occurremus iterum

Zinnia closed the door after her new interior designer she hired left. She heard a loud crack behind her in the living room.

Running out of the entryway to the location of the sound she was met by a small, wrinkly ugly house elf.

“Who are you?” She asked it.

“Mistress Black, I am Kreacher.” The elf said bowing so low it’s nose touched the floor.

“What do you want? How did you get here?” They didn’t have house elves in America at least not legally. She had only ever encountered one outside of the Hogwarts kitchens at Draco Malfoy's home in England.

“Mistress Black, I have served the Black family for many decades. Just as my father did before me and his father before him. I am aware that while you live in this free county I am unable to serve you. However, I have come to deliver a message and this parcel.” He held out a small package with a small envelope attached. “Master Regulus instructed me to deliver this to you after your completion of schooling. I was unable to locate you for many months. Please accept my sincerest apologies. “

She took the package. “That’s ok Kreacher. This is from my father?”

He nodded. “You may go.” Kreacher hesitated for a moment but then snapped his fingers, and vanished.

This was from her dad. She flipped it over and inspected it, feeling the walls in her mind cracking and crumbling. She had worked so hard to build those and keep them in place. She could not allow this to open them up again. She tightened her jaw, remembering for a moment what she did to her mothers bedroom door in order to keep her memory out. Out of sight out of mind. She went to locate her wand that was shoved at the back of her own closet and located the door to her mothers room.

“Revelio” she whispered. Feeling silly casting a spell aloud with a wand like it was so foreign and unnatural. The door opened just a crack. She opened it enough and tossed the package into the room, slamming the door shut.

She did her charms to cover the evidence of the room entirely. And worked for the rest of the night on covering the evidence of her parents memory in her mind. Covering the walls she built with charms in her head. Her mind was clear, clean and pure. Any bad thoughts were easy to find and squash, sweeping them under a rug or folding them neatly into a box, into a chest, and then putting it in the floorboards.

There. Now she could sleep.

***

It took 6 months until the penthouse was completed wow Zinnia was thrilled to have no more construction dust flying around or plastic sheets hanging in the place of doorways. It was perfect, it was hers, it was a fresh start. She had been so talented at her occlumency that she was starting to forget a lot more than she even realized. The place was unrecognizable. Hugo stopped over so she could show him the final product.

“Wow! You really made it your own, it is beautiful Z!” He told her, running his hand over the new marble countertops in the kitchen.

“Thanks!! And look, I turned my bedroom into a true master suite, the bathroom is a dream!”

“Beautiful, beautiful. Your mother would be proud.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

“And look at the closet! Look, this turns and this lights up, it's like magic!”

“I have noticed you using your magic less and less Zinnia. Now that you mention the word.”

“Just my wand Hugo. I’m stuck in this place most of the day, I just forget to pick it up. It’s easier without a wand if I’m honest. “

“That is impressive Z. But I really think, now that the construction is complete, we should maybe consider continuing lessons? We can focus on whatever subject you like!”

“That’s ok I hate school. But thanks Hugo. I’m actually going to the Hamptons with some friends next week until the end of summer. I forgot to tell you.”

“Is that a good idea?” Hugo looked at her, shocked almost.

“It’s a great fuckin idea what do you mean?” She had built her walls up so strong that she was starting to forget too much. “Oh yeah no I’ll be fine, no Death Eater is gonna hunt me down in the Hamptons. They’re all too focused on Porter or whatever.”

She didn’t even remember the names. She remembered there was a war stopping her from going back to school but school was over so she didn’t care. The Death Eaters versus the good guys? She didn’t investigate more into her mind. The walls were up, she needn’t risk tearing any down.

She focused on the right now. And right now she wanted to party. To go get drunk in the Hamptons.

Hugo didn’t see the need to share news with her when he got it. He stopped her Daily Prophet subscription and noticed that she was hiding her letter from herself. She stored them in her mother’s old room that she had already hidden with a wine cellar that she added during renovations. She stopped sending any letters out months ago. Hugo never brought anything fro the past up. Unless he had good news, he was determined to keep her happy and ignorant. Dumbledore was dead. He wasn’t sure if he would ever have happy news. He worried about her occlumency walls but she was in survival mode as was anyone. Threats of Voldemort coming to America were stronger than ever and a war was imminent. Hugo wanted her to enjoy her youth, so he tracked her and had their driver keep an eye on her incase she was put in any harm.

***

Zinnia always loved a good party. The friends (no-maj) she had for her whole life in New York always took her to the best ones. She didn’t see them enough anymore when she was away at school in England and she forgot how much fun they had together. Especially now that they are older, more access and freedoms.

Now that she had finished her schooling and her project of renovating her penthouse she was desperate for distractions. They went to Brooklyn underground clubs, upper east side social parties and art gallery openings in Chelsea.

That year was a drunken messy blur. She had successfully disassociated from her past and was only focused on the present. Her rich, party, no-maj lifestyle. She used some spells when it was convenient for her, but never with a wand. She could only imagine the look on Stella and Daltons faces if she would ever pull it out in front of them. No, no wand, it was tucked away somewhere, she hid the vision of where she left it from her conscious mind. She would just use basic manipulation to get what she wanted, read auras to make sure she and her friends didn’t mix with a dangerous person, and of course glamor spells and potions. She didn’t even consider any of that magic, it was intuition, body language, and manifestation. Everyone can do that. Everyone can create a life beyond their wildest dreams.

Until the gap year was coming to an end and Stella and Dalton were going away to university, to go be doctors and lawyers and whatever. She didn’t want to do that. She hated school; she just wanted to party.

So she did. She traveled around the city taking another year to ‘figure’ things out. Hugo was running her mom’s business and she was sure that he would train her in it when she was ready. But she wasn’t. The studio, the office, it was all Ophelia and she wasn’t ready to step foot in there.

*** Zinnia came home from a long weekend partying in Ibiza with some friends. She locked her door and ordered more wine for the cellar and then headed to shower. When she got out she heard a knock on the door. Shit she thought that delivery was quick.

Running to the door with her robe on and hair soaking wet, she opened it.

“Hi, thanks sorry. You can put everything in the cellar here, follow me.” She led the delivery boy to the cellar behind the living room. It was a small room filled with wine racks, mostly empty. He was pushing a dolly full of crates of wines.

“Want me to restock for you?” He asked. He did this for her last time and she gave him a big cash tip.

“Sure thanks!”

He started to refill the empty spaces and she walked away to grab some money for him.

Crash!

A huge crash came from the cellar she came running over.

“I’m so sorry ma’am I can pay for all of it! It just fell and the shelves broke and I don’t know what happened!” He said, stained with red wine and surrounded by broken glass.

“Don’t worry! It’s ok really, the collection is all insured. Money is not an issue. Be careful with the glass! Just go, I'll have someone come clean this up.”

She helped the overly apologetic delivery boy out after cleaning up as much wine off of his face and clothes. She felt guilty, she remembered vaguely one night climbing up those shelves to get a bottle down. They probably were not strong enough to hold her and she had weakened them.

This might actually warrant her using her wand she thought as she started to broom up the broken glass. The very top shelves were still intact, just the middle ones had fallen, taking down the ones below it. Then, in the corner of her eye she saw it. The crack where the shelves had ripped off the wall. She moved over to inspect it closer. It was a room. Her mothers room. Shit no wonder these shelves didn’t hold; they were attached to a door, not a stud in the wall. Should she go closer? She thought if maybe she peeked in it would satisfy her curiosity. She pushed the door open more and the smell of her mother flooded her nose. She stepped in carefully to avoid the glass.

The bed was covered in letters, packages, and newspapers. She picked one up.

It was addressed to her, they all were.

Why were they in her mothers room? Why was her mothers room covered up by a wine cellar in the first place?

She ripped open a letter to begin reading. Her walls in her mind were fracturing. As she read the letter from George his memory squeezed through a crack in her mind. She ripped open another. Then another. Then more, his memory flooded in her head and her heart was pounding.

How did she keep this away? Did she put these letters in here? She picked up a newspaper, the photo moving and the headline reading ‘he’s back’ she scanned through it and remembered everything from her past that she had so carefully tucked away. Then she saw in the obituary, “Ophelia Black, presumed dead” her heart broken and shattered into a thousand pieces. Her mom was dead. She left her there and she was dead. She quickly went out the door slamming it shut before she fell to the floor. Sitting, rocking back and forth on the broken glass. She didn’t notice, she was numb. She thought she buried that past. Her mother was dead. She wiped the tears and continued to rock back and forth holding onto her knees.

“Shut the door Zinnia. It’s just a memory. It’s not reality. Out of sight out of mind. Shut the door. Close the curtain. Lock the door. The walls are repaired the thoughts are put away. Focus on what’s in front of you.” She rocked back and forth squeezing her eyes tight but the tears kept coming out. The memories were pounding in her brain, “ahhhh!” She screamed it hurt. She pounded back, slamming the her head back against her mothers door over and over again. “Go back! Go back!” She sobbed forcing her memories back in their place behind her shield. The wine shelves above her that were screwed into the wall above the door started to give. She kept slamming her head. The force was too much and the top rack, full of wine bottles came crashing down on top of Zinnia.

Everything was black.