Chapter 38

Long time no see!

I realize it has been quite awhile since I've updated this fanfiction. I've had so many things going on in 2021 (for example, working 40 hour work weeks), and now I'm back in school.

I'm so sorry I've kept you guys waiting so long for an update. But to my readers who are still here and reading this right now -- I genuinely appreciate you so much. I wouldn't be at this point with my account and stories if it weren't for you all.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! I suggest re-reading a few of the other chapters a little bit to refresh your memories <3

***

Zoe

The room is still dark when my eyes drift open. Blaise -- who lies beside me, still submerged in deep sleep -- is the first thought on my mind.

I'm lying with my back towards him, his arms folded in a loose grasp around my body. One of his hands is pressed against my stomach, his thumb resting just above my belly button.

The rhythmic sound of his breath, the feeling of it unfurling softly against my neck, makes me want to drift right back into a peaceful sleep beside him. But I know I can't -- I have things to do, business to take care of, tasks to cross off on my very important checklist.

I sent my grandpa a letter yesterday, and it's quite possible that he's already responded.

A brown barn owl had flown off in the early hours of Saturday morning with my message, and if my assumptions are correct, the bird should've arrived last night.

I know that if he's received my letter, my grandpa wouldn't waste any time in writing back to me. He's reliable like that.

Anxious to see if the owl has returned with his response yet, I decide to slide out from Blaise's arms and make my way up to the owlrey.

Once I've tip-toed across the room to his door, I steal one last glance back at him, my hand resting on the brass knob.

He doesn't look particularly peaceful.

He's still -- no muscle in motion. His features are wound tightly with stress and frustration. His lips are parted, pushing out heavy breaths, and his eyelids are tense and creased, as though something unsettling is playing out behind them.

I swallow uneasily. Is he having a bad dream?

He looks to be in a deep sleep -- one that he won't wake from for at least several hours.

I decide to leave him be for now and journey up to the owlrey as I'd planned. If I hurry, it will take me a half an hour at most. Hopefully, I'll be back before he wakes.

***

My dear Zoe,

I should tell you that I hurt myself while working about a week ago. I'm having trouble doing things on my own here, and I really need you to come home and help me for a few days.

I know I shouldn't be asking you to leave school, but this is necessary. Your Aunt has gone on a trip overseas, so I'm all alone here.

It's important that you come home right now, Zoe, as soon as you can. I won't ask you to stay for long, but this is urgent.

I'll be waiting for you.

From, Grandpa Abraham

My knuckles turn white as I grasp the piece of paper on which my grandpa's letter is written.

He's hurt himself? And how? Why didn't he tell me how?

This isn't like him -- it isn't like him at all. The jolly, uplifting tone that his voice normally carries has vanished like a wisp of smoke, and in its place stand words that are lifeless and vague.

And to not even ask, but insist for me to come home? The man has spent years saving up money for me to go to Hogwarts, thrilled at the prospect of his only adopted daughter becoming something extraordinary. He'd never ask me to leave in the middle of the school year, unless something was wrong -- really wrong.

A strong fist of panic coils around my throat, squeezing and squeezing until I can barely breathe.

Whatever happened to him, it must've been bad -- probably even worse than he's letting on.

I fumble my way back down the spiral staircase, not wasting any time to write out a response for him; I plan on arriving back home in Copenhagen before any owl could.

I steer right on the main floor of the castle.

When I think of how to leave the castle grounds, unseen by my peers or professors, and make it home by sundown, only one idea comes to mind, and it involves none other than my best friend Eric.

I'm headed straight for the Hufflepuff common room, where I know I might find him. Although I've never been inside it myself, I know the common room is somewhere between a large painting of a pear and the Hogwarts kitchens. Eric once told me a large stack of barrels marks the way inside.

Thankfully, it only takes me a few minutes to stumble across the barrels. A wave of relief crashes through me as I realize I'm in the right spot.

Just as I lean down to inspect the wooden crates, looking for a clue as to how I might get in, they roll apart, and something hard and round smacks against my head.

"Agh!" I bounce backwards, my temple pulsing with pain.

"Will you watch where you're! -- wait, Zoe?"

I glance upwards, surprised to hear the sound of my own name.

Eric stands before me, irritation fading from his expression as he realizes who he's talking to. He must've been trying to get out of the common room when I bumped into him.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have been such a bitch had I known it was you."

"It's alright, Eric. But I actually need to talk to you -- that's why I'm here."

I glance around quickly, making sure no one is close enough to overhear what I'm about to say.

"Listen -- my grandpa sent me a letter this morning, and I don't think he's doing well. Like, something seems wrong with him. Really wrong. He said he...hurt himself...and he needs me home as soon as possible."

I find it hard to get the words out through the stiff lump forming in my throat.

Eric claps a hand to his mouth softly. "What? You're kidding -- how did he hurt himself?"

"I don't know, for some reason he barely told me anything." I say. "And I'm not kidding. I'm being serious -- very serious. I need to get home today, and as soon as possible. Please, tell me there's something you can do to help me."

Eric bites his lip, unsure. "I don't know, it can be tricky to sneak off the Hogwarts grounds without a professor noticing. And if you got caught, well, I don't even want to think about what would happen then -- "

"I don't care." I say. I mean it. "I don't care. I need to get there. I have to. I can't leave him, Eric, you know I can't. And my aunt is gone, too -- did I mention that? She just up and left. She's not even making an effort to take care of him."

"That skank." Eric says beneath his breath, his voice bitter.

This time, he's the one to look around to make sure no one is listening.

"Listen, I would normally never recommend you do this, because it's not the safest option, but I do have something that could get you home by tonight."

"Tell me." I say eagerly, my heart feeling weak and thin in my chest. "I'll do it."

"In my fourth year, I was dating a guy that went to Beauxbatons. We couldn't see each other over the school year at first, but on Christmas day, he sent me a broom that'd been charmed to allow its rider to leave protected grounds without being caught. But if you're going to use it, you HAVE to be careful, Zoe. Sometimes when an object has been spelled too much, it can act really wacky  --"

"I don't care." I say. I've already made up my mind. "Just bring it to me."

***

Thirty minutes later, I'm at the edge of the forbidden forest, one leg on either side of Eric's charmed broom.

The dark trees tower above me, swaying back and forth as though shaking their heads in disapproval of my plan.

I gulp down my fear, which had been rising in my throat like bile.

What will I find when I go home? Will my grandpa be bedridden, bloodied? Will his limbs be tied up in bandages? Or could it be something worse?

I think about Blaise, and how he always leaves the school grounds secretly. He's likely been getting away with it for years. Surely, I can too.

Oh no -- Blaise.

I'd never gone back to him this morning. He'd probably woken up alone, and knowing him, immediately worried about where I'd gone.

I can't think about this now, though. I know Blaise -- he'll ask Eric where I've gone, and Eric will tell him the truth -- right?

I catch my thoughts before they can scramble too far out of control, and focus my attention on the sky above. The broomstick is shaking quietly beneath me, as though it, too, is scared.

Not wanting to waste any more time in getting back home, I kick a foot against the grass, propelling myself high into the clouds above Hogwarts.

***

When I get to Copenhagen, I touch down right in the middle of the cobblestone street on which my grandpa lives. I'm not worried about being seen by muggles -- my priorities lie elsewhere right now.

Luckily for me, the area is somewhat of a ghost town -- there's not another human being in sight. I find this odd -- the quaint little street is usually bustling with shoppers from dawn until dusk. 

My heart swoons at the sight of the tiny brick building I grew up in. My grandpa's shop -- Baby's Flowers -- has two stories.

The one on bottom is cheerful and inviting, drawing in passerby shoppers with fresh smells and vibrant colors that are visible through the wide glass doors.

My grandpa's flat is on the second story.

It looks plain and unassuming from the outside -- a stranger may expect it to be filled with cobwebs and dust -- but I know better.

For me, the second story means much more. It's where my Grandpa and I had movie nights when I was 6, sharing a bowl of popcorn and ice cream as the television light danced across our faces, until inevitably, I fell asleep on his shoulder. It's where we sat on the porch at night as I grew older, trying to see which of us could find the brightest star in the sky. It's where he wiped my tears, smiled at the sound of my laughter, and applauded me when I made him proud.

It's where I grew up.

More importantly, though, it's where my grandpa is right now -- and he's wounded and completely alone.

I snap out of my warm and gooey nostalgia, the present situation rearing itself in my mind like a wild horse.

Right now is not the time for reminiscing; I need to get myself inside and upstairs.

I step out of the cool breeze and into the flower shop.

It's dark and quiet inside.

I reach for the light switch, which I know to be right beside the door.

On, off. On, off.

But nothing. The overhead lights must've died; no matter how many times I flip the switch, the natural light trickling in through the glass windows remains the only light in the room.

I take a step forward, my body feeling strangely stiff. A floorboard creaks loudly beneath my toes.

"Grandpa?" I call out, my voice piercing through the silence. "I'm home!"

I wait a few seconds, hoping for a response. It doesn't come.

Maybe he's just too tired, or too weak to yell back to me.

I make my way across the shadowy room and towards the back office, where I know the stairs to the second story are located.

It's odd to see the shop this deserted -- normally, it's filled with customers, and of course the sound of my grandpa's contagious laughter.

When I reach the landing at the top of the stairs, I hesitate for a moment.

I'm scared of what I might see when I find him. I've always known him to be a strong, jolly, and hopeful man. Right now, though, he may be the complete opposite -- a mere shell of his normal self. I'm not sure how to handle that. Somehow, though, I have to find a way.

I take a deep breath, my heartbeat quickening as if trying to prepare me for what lies ahead. I reach for the door handle, twist, and pull.

I scream.

***

Hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter up within a week or so!

Thank you all :)