The Sweet Smell of Home
Nova breathed in the crisp summer air outside the Hogwarts Express. Her hair whipped around from the wind, covering her face in a mix of blonde and brown. Her luggage sat next to her as she stretched, just slightly worn out from use throughout the year. She was finally back at home, the smell as good as she remembered it.
She could see the hills in the distance and wondered whether her room was the same as she had first left it. She glanced around, back still sore from resting against the window, and brightened significantly when she saw her father waving with her two younger siblings next to him, smiles on their faces.
She grinned widely as she walked over to them, her luggage slowing her down but she didn't care. Izzie immediately ran over to her, practically colliding with her on impact with giggles. Nova caught her, stumbling back a bit before wrapping an arm around her too. "Hi, Izzie! How are you?"
She asked in a cheerful tone while Izzie squeezed the breath out of her, replying with something incoherent. Her father came running behind her, hair messy as if he had forgotten to brush it out, and took her bag with a smile while Oliver trailed behind, an unnaturally upset expression on his face.
"How was the train ride, Nova? Are you alright?" Her father asked kindly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a half-hug. She shrugged in response, looking around for the one person she hoped to see. Her mother. Her father noticed her looking around and smiled a bit too heartily. "Your mother's at home right now, she had some work at St. Mungos, but she should be back by now. You'll get to see her at home."
Nova smiled at that, slightly disappointed but brushed it off. "That's good, I missed her," she murmured, walking along with her father and her siblings at her side.
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The drive home was cozy, hills passing by as Nova talked about her studies, her friends, and a certain blonde boy. Her sister giggled teasingly when she mentioned it, and she rolled her eyes, the nostalgia of it all overwhelming the urge to flick her forehead in revenge.
Her dad shot her a disapproving look in the rearview mirror and she stopped, continuing her story. "I was gonna push him into the Great Lake but I didn't. He'd probably drag me down with him." She thought about whether or not to mention the cold Gryffindor she had encountered but decided against it, switching the topic to her Professors.
Her father hummed along, paying close attention to what she said. She always liked that about him. He was always there if something was wrong or she needed to talk to someone. She glanced at Oliver next to her and noticed his eyes were red-rimmed. Her brows furrowed in concern and she opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when her father cleared his throat and asked her about her exams. She groaned dramatically at that but continued to tell him.
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Nova stood outside her house, the peonies growing alongside patches of wildflowers. The scent was sweet and fresh, and they swayed to the light breeze blowing. It's been way too long. She thought with a smile as she pushed open the door to her home. It was warm, and cozy as ever.
She walked through the familiar halls, stopping in the kitchen doorway. And then she saw her mother. She looked the same but different at the same time. Her eyes were tired, and her smile seemed forced when she noticed Nova, giving a small wave. “Oh! Nova, hi, love,” she said, brushing a few stray papers to the side. “You’re home already—I thought we had a bit more time.”
Nova glanced down at the kitchen counter and saw multiple letters and their envelopes spread out, the handwriting a neat, cursive script. She tried to look closer but her mother pulled them away, swiftly stuffing them into a folder. Nova’s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could say anything, her father walked in and immediately offered her a snack.
"I'm sure you're starving!" he exclaimed, placing a plate of her favorite cookies on the counter. "I made these especially for you, y'know." he continued while raising his eyebrows playfully. She giggled and rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of one of the cookies. Whatever was happening, she'd let it go. For now.
She had missed this. Missed laughing with her dad, and chasing her siblings around her house until they were all breathless and laughing endlessly. And now she was back, exactly as she had remembered it.
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Father and Mother's speech - #84774d
NOTES:Part 1 of SoloWORD COUNT: 746/200 wordsIC date: 1st July, 2025.
Last edited by Nova Astron on 18 Jul 2025, 15:37, edited 2 times in total.
The Sweet Smell of Home
It had been exactly two days since Nova had come home. Everything felt normal. Except for one thing. She hadn’t seen Oreo, her cat, for a while. She had expected him to come running—or probably walking, from how old he was now—and purr around her legs for affection. He usually did that, no matter how long she’d been gone.
She couldn’t find any fur in the places she looked for him. No black and white contrasting against the wooden kitchen cabinet he had inhabited when he was first a kitten. In fact, it looked like it had been cleaned thoroughly a while ago. Nova didn’t question it, but it confused her.
She sat with her mother after filling up his water bowl. Just in case he comes back soon. She told herself as she sat at the kitchen island. Her mother had a steaming cup of tea in her hands, staring at the steam like it help with whatever was going on. Nova didn’t know. She didn’t want to ask, either. Not when her mother looked so… distant. The sound of dished clinking against each other softly filled the kitchen as her father stood in front of the sink.
She looked up as Oliver walked in, eyes redder than the last time she saw them. His hand was clenched around the bear he kept on his bed. She raised an eyebrow when he spoke, voice trembling. “I miss Oreo.” His words sent a wave of confusion through her, and she responded with a confused expression on her face. “What do you mean, Oliver?”
Her question seemed to open the floodgates, as Oliver started tearing up. He sniffed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Her father tried to intervene when he started to answer her question, expression slightly panicked. “He… he died. A few weeks ago?” Her chest tightened at the answer, and she turned to her parents, hoping for clarification.
Her father looked at her with eyes full of guilt while her mother remained expressionless. A heavy silence filled the kitchen, and she looked between both her parents before speaking, voice quiet and slightly hollow. “A few weeks ago?” she repeated, “And no one told me?”
Her father turned off the tap. “We didn’t know how to tell you,” he said quietly, drying his hands on a towel while looking at her. “You had exams happening and we didn’t want to distract you.” Her mother nodded slowly in agreement, finally looking at Nova. Her eyes had the usual softness laced through them as Nova tried to process what was happening.
She didn’t respond right away. She glanced at the water bowl she had filled earlier. Untouched. She stared at it, remembering how Oreo used to trot over like a little king. The memory felt like a dull ache in her chest, and she blinked once. Then twice as tears slowly stung her eyes.
Her father quickly spoke up, voice gentle. “He was waiting for you when it happened, Nova. Sat in the windowsill to look.” The reassurance was subtle, but Nova noticed. She gave a short nod, still as a board. She didn’t know how to feel. Sad that she had just lost a dear friend of years or angry that she wasn’t informed when it had happened.
She felt betrayal of some sort, mixing with her grief. She didn’t understand why they had thought she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She looked at her parents again, eye flicking between their guilty but gentle expressions. “Where is he?” She finally asked, voice quiet. Her father pointed outside to their backyard, straight at a seedling that wasn’t there before.
“Over there. We planted a tree for him, too.” He answered as she followed the line of his finger. She slowly got up, the chair scraping against the kitchen floor. She walked outside, the warm summer air engulfing her like a blanket. The sapling was tiny, its few leaves waving in the breeze. It looked delicate, like one strong gust would snap it in half. But it stood, anyway.
She crouched down next to it, her eyes not nearly as wet as before. The setting was peaceful. It reminded her of the days when Oreo wasn’t as old. He’d sunbathe for hours in the warm light. It felt nostalgic, and she wondered if it had gone differently, she’d have gotten to say goodbye. She knew she couldn’t do anything about it now, so she pulled her mind out of it, settling on the freshly turned dirt.
She sat cross-legged and leaned close to the little sapling. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here soon enough.” She murmured to it, her voice soft. She wondered if he could still hear her, even if he wasn’t there. She let herself believe it; she had nothing else to hold on to.
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Father and Mother's speech - #84774d ~ Oliver's speech - #6495ED
NOTES:Part 2 of SoloWORD COUNT: 807/200 wordsIC date: 3rd July, 2025.
The Sweet Smell of Home
Nova spent the majority of her time during the first week back in her room. It was an average sized room with a bay window in the corner she called her little nook. After Oreo’s death, she had been more withdrawn. At least, as much as she could be with her siblings banging on her door to play with them.
She felt a hollow space next to her whenever she lay on her bed, like a hole was carved where Oreo usually slept. When she had walked in the first time, her bed had a small imprint on it of a cat laying there. There was no fur around, so she had assumed her father had cleaned it after his death.
She lay there on her bed, staring up at the blank ceiling. She felt empty inside, like a piece of her had been ripped out of her and she had only just become aware of it. As she rolled over, she heard her parents talking downstairs. It wasn’t loud or harsh, more like hushed whispering.
Nova felt curious and slid out of her bed, walking to her door. Her mother was usually out for her job later than this, and she hadn’t even noticed her come in. The usual occurrence when her mother got home was the gentle closing of the front door and greetings being exchanged.
She snuck down the staircase, pausing to hear if her siblings were around. She slowed down, surprised by the silence—no banging, no laughter. Maybe they were outside. She sat down on a step, flinching when it creaked under her weight. Her ears perked up as she heard her parents’ voices from the kitchen.
“They won’t stop trying, Daniel. They’ve sent almost a dozen letters already and—” Her father cut her off, voice low. “Quiet down, the kids will hear. Or Nova.” There was a long pause as her mother shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Nova inched closer, trying to get a glimpse of her parents.
Inside the kitchen was nothing out of the ordinary except for the large pile of letters, some shredded and others pristine. A few moments later, her mother spoke, tone slightly desperate. “You don’t know them like I do. They’ll try to contact Nova instead, I already told you that,” Nova felt confused, wondering who they were talking about.
Nova’s thoughts quickly vanished as her father leaned close, wrapping an arm around her mother. Her mother’s expression softened, forehead still creased with worry. They didn’t say anything for a while, just standing together. Nova smiled a little at their actions. She had always admired her parents’ relationship; they rarely fought and when they did, it was completely calm.
Nova quietly stood up, walking into the kitchen cautiously. Her father noticed her first, immediately brightening and giving her a grin. Her mother, on the other hand, slid the rest of the letters into the trash bin subtly as her father quickly spoke. “Nova, how are you now?” He asked kindly, pulling away from her mother to lean on the counter.
Nova gave a non-committal shrug, eyes flickering between the trash bin and her parents faces. Something was different about the way her mother looked at her. Not bad, necessarily, but different in a way. Her father cleared his throat, offering her another smile that felt just a little too timed. “Actually, we were just about to come talk to you.”
Nova tilted her head, wary but curious. “We’re going to visit your grandparents this weekend,” he said, tone light. “Thought it might be good to get out of the house for a bit.” Nova smiled at that. She had always liked her dad’s parents. They were old sweethearts that always had some story to share with her, which she listened to eagerly.
She nodded slowly before speaking, tone hopeful for the first time since Oreo’s death. “That’s good,” she murmured with a faint smile. Her father looked relieved at her reaction, the tightness in his shoulders easing just a bit. Her mother relaxed considerably, smiling as well.
“I’ll go pack a quick bag, then.” She said, turning to leave. Her parents turned their backs on her, conversing in low tones as she walked off. As she passed the trash bin, she noticed something. A piece of paper that was shredded but still had legible writing on it. She deserves our traditions. You kept her from us, but we have every right to correct your mistake.
Her eyes widened and she glanced back at her parents before grabbing it, hiding it in her sleeve as she walked past. As soon as she closed her bedroom door, she dropped onto her desk chair, putting the strip of paper down to read it again. The words rang in her head over and over, and her mind spun. What’s going on?
Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Father and Mother's speech - #84774d
NOTES:Part 3 of SoloWORD COUNT: 814/200 wordsIC date: 9th July, 2025To be continued in next Solo