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THE PAVEMENT WAS the hottest it had been all summer, and Willow knew it after spending every day sitting in the same spot in front of her house. She was sometimes either reading or writing, but most of the time just sitting, much like this particular day. August31st.
She would go back to school tomorrow, and her endless summer would finally slam on the brakes. Willow loved the summer, but hated spending it at home, with nothing to keep her entertained. She couldn't bother Conrad to play exploding snap with her out in the street anymore.
"I need to focus on my studies, Willow," he would say as if she had just asked him to run away with her or something, so she'd storm out of his room with Mistoffolees cradled in her arms like a baby. That was two years ago, she'd stopped trying now.
Exhaling loudly, she stretches out her legs, staring down at her dirty white shoes. She really wanted new ones, but hated asking her parents for things. Her mother would tell her that the shoes she has are perfectly fine as long as they still fit, and her father would simply laugh. He did that a lot when she tried to speak to him nowadays. Hell, even her school supplies wasn't bought brand new anymore, it was all Conrad's hand-me-downs.
Eventually Willow hears footsteps walking towards her, and she expects it to be their neighbor, Charlotte, to tell her she should go inside before she got sunstroke. All their neighbors were somehow involved in the magical world, whether they were squibs or actually went to Hogwarts themselves years ago. Charlotte was a lovely old woman who was also very sensitive when it came to the sun.
But it wasn't Charlotte, it was Conrad, and he had a cup of their mother's lemonade with him. "Hey, lonely."
"What do you want?" Willow doesn't look at him, but takes the cup as he sits down next to her.
"Mom made her world class lemonade, and you've spent practically every day by yourself out here. I thought you needed some human interaction before you embarrass yourself tomorrow," Conrad says, and Willow takes a long drink from the cup. She didn't even realize how dry her throat was until now, and the citrus practically burned her esophagus.
"I'm not going to embarrass myself," Willow says, her voice flat. "I'm just going to work my way up to having an actual conversation."
"Well, this is your start," Conrad sighs, and he takes the now empty cup from Willow's hand and places it next to him. "Fourth year, how do you feel?"
"I feel like I should be asking you that question. This is your last year. Then you're leaving for good," Willow says, finally looking at her brother. "Thank god."
