𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 51

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH THEY ARRIVE AT
THEIR DESTINATION

. . .

Harry was rather embarassed to admit that he had never been to a beach before. He had never smelt salt in the air, never felt sand beneath his feet and the only time he had ever seen the ocean was when Uncle Vernon dragged him out to a rock in a storm in an attempt to escape his Hogwarts letter.

But yet here he was, on his fifteenth birthday, stood at the bottom of an incredible steep hill, facing the ocean as seagulls squaked above him. There was an stretch of sand leading down to the slowly rolling waves, which were such a contrast to the dark, crashing ones that battered the hut he was forced to stay in, just over four years since Hagrid rescued him and gave him his first ever cake.

He had deemed that birthday his best so far, simply because he spent it wandering around Diagon Alley and getting his very first taste of the Wizarding World and learning about his parents, something he had never got a chance to before.

But that seemed to be easily outdone by whatever Jane had planned for him, who was doing it just in order to celebrate his birthday. There was nothing else that needed to be done, it was just time to relax and have fun.

"Wow." Jane pushed herself up out of the car beside him, hand brushing against the side. 

Harry turned to her. "Is this you first time seeing the sea as well?" He was almost hopeful that he wasn't only one experiencing this for the first time - that made it a little less embarassing.

"I've been once, apparently." Jane's answer confused him, but he had to wait just a moment to get an explanation; Flora had opened up the car boot and Jane was busy pulling out the wicker picnic basket. "With my second fa.. placement." 

Harry watched as her neck bobbed, swallowing her mistake - she had been about to say 'family' and since he first found out about the two previous times she had been fostered before Flora, and it seemed he wasn't the only one she was talking to about it; Angela nodded approvingly at her choice of words. It was less harmful that way, and Harry agreed with it - the temporary people she stayed with were not her family. 

"You don't remember it?" Flora helped her lift the basket out over the small ridge and it hit Jane's bare knees as it was freed from the boot. The woman began directing them away from the car, down a small slope and through the gap between picket fences and around the back of the sea-front café.

"No. I was too young, I guess. I have one memory of finding a crab in a rockpool, but that's it." She shrugged, Harry following behind and catching up to her, holding out a hand. "It's your birthday, silly."

"That doesn't mean I can't help." Harry replied, despite proclaiming the visit to the beach a time for him to relax, felt oddly guilty about not doing anything. 

"We're here now." Jane nudged his thigh with the picnic basket before placing it down on the small wooden table beside an abundance of flower and herb beds raised up from the ground. 

"I'm glad to see Orson's kept up his herbology interests." Harry's eyes shot over to where Angela was crouching by one of the planters; it was the first time anything magical had been mentioned around Jane, who looked confused. But she seemed to just accept it as another word for botany. 

"Yes, it would be a shame if he hadn't. I believe he owns that café alongside his neice or nephew." Flora smiled, reaching for the door and lifting the knocker. Like Flora's, it was in the shape of a phoenix, and Harry was beginning to wonder if the sightings of the magical bird were just a coincidence or actually meant something. 

The door swung open seconds later, a man wearing a top hat, plaid waistcoat, red bow tie and a monocle appeared. His eyes landed on the two teenagers and something rather loud clattered against the floor somewhere within his home. 

Harry suspected it was something suspended by magic. "Florence, so lovely to see you!" Orson Diggle burst out with moments later, as both Harry and Jane peered past to try and locate the noise. "Just my cat.. bit jumpy." The man waved his hand dismissively and turned to Angela to offer her a similar welcoming. 

"And who must these be?" From the looks of things, Mr Diggle knew exactly who Harry was, but had clearly been told by Florence that Jane had no idea what hid behind their appearances. 

"This is my daughter Jane, and her friend Harry." Flora introduced, and Orson stood forward.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you." He grasped Harry's hand with such ferosity that he feared it would drop off, and the Potter boy generally got the feeling that there was a lot unsaid there - upon meeting him for the first time, many witches and wizards had expressed their gratitude, his mind drifting back to around this time four years ago, when he first stepped foot in the Leaky Cauldron. 

Quirrel's face rose into mind, their very first meeting having been there and Harry shivered as he retracted his thoroughly shook arm. Mr Diggle shook Jane's hand just as hard, trying to give them impression.

"Well, you two." Flora turned to the teenagers. "Angela, Orson and I have a lot to catch up on. Why don't we meet back here around.. half four? That should give you plenty of time. And don't go too far, okay?"

"You've got that money I gave you just in case?" Angela appeared by the woman, and both Jane and Harry were hit by a motherly kindness that they hadn't seen too much from her. 

"Yep, it's in there somewhere." Jane nodded, gesturing over to the picnic basket. "We'll see you later."

Out of the corner of their eyes, just as the teenagers turned around, they saw Angela take Flora's hand and pull her inside, the door closing slowly, as if it moved by itself.

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a/n
history would say that
angela and florence were
good friends if you get 
what im saying