Grow As We Go

Low Flying Angels

The summer had been a slow and dark one. Though the sun shone brightly on Brighton and children played effortlessly in the waves that lapped against the beach, the Fletcher house had been sombre. The loss of Cedric Diggory left the twins in a twist. One had been his best friend and the other had been desperately in love with him. No matter how much the youngest child had tried to bring the sun to them through plants and sunscreen, it didn't seem to work. She was a fixer, always trying to help with other's problems and sadness with sunshine and happiness. So when she couldn't crack them, she took herself away. The young girl didn't mind, she enjoyed the alone time that was rare growing up with 4 older siblings.

Acacia woke up that day the same way she had the last 5 years, tired and objectionable. Today, the book list for school would come and she and her sisters would go down to the stores to shop. She dragged herself out of bed and wandered downstairs, following the scent of bacon and pancakes, the classic last meal at the Fletchers. The next morning they would be up bright and early for the Knight Bus to take to London, then the train to school.

"Letters came." Mrs. Fletcher said and gestured to the three envelopes on the table.

Acacia sat at the table and pulled hers from the bottom of the pile while her two sisters, Hazel and Juniper grabbed theirs and took a seat.

"Basic stuff." Hazel said plainly as she read her list.

"Note from Sprout about Career Counselling on the first Saturday back." Juniper added.

"What about you Case?" Hazel asked, using one of the few young girl's nicknames.

"Same." Acacia said plainly as she unfolded her letter and a small pin dropped from the envelope.

"Acacia got prefect!" Juniper exclaimed and smiled, one of the few she'd shown during the summer.

"You absolute Niffler, you're replacing me!" Hazel joked and stood from her chair to wrap her sister in a hug.

"I'll have to write to your Father and let him know, he'll be so proud!" Mrs. Fletcher said happily as she set the food down on the table.

Mr. Fletcher was a Muggle and worked in the government, mostly dealing with relations with the Irish. He was away often, much to the dismay of his family. But when he was around, he was a great dad who loved his magical family deeply. Mrs. Fletcher was from a long line of squibs, so when their children started showing signs of having magical abilities was a joy to the family. They always pushed their children to excel, which led to all of them to be prefects, save Juniper who preferred Quidditch.

Her mom and sisters fussed over the small girl the rest of breakfast, her mom going on about her older brothers both being prefects as well and Hazel sharing stories of her year as prefect. She avoided the stories that involved Cedric but still spoke about it with vigour. A small part of Acacia felt proud that she was selected as prefect, knowing it'll look good on her application to St. Mungos upon her graduation, but the overwhelming sense of dread about the responsibilities that come along with it put a damper on that joy.

She escaped up to her room as soon as she was done eating, getting ready for the day. She tossed on a simple red sundress and some yellow robes over that she had gotten from her friend last Christmas. She simply brushed out her hair and called it a day, heading downstairs to meet her sisters. They used the Floo Network to go to Diagonal Alley and arrived immersed in the busy street. Acacia had planned to meet her friend outside Flourish and Botta so she quickly separated from the tall twins and went to meet her.

Isadora Barclay was the best friend anyone could've wished for. The two had met in History of Magic first year and bonded over their mutual love for Hogwarts: A History. Isadora was a Slytherin, and true to it. She came from a line of purebloods and was cousins to Blaise Zabini, one of Draco Malfoy's cronies. She was ambitious, headstrong and rebellious from her family's ancient views. She would blast Spice Girls on repeat at any given chance and dabbled in cigarettes.