The Roses of Hogwarts | Cedric Diggory [1]

Chapter Three: The Photographer

Three pictures sat on the mantle of the fireplace in the living room of the small cottage. The first one was a picture of Oriane as a baby. Hardly a year old, she laid half asleep in a bassinet. Her dark hair was much shorter back then, and it sat in messy tufts on her head. It was a Muggle type of photo, a polaroid, Esme had called it. It was one Oriane's mother took herself, where it then sat in a small picture frame.

The second picture was of both Oriane and Esme. She was much older than in the previous photo; eight years old. Her long, raven black hair had been braided into pigtails by Esme, secured with a lovely pink ribbon that matched the color of her dress. Remus was the one to take that one, so it was different from the Muggle picture. Esme and Oriane moved in the photo. She tore into her birthday presents, and Esme helped clean up the mess.

The final picture was the largest, as it held more than just Oriane and Esme. Esme stood in the center of a small group of people. She was much younger than she was currently, yet her beauty was the same. A radiant glow emulated from her as she timidly smiled at the camera, before looking at the friends around her.

On her right was another young woman. She stood a few inches shorter than Esme, with long inky hair. Her dark eyes squinted with her smile as she brushed her hair behind her ear. Varity Morissette, Oriane's mother. They were near carbon copies of one another.

Next to her stood a man, who towered roughly a head above Varity. His strawberry blonde hair ruffled in the slight breeze, which he seemed to ignore as he pulled Varity closer with one arm. His smile was faint, but ever so slightly there as he, Alarick Morissette, looked down at his wife.

Two more people stood to the left of Esme, both the same age as the others. One was a man with glasses, who smiled at the redheaded girl next to him. It was almost as if there wasn't anyone else around them.

It was the only picture Oriane had ever seen of her parents. Even she could recognize the similarities between her and them. Her mothers black hair, her fathers eyes and freckles. It was the only reminder that she ever had parents to begin with. Otherwise, Esme was all she had ever known.

"I didn't expect you to be up so early."

Esme had been watching Oriane quietly from the doorway for quite some time. Oriane nearly jumped when she had finally spoke. It was easy to sneak up on her when she fell into those fits of thinking. Instead, she turned around, a soft smile gracing her lips.

"I was too excited to fall back asleep," she admitted.

September first came around faster than either of them had anticipated. Soon, Oriane would be off to Hogwarts, leaving her little cottage far behind. She had spent the last week preparing for everything, packing, double and triple checking that everything was in order.

Esme didn't say anything. Instead, she walked into the living room, sitting on the plush cushion of the sofa. She watched as Oriane's fingers gently ran over the frame of one of the photos on the mantle.

"Who took this picture?" Oriane finally spoke.

She didn't even need to stand up and see the picture to know which one she was talking about. It was the one furthest to the right, that had all her old friends. Varity and Alarick Morissette. Lily and James Potter.

Esme was the only person in that picture still alive.

"I don't know," she admitted, leaning back in the sofa with a smile. "It was so long ago. We had hardly graduated from Hogwarts when we took that."

Oriane's eyes stayed glued onto the photo the entire time Esme spoke. It replayed the same scene, over and over again. Her parents smiling at one another. The Potters smiling at one another. Esme, smiling into the camera.