The Little Tree: Harry Potter

ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ

       Thermont, England was a quiet, forgettable town that sat West of country-side England, being hidden and harbored by a large section of trees. The town was small, only holding a population of 2,000 people in its neighborhood. And it was quiet; no one within a 50 mile radius being able to recall Thermont or the people who lived inside of it. Nothing has happened there. Not ever since the town had gotten a name and people found themselves residing there. The air was clean. The grass grew evenly. No harm had ever been brought into the fields of Thermont, England.

         Edith Wrightly was sitting on an old cracked porch step as she looked across the growing blue skies. The once darkened clouds, that promised rain, merely missed the small town as it made its way to the forest of trees and overgrowth just a few miles down. The moisture in the air was heavy, still feeling the threatened affects of the missed storm. But it wasn't enough to make the outside feel gross — no — Edith was still comfortable in her position. Despite the internal effects she'd been tasked with.

        With the smallest readjustment in her posture, Edith had felt another, more forceful, kick in her stomach. This one being slightly higher than the one she felt a few minutes prior. Her hand instinctively roamed over the hit area, and she gently rubbed her thumb over her fabric'd skin, thinking that it would help.

"𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵" Her voice remained gentle. "𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

       She had said that before. Twice. Maybe another time previously. The promise of her words seemed to dwindle each time it came from her mouth — but that never seemed to stop her from repeating it. The words were always directed to her stomach. To the little girl she had yet to meet. But in reality, she was saying it mostly to herself. That each kick was a telling tale that it was time. That each hardened cramp was urging her to go to the hospital, to let others help in her delivery. But each time was a false alarm. And with it hitting almost two weeks past her expected date, her worry was starting to show on her face.

"Let's go for a walk"

         Only half of her sentence was truly heard before she had grabbed the wooden railing to aid her up. The pressure of her stomach was making it harder to do her once everyday-tasks. Though, she would never admit it. And with the lack of people in her home, it seemed she simply 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 to admit her daily struggles to anyone.

        A puff of air escaped her dry lips as her padded slippers hit the gravel that guarded her rundown porch. Just another step out was where the grass would start. It was much longer than what it would typically be — the wind causing it to hit right above her exposed ankle. Edith rubbed her foot against the skin, ridding the itchy sensation it had given her for a moment.

       She had taken another step forward, smashing a patch of grass into the dirt. Her slipper had already taken hit with a soft green stain — and it was soon being followed by dirt patches as she kept her pace steady.

The wind directed her forward, helping her find a path in her walk. The woman didn't necessarily know where she was headed, but she was okay with the idea of wandering. She had explored the town many times but never ventured outside of the walls of it. Nor did she ever follow the side paths that some of the towns people had created over the years. She didn't trust it — being outside of the watchful eye. Not that she believed there to be danger in the area she had only ever called home, but once she stepped over—away from everyone she grew up with, she could only assume the worst.

She stopped her movements.

Her eyes stayed forward, staring into the area she had only seen from the safety of her kitchen window. She had never been so close before. She had never been so 𝘧𝘢𝘳 before. Edith turned herself, looking back to where she once was. If she held her hand up, her house appeared to be the same size as her thumb, the distance only playing tricks.

Ediths' lips tightened into a straight line as she turned back towards the wooded area. It was somehow darker than what she had realized. The branches had provided much shade to the busy field. And the storm had timely started once it had seemingly reached the area. She could only squint to make out the outlines of trees that stood just a few feet further than the others.

Edith moved her foot move back, away from the area she had never become accustomed to. It seemed like the only right answer in that moment. But the wind pushed her back up. Treating her as if she was a puppet on a wire.

Her foot fell forward.

Edith mumbled a curse to herself as her slipper splashed into a small puddle — causing what she could only assume to be mud to stain her exposed skin. Bending forward, she went to wipe away the dirty water from her leg, not wanting the mud to dry against it. But the movement had only caused her pain. And she found herself tripping into the storm as another abrupt hit from her stomach caused her to lose her balance.

With her knees being caught by the patches of ruined grass, the rain had invited her in as soon as she entered its hold. The thick droplets of water seemed to fall faster as it soaked up her clothes. And it seemed to only hold her down as she tried to stand, the pain in her stomach worsening. Another kick. Her skin raced with goosebumps.

Edith tempted to look forward, to find any sort of shelter or cover under the trees. But her sight had already been stolen from the rain, merely giving her a fuzzy outlook of what she was near.

Her hand dug forward, grasping what felt like leaves and mud into her palm, and she drug her body forward. A whimper escaped her lips as she felt her body being pulled through the sharp and soft flooring. Losing her sense of sight only made her feel it more. All of the pain. Edith was wishing for it to all go away.

She repeated those actions.

One hand after the other — she had no idea how far she had gone. It was all dark to her, even the outlining of the trees becoming more shy the further she went in. Water had sprinkled down her face, staining her cheeks with damp smudges. Edith sputtered out an exhausted cough as her stomach grew more irritated with her actions.

'Not now.' Repeated. 'Please. Anytime but now.'

If anyone was to listen, to understand her internal pleas, she would hope today was the day. She took everything back she'd said in the past two weeks. Not now. It could not be now.

Edith bit back her lip, stopping the tremble as she went to dig her hand into the next open area. But as it connected with something hard — her teeth had dug into her lower lip, causing a sight of crimson to peek through.

Her hand throbbed as she pulled it back to her chest. And she blinked away as much water as she could before peering forward. The sight was barely anything at first, but as she brought her mud-covered hand to rub her eye — she was quick to see what she had run into.

A tree.

Though smaller than the rest, it was the only one that seemed to have the ability to hide its branches from the aggressive rain — camouflaging itself under its much larger neighbors. The water still trickled. Ever so slightly. But it was no longer enough to be considered anything more than a sprinkle.

Edith kept her pained hand against her chest as she did her best to push herself up. Another soft cry had escaped her as she could only get herself in a sitting position. But it was all she needed before giving up on her weakened body. Her head leaned back, no longer being able to hold itself up, and she felt as it hit the bark of the tree — tangling itself in her hair. Her breaths were ragged, but slowing by the minute. And the pain subsided, briefly, before revealing itself once more. Poking her as if she was a sleeping bear. Edith understood it's subtle hint. Though, a part of her wishes she hadn't.

"𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

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