magnolia ~ h. potter

thirty-four

[CHAPTER 34]

 NUMBER 2, GLOVER'S END

[  I should have saved you  ]

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THEY APPARATED INTO HOGSMEADE with a crack that echoed through the little village' deserted streets. The moment her feet made contact with the cobblestoned street, Emily heard a loud wailing cat's screech accompanied by a clatter as her knees buckled. Apparating them practically across the country had been exhausting, but she had little time to recuperate as lights flickered on in several houses to investigate the commotion outside. The girls had startled a black house cat sitting on the porch of Madame Puddifoot's teashop, and it had knocked over a decorative teacup that had been standing by the door.

"We have to go," Violetta said urgently, wrapping Emily's arm around her shoulder to support her, "Nobody else can know we're here,"

"This way," Emily panted, leading them along the main road. They stopped at a side street to the left of the post office and a tall, 3 storey house with an empty, baby blue painted shop window that had been boarded up. They sidled into the street, stopping in front of a large, mahogany door off which the pale-yellow paint was peeling. A lion shaped, brass doorknocker hung in the middle, and Emily lifted it and knocked three times. The lion blinked once, lamplike yellow eyes staring at the three girls expectantly.

"Magnolia," Emily whispered, and the lion blinked again, before there was a click and Emily pushed the door open with a creak.

"Lumos," muttered Emily, and a ball of light spread from her wand towards the three lanterns on the wall, casting a dim light into the corridor.

"Looks cosy," Kate muttered, as they shuffled into the narrow entrance corridor and the heavy mahogany shut behind them with a loud thunk. There was a doorway to the left, and a small, wooden spiral staircase to the right.

"That leads to the shop," Emily panted, looking at the door, "The rest is upstairs,"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE," shouted a loud, nasally voice, and Kate was so startled she dropped her wand. There was a chuckle to their left, and Emily glared at the painting on the wall. In it sat a wrinkled woman with white, cotton candy hair, sitting in an old mottled pink armchair and a silver-toned maine coon cat in her lap.

"None of that, Mrs. Pickett," scolded Emily, and the lady let out a half-cackle, half-giggle.

"Scared the daylights out of ya, din' I?" she said maliciously, "These your housemates, lovey? Bit peaky if you ask me,"

"Nobody did ask you," Kate grumbled, and the woman glowered at her.

"Ooh, this one's smart, ain't she?" Mrs. Pickett said, "You better watch your tone when you're in my house, lovey, I don't like rude house guests,"

"Augusta Pickett," Emily said with a sigh, "Previous homeowner until she died falling down the stairs having tripped over her cat,"

Mrs. Pickett went red in the face.

"That's n-not how it happened!" she spluttered furiously, but Emily rolled her eyes, pointed her wand at the woman and said, 'Immobulus'

At once the woman in the picture stopped moving, mouth half open and eyes furiously staring at the three girls. With another wave of Emily's wand, a small green curtain at the top of the frame unfurled itself to cover the frame.