourite time of the week. She would much prefer to stay at home, in her tiny apartment over Eeylops Owl Emporium on Diagon Alley.
She loved her apartment. She loved the tiny living room and kitchen, and her small bedroom. She loved her little art studio (the spare bedroom, really), that smelled of paint and turpentine. She loved the iron balcony where she would sit on her evenings off, people watching, and listening to the squawks of birds coming from the shop below. If she saw an interesting person, she would paint them.
Every person on Diagon Alley knew Hannah as the happy-go-lucky barmaid at the Leaky Cauldron, or as the girl who painted "pretty pictures". She was well known and loved for her warm nature and cheerful smile.
If only her father was so understanding.
Hannah stood in the mirror in her bedroom, inspecting herself for the last time. Her longish blonde hair was down around her shoulders, neatly brushed. She tugged at her irritating full fringe and wished for the one hundredth time that it would hurry up and grow out. She could have fixed it with magic of course, but she just didn't trust herself. She glanced at her pale green dress, and made sure that her wand was tucked into her bag. She checked that she had the box of Honeydukes Finest Chocolates that she always brought, and then realized with a sigh that it was time to go.
She left her bedroom and walked over to the little red brick fireplace in her living room. It was far too small to use as a Floo port, but she kept her little snuff box of Floo powder there anyway, behind the old clock she had picked up cheap at a market in Belgium. It squealed something in French at her, and in spite of her dread, she smiled.
Hannah left her apartment without even bothering to lock it. Nobody locked their doors since the downfall of… Voldemort. She shuddered slightly as she thought his name. It was still hard for wizarding folk to speak of the evil wizard who had killed so many people - muggles and magic. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered being pulled out of school in her sixth year, after her mother was murdered by cold blooded Death Eaters.
As Hannah walked down Diagon Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron, she could help but smile. Evening light flooded the alley, and the air was full of the happy sounds of playing children, and the soft hum of late shoppers. She passed Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which was closed. The hugely successful shop had put poor Gamble and Japes out of business.
She smiled at the memory of the Weasley twins' attempts at lightening everybody's mood at such a dark time of their lives. The door was still open, and Hannah spotted the back of George Weasley as he stocked shelves in the shop. Little Roxanne Weasley was sitting on the step in front of the shop, playing with somebody's wand. She giggled as she made sparks emit from the end, and looked startled when Angelina, her mother, snatched it from her.
Hannah waved to Angelina, but didn't stop. She didn't know the Weasley's that well - after all, they hadn't been in her house at school, and apart from Ron, none of them had been in her year. But as the barmaid at the Leaky Cauldron, Hannah knew almost everyone.
Tom, the old landlord of the Leaky Cauldron waved at Hannah as she came in.
"Visiting your father tonight, Hannah?" Tom enquired as he rubbed the bar with a rag.
Hannah nodded, her smile tense.
"Give him my best, then."
"Thanks, Tom." Hannah said. Tom offered greetings every time Hannah visited her father, but Hannah never gave them to him. On the couple of occasions that Mr Abbott and Tom had met, Hannah's father had been unbearably rude.
"Abbott Cottage, Honeysuckle Lane, Ambleside, the Lake District," Hannah said clearly, before stepping into the emerald flames.
"Hannah!" She heard a voice say as she stumbled out of the fireplace. "Sweetheart."
A moment later, before she'd even managed to regain her balance or see clearly, she was pulled into a hug. She inhaled the scent of pipe tobacco, peppermint, and weed killer - all in all, the scent of her father.
"Dad, hi!" She said, pulling away from him and kissing him on the cheek.
"Give me another hug," He said warmly. "It's been so long."
"Not even two weeks, Dad," She muttered. "Not that long."
"Well, it seems like a long time to an old man."
"Sixty-three isn't old!"
"Feels old to me!"
Hannah laughed and rolled her eyes. She handed her dad the box of chocolates (his eyes lit up - he loved Honeydukes chocolate) and ambled into the kitchen.
"Dad, don't you ever go shopping?" She asked, exasperated, as she opened the bare cupboards in the tiny kitchen. "It's a wonder you don't starve to death."
Her dad crossed his arms defensively. "I do alright on my own, Hannah Katherine Abbott. I don't need you to boss me around."
She held up her hands. "Alright, alright."
"What's for dinner?"
She sighed as she inspected the fridge. "The only edible thing you have here is a packet of chops."
"Chops it is!" Her dad said, clapping his hands. "The September veggies are up. They're out in the shed, I'll get them. What do you need?"
"Carrots, broccoli and potatoes," Hannah said with a sigh. Her father (who was a horticulturist, and insisted that he only ate natural, home-grown vegetables) headed out to the shed.
Hannah loved her father, she really did. She just found it so hard to look after him all the time. Her brother, Jack, lived in Australia with his Irish girlfriend, Katie, and though she was furious at him for practically abandoning her and their father, she was insanely jealous of him too. He got to live his own life out there in Australia. He was a Healer in a small, all magic town in the middle of the outback somewhere.
"How're things at work?" William Abbott questioned his daughter as she opened a packet of lamb chops with her wand and lift them on a frying pan. He watched with interest. Magic never failed to amaze him.
Hannah shrugged. She knew her father didn't approve of her working in a pub, but she loved her job.
"It's fine. Bit quieter now that all the kids are back in Hogwarts."
"But wouldn't that make it busier? With parents having more freedom?"
"Well, the evenings are busier I suppose." With a wave of her wand, Hannah set the small kitchen table. Her father ducked dramatically as knives and forks lurched themselves out of drawers and settled neatly on the table.
"You should be used to it by now," She said reproachfully, chopping carrots and boiling them with the broccoli.
"What, magic? Hannah, my dear, I lived with your mother for almost twenty years, and I'm still not used to it."
Hannah's eyes began to prickle uncomfortably at the mention of her mother, as always.
"You been down to the grave recently?" Her Dad enquired.
Hannah swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat and shrugged. "Couple of weeks ago."
She was a liar. She hadn't visited the grave in years.
Her father looked at her. She shifted uncomfortably.
"You want gravy?" She asked, trying to change the subject. Her father's eyes were narrowed as though he didn't want to let the subject go, but he did.
"Smells great!" A loud voice carried through the house, and Hannah shoved her wand out of sight.
"'Lo, Cal," William said as his nephew entered the kitchen.
"Hey, Wil - Hannah!"
Hannah grinned as her cousin moved into the kitchen and hugged her.
"How're you getting on up in London?" Cal asked as he pulled up a chair.
"Not too bad," Hannah shrugged. Cal knew about Hannah being a witch, though she rarely performed magic in front of him.
William Abbott sighed as he watched his daughter cooking and chattering away to her cousin. He hadn't ever wanted this for her. This… this half life. Working in London and rushing back to him every second she got. He wanted her to find someone, to settle down. She hadn't been the same since her mother had died, though it had been twenty years since it had happened. And Hannah wasn't getting any younger, either.
William knew that witches and wizards had longer life spans than the average "Muggle", but (and he cringed as this thought ran through his head) he didn't know if the same rule applied to witches and wizards having children. William wanted grandchildren, of course he did. Jack would eventually have kids, but he lived in Australia, for heavens sake. And he didn't want Hannah to get too old to have kids before she met anyone.
"Dad?" Hannah waved her hand in front of his face as she placed a plate of food in front of him. The smell of turpentine and jasmine soap filled his nostrils, and he was glad to know that she still painted.
"Sorry, love. It looks delicious."
She gave Cal a plate of food too, and then set her own (meat free) plate of food on the table.
William smiled at her vegetable-full plate. Hannah had decided to become a vegetarian after witnessing the death of a sheep on a local farm when she was eight. William and Hannah's mother, Allison, had thought it would be short-lived, but Hannah, stubborn as she was, hadn't eaten meant since.
He smiled affectionately at his daughter, who caught him staring. "What?" She asked, her mouth full of food.
He laughed. "Nothing, Hannah. Good food."
She laughed too, because he hadn't even picked up his fork yet.
Hannah spent the evening with what was left of her family. Cal was her twenty-five year old cousin on her father's side, whose parents had died along with Hannah's mother. He was like a brother to her.
Just before eleven, Hannah decided to go home. Cal and her Dad groaned, insisting that they would starve without her.
"Cal, you don't even live here!"
He lived in Grasmere, with his fiancée Laura.
"So?" He said shrugging. "Laura isn't a very good cook."
Hannah playfully smacked him around the head. Laura was a better cook than she was.
"I have to go, I have work in the morning."
William didn't say anything, but he sniffed loudly. Hannah knew he didn't approve of her job. He thought his daughter could do better than work in a pub, but if she was happy doing it, there wasn't much that he could say.
"I'll see you next week, Dad," She said, bending over and kissing him on the cheek.
"Bye, Han," He muttered as she stepped into the now green fire.
She was gone in a blur.
Sorry about the change, guys! I kept thinking about the first chapter I wrote, and to be honest, I wasn't comfortable with straying from canon. Everyone knows that Hannah's mother died in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince , and to be honest, I just didn't like how Hannah's family turned out. They sounded far too Slytherin-ish! I much prefer this chapter and this analyzation of Hannah's family, and I hope you do too. Please review and tell me your opinion. Thanks!
Lily
x