All Just a Memory

All Just a Memory

Her soft green eyes were looking in the direction of the window; her small frail body perched on the measuring table. Her mother and her grandmother had cut and measured countless fabrics on that table, fabrics of bright cheerful colours and dark shimmering blends, some of which could seduce the soul and capture the heart. The fabric shop had been built on the outskirts of Hogsmeade in 1638 with hopes for the flourishing town and an increase in business.

But her mind was not on the history of the petite shop, it was concentrating on the dusty window which held a humble sign reading, "Lady's Magical Silks." Past the sign fat snowflakes were falling and the white laden ground reflected the suns rays, so as to make one think it was a beautiful winter day.

A couple ran by, hand in hand; their cloaks billowing out behind them and their crests marking them as Hogwarts students. 'The school must be having a weekend in Hogsmeade, most likely in preparation for Christmas,' she thought, not taking much interest.

It was the snow that had caught her attention as she walked by the window earlier; the large snowflakes reminded her so vividly of a day in the past and a pair of mittens which lay buried in a box. A small sigh escaped her lips and the green eyes widened at the sound in the silent shop. She shook her head and sighed again, this time louder.

Her gaze was still fixed on the snow, but she lifted herself off the table and headed around to the counter which was scratched and worn from long use. Reaching for a water jug and glass she noticed that the pitcher was empty. Her delicate hand headed for the wand which she knew lay in the second drawer of the counter. The hand paused on the handle. It had been so long since she had used a wand. Her family had not believed in using magic to do trivial things and that training came into play here. She pulled her hand away. 'This had to happen today,' she thought, 'today of all days.' Her mother had never bothered to install running water in the old building; she smiled a ghost of a grin.

Her steps were heavy on the wooden floor; she grabbed a long brown cloak and threw it over her dark green robes. She pulled on a pair of gloves and wrapped a dull scarf around her neck. The bright day would have looked inviting but she knew the sun would fool you and the cold could bite.

Opening the door, she stepped out into the day. Her figure looked as if it were not part of this time, observing the surroundings but not comprehending them.

She walked down the side road where the shop stood and onto the main street, most of the excitement of a Hogsmeade weekend took place here. Students were calling 'Merry Christmas' to one another across the road; some were emerging from shops with smiles on their faces and hands weighed down by bags, others were just leaving The Three Broomsticks with full stomachs.

She ignored them and walked straight to the end of the road. A small hill was here and a broken wooden fence. She paused, stroking her gloved hand across the surface. Her pale green eyes were content on the wood and a sad smile played on her lips.

A group of fifth year students were throwing snowballs up on the hill and their shrieks caught her attention. There were four of them, all with thick scarves and toques on, their cheeks red from the cold. Someone missed and a snowball sailed through the air. She watched it explode on one of the fence posts. Lifting herself up, she sat on the fence facing the group. If any of the students thought it strange they had an audience, none of them voiced it. The scene that played before her eyes though was not of four students, playing in the snow.

She saw a girl, about the age of sixteen, sitting halfway up the hill. Snowflakes landed on the girls strawberry blonde hair and melted against her warm body. A package lay beside her, wrapped in dark green and silver paper. She was busy making snowballs with her bare hands; a pile already lay beside her.

A boy was sneaking up behind her; he was about eighteen years old and considered himself a man. When he was three feet away he pegged her in the head with a ball of snow. A grin spread across the girls face. She was prepared; with a ball of snow in her hand she swung around and hit him in the stomach. She jumped up and hit him again, straight in the face.

"Hey! Hey! No fair!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. When he smiled he had the look of someone who didn't do it often.

"Oh and you sneaking up behind me is?" The girl asked in a mock teasing voice. They were both happy to see each other, their eyes were soft and neither could stop smiling.

"Let me see your hands," he said, changing the subject. He sat down and gestured for her to follow. She seated herself beside the package and looked up at him, confused. "You should have gloves on, it's freezing out today." He was still grinning, but her eyes hardened.

"I've already told you..." she said, becoming defensive and pulling her hands away from his warm grasp.

"I know, I know," he said, smiling. "I've got something for you." That's when he pulled out a pair of bright red mittens.

A tear ran down the figures face as she sat watching on the fence.

"Made them myself," he handed them over to her and she looked at them in amazement. They were the big fluffy sort, made out of soft wool. When she pulled them on her hands were instantly warm, he had put a charm on them. One mitten was smaller than the other, but she could have cared less, they were perfect.

"Do you like them?" he asked his voice anxious.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. "I have something for you too." She handed him the green and silver package. "You have to wait until Christmas to open it though."

"Oh really?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He took the package and carefully placed it in his cloak pocket. She smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Come here," he said, leaning in closer to her.

"You have the prettiest eyes," he said, close to her mouth. "They're the lightest green I've ever seen." He captured her mouth with his and pulled her closer, but she was grinning against his lips.

While he had been looking into her eyes, she had been grabbing one of her snowballs and was now in the process of shoving it down his shirt.

"Ahhh!" the boy yelled, jumping up and away from her. "Why you little..." he started saying, picking up a ball of snow. She giggled and started running away; snow hit her in the back and head, it fell down into the creases of her cloak. She bent down, picked up more snow and peeked through her legs to see him running towards her. Blindly she threw the snow over her shoulder and continued running. Her cheeks were bright red from the cold and her mouth was curved into a smile.

"Don't," the figure whispered, watching on the fence. Another tear ran down her cheek. "Don't..."

The girl spun around, her face still aglow. Her eyes began to widen though and the horror in them was clear. She saw the boy before her.

"Watch out!!" she shrieked her red mittened hands balled into fists. A flash of bright green light reflected in the girls pale eyes before she could shut them. Her mind did not believe what she saw.

The girl was running now, past the fence and out of sight, not a tear down her face.

The figure could not see the four students properly, her vision was blurred. She was standing now, her boots buried in snow and her hands in pockets.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking to stop her tears. "I'm so sorry."

Her boots crunched on the hard snow as she walked back to the shop. She had given in and was now crying steadily; the tears not freely flowing but dripping down in a slow and painful beat.

There was a clang of bells as she opened the door to her home. She gave a small shudder and wiped her face, not bothering to take off her outdoor clothes. She had forgotten her reason for leaving.

Her arms shook as she grabbed the rolling ladder, in the old days it had been used to reach fabrics on the tall shelves; it was strange now to see one in a modern day shop. At the top of the shelves there was a white cardboard box. It had no markings, but she knew what it held.

She reached for it and then carefully climbed down the ladder. Timidly, she lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of bright red mittens, their colour had not faded. She pulled off her gloves and reached for the mittens. They had lost most of their magic, but were still soft and beautiful.

Slowly she pulled them on. The warmth of fond memories began to surround her, she closed her eyes and a pleasant glow encompassed her thoughts. Her body relaxed.

Through the dusty window of the shop her figure could be seen, soft mittens on her hands and a teary smile on her face.

Outside the fat snowflakes still fell steadily and the white ground shone bright.