Love Potion #9-3/4

A Change of Heart

Phil and Heather sat by the fire, engrossed in a high-stakes game of wizard's chess. I myself had bet four sickles on Phil, and as I sat on a nearby armchair sipping pumpkin juice I swore under my breath with every new point Heather scored. She was winning. By a longshot.

But my attention wasn't truly on the match. I had formed a plan and was waiting anxiously for my moment.

"Do any of you know where Dan is?" Mrs. Lester called from behind her copy of the Daily Prophet. "I haven't seen him since supper."

"I think he went to bed early," Heather replied, capturing Phil's last bishop in the process. Phil groaned as his piece was destroyed, and with a glance at the board I could only see pawns left on his side. I silently mourned my sickles.

"Well, if you see him tomorrow morning, could you ask him to move his things into Phil's room? Martyn will be home in the evening and I'll be running errands all day."

Phil agreed, then turned back to the chess match just in time to watch Heather checkmate him. He put his head in his hands as Heather scooped up the money with a grin. As they cleaned up the chess set, I stared into the fireplace, biding my time. The night seemed to be winding down. It wouldn't be long now.

Heather and Phil both headed upstairs to get ready for bed, while Mrs. Lester stayed in the corner reading her paper. The seconds seemed to stretch on for days, as my patience and energy grew equally thin. At long last, Mrs. Lester folded up her newpaper and placed it on an end table.

"You should get to bed soon, Love," she said to me as she stood. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve mind you."

I nodded gratefully and bid her goodnight. Silence stretched into the room like an endless medium replacing the air. After maybe an hour, I decided the coast was clear. Wand at the ready, I stepped into the winter night, eyes shifting around the surrounding forest.

"Lumos," I whispered, and the tip of my wand lit up. I crept slowly into the woods, simultaneously alert and full of excitement. I clutched the bag I kept at my hip, filled with glass jars that clinked with each step I took.

After a few minutes of wandering, I finally spotted what I had been searching for. A little grey moth came fluttering towards the light of my wand. Another came into view not long after, followed by a furry brown one. My collection began to build. Once I felt that I had gathered enough, I took a jar out of the bag and placed the tip of the wand inside. The moths obeyed my wishes, flying unwittingly into their enclosure.

"Lumos," I whispered once more, and then I sealed off the jar.

I studied the moths I had just gathered under the light of the moon. There was a decent variety, and with one or two more jars I should have enough. I grew more excited picturing my plan unfold and the look that would be on Howell's priceless face.

But did he deserve it? Was I letting Phil down? My grin dropped as I thought of his disappointment. Surely Mrs. Lester would be unhappy with me too. They were the only family I had ever truly known, and I couldn't bear their disapproval.

I remembered a similar look of rejection on my own mother's face. I imagined my dad in an American hospital bed, so far from his own home. His sallow, greying skin. I always regretted not seeing him one last time. I dropped to my knees as I played the funeral over in my head.

"Maybe you would be better off going to that school in England your father always talked about," my mom had suggested the moment she had finally gotten me alone. "I just think it would be easier. For both of us." She wouldn't look me in the eye.

I caught a dark blurry figure shifting in my peripheral vision and looked up, gasping.

Dementors.

A whole hoard had surrounded me before I had even noticed, and the suffocating hopelessness they brought was too strong now to even move. I lay helplessly down on the forest floor, giving in. It didn't matter at this point. I felt my consciousness begin to slip away.