Chapter 1
Five Years Later....
The sun would rise slowly over the horizon, its rays peaking through the dark curtains of the sitting room, turning more yellow, white or orange, depending on the time of day and the season. Then the rays would move throughout the small house during the day, illuminating the different rooms of the house. By the time Annabel was downstairs and in the kitchen, she heard movement throughout the corridors and chambers, her roommates were preparing for the day ahead.
Molly and Arthur were the first to head downstairs after Annabel, and the house would be hushed, as though still shaking off sleep. Then Hermione’s alarm clock would strike eight.
Annabel had watched and heard it happen every morning, it still amazes her as she stared down the hall, as a small hoard of people headed for the kitchen and bathrooms. Narrowing her dark blue eyes, she sighed at the mundanity of it all. She often wondered what it would be like to wake up differently again, she missed waking up in her own bedroom at her parents house, but since she moved them to America and the house has been sold, that couldn’t happen.
Annabel shook her head. It did her no good to wonder or wish, not in this life. The war was still going on, as it had been for 5 years. It was a waste of time dwelling on the past or the what-ifs. She had chores to do, potions to brew and she looked down at the book clutched within her hands—a new adventure to find. Straightening her shoulders, Annabel turned around and began taking the cutlery, plates and mugs from the top cupboard.
Annabel shook her head. It did her no good to wonder or wish, not in this life. The war was still going on, as it had been for 5 years. It was a waste of time dwelling on the past or the what-ifs. She had chores to do, potions to brew and she looked down at the book clutched within her hands—a new adventure to find. Straightening her shoulders, Annabel turned around and began taking the cutlery, plates and mugs from the top cupboard.
Within minutes, the table was set and everyone was sitting in their place around the table, well all except Molly. She was helping Annabel make breakfast. Even though she had lived with them all for five years and she had basically grown up with them, she still felt like a stranger. She didn’t have much in common with them, she loved reading but they didn’t appreciate literature as much as she did, well Hermione did, but she read for education, she didn’t read for fun.
Weaving her way through the crowded kitchen, she listened to the conversations being said. She felt a pang of loneliness as she watched them talk to one another, but she shouldn’t because she was friends with them all, but something deep within her soul hurt when she saw how perfectly content they all were, even as the war was brewing outside the walls of this foundation of bricks and stone.
Annabel finished making the bacon and she set the plate on the table, grease covering her fingers. As always, Ron was the first to grab a piece of bacon muttering to himself of how hungry he was.
“Is the bacon any good?” Annabel questioned.
Ron looked up from his plate and met her eyes. “It’s amazing.” And then his face went back down towards his plate.
Weaving her way through the crowded kitchen, she listened to the conversations being said. She felt a pang of loneliness as she watched them talk to one another, but she shouldn’t because she was friends with them all, but something deep within her soul hurt when she saw how perfectly content they all were, even as the war was brewing outside the walls of this foundation of bricks and stone.
Annabel finished making the bacon and she set the plate on the table, grease covering her fingers. As always, Ron was the first to grab a piece of bacon muttering to himself of how hungry he was.
“Is the bacon any good?” Annabel questioned.
Ron looked up from his plate and met her eyes. “It’s amazing.” And then his face went back down towards his plate.
Annabel noticed that Molly had put red jam on the table, along with butter and around three dozen slices of toast. Once the pancakes were finally done, Annabel put them onto the table and quickly grabbed a slice of bacon, a slice of toast and a small pancake and she started to head out of the kitchen, but Arthur spoke up. “Annabel, where are you off too?”
She looked back over her shoulder. “To the basement to brew more blood replenishing potions.” She said with a small piece of bacon in her mouth. “Since Professor Snape isn’t here-“
“Well alright, just thought that you would eat breakfast with us for once, especially since you help Molly every morning.” Arthur interrupted.
“It’s fine, I just want to get started.” Annabel responded, slightly irritated.
She watched as Arthur smiled and waved her off. Annabel sighed. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction. No one took an interest in brewing potions or especially the topic of the missing Severus Snape. Anything other than talk of the war, family or themselves was met with indifference-or, worse, disdain.
Just once, She thought as she closed the basement door behind her and started heading down the stairs with her food and book. I’d like to meet someone who enjoys the art of potion brewing and who enjoys the literature that is produced within the world. As she walked towards her cauldron, she finished her breakfast and set her book down on the table far from her work space, she didn’t need a distraction, especially from a book.
As the cauldron heated, she gathered her ingredients and manually went with the flow. She relaxed to the sound of the cauldron bubbling and she sighed. She wished that the Severus Snape was with her, so he could teach her his way of brewing.
She shook her head and told herself to focus, she didn’t have time to daydream, she had to stay in the present because that is where she was.
She looked back over her shoulder. “To the basement to brew more blood replenishing potions.” She said with a small piece of bacon in her mouth. “Since Professor Snape isn’t here-“
“Well alright, just thought that you would eat breakfast with us for once, especially since you help Molly every morning.” Arthur interrupted.
“It’s fine, I just want to get started.” Annabel responded, slightly irritated.
She watched as Arthur smiled and waved her off. Annabel sighed. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction. No one took an interest in brewing potions or especially the topic of the missing Severus Snape. Anything other than talk of the war, family or themselves was met with indifference-or, worse, disdain.
Just once, She thought as she closed the basement door behind her and started heading down the stairs with her food and book. I’d like to meet someone who enjoys the art of potion brewing and who enjoys the literature that is produced within the world. As she walked towards her cauldron, she finished her breakfast and set her book down on the table far from her work space, she didn’t need a distraction, especially from a book.
As the cauldron heated, she gathered her ingredients and manually went with the flow. She relaxed to the sound of the cauldron bubbling and she sighed. She wished that the Severus Snape was with her, so he could teach her his way of brewing.
She shook her head and told herself to focus, she didn’t have time to daydream, she had to stay in the present because that is where she was.
