That One October {T.M.R}

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

"I was just looking, that's all." Vivian said.

George narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? What for?"

She frowned. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

She was quiet.

"Fine." He paused, "Let's go into the kitchen."

She followed him as far as the living room but stopped by the front door. He continued to walk but once he sensed her no longer behind him, he turned around.

"I had better leave." She told him.

George's features shifted slightly as if trying to contain something. "Must you? You don't have to stay for a long while, we could just eat apple cake and talk."

Vivian wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Talk?" She scoffed, "Talk about what?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It's been five years, I'm sure there's something."

Her eyes moved from the door and back to him. Something in her wanted to know more about the boy and willed her to go with him. Perhaps it was the sense of familiarity he and the orphanage gave her. It was a sprinkle of her old life and the part of her that was still wounded from its tragic end wanted to indulge in it completely.

The other part of her, the one very much opposed to the idea of conversing further with Sloan, urged her to leave immediately.

But, after a few moments, it was the sad eleven-year-old in her that won.

"Alright." Vivian finally said, moving to enter the kitchen.

George gave her a cheeky smile, obviously pleased that she had given in.

The kitchen was, unlike the rest of the building, not exactly how the girl remembered it.

A new oven had been placed against the wall, and though not much better looking than the first, it was hopeful that it worked better. The sink was cracked down the middle and a bucket lay underneath it to catch the leaking water. A large stack of paper laid on one of the counters, likely a pile of ration books— England was rationing its food due to the Muggles' second world war; an effort to ensure fair distribution of supplies during a national shortage.

Vivian furrowed her brows at the sight of two small dishes on the floor.

"Why do you have those there?" She wondered, stepping aside to let a running child pass.

George glanced around, seemingly looking for something. "Holly! Holly, come here, girl!"

A few moments passed before a little white cat came trotting through the doorway.

The cat rubbed against its owner and meowed once scooped into his arms.

The boy grinned. "My cat, Holly, eats from those."

Vivian was quite shocked, having never expected Sloan to enjoy animals. How had he managed to convince the matrons to let him keep it?

She put her hand out for the cat to sniff and it nudged her before jumping to the floor and pawing at a fly that had been trapped in a window.

"I found her in town." George explained, "I was running an errand for Ms. Woodard when—"

An exhausted voice interrupted him. "George, why isn't your room clean? I asked you to do it before you boys went outside."

A woman with rosy cheeks entered, her friendly eyes landing on Vivian.

"Who is this?" She asked confusedly.