Dark Come Soon

It was the Saturday before the term was scheduled to commence at Hogwarts and the ancient castle was teeming with life. The house elves scurried throughout the castle, eager to ready it for the students that would soon inhabit its walls, the Professors that had left during the summer holiday had returned and even Peeves behaved better than he normally did, claiming that it was necessary for him to take his rest in order to be in top shape for the following days festivities.

All in all, the environment at Hogwarts was one conducive to joy; one that any person would have loved to have been a part of, well, everyone except for Alexandra and that was due to the fact that at seven fourteen that morning, Alexandra accidentally spilt the paint she’d purchased only a week earlier, rendering her unable to complete the painting she’d been meticulously working on for the last four days.

The accident put her in a foul mood.

And she spent what remained of the morning trying to sketch, but try as she did; she ended up hating everything she created. The trash bin was where her sketches found themselves hurled after they’d been deemed hideous and within a quarter of an hour, said bin had overfilled and the wrinkled drawings had no choice but to spill onto the ground.

At eight, her father awoke to find her sitting on the windowsill with a novel in hand and an unsettling scowl on her young face. He was about to inquire as to what had caused that scowl but when he saw the empty paint containers along with the trash bin, he figured that it was all due to an unsuccessful morning of creating.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” he asked, throwing the covers off himself so as to stand.

“Just coffee,” she replied, not bothering to lift her gaze from the novel.

“Well then you should take a break.” Andrés offered his daughter a tender smile. “Lets get changed, grab some breakfast and go to Diagon Alley. We’ll get some more colors. How’s that sound?”

“Is it alright if we go somewhere else?” she set down her copy of Persuasion. “Diagon Alley gives me the creeps.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he reassured. “Have any place in mind?”

Alexandra sighed as if to say, California. “Can we go to LA? Just for a little while and then we’ll come back?” she was homesick, terribly so, and a trip to Los Angeles would rid her from the foul mood she was in.

“It’s midnight over there.”

“Can’t we go when it’s morning over there? Nana wakes up at like six, so does my Abuelito (grandpa), if we go at seven their time it’ll be totally fine and we can get the paint after. Please dad. It’d mean a lot . . . and it’ll be my Christmas present!” she quickly added.

“Aye Alex.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “By the time its seven over there, it’ll be 3 in the afternoon here and I know you, you’re going to want to stay there for a long time and we can’t, you need a good nights sleep for tomorrow and I still have to get some things ready at the office.”

“But –” she began to protest.

“You know if we could, I’d take you.”

“But you can! We can, um, well, if we leave from here at three then we have the entire morning to get your office ready for tomorrow and then we can stay over until its ten here and we’ll come back. I promise that I won’t be annoying and ask you to let us stay longer. I just really want to see them. I miss home.”

“This is home.” Andrés spoke in a small voice.

Alexandra disagreed. “This is just a castle.”

This was a discussion that Andrés wasn’t going to win and after some deep thought, he decided to give in. He to missed his parents, it had been weeks since they’d last visited and this would most likely be the last time they were with the family in Los Angeles until the winter holidays struck.

“Alright, I suppose we can go, but only if we finish getting the office ready and you have to promise to dress up.” His mother was from the school of thought that believed women should always be well dressed. “She’s going to want to see you in a dress and with proper shoes on, not the dirty old boots you fancy so much.”

Alexandra launched herself at Andrés, wrapping her arms around his waist as she mumbled into his chest, “Thanks dad.”

True to her word, she helped her father make the last finishing touches on his office. She worked diligently, focused solely on placing his medical books in the right sequence as well as his files neatly in the filing cabinet beside his desk. Her father was very particular in the way his things were organized, he always said that organization was the key to success and although Alexandra believed in those words, she failed at being organized in her school work.

The only manner she was organized in was in her painting. She had her brushes all neatly laid out in a protective case her Nana gave her for Christmas, but as for her books for school and cauldrons, well, those things were jumbled inside an old trunk that rarely saw the light of day, even during the school year.

Alexandra wasn’t the sort that spent her afternoons reading over the assigned material. That was boring to her. The only time she actually studied the assigned readings was the night before an exam and even then, it was more along the lines of a light skim than a thorough reading, but somehow she managed to get high marks that kept her on the honor roll.

By the time that the clock struck three, the office had been finished long ago and the pair was arriving at the outskirts of Hogsmeade where they would then be able to apparate back. The journey home would be more trying which was why Andrés decided it would be best for them to sleep at the family home in Los Angeles and then travel home in the morning when there was sun out.

He did so because, as talented as Andrés was, he wasn’t a dueler.

Sure, he had participated in the dueling club during his time at the Academy and done reasonably well, but he wasn’t exceptionally talented. His talent lay in healing, that was his passion, not fighting and he knew that if he were to run into a talented dark wizard, the odds would not be in his favor, which was why he would be taking defense classes with Severus, Dumbledore had requested it and thankfully, Severus could tolerate the company of Andrés.

Upon arriving at Hogsmeade, Alexandra took hold of her fathers hand, clutching it tightly as the other readied himself to apparate them both to the footsteps of their home in California, and then, without warning they were sent hurling through time and space, until finally setting on the quaint house in the heart of the magical community in Los Angeles, the house in which Alexandra had been raised.

The loud POP that always seemed to accompany the actual apparating, alerted the elderly woman in the kitchen that someone has just arrived. She wiped her hands on her apron, rushing to the door as quickly as her tired legs could carry her and then, when she opened the door, a wide grin broke across her face.

Alexandra ran into her Nana’s arms, holding the elderly woman tightly as she breathed in the scent that smelled strongly of fresh tortillas and homemade salsa. Aurelia was always busy in the kitchen, cooking was her passion and in her youth, she had been the head chef at a high profile restaurant in Los Angeles, that changed after she gave birth to her third child and decided that it would be better to stay at home to look after the children.

After their moment ended, Aurelia turned to her son and gently cupped his right cheek with her hand, she rubbed it gingerly, smiling as she did so and then he wrapped his arms around her, towering over his mother by several inches, but still feeling the same comfort he did as a child in her arms.

“Why didn’t you owl?” she asked, a faint Spanish accent present in her voice.

“It was a spur of the moment thing.” Andrés explained. “Alex wanted to come so we thought we’d surprise you.”

“And you did.” Aurelia reassured. “Now come in, I’ve just about finished making breakfast and your father’s out back in the garden, taking care of the guava tree he bought a few days back. I told him that it didn’t look like it would take to the soil, but you know how stubborn he is, so he went to get some potions and now he’s preparing the soil, claims it’ll make everything better.” She laughed softly to herself, shaking her head as she did so. “Old age made him crazier. Aye Alex, you look beautiful! See, this is how you should always dress. Girls are supposed to wear pretty dresses, not those oversized pants you’re always wearing. Those are what boys wear.”

This was the sort of thing that Alexandra was used to hearing. Growing up, she’d heard her Nana go off on little rants like that on a daily basis, so she just stood there with a little smile on her lips and pretended to pay attention, just to humor the old woman.

Alexandra followed her Nana into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table as Aurelia returned her attention to the chilaquiles that were cooking on the stove. She sat there in silence, admiring her Nana’s beauty in the soft morning light. Her grandmother was a dark skinned woman with rich, russet skin that always had a sun kissed glow to it and even though she was in her late sixties, the glow was still intact. Her eyes were a dark shade of brown, so dark that they were almost black and her skin wrinkled and sagged, but there wasn’t a thing that Alexandra would change about her Nana.

Aurelia was the woman of Alexandra’s life.

She would always be.

“How’s Sybill?” Aurelia had never been fond of Sybill, she always thought her an odd creature that was undeserving of her son and she refused to refer to her as Alexandra’s mother, because in Aurelia’s opinion, a true mother isn’t the woman that pushes the baby out from her womb, but the woman that cares for them, dotes on them, and does everything in their power to ensure the felicity of their child.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Has she been nice?” she poured the salsa atop the chilaquiles.

Alexandra nodded. “Really nice, she’s been trying real hard to be sweet.”

“And how are your lessons going? Has she taught you how to control it?”

“No,” Alexandra fiddled with the burgundy fabric that her dress was made of. “She’s been, well, she has me reading books, old texts she finds on other seers but so far she hasn’t taught me anything important. The other day we were gazing into crystal balls. Can you believe that? I thought it was the dumbest thing ever and then, I saw one thing and she saw something else and she kept claiming that was she saw was right, but she didn’t look like she was being sincere. I don’t know, I guess sometimes I feel that she’s not all that talented a seer.”

Aurelia set down her large wooden spoon. “Those are just your nerves talking. Sybill’s talented, has to be in order to work at Hogwarts, they don’t let just anyone teach there.”

“But I think she’s faking it most of the time.”

“Well maybe she feels that she has to, to keep you interested. I mean, you don’t have visions every single day, maybe with age, the visions slow down and they’re not what they used to be.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

Aurelia returned her attention to the food. “Have you made any friends?” she changed the subject.

“Believe it or not, I actually have.” Alexandra replied, a feeling of pride surging through her chest.

That was not the response Aurelia was expecting.

“You what?” she craned her neck, eyes wide in shock.

Alexandra began laughing lightly, her face lighting up at her Nana’s expression. “Is it really all that shocking for me to make a friend?”

“With the way you’ve been acting these months, it’s shocking for you to talk to strangers, let alone make a friend.” Aurelia grabbed four plates from the cupboards overhead. “So who are they? How’d you meet?”

“She’s the headmaster’s granddaughter, names Ramona and she’s really nice. She doesn’t mind that I'm different . . . it’s well, nice.”

“I’ve told you that people won’t mind your abilities. I bet if you told everyone about your gift, you’d be the one that would fret over it more than them. That’s just how you are.”

“Not true,” Alexandra argued. “Teenagers are ruthless. They find one thing about you that’s off and they’ll make it into a huge deal and bully the hell out of you with it. I’d rather not have to go through that, growing up is hard enough without the added drama.”

“You just don’t have enough faith in people.”

“Can’t argue there,” Alexandra muttered. “I think I’ll invite Ramona over one of these days, so you can meet her.” she was trying to avoid further arguing with her Nana. “Think you’ll really like her, she’s real clever and funny, even wants to move here after she graduates.”

“To Los Angeles?” she asked.

Alexandra nodded.

“What for?” she couldn’t fathom why someone would abandon England for California.

“Wants to start a band and where better than here,” Alexandra’s eyes darted to the oven where fresh baked pastries were about ready to be taken out. “Did you make pan dulce (sweet bread)?”

“Mhm, I’ll pack some for you.”

What remained of Alexandra’s time in Los Angeles was spent sitting beside her Nana in the garden. From her seat she watched her father help her grandfather, Gustavo, trim the hedges as well as make another few adjustments. It was a quiet afternoon, one in which absolutely nothing exciting happened. That was the way Alexandra preferred things. Excitement was nice, but she preferred a calm environment in which she could read or paint over anything else.

It had been that way even before her abilities had manifested themselves.

There had been many instances in which she pretended to have something to do in order to get out of hanging out with friends, because as social as she had been, she still valued her private time and was unwilling to sacrifice that precious time.

Although they were enjoying their stay, Andrés made sure they both went to bed at three pm California time so that they would have a full nights sleep and be able to head back to Hogsmeade when the clock struck midnight in Los Angeles. He made sure to set his alarm and sure enough, at a quarter past midnight they apparated to Hogsmeade where the sun shone brightly and commence the journey back to the ancient castle.

Once inside their private chamber, Alexandra began to pack her belongings. She wished that she could continue sharing the room with Andrés, but knew that was out of the question. She was going to have to dorm with other girls in whichever house she was sorted into.

And by six o’clock that evening, she had finished packing, changed into the mandatory dress robes and was standing in the very back of a long line of first years, anxiously waiting to be sorted. She fidgeted nervously, lips pursed as her eyes scanned the ocean of students before her, she spotted Ramona at the Slytherin table and just as Ramona had told her, she was sitting all alone, her fellow Slytherins completely ignoring her.

At another table, the one filled with Gryffindors, she spotted Ramona’s friends, the ones she’d met at Diagon Alley just a few weeks earlier. They were all bunched up, talking animatedly amongst one another and a small smile flickered across her lips, but it soon vanished when her name was called by the witch she had come to know as Professor McGonagall.

“Alexandra Yaotl Ávila!” she bellowed.

A deep breath was taken by Alexandra before she commenced the relatively short journey to the old stool in the middle of the stage. Her hands were balled into fists, she muttered inwardly to herself, telling herself that she could do it, that it would be over soon enough. She took a seat upon the stool and closed her eyes, slightly tensing when the tattered old hat was placed atop her head.

“A foreigner, much to old to be a first year, quite a mind on you . . . and hidden talents, no need to hide them, those ought to be celebrated . . . lets see, ah perhaps Hufflepuff, ah yes, loyal, hardworking, but no, not nearly as patient as one ought to be. Gryffindor?” it asked. “Hmm, you could do quite well in Gryffindor . . . willing to sacrifice one self for loved ones . . . chivalrous beyond belief, but not very daring . . . alas, perhaps somewhere else. Oh. Ravenclaw, yes, witty, creative and a true individual, a tad lazy, but the intelligence is there . . . alright then, must be RAVENCLAW!”