Little Memories

Charlotte found herself in front of the small, red brick cottage that was perched on the highest cliff in the area. There were no houses around for miles upon miles and it pleased her to know that she wouldn’t have to bother about any neighbors or prying eyes. Severus Snape stood beside her, since he had been the one to meet her just outside the Malfoy Manor and apparate her away to the cottage, and looked over the lonely building in the dim light of the night. The roof was made out of thatched straw and the side of the house that did not face the rushing sea was covered in thick, green ivy. There was a small garden in the back of the house, surrounded by a pale blue picket fence.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe alone, Charlotte?” The older man asked, glancing over at the girl. She merely nodded, eyes remaining on the small house in front of her.

“No one will dare come and find me here,” she said softly over the sound of the crashing sea hundreds of yards beneath the cottage. The air smelled distinctly of salt water and was damp. Professor Snape, cloaked in all black, as usual, merely nodded.

“I’ll have it arranged that someone comes and sees that you get to Platform 9 ¾ when school resumes,” he said, to which the blonde girl beside him nodded. He turned on the spot, and with a loud pop, vanished into thin air, leaving the girl to herself. She let out a heavy sigh and walked toward the cottage, lugging her heavy trunk behind her. Charlotte pushed open the front gate, hearing it give a loud protesting ‘creak’, and began down the cobblestone path to the front door. She could heard the rose bushes at the front of the house rustling with the ever-present breeze, and the crickets chirruping away happily.

The large, wooden door, which had been enchanted only to open to Goyle’s or those who were friends of the Goyle’s, gave a loud click as Charlotte neared. She opened the door and sighed at how quaint and quiet the place was. As she stepped into the living room, candles and oil lamps flicked on, one-by-one, and a fire roared to life in the fireplace. Closing the door behind her and setting her trunk off to the side, she stood just past the door, taking in the place.

It smelled of lavender and fresh wheat and reminded her of the many summers she spent in the menial cottage. Her parents had given it to her as a gift when she was nine, and she was allowed to choose the amenities within. To their disdain, she had made the place as Muggle as possible, with the exception of a few things. There were to be no elves. There were to be no moving portraits, at least not in the living room or kitchen. It suited Charlotte well.

There was a small, antique looking couch in front of the fire, a large crème-colored knit blanket draped over the back of it. A plain, oriental rug sat in the center of the room, a barrier between bare feet and the cold cobblestone floors. The mantle above the fireplace was filled with tiny trinkets and reminders from Charlotte’s travels and gifts from family. Two large bookshelves flanked the fireplace, filled with every book imaginable, both Muggle and Wizard books alike. An ancient looking gramophone sat on a small table just beside the couch. A cardboard box of records sitting just beside it.

Just beyond the living room was the kitchen and Charlotte had wanted no walls separating the two. It had every pot and pan imaginable and was stocked to the brim with everything Charlotte need to concoct every culinary experiment she felt she needed too. A large window sat just over the old porcelain sink, providing a wonderful view of the wide open ocean, now dark, angry, and white-capped with night. A small, round, dingy and beat-up looking table sat in the open space of the kitchen, plates and cutlery set out as if the home were waiting for someone to live in it.

Her bedroom lay just past the door that was to Charlotte’s right. The room was simple, plainly decorated in midnight blue and dark mahogany décor. A baby grand piano sat in one of the corners of the room, just opposite of the bay windows that also provided a view of the ocean. Her bathroom was small and through a door in the room. Within that room was a clawed, porcelain bath tub and shower, a toilet, sink, mirror, and linen cupboard. A circular window let in the only bit of light into the room, positioned just above the bath tub.

Charlotte let out a heavy sigh as she stepped further into the house and sat down on the couch, feeling an overwhelming nostalgia and homesickness wash over her. She missed her parents, she hadn’t seen them since Easter break. She missed Gregory and felt like she hadn’t had enough time with him after Azkaban. She already began missing Draco’s company and knew that her slight dependency on him was not a good thing. Having connections deeper than family with anyone could be troublesome in the future and could be used as blackmail to get her to do something she doesn’t wish to.

And so, the girl sat there in front of the fire nearly all night, both relishing and hating the fact that she was alone in the cottage on the coast of Ireland that she loved so much as a child.

“Draco, I’ve got a letter for you,” Gregory said as they met on a corridor in the Malfoy Manor. The eldest Goyle sibling glanced down the hallway, both ways, to be sure that no one knew they had both received letters from Charlotte. He then procured a plain white envelope of parchment with a golden wax seal keeping it together and folded and handed it to Draco, who quickly pocketed the letter. “I just wanted to let you know that I know where she is exactly.”

“Is it where you thought she was?” Draco asked, itching to get the conversation over with so he could retreat to his room and read his letter in solitude.

“Yeah,” Gregory breathed through a sigh with a nod, “just don’t go after her. If anyone finds out that you’ve followed her and met up, she won’t like it. She’d like to be alone for the time being.” Draco merely stared at him for a few moments before sighing as well.

“Well…thanks,” he murmured before turning and beginning to walk to his room. Gregory walked off in the opposite direction, dissatisfied with Draco’s reaction, but he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it if he tried to meet up with Charlotte. The Malfoy Manor was in a flurry of action regarding things that would transpire over the next few days. Plans were being gone over with a fine-toothed comb for accuracy and effectiveness. Things were to go to plan, or they’d all be dead.

Draco reached his room and closed the door behind him, locking it immediately before walking over to his bed and sitting down on it. He ran the letter over in his fingertips, looking over the plain, golden-wax seal carefully before breaking it and pulling open the letter. He immediately began to read it, wondering what Charlotte was doing at that very moment.

“Draco,

I know that what I did to your aunt was wrong and I’m sorry if this has caused you and your family any trouble. I do like your parents and I would not want to cause them any inconvenience after how wonderful they have both been to me. However, I will not apologize to your aunt. Just know that she may attempt to spew horrid rumors about me or my family when you are around and know that they aren’t, in the slightest bit, true. Any evidence she may have supporting these rumors are merely falsities meant to belittle myself and my family. I’m rather cross about all of these rumors and I’m sure you can understand.

I am safe and alone. You do not need to know of my whereabouts because I know you. You will come after me and I can’t have that. If someone follows you here, or if the Dark Lord knows you have left for me, all will be spoiled. Don’t bother writing me either. No owl will know where I am, as I have left my owl in the care of my brother after delivering these letters. I can only hope that you’ll be safe within these next few days. You will take part of dangerous plans that I am no part of. I only wish I could be there to help you and protect you. Know that I love you dearly and would give everything up just to be with you and act our age. I will not sign this letter, for securities sake, but I’m sure you can figure out who I am.

Be safe. Be alert. Not just for your sake alone, but mine as well. I need you.”

As soon as Draco finished reading the last word, the letter crumbled into ashes in his fingertips, fluttering to the ground like grey snowflakes. He let out a shaky breath of air and ran his fingertips through his hair, trying to keep himself from crying, but failing. He knew he’d have to see her before the big plans went into effect. There’s no way he could go through with it without giving her a proper goodbye lest he never see her again. He had a day to figure out a way to safely slip away from the Malfoy Manor, and a day would be all that he would need.