11 Sep 2018, 17:52
Two Inches Taller
August 2018, Summer Break
Derby, UK - Kovacs Residence
THERE was a gentle scratching above his head, a pencil steadily held by a pair of calloused fingers that drew a paper thin line. His back was pressed against a foreign doorframe, one that he wasn’t so used to anymore. But this was home, it was supposed to feel like home and it did. “Done.” His dad’s voice was graveled like the pavement outside and as deep as the ocean blue, he almost wasn't used to it.
“YOU'VE grown.” The forest green eyes glanced up, filled with an unsaid exhaustion that his parents couldn’t yet understand. “How much?” the young boy asked. The heavy hand gently laid itself on his head, a motion that sent his head bobbing slightly. “Two inches, Reid. Except for your hair, which you couldn’t get cut I assume.”
“I think it looks wonderful on him.” Her voice rang like a bell, clear as day and sweet as ever. His placid expression grew into a simple smile, his hand hanging limply as it held his worn backpack. The luggage he brought from Hogwarts sat near the door, untouched since the minute he came here. There was no use in unpacking it, he would be gone in the next twenty-eight days after all.
“REID?” His gaze broke as his father called him, seeming concerned at how his son stood there for so long. The Hufflepuff cracked a smile, “Sorry dad, been a long ride. Almost time for dinner, innit?”
“RIGHT you are, come, come.” The boy dropped his backpack on the floor, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as he walked towards the kitchen. Pictures hung in the entrance of his home, his mum and dad with him in all of them. Nothing changed, it all stayed the same. He reminisced the sound of footsteps against the wooden floor, the same hollow beat. It was the same furniture, the same corner he used to bang his feet into when he ran, and the same sounds that came for supper time.
IN the kitchen, he was met with his parents, a cake, and the food that his mother surely made for him. A foolish grin grew from his smile, his hand coming up to stiffly rub his elbow. “We missed your birthday since you stayed over for summer at Hogwarts.” his mum spoke. His dad pulled the chair from the table to let him sit. “We still wanted to celebrate it with you when you got home.”
DESPITE them being his parents, Reid still looked quite flattered by the gesture. “I mean, I didn’t celebrate it at school so this is actually my first sort of ‘party’.”
HIS mother seemed surprised by his answer as he sat himself down. “Your friends didn’t celebrate with you?”
REID waved his hand slightly, “No, no. They wouldn’t do something like that mum. I just never bothered to um - mention what date it would be.” His father looked amused, sitting beside his mother at the dining table. “Why's that?”
THE boy shrugged with a side glance. “I’m too embarrassed to ask people to celebrate my birthday. What if they think it’s lame?” A soft laugh came from his mother, realizing how much Reid suddenly began caring about his peer’s opinion of him. “Lame? You don’t know until you try.”
REID mumbled as he swiped some cream off of the cake. “Maybe. I only have a few friends in my house, maybe one. I think she’d be the only one to come.”
“WHAT house was he in again? Huff …”
“HUFFLEPUFF.” his mother answered. His dad nodded, “Hufflepuff. They’re the nice house, right?”
HIS mum rolled his eyes. “All of them are nice.” Reid pursed his lips, taking another swipe at the pastry in front of him. “Well, I don’t know about that.” His mother frowned, folding her hands in front of her to rest her chin on her curled knuckles. “Did someone bully you?”
BEFORE he had the chance to answer, his father stepped in. “Bully you? That doesn’t sound like something you's let someone do.”
“I wasn’t bullied.” Reid defended, grimacing at the idea. Wasn't he? He didn’t know, he ended up in the infirmary three times, none of them from a student. Life was the only thing bullying him. “I was hoping you would get into that 'other house' actually.”
“JOSEF, not this again please.” His father looked slightly annoyed. “What? I’m just saying -”
“WHAT 'other house'?” There was a suspicion in the twelve-year old's voice. A slight pause rang, the boy stared at his father with an anxious gaze. “The brave one.”
“I think it looks wonderful on him.” Her voice rang like a bell, clear as day and sweet as ever. His placid expression grew into a simple smile, his hand hanging limply as it held his worn backpack. The luggage he brought from Hogwarts sat near the door, untouched since the minute he came here. There was no use in unpacking it, he would be gone in the next twenty-eight days after all.
“REID?” His gaze broke as his father called him, seeming concerned at how his son stood there for so long. The Hufflepuff cracked a smile, “Sorry dad, been a long ride. Almost time for dinner, innit?”
“RIGHT you are, come, come.” The boy dropped his backpack on the floor, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as he walked towards the kitchen. Pictures hung in the entrance of his home, his mum and dad with him in all of them. Nothing changed, it all stayed the same. He reminisced the sound of footsteps against the wooden floor, the same hollow beat. It was the same furniture, the same corner he used to bang his feet into when he ran, and the same sounds that came for supper time.
IN the kitchen, he was met with his parents, a cake, and the food that his mother surely made for him. A foolish grin grew from his smile, his hand coming up to stiffly rub his elbow. “We missed your birthday since you stayed over for summer at Hogwarts.” his mum spoke. His dad pulled the chair from the table to let him sit. “We still wanted to celebrate it with you when you got home.”
DESPITE them being his parents, Reid still looked quite flattered by the gesture. “I mean, I didn’t celebrate it at school so this is actually my first sort of ‘party’.”
HIS mother seemed surprised by his answer as he sat himself down. “Your friends didn’t celebrate with you?”
REID waved his hand slightly, “No, no. They wouldn’t do something like that mum. I just never bothered to um - mention what date it would be.” His father looked amused, sitting beside his mother at the dining table. “Why's that?”
THE boy shrugged with a side glance. “I’m too embarrassed to ask people to celebrate my birthday. What if they think it’s lame?” A soft laugh came from his mother, realizing how much Reid suddenly began caring about his peer’s opinion of him. “Lame? You don’t know until you try.”
REID mumbled as he swiped some cream off of the cake. “Maybe. I only have a few friends in my house, maybe one. I think she’d be the only one to come.”
“WHAT house was he in again? Huff …”
“HUFFLEPUFF.” his mother answered. His dad nodded, “Hufflepuff. They’re the nice house, right?”
HIS mum rolled his eyes. “All of them are nice.” Reid pursed his lips, taking another swipe at the pastry in front of him. “Well, I don’t know about that.” His mother frowned, folding her hands in front of her to rest her chin on her curled knuckles. “Did someone bully you?”
BEFORE he had the chance to answer, his father stepped in. “Bully you? That doesn’t sound like something you's let someone do.”
“I wasn’t bullied.” Reid defended, grimacing at the idea. Wasn't he? He didn’t know, he ended up in the infirmary three times, none of them from a student. Life was the only thing bullying him. “I was hoping you would get into that 'other house' actually.”
“JOSEF, not this again please.” His father looked slightly annoyed. “What? I’m just saying -”
“WHAT 'other house'?” There was a suspicion in the twelve-year old's voice. A slight pause rang, the boy stared at his father with an anxious gaze. “The brave one.”
AN audible groan came from his mother. “It doesn’t matter what house he’s in, he’s in a good house. You don’t need to hope for anything.” His dad looked offended and his mother looked just as equally so. Reid couldn’t help but frown, this was something he’s never truly seen from either of them.
“THEY'RE a nice house, but you said it yourself, they can be picked on easily. I just didn’t want -” His mother’s mouth opened in protest. “I did not say that! I said, back then, when I was at Hogwarts - that was the case. I did not say that would be the case now.” Her voice was firm, seemingly trying to defend her words.
REID awkwardly sank into his chair, his hand inching towards the forgotten cake knife. If he served the cake, perhaps this would just stop. “I just don’t want anyone thinking he’s weak and picking on him. A boy his age? I had to defend myself then. But I was part of a strong group of friends. If Reid doesn’t have -”
FROM the depths of his chest surged an anger, something that burned and was now just dumped with kerosene. Did his dad think he was weak? The boy was up to his wits after being doubted so many times.It caused him to shoot up, the chair under him made an unholy screech. “I’m not weak dad! I’ve never been bullied and I don’t plan to. My house -”
“THEY'RE a nice house, but you said it yourself, they can be picked on easily. I just didn’t want -” His mother’s mouth opened in protest. “I did not say that! I said, back then, when I was at Hogwarts - that was the case. I did not say that would be the case now.” Her voice was firm, seemingly trying to defend her words.
REID awkwardly sank into his chair, his hand inching towards the forgotten cake knife. If he served the cake, perhaps this would just stop. “I just don’t want anyone thinking he’s weak and picking on him. A boy his age? I had to defend myself then. But I was part of a strong group of friends. If Reid doesn’t have -”
FROM the depths of his chest surged an anger, something that burned and was now just dumped with kerosene. Did his dad think he was weak? The boy was up to his wits after being doubted so many times.It caused him to shoot up, the chair under him made an unholy screech. “I’m not weak dad! I’ve never been bullied and I don’t plan to. My house -”
“REID.” He looked over at his mother, her eyes pleading him to relax. The boy slowly sank back down into his seat, his eyes slightly downcasted. His dad looked stunned, he certainly has never heard his son raise his voice all of a sudden. Even the culprit suddenly felt shame, it was the first time he's ever yelled at his parents and it wasn't a good feeling.
HE didn't understand what got him so worked up, perhaps it was just a long day. The older man’s gaze softened, feeling the woman’s hand on his arm as he realized how he made the young boy feel. “I’m sorry, Reid. I was just saying.” The boy relaxed, his feet nervously tapping the floor beneath. “Didn’t mean to yell, sorry dad.”
HIS mother grimaced, sighing as she pushed the cake towards him. “Before you eat it already, why don’t you blow out the candles?” Reid let her light the candles, and the conversation slowly dulled back into normalcy between the lot of them. The cake was sliced into, a simple marble cake with the words that said ‘Happy Birthday Reid’ on it. The feeling he had before was replaced with an ease, anything sweet soothed the soul.
BY the time they were through, the unfinished cake was put to the side and the plates were cleaned up. He was tasked with putting the leftovers away as his dad went to go sleep, he was left with his mum in the kitchen. Reid haphazardly folded the mats, looking up to see his mum washing the dishes. He chose his next words carefully as he placed the mats in the drawer.
“WHY don’t we invite your family?” His mum looked up from the sink, looking a little surprised by the question. “Invite them to … ?”
WITH a casual shrug of his shoulders, he replied, “Just anything really, like my birthday for example. It’d be nice to have um - people. Dad’s family is nice, gran is nice. But I don’t know anyone from your side, mum.” Reid sat down at the table, gently tapping it as he watched his mother continue washing the dishes.
“IT'S a bit complicated really.” Reid folded his arms on the table, resting his head on the bundled arms. “Are they mean?” The faucet stopped, a gentle dripping hitting the lined sink.
“NO, it’s just - we’re not as close as you’d think. They’re not mean but … they’re not very nice people either.” Her mothers words signaled a struggle, a tone he would never understand till he was most likely older. Her past and his future were A deafening silence fell between the two of them as the seated boy watches his mother put the plates away. “Since they’re wizards too, do they like me?”
EDITH pulled away from the sink, wiping her hands with a tender smile on her features. She slowly strode over, “They don’t know you yet.”
REID'S gaze downcasted slightly, glancing up only as his mum cupped his face, giving his cheek a slight squeeze. “They don’t know? Why?” His mother seemed tired, though Reid was always the type to pester his parents about one thing to no end. He didn’t understand, they didn’t know he even existed? “Complicated, love.”
“BUT I want to meet them, mum.” His mother’s features sank, the topic draining her of any energy she had left. There was no amount of heart in her to tell him that they might not want to meet him, that he would not be as welcomed as he might think. “Someday, when you’re older, you’ll understand.” she lied.
“I’M older now…” His gaze trailed.
“OLDER, older.” Her tone seemed firm, dancing between amusement and a serious tact in her voice. “Off to bed you go, go.” She shooed him away, watching as he clambered up the steps looking quite dejected at the lack of information. He sighed, slumping his shoulders as he went upstairs. “Pick up your feet, Reid” he heard.
THE boy stopped stomping, heading into his bedroom where he threw himself into the arms of his blueish sheets. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar smell, and everything in between. His room was where it was before, stuck in time from the day he left it last September. The boy frowned as he curled up in his sheets, not bothering to change.
SOMETHING stuck with him, prompting him to crack his eye open and stare out of his window. His expression slowly sank, his fingers curled themselves into the fresh sheets and his breathing deepened. This was home, yet he didn’t have such a strong reaction as he did before when he first left.
AT the beginning of his first year, he was afraid of slowly growing accustomed to not missing home. Yet he came to the painful realization that he already had stopped missing it entirely; he stopped missing the world without magic. Reid closed his eyes, too tired to burden himself with such thoughts.
HIS mother grimaced, sighing as she pushed the cake towards him. “Before you eat it already, why don’t you blow out the candles?” Reid let her light the candles, and the conversation slowly dulled back into normalcy between the lot of them. The cake was sliced into, a simple marble cake with the words that said ‘Happy Birthday Reid’ on it. The feeling he had before was replaced with an ease, anything sweet soothed the soul.
BY the time they were through, the unfinished cake was put to the side and the plates were cleaned up. He was tasked with putting the leftovers away as his dad went to go sleep, he was left with his mum in the kitchen. Reid haphazardly folded the mats, looking up to see his mum washing the dishes. He chose his next words carefully as he placed the mats in the drawer.
“WHY don’t we invite your family?” His mum looked up from the sink, looking a little surprised by the question. “Invite them to … ?”
WITH a casual shrug of his shoulders, he replied, “Just anything really, like my birthday for example. It’d be nice to have um - people. Dad’s family is nice, gran is nice. But I don’t know anyone from your side, mum.” Reid sat down at the table, gently tapping it as he watched his mother continue washing the dishes.
“IT'S a bit complicated really.” Reid folded his arms on the table, resting his head on the bundled arms. “Are they mean?” The faucet stopped, a gentle dripping hitting the lined sink.
“NO, it’s just - we’re not as close as you’d think. They’re not mean but … they’re not very nice people either.” Her mothers words signaled a struggle, a tone he would never understand till he was most likely older. Her past and his future were A deafening silence fell between the two of them as the seated boy watches his mother put the plates away. “Since they’re wizards too, do they like me?”
EDITH pulled away from the sink, wiping her hands with a tender smile on her features. She slowly strode over, “They don’t know you yet.”
REID'S gaze downcasted slightly, glancing up only as his mum cupped his face, giving his cheek a slight squeeze. “They don’t know? Why?” His mother seemed tired, though Reid was always the type to pester his parents about one thing to no end. He didn’t understand, they didn’t know he even existed? “Complicated, love.”
“BUT I want to meet them, mum.” His mother’s features sank, the topic draining her of any energy she had left. There was no amount of heart in her to tell him that they might not want to meet him, that he would not be as welcomed as he might think. “Someday, when you’re older, you’ll understand.” she lied.
“I’M older now…” His gaze trailed.
“OLDER, older.” Her tone seemed firm, dancing between amusement and a serious tact in her voice. “Off to bed you go, go.” She shooed him away, watching as he clambered up the steps looking quite dejected at the lack of information. He sighed, slumping his shoulders as he went upstairs. “Pick up your feet, Reid” he heard.
THE boy stopped stomping, heading into his bedroom where he threw himself into the arms of his blueish sheets. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar smell, and everything in between. His room was where it was before, stuck in time from the day he left it last September. The boy frowned as he curled up in his sheets, not bothering to change.
SOMETHING stuck with him, prompting him to crack his eye open and stare out of his window. His expression slowly sank, his fingers curled themselves into the fresh sheets and his breathing deepened. This was home, yet he didn’t have such a strong reaction as he did before when he first left.
AT the beginning of his first year, he was afraid of slowly growing accustomed to not missing home. Yet he came to the painful realization that he already had stopped missing it entirely; he stopped missing the world without magic. Reid closed his eyes, too tired to burden himself with such thoughts.
"Trouble usually finds me."