He Blew Up My Heart

Chapter Two

Part Two

"Rise and shine, Violet, dear! It's time for you to continue your studies."

I could faintly hear the sound of my grandmother's voice, but the only thing I was really concerned with right now was the fact that there was a bright beam of sunlight shining on my face. I knew that Mam had pulled the curtains back on one of my windows, and while there was no way I could be angry with her, it was still irritating to think that I had to get up so early. Then again, I was going back to Hogwarts today, which was more than enough reason for me to get out of bed. With that in mind, I pushed back the thick comforter and swung my legs over the side of the bed, setting my feet on the hardwood floor again.

"Alright, Mam, I'm up," I said groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. And if you're wondering about my accent, no, it's not Irish. I lived with my parents in London when I was little, and because they taught me to speak there, my accent developed as British. Despite this, I picked up quite a few insults in Irish, preferring the way that they sounded in the rougher, more Celtic language.

"Well, I couldn't let you wake up late and miss the train, my chol," she replied, smiling and pulling back the curtains from my smaller, clear window.

Chol. This was actually what my grandmother had called me for years, for as long as I could remember. It was Irish for 'dove,' and it sounded absolutely lovely to me every time she said it.

She left my room a few minutes later to allow me to get ready. I still sat on the white, old-fashioned four-poster bed, looking at certain things in the room. Sitting in front of my dresser was the large trunk that I had already filled with everything I would need, probably for the whole of the term. Next to this was a large, empty cage, which normally held my avian friend, the bird who not only delivered my mail during school but also comforted me when I needed it. Just as my line of vision passed over the cage, I heard a sharp tapping against the large stained-glass window.

Getting up from the bed, I walked over to the window, the wooden floor cold under my feet. It was nearly impossible o see anything through the translucent shapes of color, aside from prominent shadows. But, without hesitation, I unhooked the metal, old-styled latch and pushed the pane open.

Sitting before me on the windowsill was an owl, with feathers mottled with brown and cream. He was a short-eared owl, with bright yellow eyes that were trained on my every movement. Reaching my arm forward, I allowed him to step onto my hand, his long talons curling around my first two fingers. He had never once clawed me in his life, so it didn't bother me to handle him in this way.

"Hello, Gearr," I said, rubbing the side of his head with my free hand. I had named him Gearr because it was the traditional Irish word for "short," which related to his species quite well. Unlike his long-eared cousins, the tufts of feathers that ended up looking like ears were so small on him that they were almost invisible.

He gave a short hoot in response to my words as I stood up from the window seat and crossed the bedroom again. Opening the door to his cage, I said, "You know what today is. So just be good until we get to the castle, alright?" Though I knew he didn't understand a word that I said, I enjoyed speaking to him, because I knew that, like all animals, he wouldn't be able to give away secrets and talk about me behind my back. In this way, I had grown accustomed to talking to him like a close friend.

After I shut the cage and snapped the latch into place, I straightened up, turning to my closet. Nothing too fancy for today, just a set of casual clothes until we got on the train, since I knew that I would be changing into my robes at Hogwarts. A long-sleeved t-shirt, a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, and some matching sneakers, and I was ready for the day.