Not a good day Date & Time: 15 September 2002 Post Type: RP Status: Private: Complete Character(s): Hannah Abbott Location: Whitehaven Summary: Hannah visits with her childhood home
She hadn't slept well the night before, which did not surprise Hannah at all. Even after five, no six years now, she still felt the stab over the loss of her mum. Still in bed, Hannah uncurled herself from the ball she rolled herself into during the night as she rubbed her eyes, which felt dry and scratchy. Sliding out of bed, she took a quick shower and got dressed. Hannah rarely asked for time off, just taking it when it worked out in the schedule, except for September 15th; she always took the 15th off to visit Whitehaven. Pulling a thick cable knit jumper over her head, Hannah apparated herself to an alley near a flower stall which stood outside a small food market.
While she did not typically carry muggle money, she had some for that day to purchase flowers. Irises since those were her mum's favorite. After apparating, Hannah walked out of the alley to the flower stall. The same little old man from the previous years was working there. He had been then the first anniversary of her death and he remembered her order. Thanking him for the flowers, Hannah tucked them under her arm and walked to the cemetery.
She walked pass the dress shop her mum worked at for all those years. The window display held three mannequins dressed for the cooler weather, trousers and jumpers; one even wore a rain coat. A memory of walking between all the clothing, her fingers gently touching silk, satin and velvet as a child, her mum scolding her in front of the owner, but winking at her in the end filled her head. Hannah sniffled, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.
Picking up the pace slightly, Hannah focused her eyes on what was ahead of her rather than the buildings and shops that would bring up memories of the past. The place where Elizabeth Abbott was buried was four blocks off the main street next to a church. A large wrought iron fence surrounded the parcel of land. Pushing open the gate, she walked straight to her mum's plot. Hannah could find the headstone in the dark with her eyes closed.
The headstone was small and simple since that was all Hannah could afford. She knelt on the ground, carefully placing the flowers against the piece of stone, her fingers outlining the name etched into it. She let the tears fall down her face with her heart aching with loneliness and longing; Hannah missed her mother terribly. She missing watching her knit or hem a pair of trousers; listening to her aged advice over a meal or the way her mum's arms wrapped around her when she came home from a long year at Hogwarts.
Hannah stayed there for several minutes before wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Standing, she brushed the grass from her knees and slowly walked out of the cemetery. Since she was in Whitehaven, Hannah decided to see the house; the house she grew up in, the house she lost when she couldn't find the money to pay the bills.
The house was too far to walk, but the area was predominately muggle, so she walked to the nearest bus stop. She didn't wait long until the correct bus arrived and took her to her old street. It looked the same as it did every fall before she left to go to Hogwarts. The street was quiet with only one or two autos out; most of the adults were off working and the children were at school. Hannah walked slowly, almost as if she was afraid to see it.
Stopping when she reached the corner, she turned to stare at it for a moment. It was a modest one story house in the shape of a 'L' with two bedrooms. Her was the one that faced the front yard and the oak tree that was so round, Hannah and her mum could barely get their arms around it when they made a circle with their arms. She loved the tree, mainly for the swing her mother put up using magic in the middle of the night, so the neighbors wouldn't see. Hannah woke up on her 5th birthday to see the swing hanging from the tree. Cracking a small smile, Hannah walked up into the old yard over to her swing and sat. She pushed off the ground just a little bit, letting the swing move forward and back.
She closed her eyes, falling into the simple movement. The forward and backward motion help relieve the pain of returning to the house until she heard someone shouting at her.
"Excuse me, get off that swing." The voice was feminine but harsh. Turning, Hannah stumbled over an apology.
"I'm sorry. I used to live –"
"I told you to get off the swing."
"Yes, of course, This was my house. My mum -"
"Well you don't live here anymore, so you need get off my property." The woman crossed her arms over her chest. Again, Hannah apologized and tried to explain, but the woman was having none of it. She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips, threatening to call the authorities.
"Please don't. I'm leaving." Quickly scrambling from the swing, Hannah jogged to the street and began to walk back to the bus stop. Once she was at the end of the street, she looked back and the woman was gone. Having had a brief happy moment on one of the worst days of her whole year, Hannah held back the tears until she found a secluded place where she could apparate back to her flat.
I just wanted to remember a happy time; is that too much to ask?