chocolate » marauder era [r.lupin]

4 ☽ potions.

Dedicating this chapter to the wonderful ArtyGirl02 thanks for your lovely comments and votes! And a special thank you to everyone else, your support makes my heart swell! X

      ⌁ h4ppie

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t h r e e
— potions

September 3rd, 1975

Florence walked down the crisp white halls of her mother and fathers high end mansion. The  stained mahogany floorboards crying out under the weight of her steps. Her fingers glided across the handrail of the cascading stairs which she used to have trouble climbing.

"What are you doing here vermin!"

Her mother's voice snapped her out of her trancelike state.

Florence's eyes widened fearful of what was to happen. She backed away,

   *slap*

Florence fell backward, her face stung and a faint red hand print could be seen developing across her cheek. A single tear fell freely down her tingling cheek.

   "I'm sorry mother– please I'm sorry!"

   "Get out, get out!" Her mother roared "I told you to never come back, never!"

The words echoed through Florence, her small frame shaking and her eyes glassy.

   "Please," she said barely above a whisper, "I can try and keep it in, I'll try to make it go away."

   "It still wouldn't change what you are."

*

   Waking up gasping Florence found her hair and face wet with tears. The nightmares hadn't left her, creeping back each night they engulfed her in terror and woke her breathless.

Crawling out of the duvet, she ignored the chill as she walked across stone floor to the attached bathroom. That was one of the only problems she had with living in the castle, it was blood cold consistently.

The mirror reflected her red eyes contrasting against a face of porcelain. Fifteen yet her eyes appeared so aged.

She was drenched in sweat, her night gown sticking to her figure. Although it were just a dream, it felt so real, like she were eleven again.
It's not real Florence, just a dream, she reassured herself. But deep down Florence new it was once reality.

  Florence recalls when it reached Christmas holidays for the first few two years, and how for some naïve reason she would be hopeful her mother would ask her home. Stupid.

Showering before dressing in her robes Florence raced out of the Gryffindor common room and down the wide corridors.

She found herself on the open Hogwarts grounds, the green grass shivering in the wind and the sun just rising from behind the black lake. A plethora of colours pooled across the water and stained the sky.

She couldn't help but sigh in content, the cool morning breeze made her rosy cheeks warm. Looking down the hill she spotted the familiar unstable hut. It appeared as though it would collapse at any moment, the bricks unevenly stacked and a crooked chimney balanced on the cone shaped roof, from which smoke freely escaped.

A grin found its way onto her face and she raced down the hill, careful not to trip on the gravel pathway. She was going to visit Hagrid.

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