Dittany and Hydrangea

Arrangements

There's always a very unique atmosphere at Hogwarts during the weeks before summer break. Maybe it's the same at every school in the country, but it's not just the students who are either celebrating finishing their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s, it's also the castle grounds flourishing with life and greenery, and even the house ghosts and paintings seem jollier than usual.

The great hall is flooding with rays of the morning sun, as well as students who are gathering to enjoy breakfast before the first class. The relaxed chatter and the sounds of feet on the stone floor create a familiar buzz that slightly fades as the tables suddenly fill with delicious breakfast foods.

Before anyone has the chance to grab their cutlery, the gentle buzz is replaced by loud screeches and flapping wings which can only mean one thing; the mail is here.

A small but old-looking owl lands right in front of you and drops a simple envelope on your still-empty plate. You weren't expecting any letters from anyone but then you glimpse at the handwriting on the envelope.

You sigh before even opening the letter. Already knowing who it's from and what it will contain. The owl who delivered your letter squeaks as your fingers touch the coarse paper before taking off together with the other owls that landed on the table.

You rip open the plain wax seal unceremoniously, tossing the envelope to the side before unfolding the letter, and sure enough the writing belongs to exactly who you predicted. Your mother.

You skim through the first few paragraphs, not wanting to prolong the disappointment with the unnecessary cold talk and usual polite questions such as How is everything at school? and Are you eating well?

As your eyes reach a paragraph that begins with Unfortunately you stop, close your eyes, and take a moment to prepare yourself. It's almost humorous how after all these years you still manage to find a slither of hope when you know you'll be let down every single time. And today is no different. A roar of laughter from a few students further down the table causes you to open your eyes, and you begin to read.

Unfortunately, this means that I cannot return to England quite yet. I'm sorry. I'm sure you understand what a privilege it is to be here and help the Curupiras establish themselves in the Amazon forest and it would be foolish to leave now as we're making such progress. My documentation of this event might be my greatest achievement and...

You skip ahead again. Knowing your mother, she will ramble on about her life's greatest achievements as a zoologist for longer than you are prepared to read.

... therefore I have arranged other plans as I don't want you living on your own all summer. As you may remember from when you were younger, I used to arrange book clubs at our place, and the lovely lady, Augusta Longbottom, would attend every single one of them, sometimes bringing her grandson who I believe is your fellow schoolmate. If my memory serves me right, his name is Neville.

Mrs Longbottom has generously agreed to house you this summer at their home in Washford. She told me it's a quaint village which I'm positive you'll love. Make sure to show your appreciation and contribute to their household chores. Augusta is getting older and I've told her about your talents in the kitchen...

The rest of the letter is just your mother trying to convince you how this will be a great summer and another haste apology for completely ruining your plans as well as the possibility of experiencing what it's like to live with your parent like a normal person for just a few months since the age of 10. Well, that's not quite how your mother worded it, but that's the truth. And how you feel.

"You look like you lost your last galleon", your closest friend Emma says as she tries to meet your gaze with her worried one. "Anything the matter?"

"It's just my mother letting me know that I have to spend the summer with the Longbottoms", you explain and hand her the letter as proof. You watch as her eyes frantically go left and right over the paper, and within seconds she draws a dramatic gasp and slams the letter onto the table.