Yes, I am updating for the third time in a row. Don't get used to these everyday updates, because I have finals coming up and I'm going to do my best dedicating myself to those. This chapter is the longest one so far, so hopefully, it'll keep you occupied until I update again.
Chapter Two: Relocation
As a child, I never assumed that I'd ever leave our precious home of Godric's Hollow. Everything had happened there – the growth of my friendship with James, the annual neighborhood picnics, and my father's infamous incident with a batch of Devil Snare. I had always dreamt of spending my teenage and adult years in the cozy, little Longbottom cottage.
But my parents didn't think the same way. Dad was restless to finally be assured the position of Herbology professor at Hogwarts – he didn't receive the job until Pomona Sprout finally decided to retire when I was nine years old. And Mum was tired of being the common housewife. She had given birth to three children – Frank Neville, Eleanor Susan, and I. Mum now felt that she had done her job in providing herself and Dad with human joys, and longed for a job outside of the house.
It was on October 15th, 2012, when Tom Boggs, landlord and bartender of The Leaky Cauldron, passed away of old age. The entire Wizardry world fell into deep mourning, each wizard having encountered Tom at least once in his or her lifetime. I recall snooping on my parents a few nights after Tom's death, hiding behind the door to the den while Mum and Dad talked in there with hushed voices.
"It's like fate, Neville!" Mum had squealed to Dad. "They're taking applications for the position of landlord…or landlady, in my case!" I could hear her light, girlish laugh even through the thick, wooden door. "I can send one in…and…even if I don't get the job, the staff at the pub will hopefully recommend me to another shop in Diagon Alley! It's all I ever wanted, Neville…things will get so much better than they are now." There was a pause, and Mum then continued, "…You are all right with possibly leaving here, are you?"
I heard a wet smack as my father kissed my mother. "If you're happy, I'm more than happy, Hannah. The children will be so excited."
That was the first time in my life when I grew furious at both of my parents. I was far from excited about having the thought of moving to London implanted in my brain. At just seven years old, memories were occurring each day – memories that could only be worth treasuring if they took place in Godric's Hollow. From then on, I did everything in my power to avoid my mother's applying to the job of landlady. First, I was daring enough to hide her application form in Dad's greenhouse, underneath some simple pots of daises.
But that idea soon failed. I was helping my father take notes on some plants' growth when he came across the paper while moving his daises to another part of the greenhouse. "Alice!" he blared, the application form clutched in his soil-covered hand. "How do you explain this?"
With a purposely bratty air, I looked up from my observation notebook casually and replied, "Oh, Eleanor must have been playing 'hide-an-item-of-Mummy's'."
Dad turned very red then. He wasn't used to me sassing him off like that, especially at such a young age. "Alice Pomona, don't you ever do something like that again. This is very important to your mummy…" He seemed at lost for words, as if punishing his little girl was too much for him. "…And she'll be very angry with you if you misplaced it." My father's poor 'punishment' was quickly forgotten when he threw me a scowling look before leaving the greenhouse to return the application form to my mother.
That night, Mum hurriedly filled out the form at the kitchen table, while drinking her nightly cup of tea. Dad had told her all about how I'd tried to hide it, leading to Mum giving me a talk right before I fell asleep.
She had knocked gently and motherly on my bedroom door. I called out to her that the door was unlocked, and Mum walked in, with an unreadable expression. She sat herself down upon my bed, where I was once again staring at Frank and Alice's wedding photo. Feeling uneasy with the photograph in my hands, I shoved it underneath my pillow as Mum sat down.
"Ally, darling, Daddy told me about how you hid my application form," Mum leaned forward to brush aside some of my loose hairs. We were both blondes, and I had hated it when people used to call me "Hannah's clone". I loathed being compared to her – I was nothing Abbot…despite my looks, I was a Longbottom…it was that simple.
I avoided her eyes. "Yes. I hid it."
Mum had no problem with me keeping no eye contact. "Alice, you're a tad too young to understand how much this job means to me. I've always wanted a job in a popular place like Diagon Alley. And I know you don't want to leave Godric's Hollow, but whining and stealing my application form isn't going to help. You have to learn that we have to do many things we don't always want to do – it's what makes us better people." She smiled warily at me, and kissed my forehead. "All right?"
The cogs already turning in my head, I smiled as innocently as I could. "Yes, Mummy. G'night."
My mother smiled once more, and left the room, closing the door behind her. As I listened to her steps retreating down the hall, I suspected that I'd be paying a visit to James Potter the next day…
If someone from my grandparents' era time-traveled to our time period, they might mistake James Sirius Potter for James Potter Sr. Not only did my best friend take freakishly after his grandfather when he was James's age, he had also inherited a habit for playing pranks. By our sixth Christmas, he had already swiped the Marauder's Map from his father's office. Harry Potter himself had told us of the story of the Marauders when we were of early age. Mr. Potter was always eager to tell us of his teen experiences, despite that my parents and Mrs. Potter often feared that the stories were too much for youngsters like us.
The day after my father uncovered Mum's form in the greenhouse, I left our house after breakfast, telling my mother that I was going for a walk around the village – Godric's Hollow was small and safe after wartime, and even seven-year-old girls could roam through it unattended.
A short, meaningless walk turned out to be a visit to the Potter household. There was nothing to dislike about visiting that family and their home. Their house's structure was very similar to the Longbottoms' – it was merely a tiny, two-story cottage like ours, with the typical green shutters and the front porch bearing wicker furniture. From the outside, the house appeared normal, but once you stepped inside, chaos would erupt.
When James and I were around five, all you saw after coming into the house were James and his little brother Albus speeding by on toy broomsticks. This welcoming ritual very often reoccurred for another three years. Then there'd be the baby of the family, Lily, running to you, begging you to play 'Barbie dolls' with her. Lily adored those Muggle products – Ginny Potter finally took them away from her when her daughter was six, believing that the plastic, immobile women would affect Lily's self-consciousness in her adolescent life.
When I visited the Potter household that particular day, I entered without knocking as usual – I was such a regular at that house that I didn't even need to signal my arrival. Inside, I was immediately curious and thrown off by the unusual quietness. A sudden creak upstairs caused me to jump. James's face, looking rather pale, then appeared at the top of the staircase.
I smiled brightly at him. "Hello, James!"
Frowning at me, he placed a finger in front of his lips, shushing me. Peering behind him one last time, he trampled down the stairs as quietly but as rapidly as he could. When he approached me, he almost looked as if he was about to cry. "Dad found out that I have the Marauder's Map."
My shoulders slumped without thought. Our carefree, childish world would not be the same without the Map. The number of hours we had spent hiding in Dad's greenhouse, marveling over the moving dots of the parchment and creating stories about the people the dots signified! "What? I thought you had it in a secret place!"
James blushed. "My closet was secret…until Mum decided to clean it out."
As compared to the relationship we had later at Hogwarts, our childhood friendship was much different. In the timeless days of Godric's Hollow, our friendship first begun due to our parents being close. Over time, when we has mastered the art of talking, I was really the one that kept the friendship together – I was slightly bossy as a child, and wasn't afraid to tell people off. I was the one who at age three screamed at James when he refused to play with a girl. "I can get just as muddy and dirty and pushy as you!" I had declared to him. To back up my words, I had even jumped into a nearby mud puddle after my statement.
James had become hysterical over my actions – he was the only one who grew so, as Mum was furious when I came home in a dirty state, and Dad was cross with me because the mud I jumped into had splattered some of his plants displayed on the front lawn.
"I'm sorry about the Map, James." I said the day of my visit. "But I know what we can do today!" And I sat down on the bottom stair and spilled out everything that had happened in the past few days – my mother applying for a landlady position, me hiding her application, and my father finding it. Finally, I said, "I need you to help me hide Mum's form again – in a place where she won't find it."
James, although a troublemaker, tended to mull over things longer than I did. Considerably, he asked me, "Why don't you want to live in London? That's where all of the fun places are!" He gave me a sheepish grin and added, "Except Hogwarts."
Something inside my seven-year-old body told me to not tell James of the true reason why I didn't want to go – I really wanted to stay in Godric's Hollow because of the Potter family, which mostly referred to James. But I knew that children our age still thought that the opposite sex contained cooties – I never thought this because of my constant time spent with the Potter boys. But James had already shown signs of believing in this – he still played with me at ease, but we didn't wrestle boyishly anymore, like we had when we were younger. So, wanting to hide the truth, I replied, "London has too many places. I like it here because it's so quiet and empty."
James shrugged. "Okay then. I guess I'll help you, now that Dad has the Map back. You mum didn't send in the form yet?"
"No. She plans to send it in later this afternoon though, so we'd better try to hide it now."
And so James and I rose from the steps, and he called out to his mother, who was gardening in the backyard, that he was going with me to our house. We practically ran down the paved road, entering my front foyer in a sooty and breathless state. When we arrived at my home, we learned that my mother had gone shopping for groceries, taking Eleanor with her. Dad and Frankie were out working in the greenhouse, as usual. Delighted that the house was empty, I led James into the kitchen, where the envelope consisting of Mum's application form laid on the table. It was already addressed, and had a stamp pasted in the corner.
The staff at the Leaky Cauldron had stated to all applicants that they must drop their forms off at their local Wizardry post office, where the forms would travel by owl to London. I was completely aware that this afternoon was the deadline for forms, which made hiding it today even more brilliant.
For a few minutes, we just sat staring at the envelope – I was waiting for James to come up with a genius idea, and he was waiting for the idea to strike him. Finally, he spoke, "Let's burn it."
My eyes practically bulged out of my head. "Burn it?"
"Sure. Your fireplace has logs in it now, doesn't it? All we have to do is find some matches, start a fire, and toss the envelope in. And then, you all stay here in Godric's Hollow."
A small part of me doubted this plan, but a more dominant part of me was eager to participate in another original, James Potter plan. "All right!" I handed him the envelope, and sent him into our den, where the fireplace was. I then began rummaging through the kitchen drawers for a box of matches. I succeeded in my search, and skipped into the den, beginning to think that everything was going to be all right with this application form burned.
But we were dumbfounded when it was time to light a match. "Do you know how to light one?" James asked me.
"I…I've seen Mum and Dad do it before…but…" I shoved the match and its box at him. "I'm too scared to do it. Here, all you have to do is run the match against that little strip there."
A line of worry was seen on James's forehead. "Couldn't we just use a wand to make a fire?"
"My parents both have theirs with them!" I retorted. "Just do it!"
James let in to my commands. We were both stunned when a tiny light appeared at one end of the match after he swiped against the strip on the box. "Well…" he glanced at me once more. "Shall we do it?"
I tossed the envelope into the empty fireplace, and peered back at James. "Go on."
Now, before I continue, I must share with you the fact that our family happened to be pet-sitting the Weasleys' dog during that time, and Rollins was a hyperactive and rambunctious collie that didn't understand the meaning of 'no'. Just as James leaned in to ignite Mum's envelope, Rollins came bounding into the den, barking at the top of his lungs…
…And ran right into James, causing my friend to drop the match…
…. Exactly on top of my big toe – which was bare, due to the fact that I was wearing sandals. I howled out in pain, and the waterworks quickly arrived. James began yelling out his apologies frantically, while at the same time scolding Rollins. My father heard all of the commotion from outside, and he came running in immediately.
Dad was never the type to yell or get angry, and that day was one of the few when he yelled so loudly that he was hoarse the next day. His face turned tomato red when he saw my burnt toe, James's panicking face, and most importantly, the envelope in the fireplace. "Oy! What happened here?" He didn't wait for an explanation. Instead, he continued, "Alice, what did I say about hiding your mother's application form?" He hurried over to the fireplace to scoop up the envelope, and then turned to face me again. "And you got James involved too! What a inconsiderate thing to do, Alice!" Suddenly remembering that an outsider was in our home, he politely said to James, "Listen here, son, you go home now. I don't blame you for all this – Alice is the one to blame. Alice…?" He shot me one of his infamous looks.
I silently looked down at my feet. "I'm sorry for getting you involved, James."
Bewildered, James nodded with wide eyes, a sign that he accepted my apology. He left the house more quickly than he ever did before. Once the door slammed after his departure, Dad looked down at me, and quietly took my hand, leading me to the kitchen to apply ice and bandages on my toe. "Alice, you're not a little girl anymore," he told me as he wrapped my toe in cloth. "You're old enough to get through situations that you're not pleased about. I'm very disappointed in you."
Seeing my father angry at me was rare, and tears rolled down my cheeks – mostly because my toe still inflicted pain on me, but also because I was afraid my father didn't love me anymore. "Daddy…do you hate me?"
That did it to him. His bad temper melted, and he once again saw me as his precious firstborn. Dad hugged me then, and replied, "No, sweetie. I could never hate you. Mummy and I will be disappointed or angry with you sometime in the future, but we could never stop loving you or your brother or your sister. You three mean the world to us."
I treasured that moment for the rest of my life. When I looked upon that day in later times, I realized that my father and I had always carried a special bond between us, even when it seemed we were as far away as possible from each other. Mum was a mother to me, and no more than that. But Daddy was a father, friend, teacher, and counselor all in one…
Mum came home from that market that day in high spirits, which rapidly dissolved when she heard of what occurred when she was out. She chose to not speak of the incident with me, saying that my father had done all the talking necessary. She ran out to the post office to send in her application almost immediately after she stored away all of the food she had just purchased. When Mum returned, she couldn't help but look at me crossly. I'm positive that if I weren't Hannah Longbottom's seven-year-old daughter, Mum would have strangled me that night.
For the next five months, the application form was soon forgotten, having been sent out with nothing more to do but pray that Mum would get rejected. It was in April of 2013 when a letter from the Leaky Cauldron arrived, saying that they were pleased to inform us that Mum had been granted the job of landlady. My parents were ecstatic, perhaps happier than I had ever seen them before. My brother and sister were still young and naïve at the time, and were eager about the idea of living in an entire new environment. I seemed to be the only Longbottom downhearted about this upcoming change.
The following three months consisted of packing our belongings into various trunks, valises, and carry-on bags. At first, I flatly refused to pack away the things of my own, until Mum threatened to take away the photograph of my grandparents. She was rather stressed and cranky during the preparations before moving. Many times during my childhood, I called her a hag behind her back. But Mum was anything but a hag – I was just too blind to see her true, angelic behavior. That must have been the reason why Dad said nothing during the times Mum scolded me in those few months – he was in love with the so-called hag woman, and knew her better than I did.
It was in August when we moved to London, exactly twelve days after my eighth birthday. It was raining like mad the day we were scheduled to leave Godric's Hollow, so instead of taking a Muggle vehicle like planned, we traveled to the Leaky Cauldron via Floo Powder. The pub was deserted when we arrived, as it had been temporarily closed when Tom Boggs died. The place looked more ghastly and spooky than ever.
The rain pattering constantly on the creaky roof, my mother began dusting off all of the tables and the bar countertop, while Dad accompanied Frankie, Eleanor, and I upstairs to our new flat to help us put together our bedrooms – Eleanor and I were to share one. That was a new frontier for me – never had I shared my bedroom with my sister before. And our living quarters! Us five Longbottoms were to live in a cramped, four-room flat on the sixth floor of the building, where no guests' rooms were located. Our kitchen and den were morphed into one room, and my parents' bedroom was minuscule compared to their own back home – yet, it was the largest bedroom. We were told that Frank's bedroom had originally been a broom closet, and the room Eleanor and I were to sleep in was formerly a bathroom.
"Why didn't they keep the bathroom?' I remember questioning my father. "It's one of the most important rooms!" Later that night, our parents announced that we would have to use the bathroom behind the downstairs bar for bathing and using the toilet. As if I wasn't enough horrified, I grew even more disgusted of the Leaky Cauldron.
Before bed that night, I just couldn't take the misery anymore. I escaped from our flat after supper, running downstairs to the main floor. Flinging myself down at a table, I let out all of the tears I had been holding back the whole day, afraid to show my crushed and enraged mood. The emotions just flew out, no longer hesitating to stay inside. I don't remember what happened later that night, but when I woke up the next morning, I was still seated at the table, and there was the quilt that had lain on my bed in Godric's Hollow resting on my back. One of my parents must have understood the pain I was suffering, and knew it would be best not to disturb me.
Little did I suspect, the rest of my childhood would grow more and more lonely as time passed on. It was only during the summer before my first Hogwarts year when things would become better…
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