The Hope Of It All | Harry Potter

CHP 2 : THE SMELL OF SMOKE

  To say I was still processing it all would be an understatement, but as I rang the bell home I found myself worried less about unimaginable dangers and relieved more to hear dad's loud footsteps.

"Where have you been?" he said quickly, standing with his bunny slippers and blue robe, blocking my way inside, "I was bloody worried Toms- you were with your friends- right? - That Tiffany girl- always knew she was more trouble than it's worth-"

That was dad for you. I never had to explain anything, he usually jumped to his own conclusions. This time I was glad. Instead of arguing I simply moved forward and hugged him, careful not spill his, no doubt, cold coffee. The smell of paint and oils was so familiar- so homely. And Dumbledore wanted me to give up this?

"M' sorry dad," I murmured tiredly into his shirt," I-I just needed some time."

Sighing he held me closer, "It's all good Toms. It's all good."

I was surprised nothing changed. The rooms still looked the same, the stairs still creaked, the cup mom used just before was still half full. I guess I expected the house to adapt- to show somehow that one member of the family was forever gone. Bentley waited for me on my bed, wiggling his tail and breathing heavily. He was a beautiful Labrador dad and I found one day when he picked me up from school. He really was the brother I never had, plus he was absolutely massive. I remember being surprised mom agreed to our pleas to keep him, but then again she did always have a soft spot for dogs.

"Good boy Bentley," I started rubbing his head," Such a good boy"

My room was as tidy as ever, quite boring really. I preferred simplicity and most of my furniture was white. It felt empty and dusty but I never did anything to change that. The only thing remotely colorful inside was the mural mom and dad painted just above my bed. Mom wasn't a gifted painter and of course I inherited that from her. It was the only painting in the house she was a part of. It was the night sky with one star constellation- I think it was the Hunter, Orion was it?

Plopping into my bed I freed my long black hair from the messy braid I wore to the funeral, the familiar blackness of sleep slowly marching towards me- and I greeted it as an old friend, wizards and promises long forgotten.

The next days were spent lazily. I mostly played with Bentley outside, his gold fur flickering in the sunlight, as dad painted away his sorrow upstairs in his workshop. My friends came to visit- Tiffany and Mark -and dad was right, they were bad influence. We spent most of the time hidden in a spot I knew was sheltered from the windows of the house, passing cigarettes and jokes. Mark was older than me and Tiff but he had no plans for his future, in fact he had never had a solid plan is his life. He wasn't 'that kind of guy'- he was the 'go with the flow, smoke with fifteen year olds, sleep with twenty year olds kind of guy'. Tiff was the one with the plans. Her father was rich and she was sure to get into the best college money could buy. It was too bad she was wasting away more and more each day.

The only reason I was still friends with them was because I never knew anything different. Tiff and I sat at the same table together since grade one, and really I didn't have a line of people waiting to take her place. Mark was the one to sell us cigarettes when we were thirteen and didn't know which markets didn't check for I.D's.

"You lady's chose which subjects you gon' study next year?" Mark said with his chill voice.

"Theater." Tiff answered, the smoke floating around her curled blond hair.

"Physics and Biology." I replied shyly. My excellence at school was always a touchy subject.

"Nerd," the boy drawled, "bu' then again daddy can't pay Harvar' to enroll you."

Tiff rolled her eyes," Shut it pervert"

"Pass me some" I pointed at his pack, used to their bickering.

"Ohh who that, riskin' smelling like fuckn' chimney"

"Tiff's right- you are a pervert" I marveled at their laughter, and for some reason I had this feeling it would be the last time I could sit like that- like a normal teenager.

I woke up so suddenly I could have thought I was still dreaming. There were loud noises coming from downstairs, but I couldn't make out what they were. Slowly, full of adrenaline, I walked through the door and crouched just before the first stair, trying to hear something.

"I don't know who you are talking about!" that was dad, his voice urgent and full of fear.

"We saw her entering the house," the deep voice threatened, "we won't wait much longer."

I froze. It was him. The masked men- a Death Eater.

"I beg of you, please, you got the wrong house," There a loud bang as the vase in the living room fell over.

"Dad no," I whispered, hypnotized by the scene.

"You should know, The Dark Lord doesn't take no as an answer."

"Run Dad, run"

"But that is the only answer I have!"

"CRUCIO!" Dad's screams were the worst sound I have I ever heard. They were full of pain and agony, I didn't even notice tears running down my face.

"WHERE IS SHE" the men screamed as dad breathed heavily.

I heard a whimper coming from Bentley as he, no doubt, came to save dad from the pain. "I don't...I don't..." dad's voice was so weak I felt myself rise up and move down the stairs.

The scene was awful. The living room was trashed, the coffee table was tossed aside, water from the vase was darkening the wooden floor. Dad was laying on his side with his blue robe, one of his slippers missing, as Bentley stood right in front of him, ever the protector. The masked men was next to the couch his wand pointed and rage clear.

"LEAVE HIM" I yelled.

"No no Toms you have to... you have to..." dad looked at me desperately but unable to move.

"Tom? You are Tom?" Was that triumph in his voice? "Well that makes my job much easier"

"Why?" He speared me no answer as he moved to grab me, but before he could Bentley jumped and bit his arm.

"AHHH YOU STUPID DOG" he yelled, losing his cool for the first time, "AVADA KEDABRA"

I watched the green light hit my good boy, and he fell to the floor frozen. "Bentley" I whispered. I heard nothing as grief took over. I lost my brother. My companion.

As I fell to the floor next to dad I felt a wave of energy burst from my body and destroy everything near me- the paintings dad worked so hard on, mom's piano, our photo albums, the furniture- it speared nothing. Faintly I heard a scream as the men flew back from the impact. I didn't care. I was stuck in my bubble with my little broken family as my house blew up around us.