How To Bottle Summer
The Fire-Kissed Lady
Summer. It's finally here. Blazing sun, green grass, longer days, chirping birds and frolicking unicorns. Isn't it just lovely? Yeah, right – maybe for bleeding-hearted Hufflepuffs it is. But for this Slytherin, summer means sunburns, a lot of noise, headaches from excessive brightness (yes, that's why I'm always lingering in the dungeons; and no, it's not because I'm secretly brewing a potion to enslave mankind) and worst of all, the end of another Hogwarts term. To be honest, that's the real bummer.
Don't get me wrong – I'm not some knowledge-crazed, grade-obsessed Ravenclaw or anything, but the Potions classes (and the resulting superior smirks when I manage to get that concoction just perfect, to the dismay of a certain Miss. Granger), the tight-knit net of Slytherins both pushing each other forward and keeping each other from falling down, the feasts and Hogsmeade trips with the fellow snake-y ladies, – those are the things that made it home for me.
And that's why I'm sitting on a patch of shade near the Lake, scribbling furiously and hoping the wrath of Pansy Parkinson will come down on those obnoxiously loud Gryffindors giggling excitedly about going home soon.
And it's how I got my idea.
Now, how do I bottle summer? I mean, I'm the very top in my Potions class, ask anyone with a functional brain, no matter their House. I want to catch Summer and bottle it up in a flask, put a lid on it and keep it in my trunk until I'm exasperated enough with school work that I actually want to go home. Sure, it sounds silly – but that's what they said when someone tried to brew a Love Potion. Heh, look who's spending those hard-earned galleons to buy Amortentia now.
I look at my empty potion vial and glance over the ingredients I've gathered. Freshly cut, sun-kissed blade of grass – check. Baby unicorn hair (because everybody knows summer is their favourite season; hmm, cost a small fortune too so this better work!) – check. Glass of gentle summer rain – check. Jar of beach sand – check. Alright, so I've got everything. Wait. The picture of a sun-enraptured Hufflepuff. Phew, almost forgot that.
Everything I could possibly need to capture summer.
So, ignoring the odd looks the aforementioned group of Gryffindors are giving me, I meticulously prepare my concoction in my brand-new brass cauldron, praying to Merlin, Salazar Slytherin and whatever supporter of such endeavours I can think of.
It goes wonderfully –the potion bubbles a cheery gold, smelling like sea waves and emitting warmth comparable to that of the morning sun. I sigh contentedly, loosening my green tie.
“Hey, Gail, whatcha doing?”
Three figures of fellow Slytherin girls and friends approach with the combination of dignity and friendliness only one of our House can muster. We hug and chuckle at a silly joke about some Ravenclaw girl's hair (she had braided butterflies, of all things, into it) and then they invite me over for the summer, talking excitedly about shopping trips and late night discussions and sneaking shots of Firewhiskey.
My chest tightens a bit and the breeze suddenly shifts from annoying to comforting
.Goading me to the pleasant chillness of our Common Room, they ask again about what I'm doing, brewing potions when the final exams are already over.
I glance at the almost finished concoction and the words get stuck in my throat.
Vanishing the substance, I shrug and reply with a grin: “No idea.”
As I'm sauntering over to the Common Room, arms linked with the people I was so afraid of being parted with for the summer, I realize that summer should not and cannot be bottled. That fear, bitterness and missing what another season might bring are no excuses. And the circumstance of school or any other will not stop true friends from seeking you out and inviting you to spend time with them. It doesn't matter if your skin burns in the sun or if overt cheeriness disgruntles you – they'll be right there with sunscreen and a joke to make it all better.