Errand Nostalgia Finished Solo

[font=Book Antiqua]Thora trudged into the Study of Ancient Runes Classroom. Typically, she wouldn’t have dared to enter such a classroom, as she knew that the Runes class was only offered to third year-or-older students. But she had heard people talking about an errand opportunity, and the redhead wasn’t about to turn down such an opportunity. After all, she could always use some extra money, as the wizarding currency was very hard to get, considering her Muggle background.

Stepping into the cozy-looking class, she gasped, looking around. The classroom nestled deep in the North Tower was lit only by candles. It looked much like the attic in the redhead’s own home, back in Ireland. A delicious aroma filled the room—not like the scents that flowed from the kitchen when her mother was cooking up a storm, but more like the soaps that the Larkston family made. The young Slytherin drifted off in nostalgia, imagining the delicious herbal smells that comforted her, that always caused a sense of peace to settle over the young girl after a rough day at school.

Scanning the room, Thora’s pale eyes settled on huge cauldrons of bubbling wax resting over fires. She had never tried the candlemaking process before, nor had she seen it, but it didn’t hurt to give it a try. The redhead had, however, many times over, participated in soapmaking, which seemed to be a semiannual event with her family. Spotting the abundance of dried herbs over on a table, it seemed that the two processes were very much similar. 

Thora listened as the professor explained the simple but painstaking process of candle-making. Apparently, you were supposed to dip a piece of string, much like a rope, into a huge cauldron of wax over and over until it formed a candle-like shape. The students were also allowed to grab a couple Chocolate Frogs. The redhead picked one up cautiously, unsure of what to think of the wizard candy. Hoping it wouldn't hop away, she stuck it into her mouth. To her delight, it tasted like the smoothest chocolate, running over her tongue and down her throat. But back to candlemaking...

The second year picked up a couple pieces of string and walked over to a bubbling cauldron where no one else was there. She took a deep breath, and, picking up a piece of string, began to dip it lengthwise into the hot wax. Taking care not to burn herself, she repeated this mundane process over and over, until, to her delight, she had formed a beautiful candle-like shape.

When the candle had cooled and was only warm to the touch, the girl set it aside and picked up another piece of string. Candle after hot candle was made as the Irish girl's capable hands worked on and on. Now having repeated the process so many times she could do it with her eyes closed, Thora began to drift off in a cloud of her own thoughts. Smiling, she remembered the soap-making that took place in her own farmhouse-style home. 

There, they would use thickened oils, water, and such (the redhead was so young during the process that her parents prepared all the materials, so she never knew exactly what went into the soaps), mixing it together and adding random scents. Thora loved the musty lemony-lime of lemongrass, her younger sister loved peppermint, while her mother preferred the clean scent of lavender. Her dad, of course, didn't really care for scents.

One could think that the Larkston family's lifestyle was old-fashioned and inconvenient, but Thora begged to differ. Yes, this was true--the family preferred to live in a quiet, family-like lifestyle rather than party in the big city. This part was ironic, as the family lived on the outskirts of Dublin. They could've had any conveniences they pleased, but they were all content living out in the midst of rolling hills and green pastures. 

Bringing herself back to her senses, Thora realized she had forgotten to scent the candles. Smacking her forehead, she returned to the table of supplies and took a stem of lemongrass and one of lavender. Mixing the herbs in with a smaller batch of wax, she used her smaller batch to dip her candles, alternating between each herb. She hoped she was doing the right thing, as it seemed she was the only one who had gotten straight to work--at this, she cringed. It was evident that she didn't have nearly as many friends as most of the other students in the school. While other students walked in with a small group of friends or in pairs, Thora was sitting by herself, accompanied only by a cauldron of wax.

With a sad sigh, the redhead turned back to her work and made a solemn vow. Here, at the beginning of her second year, she would make more friends. She would go out of her comfort zone to talk to people. After all, she was a second year now. Maybe there were some first years that needed help. At least she could talk to someone she had gotten to know already, like Bridget Collins or Katrina Walker. Shoving these wishes out of her head, Thora focused on her process. Glancing at the building pile of candles beside her, she blushed with pride. She had made more than she had ever imagined. The table she had stacked with candles was a neat pyramid--she would count them after she finished. 

About fifteen minutes later, the Slytherin stood up, stretching after an hour of kneeling at her work. Proudly surveying her respectable stack of candles she had made, she frowned. There was no way she would be able to carry such an enormous stack of candles. Was she allowed to use spells? Hopefully so... Taking her alder wand out of a pocket in her dark robe marked with the Slytherin crest, she pointed it at the stack of candles. Hoping no one would notice, she moved her hand with a swish and a flick. "Wingardium Leviosa," she incanted. To her relief, the candles rose up. Walking over to the Runes professor, she dropped the pile neatly on the table. "I hope these are enough," she said with a smile. 
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[font=Book Antiqua]WC | 1039/1000[/font]