29 Jul 2019, 21:45
A Rollercoaster Summer
Set over the course of the summer of 2019, number 2 Railway Terrace, Aviemore, Scotland
Home Sweet Rainy Home
As the Whites’ car pulled into the drive, Margo leaned her head out of the open window and enjoyed the feeling of small raindrops landing on her cheek. She could feel the disapproving gaze of her older brother, Toby, on the back of her neck, but it was the last thing she cared about in those few peaceful moments. Within seconds, the car had stopped and her father was walking around the side of their neighbours house towards the path that lead to their own dwelling- number two, Railway Terrace. It had been half a year since Margo had last set foot on the turf she called home, and she let out a small smile at the comfort of having the green grass of Aviemore underfoot.
While her father inserted the key in the lock, Margo strained her ears for the familiar sound of Mimi’s barks. To her absolute delight, she was met instead with the sound scratching on the other side of the door as the young dog emitted a small whine. The door opened and revealed the canine’s small form for a second before she launched herself at them, licking Margo and Toby’s ankles excitedly, her tail wagging furiously as they petted her.
Margo fell to her knees, forgetting to quell the smile spreading across her face. She lifted the little bundle of joy into her arms and buried her emotional features into the black fur of her dog. You have the whole summer to be with her. She told herself. Get a grip. However, even her spiky self control couldn’t stop the emotions.
Oh whatever. It wasn’t like it was urgent to stem the flow anyway- she was surrounded by the people she loved. She followed her parents into the hall, stooping to untie her boots with one hand, Mimi licking her face affectionately. Toby heaved their trunks through the front door and her parents headed towards the kitchen. Everything was perfect... until her older brother spoke.
“Hey, biscuit, let me actually touch Mimi, will you?” Toby said, not aggressively. He’d already taken off his trainers and stood right behind her. Margo ignored him, not a wise decision. “Did you hear me? Let me see the dog!”
“Hold your fire.” Margo replied sarcastically, her mask sliding rapidly back into place over her love for Mimi. “No need to be jealous that Mimi loves me more.”
“She does not.” Toby almost growled. For a second Margo worried that she’d gone too far, but then she decided that she didn’t actually care.
“An animal can only form a bond with someone present in their life. I thought you were signed up for Care of Magical creatures next year. You seem a little underprepared.” She snarked.
Toby bristled. “So what if you had the year before last to laze around here with Mimi. I was doing something productive. And besides, dogs have associative memories. Mimi likely associates me with you, mum and dad which means she strengthens the bond between the four of us every time you play with her.”
Margo paused the conversation to place Mimi on the ground. As she started to walk into the kitchen she looked over her shoulder and said. “Dogs form bonds with real people, not associated memories of them. I’m telling you a fact and you’re trying to deny the truth. Now, go and bond with our dog and stop your jealousy. I look forward to a real insult match. Soon.”
She closed the kitchen door behind her, but not before seeing Toby stroking the excited canine circling his ankles. Reaching out without thought, Margo grabbed a mug from the familiar high shelf and proceeded to make herself her usual cup of milky tea. She then sat at the wooden table and stared out of the window into the misty rain. She was home. And there was no place in the world she’d rather be.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish
18 Aug 2019, 17:56
A Rollercoaster Summer
Margo couldn't believe it. It was almost a week into her summer and there wasn't a day that it hadn't rained. She'd already made several items of clothing and, as much as she loved doing it, she was ready to take on another hobby as well. She and Toby had already had quite a few sarcasm matches, but the older boy was now out who knows where, just as bored of the confinements of their house as she was. Margo had already read all of her brother's magical textbooks for the year ahead, making a note of the things she didn't know so she could make sure she did know them by the end of the year.The Best Heirloom In Generations
So, it was with a bored soul, and a neutral expression that Margo precariously balanced the family's wet wooden ladders on her shoulder and climbed the stairs with difficulty. She was going to search the attic for some old baby clothes to reuse. She wasn't particularly excited for what she would find among the dust balls. She doubted that anybody had been up there in years, no matter how much her father said he wanted to clear the place out- one of his more OCD tendencies.
The ladder creaked as she climbed it, but it held steady, much to the Slytherin's relief. Once she'd managed to find the torch kept in the corner, she started sorting through sacs of old clothes and belongings, tossing anything she liked into a pile before the trapdoor. She was sorting through a particularly large sac when something behind it caught her eye. It was absolutely beautiful, like an old, weirdly shaped folk painting.
As Margo got closer, she saw the handles on it's sides and the engraving on the base. William White, it said. Margo frowned thoughtfully. William was the name of her father's father, a charming man who'd died when she was only eight. She'd had no idea that her dad had any of his possessions, but then again, it was still a sore subject, even though three years had passed.
Her curiosity getting the better of her, Margo blew some of the dust off of it's surface and lifted the latches of the long, strange case.
"Wow." she breathed, unable to to stop her admiration from showing at the contents of the painted case. Inside, was a shiny guitar, gleaming and beautiful. Margo had never had a passion for music, but all the same, she could still appreciate a good tune. The Beatles were probably the band she admired most, and they had a lot of guitar in their songs.
Even so, it came as a little of a shock to Margo when she realised that the guitar was in her hands and her finger was stroking across the strings. Unfortunately the spell was broken when the sound produced was so horrible that even Margo knew that it was out of tune. Wincing slightly, she quickly covered the offending strings with her palm, quelling the vibrations. That was when she knew. Her summer project would be to master this guitar and bring back the joy of her grandfather's tunes. With a little music, perhaps her father would get over his grief, and with a little strumming, perhaps Margo's rough edges would become a bit softer. After all, Margo thought as she exited the attic, guitar case in hand, anything was possible.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish