As we pulled up to the building, its familiar facade felt both comforting and strange, as if I'd been away for years rather than just nine months. Jeremy began unloading my bags from the car, and I stood there, lost in thought, until he called out for help.
"I could use a bit of help," he groaned, and I snapped out of my reverie. Taking my cat from him, I said, "You're welcome," and waited for him to start walking. "Yeah, right, thanks," he replied, starting to drag the bags toward the building.
When we entered, we were greeted by Jeffery, the doorman, who greeted me warmly. "Oh, Miss Brown, how lovely it is to see you!" he said, assisting Jeremy with the bags. "How was studying in Sweden?" he asked, which took me a moment to understand. The lie Jeremy had crafted about studying abroad had slipped my mind.
"Thanks, Jeffery. It was good but I missed it here," I said, smiling. Jeffery's face was creased with the same warm wrinkles, his kindness evident as he added, "We've missed you and Caspar too."
We took the elevator up to the 6th floor, where our apartment was located. The place was a constant in my life, a backdrop to my growing years. I lived there with Jeremy, as our mother had long since disappeared from the picture. Memories of Miss Jackson, who had looked after me when Jeremy went to Hogwarts and then to America, filled the space my mother's absence left behind.
At the apartment door, Jeremy fumbled for the keys. I watched him in exasperation. "Ugh! I really wonder how the Ministry trusts you with all these business dealings when you can't even find a bloody key," I said, teasing him.
He shot me a glare but kept searching. "You're not at Hogwarts anymore. I could not make you dinner," he shot back.
I laughed loudly, mocking him. "Yeah, right! Who cooked you dinner before?" I said, continuing to tease him as he finally pulled the keys out and unlocked the door.
As the door swung open, the familiar scent of our apartment greeted us, and I felt a mix of relief and nostalgia. The little quirks of home were comforting after the whirlwind of the past year.
As I stood there, savoring the comfort of home, the door across the hallway suddenly swung open. A girl with striking hazel eyes and dark black hair appeared, leaning casually against the door frame. Her presence was immediately familiar, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Sweden," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I grinned back at her, "Hello, Twizzle! Missed me?"
Before she could respond, she bounded over and wrapped me in a tight hug. "I missed you so much, you have no idea how the past nine months have been for me," she said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in my shoulder. I hugged her back just as fiercely, feeling a wave of warmth and nostalgia.
We stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes, catching up silently with just the embrace. The door behind her opened again, and I heard a familiar voice. "Don't you ever put a shirt on?" I called out, laughing as I saw Shaun, Taylor's older brother, emerge from the flat. He was dressed in his usual casual attire, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Shut up, you miss me," Shaun retorted, pulling me into a hug. Shaun was just a bit younger than Jeremy, and his easy-going nature always made him fun to be around.
"Yeah, I do," I replied, standing next to him as we all exchanged smiles. Taylor and Shaun stared at me expectantly, and I knew they were eager to hear about my year.
"How's Sweden?" they both asked in unison.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt for lying. "It was great," I said, forcing a smile. "And I may have gotten a Scottish boyfriend."
Taylor smacked my arm playfully. "Shut up," she said, though her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Scottish in Sweden?" Shaun asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged nonchalantly. "I told you it's a mixed school," Taylor interjected, rolling her eyes.
"You know, you should come over tonight, and I'll tell you all about it," I said. "Where's Miss Jackson by the way? I missed her."
At the mention of Miss Jackson, Taylor's expression softened, and she stepped aside, allowing her to step out from behind the door. Miss Jackson's eyes widened with emotion as she saw me, and she quickly closed the distance, wrapping me in a tender hug. "Oh, my little girl," she said, her voice choked with tears. She gently brushed my hair as I hugged her back, feeling a few tears of my own slip down my cheeks.
"I missed you," I whispered, the emotional weight of the past year suddenly hitting me.
"You must be very hungry," Miss Jackson said, guiding me towards her flat. "Come in and have something to eat."
I smiled gratefully but shook my head. "Thank you, but I'm rather tired. I need a nap. How about you make dinner for me tonight?"
Her face lit up with joy. "Okay, then! It's settled. You're coming over for dinner! Tell Jeremy to come too," she said, her excitement palpable.
I nodded and began heading back to my own flat. "He won't resist it," I laughed, knowing full well that Jeremy would be more than happy to join us for a meal.
With that, I entered my flat, feeling a deep sense of contentment. As I settled in, I reflected on the warmth of being back with the people who cared about me. The apartment, the familiar faces, and the promise of a home-cooked meal all combined to create a perfect welcome back.
The room was filled with the lively chatter and laughter from the dinner table. As I sat enjoying my cake, I couldn't help but think about Oliver and how much I missed him. The joke about the silent "P" in pterodactyl had everyone laughing, and even Miss Jackson chimed in about how she'd love to meet Oliver Wood someday.
I continued to smile, savoring the cake, when Jeremy gave me a reassuring pat on the back. "Bella, let's go to my room," Taylor said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward her room.
Inside her room, we settled on the floor. Taylor had already started some muggle music, and she sat across from me with an eager grin. "So?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
I laughed, unsure where to start. "Is he cute?" she pressed on, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a picture of me and Oliver. I was relieved it wasn't a magical picture, so it stayed still.
"Oh, my god! He's freaking hot!" Taylor exclaimed, her eyes wide. I smacked her arm playfully. "Oi! Taken!" I said, feeling a bit bashful.
"Sorry, sorry," Taylor said with a sheepish grin.
"He plays..." I started, almost slipping and saying "Quidditch" before catching myself. "Soccer," I finished, and Taylor's eyes lit up as she continued to examine the picture.
"You look really happy with him," she said softly. I smiled at the photo, but her next question brought a slight frown to my face. "But?" she asked.
"But what?" I asked, a bit confused.
"There's something worrying you. I know it. What is it?" she pressed gently. I sighed, looking down. "He's three years older than me," I admitted, feeling a lump in my throat. "So what?" Taylor said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, you should know better, Twizzle! Give it a year or two, and he'd start asking for things I can't give him," I said, struggling to keep my emotions in check. Taylor raised her eyebrows. "Oh, stop it. It's not like you don't know what I mean," I added, feeling frustrated.
"Okay, yes, maybe. But if he says he'll wait for you..." Taylor began, but I cut her off.
"Come on, Taylor, no guy ever says that. And besides, he'll be out of school when I'm still in 5th year," I said, my voice tinged with worry.
Taylor sighed and then laughed. "Well, enjoy the best of it then," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry about it and get up and dance with me," she said, turning the volume up on the music.
I couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. Despite my concerns, Taylor's energy was infectious. I stood up, took her hand, and joined her in dancing. For a moment, I let go of my worries and just enjoyed the moment with my friend.
