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CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH THE POTTERS HAVE A GUEST

. . .



One thing that Tiger hated about Winter, despite the beauty in the unmarked, early morning snow, was how cold it was. She wasn't a fan of the cold.

She liked summer dresses, and laying in the grass and drinking tall glasses of pink lemonade which had ice and those stupid tiny umbrellas floating in.

Tiger liked to wear short skirts and blouses with puffy sleeves that ended just above her belly button, to wear those circle of plaited thread which made rainbow ring around her ankles and wrists.

Summer seemed to comfortable, so friendly. And in comparison to the harsh, cruel days of Winter, the season in the center of the year was just so much more desirable.

Tiger Howell was wishing it was Summer as she wandered up and down the lanes of the almost deserted village. Snow had began to fall, and there wasn't a sound. But she wasn't scared, she had never been afraid of the dark.

She was scared of what could be there, but she knew there was nothing. Tiger knew how it felt when things were there that shouldn't be, and this wasn't the time.

The inevitable fight with her mother had happened, not five minutes after returning to their home. It began over something stupid - Tiger leaving her shoes by the door to let them dry.

It had quickly turned into a typical Grace Howell shouting match, except this time, Tiger wasn't in the mood. She picked up the bag she had left, and put on the same wet shoes and left, her mother's shouts behind her.

The walk back to the village was only ten or so minutes, and when she got there, sitting on the curb, not caring about the snow, Tiger had pulled her wand out of her bag and held it out into the road.

The Knight Bus had appeared within seconds, a tall, bright purple metal structure which seemed to concerningly lean too much towards the right side. Reading the address off of the letter which she never ended up sending to James, Tiger sat down on one of the chairs, and offered the driver one of the butterscotches from the plastic container that her Auntie Hope had given her.

Upon the candy being kindly refused, Tiger, using her rails that lined the middle of the bus to swing her way back to her seat, tucking away the sweets.

She was trying to make the best of the situation, she really was. But there was something about leaving home with only a small bag and her Hogwarts case that felt inherently wrong.

Tiger was unaware of whether she would be able to return home, if that was to be during the Christmas holidays or later on. But all the same, she felt the twinge of guilt as she thought of her father and Tilly.

Neither of them deserved it, to be the witness of so many shouting matches between mother and daughter. Yet they were, which was just unfair.

"At least they won't see that now." Tiger murmured to herself, trying to expell that oh-so-achy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "It'll be peaceful for them."

She also tried hard to forget that she was seemingly the only person on the bus, and when the man who had pulled her trunk onto the bus offered her a free complimetary hot chocolate ( which Tiger knew was something that usually came with a price ), it felt just a tiny bit worse.

𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗹𝘆, james potterWhere stories live. Discover now