ghost stories - h. potter

0.1

"Don't be afraid to come home at any point if you need to, okay? I'm only a letter away," Collete said, tucking another unruly curl behind her daughter's ear and Belle mustered up a small smile with whatever strength she had left.

"I know, Mum," Belle replied softly.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" It was Belle's turn to worry about her mother who would be home by herself for the first time in over a year, but Collette simply nodded her head.

"I'll be fine. Heavens knows I've got enough to deal with at the Ministry, not to mention taking care of those damn cats of ours." Belle laughed quietly, a small, foreign sound that Collette had head only once or twice since the initial war. When the smile faded from her face, she bit down gently on her lip before throwing her arms around her mother and embracing her tightly, not wanting to let go.

"I love you," she whispered softly and Collette squeezed her back just as tightly, not wanting to let go of her youngest daughter. Belle's kitten, Nixie, mewled softly from inside her basket and Collette chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind the feline's ears.

"I'll miss you too, Nixie." The black cat purred happily in response, her eyes closed in delight. Belle pulled away at the sound of a soft gasp from her mother and she looked up, only to see that Collette's eyes were trained solely on one specific part of the platform.

"Belle," Collette whispered, nudging her daughter gently.

"Look who it is." Belle turned her head, only to see Harry Potter, the hero who had saved their world from Voldemort, standing with his two friends, Ron and Hermione as they were surrounded by a group of red-head witches and wizards that Belle knew to be the Weasleys. Belle looked away quickly and forced her mother to do the same.

"Mum, don't stare. I'm sure he gets enough of it wherever he goes," Belle said quietly and Collette turned back to her daughter, a small smile on her face. The worry had certainly aged her youthful face for Belle could see the crinkles in the corner of her eyes when she squinted. Her dark irises themselves had uncertainty etched into them but Belle only pretended not to see, knowing that she was the cause of her mother's stress.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Collette asked and Belle nodded her head just as the train whistle echoed throughout the platform. With a final smile, Belle picked up her trunk and cat basket and waved goodbye to her mother, before she disappeared onto the train and out of sight.

She was pleasantly surprised at the number of people that had returned to Hogwarts that year. Though there definitely weren't as many as there had been the past years she had attended, something she had noticed before, there was still a considerable amount of people that had decided to come back. She found it nice to know that people had hope in Hogwarts returning to the way that it was before the battle had broken out.

Right down the very end of the train, Belle managed to find an empty compartment away from a group of particularly rowdy first-years that were shouting excitedly, and slid inside, closing the door softly behind her.

"It's weird, you know, to see them all standing there without me." Belle jumped at the sudden male voice, causing her to place a hand on her beating heart as she shoved her luggage into the overhead storage space.

"Merlin, Fred," Belle said softly as she took a seat next to Nixie. Her dark, brown eyes slid up to meet the pearly figure of someone who had become one of her closest friends, yet only under the worst circumstances possible.

"You gave me a fright." The translucent red-head gave her a small smile, though it didn't quite meet his eyes as he glanced out the window. Belle followed his gaze, only to see that he was watching Mr and Mrs Weasley - his parents, George - his twin, Bill, Charlie and Percy - his older brothers, and Fleur and Andromeda Tonks wave goodbye to Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry who were boarding the train. Andromeda was holding a small, blue-haired baby in her arms and Belle looked away, knowing exactly whose son it was.