The Roses of Hogwarts | Cedric Diggory [1]

Chapter Sixteen: Love Story

The cottage had been completely transformed come winter. The flowerbeds had long since frozen over, replaced by nothing but a heap of snow. Icicles hung from the thatched roof, glinting in whatever sunlight was able to seep through the clouds above them. Through the window a beautiful decorated Christmas tree could be seen, its lights seemed to warm the whole house.

Oriane stood next to Esme, trunk in hand, and feet deep in the snow. It had been several months since she had last seen her home. She wanted to say it felt welcoming. She wanted to say it felt nice. But it felt quite the opposite. As soon as she stepped through those doors, she knew something was going to happen.

If she was brave enough, she would make something change.

"Come on then," Esme urged her. She still donned the silly sunglasses she had worn to Diagon Alley. They looked especially out of place during winter time. But she could at least cover her hair with a warm hat and make it seem normal. "Let's get inside. We can start cooking dinner!"

And so the girls were off, trudging their way through a good layer of snow before coming to the front door. Warmth enveloped her on the first step she took inside. A roaring fire made its home on the hearth, and the house smelled strongly of cinnamon.

Oriane made a beeline to her room, opening the door. It was much colder than the rest of the house, cut off from the warmth of the fire, and far down the hallway. Her room didn't smell of cinnamon. It didn't smell of anything at all except old books and stale air. She set her trunk on the foot of her bed and opened it up to reveal the clothes she had packed for the holiday.

She spent a long while sorting her clothes, putting them into the near empty drawers of her dresser. A thin layer of dust covered just about everything in her room. Her nightstand, her windowsill, everything except her bedsheets. They smelled of fresh cotton, something that was no doubt Esme's doing.

A knock came from the other side of the room. Oriane turned to see Esme, standing in the doorway. She had changed out of her ridiculous clothing, and instead wore what she normally did. A simple pair of trousers and a blush pink shirt. Her hair still radiated despite the darkness of the hallway behind her, and she beamed as she looked at Oriane.

"Did you want to help me with dinner?" Esme asked. "I've got an idea for a nice meal. Of course, it won't be too big as I'm saving most of the food for Christmas, but I thought maybe we could roast a chicken? I also got some potatoes for mash!"

Icy eyes turned away from Esme as Oriane turned her attention back to the clothes in her trunk. Her throat felt tight, and it burned so bad her eyes began to water.

"Yeah. I'll be out in a second," she said, voice hardly carrying across the small room.

She continued to sort her clothes, refolding any that had gotten messed up on her trip home. Esme continued to stand in the doorway for a moment, eyes going dull as she watched the young girl work.

"Alright," Esme said softly, "I'll go ahead and get started then."

Esme vanished from the doorway, her footsteps going quiet as she walked down the hallway. In a fit of frustration Oriane paused and ran her fingers through her hair. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to snuff out any hint of moisture as she took a deep breath.

After long consideration, she finally left her room, meandering into the kitchen where Esme was hard at work. While her back was turned, Oriane instead wandered into the living room. The fire still danced brightly, and it lit up the small pictures on the mantel. Her as a child. Opening presents on her birthday with Esme. Her parents, along with Harry's parents, and Esme right in the middle of them all, smiling brightly at the camera.