Wish Upon A Star (Cont.)

Catastrophe 2

They sat there, listening to any movement downstairs.

Two hours later, Ashlyn was sitting on the edge of her bed, straining her ears trying to listen, Draco was lying on her bed, trying the Patronus charm, when they heard a door closing downstairs.

Ashlyn jumped to her feet and rushed to open the door. She made sure she was disillusioned and she went downstairs.

The sweet smell of morning coffee and bread wafted towards as she slipped into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the table, yawning as he read the newspaper. Her mother was the bustling with a pot of coffee, looking as bright as always. Ashlyn wanted to let them know that she was there, but she'd have time for it later.

Then she realised, she had forgotten about Draco. Oh, dear.

She tiptoed outside and then bumped into something.

"Ash?" came the whisper. Ashlyn let out an inaudible sigh and grabbed his arm, then pulling out her wand in an upward flourish over them.

Then she lifted her charm.

"You can speak now," she said and they crept into the kitchen. Never had she been more glad that the kitchen door was open.

They waited in the corner as the Clarkes had their breakfast talking about various things, and then the topic came to their daughter.

"I wish Ashlyn would send a letter," he mum sighed.

"You know their post doesn't work in our way," Mr Clarke said looking over his cup.

"Yes, but she could send her owl," Mrs Clarke pointed out.

"You are terrified of that bird," her husband said matter of factly. Mrs Clarke didn't have anything to argue back with so she changed the subject.

"I hope she is having fun,"

"Of course she is," Mr Clarke said flipping a page of his newspaper.

Ashlyn felt moved. She hadn't once thought about sending them a letter, but she was always on their minds. Gosh, she was such a terrible daughter.

"I'm starting to think she's actually believing your nonsense," Mrs Clarke mused.

Mr Clarke snorted. "Which one?"

"Oh, that one, about no boyfriends," Mrs Clarke said sounding rather disappointed. "Why would you even say that?"

"She's too young," Mr Clarke said sternly.

"She's eighteen," Mrs Clarke reminded. "At this rate, she might as well become a nun in the church,"

Ashlyn shook with silent giggles.

"I don't mind," Mr Clarke said shrugging.

"Really," Mrs Clarke shook her head in exasperation.

"She's too young. I don't want to some random buffoon to come along and break her heart," Mr Clarke said.

"Awww," Ashlyn sighed, smiling.

"It's a part of growing up," Mrs Clakre said matter-of-factly. "She needs to experience new things. You'd let her play that atrociously dangerous game with brooms fifty feet in the air, but not this?"

"She is still my little girl," Mr Clarke said with an air of finality as though it settled the matter.

"And one day she'll become someone's lover, someone's wife, someone's mother, grandmother, great grandmother," Mrs Clarke argued.