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Posted: Thursday 6 January 2011 09 55 24 am Post subject: Screaming In Our Hearts - [Barty Crouch Jr. one-shot, PG13] in topic:Screaming In Our Hearts - [Barty Crouch Jr. one-shot, PG13]
[b]Summary:[/b] Barty Crouch Jr.'s parents save him from Azkaban, but what is left of their boy? Focuses on the day they save him, but the beginning takes a look into Junior's year in the prison.
[b]Rating/Warnings/Genre:[/b] PG(13) | Mild langauge, emotional abuse | Dark/Angsty
[size=85][b]Disclaimer:[/b] I don’t own Harry Potter world or any of its characters but they belong to J.K Rowling. I don’t own the lyrics in the beginning and the end but they belong to Toto (song ‘I Will Remember You’) and Evanescence (song ‘Understanding’). The memory dialogue in the second & partly in the fourth paragraph is a mixed version of the dialogue from the book Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Chapter Thirty: The Pensieve, pages 646-647. (Bloomsbury, paperback, 2004.) This is a non-profit fan fiction. No copyright infringement intended.
[b]Beta readers:[/b] Midnight_Storm & xxbabewithbrainsxx at MNFF.[/size]
[b]AN[/b] My Junior’s looks come from the British actor Jamie Bell, Senior’s from the director Thomas Vinterberg and Mrs. Crouch’s from the actor Michelle Pfeiffer. And I know he doesn’t call him ‘Dad’ in the book but there’s a psychological reason for that, which I hint to in this story and will fully explain in my future story focusing on the Longbottom torture night. [b]AN[/b]
[b]Screaming In Our Hearts[/b]
[i]"When love breaks the promise the heart has to keep,
it leaves only truth here to find.
My love for you still grows.
This I do for you.
Before I try to fight the truth my final time."[/i]
It was gone again. The monster was gone, but he didn't even care. He always felt cold and he always felt unhappy. He was always sick, too deep inside his mind or beside it, so not to scream again. He didn't need the Dementors near to go through it all in an utterly painful level. There had hardly been a moment in all the months when he hadn't in the least subconsciously thought of it and died a little bit more inside. Soon enough it had truly sunk in. There was no hope; he would die there. There was no moment when he didn't hear the words, if not in his head, then in his heart. A Dementor always fed on a happy memory while throwing him back into the very nightmare as if he heard and saw it all for the first time, still unaware that it could ever be possible.
"…These crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban…”[/i] A life sentence… A life…
[i]"Father, please! I didn't do it! I didn't! Father, no! Don't! Not to the Dementors… I'm your son! I'm your son! Mother, don't let him! I didn't do it! I didn't know!"[/i]
Mother…he had stopped screaming in a few days time in the black pit that truly was a hell. For what was a hell if not a total absence of hope? Mother was not coming. She'd been crying as hysterically as he himself had been screaming and denying any part in the crime. She'd been crying as bitterly and shocked as the judge had said the impossible. She was probably already dead. She could not possibly have lived this long after that night. There was no hope.
[i]"You are no son of mine! I have no son!"[/i] Even if the Dementors drained him empty of his every memory, he could not forget those words. Nothing could change them to him. Nothing could make this right again.
A pale, unnaturally skinny boy of eighteen was lying lifelessly, on a hard bed, in a cold, bitter darkness. He was staring at the roof but he might as well have been blind. The room was small and with only one tiny window way up there, never to be reached but bringing a little air in. It felt like it wasn't even part of the world around it. His hair almost reached his shoulders and it was very messy. His skin was dirty after crawling on the stone floor, climbing the walls in the most insane moments. The rings under his eyes were shockingly dark. He was barely conscious. He looked dead already but inside he was painfully alive.
He had searched for his master. He had even done it; the unspeakable. Though he'd denied it to his father in the trial for he hadn't wanted to go so extreme in the search. He hadn't cared for his master [i]that[/i] much. He'd cared more for the innocent and the judge—[i]because he was his son[/i]. Even though he had revealed to the Lestranges that he was one of them, they would've still tortured or even killed him if he didn't agree to do it. They wouldn't have believed in his loyalty at all. Because [i]he was his son[/i].
He kept hearing his father yelling, disowning…sending him to hell to die alone and insane. Seeing his furious, despising eyes…hearing his mother crying, seeing her pale pain-stricken face…she had fainted. Sometimes he also heard the Aurors coming…saw the insane faces of the Longbottoms…heard their distant screams…he'd hoped that the weaker he'd grow the more blurry it all would become, but it hadn't. He was now close to dying but it was as painful as ever. For a time, in the most torturous moments, he had tried to think of his master. How he had to still be out there, somewhere. A wizard that powerful could not possibly die just like that. Bellatrix kept saying so and she should know. She might have always been insane but she had been master's favourite follower. Master would come—someday. There was hope.
He'd tried to recall the emotion he had when he was branded with that cursed symbol. The emotion he had when he'd first uttered the damned word, [i]'Crucio'[/i]. To hold on to his devotion caused by his master's promises and how he'd kept them. Promises of accepting him the way he was, just as long as he'd remain loyal to his master. Promises of power greater than his father could ever have. It had been his subconscious goal to get back at his father in those terms, in as extreme a way as possible. It had felt so right in those moments. The devotion he still felt to a degree. But no—he had found it was not enough.
He had kept coming around to his father and his mother, and it had all fallen apart, over and over again. Inside he was still screaming for his Daddy to save him, to forgive him, to believe him, screaming for his mother to make the man see. Yet at the same time his regret about his undertakings had been growing lesser. Something kept twisting and turning. Growing darker, growing stronger.
For father had abandoned him to torment and death while saying he didn't even have a son. Master had never mistreated him in any way. Junior's mind had grown warped and twisted along with his heart. Voldemort was a god. Daddy was…nothing but a ghost of someone he used to look up to, of someone he used to believe in. This didn't ease his pain for he didn't see it. He was dying. He wanted to die. There was no hope because he had loved them with all his heart and they were gone now. He would never see them again…he had lost their love.
[i]'Mother, forgive me. Father…still care enough to come and spit on my grave, which you dug with your words?'[/i]
Thousands of miles away, in the world of the living, a frail woman was lying on a comfortable bed. She didn't feel its cosiness or even see the sun shining through the window. She was dying too. To outsiders it looked like she wasn't thinking of anything clearly and that she was in extreme pain. She was feverish and skinny. Blind to all that moved, deaf to any sound, and in her eyes the deepest grief of a devoted mother and a lonely woman. But inside she was feeling calm. In her mind she was with her baby in hell, telling him everything would be all right.
It was always when the sun went down when the hell broke loose. When she began to feel the pain and reality, and start hysterically crying like that night one year ago. That night always seemed like only yesterday. But she knew it had been a year, and that the letter said he was dying, and it only added to her outbreaks. What if he had died already? What if he had drawn his last breath just a minute ago? Was he screaming for her, even now, and she wasn't able to comfort him? Silent tears fell down her pale cheeks. Was there any spell in the world to make this unreal?
A man, appearing healthy and strong but extremely tired, was sitting in the corner of the room, at a table. He had been trying to work for hours but hadn't really done anything. He didn't care too much for his current job. He had loved the previous one and thought he'd get all the way to the top. It had been one of his dreams. But it wasn't essential to him now. It hadn't been ever since he had seen that mark on his son's forearm. Absolutely every reason and dream had ceased to exist in that moment. And come back again in a whirlwind just to be shattered forever when he'd got undeniable evidence that the boy was guilty of all charges. To him, it did feel unreal. To the world he appeared as happy as he'd been before that night but inside he was going mad. He was tortured to no limits, yet he was still sure that nowhere near as badly as his child at the moment. And it certainly did not ease his pain. He was torn between utmost regret and bitterness. How could his son do something like that? His own flesh and blood! Where in the world had Daddy's little boy disappeared, and when?
One thing he was sure of. It had not been even a surprise really. He knew why the boy had become one of his enemies. Perhaps for one, how little he had shown approval of his choices and dreams in all their years—too eagerly tried to have him go the paths he himself thought best for the boy. Even when the boy had done so well on his O.W.L.s and tried to please him and be what he wanted him to be, he had lacked in showing just how proud he was, and kept asking for more. It may not have felt like encouragement to the boy but probably had felt like he was never good enough for him, even when he tried to be. He had lacked in showing his child how he in the deepest accepted him just the way he was. And hadn't he selfishly drowned his own sorrow into work when he should've been there for his son who was losing his mother? He had been so power-hungry and ambitious that he had been blind to how bad his boy felt. His child must have been feeling really, really alone if he was willing to join Voldemort's cause rather than stay on his Daddy's side. And no wonder really—Junior had been so utterly a Daddy's boy that lacking the feeling of being accepted must have been eating him up inside more than it would usually in any father-son relationship. And he knew his son. How much alike they were. Like him, Junior had always been able to do anything he'd felt right or needed for a cause, which in this case must have been to get back at him in certain terms. Barty felt sicker inside by the moment.
But the boy participating in a double-torture into madness was simply something that threw him off the edge of any understanding. But it was still his son. His bratty child who he had tried so hard not to love anymore, during the past months, only to find out it wasn't up to him. As bitter as he was about losing any chance of promotion because of his son, about his name driven into eternal shame, he felt even more strongly about what he'd done to the boy in the end. Regret about the disowning and a downright life sentence in that unthinkable place had left the bitterness in its shadow, a long, long time ago. The boy had done an unspeakable thing but still… his son… How could he have sent his [i]own son[/i] to [i]that[/i] place for [i]life[/i]? But no one knew he regretted it to any degree. It was a wonder if anyone even reckoned so—except maybe…
"Barty…?" She uttered her husband's name, her voice so frail and quiet you could hardly hear her. "Junior…" she tried to continue, but she lost her strength to speak. Barty hadn't heard his own name but his son's. That he was sure he'd hear now, even if it was only thought of and not said out loud. It still hit him like a thousand daggers and a train at once. It still made him want to both, cry and curse at the same time. But he had done neither yet, except when he’d been alone.
"Yes," he answered, quietly too, in a pained tone. He didn't even know what he was answering to.
"Have you decided yet?" she asked after a moment of silence. She was now speaking more loudly, more clearly, but still her back turned on him. She got no answer. He only stared with almost blank eyes, at a paper in front of him.
"Barty, [i]please[/i], you know he doesn't deserve it! No one does!" She then broke down into crying again. No one did, indeed. How many people had he thrown in there even without a trial? Barty breathed in short and quick breaths for a moment until he couldn't take it anymore. The truth in her words combined to a more harsh reason, and in the end to love.
"Caroline, [i]he took part in torturing two people into madness[/i]! With an Unforgivable Curse too! Out of his own—" he started to yell, unable to feel empathy for his wife at the moment, as he stood up and ended up swinging his chair to the other side of the room. He couldn't finish. He had meant to say “Out of his own free will.” He knew it was not possible! It had become another reason why he hated himself sometimes more than he hated anyone else. Junior must have been doing it under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Many Death Eaters had claimed themselves so, and no one could deny it to be a possibility. Or he had been in some other way given no choice. That, he had not even bothered to check in his son's case. His own son's! No shock or fury gave him right not to. It had only been the reason why he hadn't been able to think about how he really knew the boy. He had betrayed his son. And now it was easier to live with if trying to think he could've done it without outside influence.
"I DON'T CARE!" she screamed in desperation, her pale face covered with tears, as she turned to face him. The more accurate case was that she didn't believe it—at least not that her child would've done it if he had a choice. Barty had felt the same in the deepest, so he wasn't too shocked about the words, knowing there was more to it than seemed. She was sobbing wildly now, curled up as if trying to close the world outside again. Barty took a deep breath, and half knelt, half fell on his knees, next to her bed.
"I don't have much time. But I can't die like this. I can't leave him there. You must help me. You must help him," she spoke between her sobs.
Barty touched her hand, very gently, his sorrow-filled eyes on her withering being.
"You know I love you—both of you—more than anything else in this world," he stated quietly and sincerely. "But I think it's too late. If he didn't hate me before that night, he most certainly hates me now. He'll go on searching for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. How could I possibly restrain him?"
"You'll find a way. I can hear it in your voice; you love him. You'll find a way. You always did when you really meant to," she spoke as she looked up at him, tears still running down her face. Her voice was now soft and convincing.
"And, darling—he can't possibly hate you. Not truly in the deepest. I'm sure he's gone mad in there but you must remember how he worshipped you when he was little—and in some way all along right down to that night. Barty…his heart was yours so obviously, I don't believe it could really, thoroughly change."
Barty didn't say a word. He was looking away. He supposed he might find a way. And he remembered, but he had done something utterly unforgivable just like his son. Only, he'd done it by words. He thought it a small miracle if the bond they had still existed and would still hold enough from his son's side, to help in protecting the boy. After all, it would have to be for the rest of their lives - and what about when he'd die? What would happen to Junior then? Best not think too much.
"We're leaving tomorrow morning. I'll send an owl to Azkaban, letting them know we wish to pay him a death-bed visit," he finally said. His voice was expressionless for he didn't know how to feel about his decision. It was too painful and yet so relieving at the same time. It was impossible to deal with at the moment.
"Hey…" she whispered, gently grabbing his hand as he stood up and tried to leave. He looked at her with only a minority of his attention. "You're doing the right thing," she said in the same soft tone as earlier, with a small but genuine and warm smile. She had suddenly grown unbelievably peaceful.
"Yes… I… have to get some air," he stated quickly and he gently squeezed her hand. He let go and disappeared out of the door. He wished he could be so sure about the rightness of what he was about to do. But maybe for the first time in his life, he didn't care if what he'd do is wrong. It was his wife's last wish and it would save his son's life and health. It was all that mattered.
"Crouch!" someone yelled in the infinite darkness of his mind. "You have visitors," a human guard said from the doorway of his cell as Junior opened his eyes, waking from a restless sleep though it didn't really feel like waking up. He turned on his side to face the door. His first thought being that his master had come, regardless of it being completely ridiculous seeing to the way the news was brought to him. Master would probably blow up the place or something else really cool. He let out a quiet, hollow laugh, without even knowing why. There was no light in the doorway. It seemed as if the couple had appeared from nowhere. But then again, that was just what there was in his world; nowhere. He stared at the sight as if they were the most surprising and most interesting thing he'd ever seen in his existence. Much like a child, who was taking his first look at his own reflection. This was a new vision, he thought. How on earth had he come to dare to dream something like this?
The guard set couple of torches on the walls of the cell and lighted a fire in them, and then left. Junior's eyes were nailed to the image of his mother, then to his father. He couldn't decide which one was more stupid option to see, (not to mention both together), in all its impossibility. He didn't even consider speaking to the image, in fear that it would go away. At least, should he die there and then, he wouldn't die alone, but with the hallucination of his parents with him. He kept his eyes on his mother and so did Barty as he held her protectively. They had asked them to keep the Dementors out for the duration of their visit, but in his opinion they were still way too near. The mother was looking at her son with double the grief-filled eyes she’d had a year ago in the court room.
"My baby…" she said so quietly and with such a broken voice that it was a wonder anyone heard it through the screaming coming from a cell nearby. But Junior heard. He blinked.
"Mum…you…you're really here?" he dared to ask out loud. Did hallucinations usually speak? He tried to get up into sitting position as if to see better but was too weak and fell down half way through. The next thing he knew was his mother embracing him tightly, in knowing it would be the last time she'd get to hold her baby.
“Ma…Mum, you…can’t…be here,” Junior said, with more difficulties coming out with it than with anything else in his life. As she let him go but still held him close, he touched her face as cautiously as he could—still fearing it was not real. He studied her face just as cautiously as if even looking at her might make her disappear. Barty was standing further behind, silently watching them. He was glad that the two probably had forgotten he even existed, for he had more than enough to do in keeping himself together as it was. He would never forget the way Junior looked when they walked in. Not his physical appearance, not his eyes. So sick, so given up, so alone.
"I'm here, dear. I'm here. Your father and I came to—" Caroline spoke as quietly as she could without whispering.
"Who?" Junior asked, his genuine first reaction until after a short beat. “Oh…him.” Even during only two words, his tone went from expressionless to extremely bitter, numerous times. Finally he was truly aware of his father's presence and of the whole situation being very real. He stared straight ahead, nowhere near his father who didn't know where to turn or what to say or do. He just wished it was all over and that he could find some, any, source of strength in the situation. The moment of silence lasted perhaps only a few seconds but to all of them it felt like minutes.
"We came to—" she started again but was cut off again, now deliberately.
"You came. He came only because you couldn't come alone," Junior said, not really caring what his mother was trying to tell him. His mother held him upright and he came to lie in her arms, resting his head on her shoulder. He wouldn't have minded dying right there.
"Baby, please, listen to me. You're going to get out of here," she whispered, running her hand through his over-grown hair, gently kissing his brow.
"OK, I [i]am[/i] dreaming…" he said breathlessly. But it all felt so real he couldn't throw away the spark of hope this situation was. He lifted his eyes to his father, who was looking back at him. In his eyes worse sorrow than in his wife's who wasn't losing anything really, in her own mind. Junior's eyes were filled with a mixture of despise and wonder. She whispered into her son's ear so that only he could hear.
"All I wanted to say was that I love you, and I'm not afraid."
The look in Junior's eyes grew distant though he kept them on his father.
"Why?" he asked his mother.
"Because I'm going to die here in your stead, and I know he loves you too. And he's here because of that," she told him, in her voice all the certainty in the world. This caused Junior to remain silent instead of throwing a stinging remark, but not for long.
"Dad…" he uttered quietly. He reached his arm towards his father, in a gesture for him to come closer. His choice of word startled Barty and for a short moment he could only stare at his son, feeling a mixture of laughably wishful thinking and disbelief.
"Dad?" Junior repeated more loudly. In his mind he was saying it to annoy his father—sure of that it caused the man utter disgust to be called that by him, especially with such a close-relationship term. But having said it most of his life made it also partly genuine, regardless of everything. And in the end, some very small and deeply buried part of him would never stop loving his dad—while he would never ever forgive the man or believe in him again. Barty took the few steps and crouched down next to his wife. He didn't hope for the best and he feared for the worst, and it showed in his eyes as he looked at his son's suffering and yet strangely lighted face. Junior took a hold of his coat as if afraid the man would run away before he'd get to say anything.
"Hey, Dad, look at me. Think back and tell me…did I grow up according to the plan?" he asked and sounded as if he actually demanded an answer. On his face was a mocking grin, in his eyes a mixture of that and sorrow. Barty's stomach turned painfully but something in Junior's behaviour—though obviously intended as only malicious—gave him faith in this plan actually working. On the way he had even come up with a way to keep the boy from searching for a certain someone, to keep him safe, and to give him a peace of mind after all this torture he had abandoned him into. He dismissed the question. He dug two small bottles from his wallet—one of those from which no one but its owner was able to pull anything out.
"I'm going to take you home," he whispered, holding them right in front of the boy's eyes.
"Mum, you can't do this. You don't know what it's like. You don't want to die here," Junior broke into a protest driven by distress. Especially as he was growing tired of speaking and moving and thinking so much, "I won't…let…" he continued, but he grew weary for a moment. He felt his mother's tears in his hair. He felt like crying too, but he felt like he'd run out of tears months ago.
"I'll die happier here, you must believe me. Knowing you're safe at home."
Junior's look was wandering.
"What makes you believe he'll take me home…" he questioned. What he really wanted to ask was what made anyone think he'd stay there. He would continue searching for Voldemort the very red second he'd somehow have strength to walk by his own feet and hold a wand. But that was the last thing he wanted his mother to know – he owed her more than that but that's all he was able to do. Besides, he was also interested in what he did ask. This time however, it wasn't answered by his mother.
Barty gently ran his hand through Junior's hair, making him take an eye contact.
"Daddies don't just love their children every now and then. It's a love without end," he said sincerely. He was sure the boy did not believe if even truly listened. But even if it would never register to the boy, it was enough for him that it was surely always on the way. Because he knew that Junior knew, that he truly loved him. It might make the years a little bit easier on both of them.
"Where did you hear that?" Junior asked, now really wanting an answer. Everything about his being demanded it and in completely negative tone. He was sure that the true answer would be; because his mother wished it so. He recalled knowing that his father had loved him but that he'd also felt he'd loved the mother more.
"Just drink it," his father said calmly as he held out one of the bottles to him. Junior took it as his mother reluctantly let go of him. She took the remaining bottle, and then last, aching, loving look at her son sitting next to her, looking down at his bottle of Polyjuice Potion. The boy was falling back into the surreal state of mind faster by the moment. He thought the situation too good to be true while he was growing wearier than ever.
"Goodbye, love," Barty whispered softly in his wife's ear and gently kissed her brow as she took her first sip of the potion.
By the time they'd taken on each other's appearance, Junior was only half conscious, so they had to help him with a final change—the clothes. Barty half carried him all the way to the ship. During those hours, he never left his side. He let him sleep, only waking him enough once in an hour to have him drink more Polyjuice Potion. He slept so peacefully, in fresh air, on his way home. And he appeared as his mother. Barty was not yet able to completely register what had happened, and so, at least for that blessed moment, he felt like he'd done the right thing. To him personally, it was and always would be the right thing to have done—but he couldn't help thinking also from the point of view of the entire society…and the Longbottoms, including little Neville.
Back in London, still on their way home, he met Mad-Eye Moody to who he informed he would take couple of weeks off from work, to be with his wife in her last days. And that he'd appreciate if he was allowed to spend them undisturbed. He was planning to assign Winky to nurse Junior back to health, but he wanted to make sure everything started rolling nicely before he’d leave the two alone and go work every day. They reached their home by nightfall, and after carrying him inside, closing all the curtains, and turning off the fireplace, he carefully eliminated any evidence of Polyjuice Potion. The next half an hour while waiting for Junior to wake up, he stressed about the future. At least he'd always had it so that it was impossible to Apparate into their house or Disapparate out of it. It surely erased a major risk of all this happening for nothing.
"Mum!" the boy suddenly screamed from the room upstairs where he had been left with Winky as his company, already given her assignments. His dream had turned into another nightmare. He didn't even remember what it had been about before that. There was still very little room in his head for anything but pain, sorrow and bitterness. The utter emotional mess that was his love for his parents and the subconsciously formed worship of the man for whose following he had suffered so deeply. Added at the moment, confusion about what was happening. He now appeared himself again, the potion's affect had worn completely off.
"Where is she? Where am I? What is this!" he spoke in muffled, distressed voice, trying to get up but barely had the strength to move his arms. All he knew was that he was somewhere new but strangely familiar and that he didn't feel so unhappy, so tortured as before. Barty came into the almost totally dark room except for the one lamp light burning on the table, near the bed.
"You're home. Like I promised, you're home," he said calmly, crouching next to the bed, beside him.
"Home… home…" Junior kept repeating the word for a moment, in hollow voice, his look wandering around the room he thought he had once known. But home was not a clear concept to him anymore. His mother was to die in Azkaban and he had no father, so what was home but an empty dream lost somewhere in the night of his twisted mind and in the thing that had become of what used to be his heart. He had another kind of home replacing the one the true man inside had valued. He still had one dream, one ambition, which would only grow stronger the longer he'd be kept from reaching it. He had seen it for many months now, wanted to go there.
But only now when he came to realize he was free, it slowly but certainly grew clearer in his mind. There was someone out there who apparently needed help. And how proud would he be to be the one to help. He started to look feverish, so Winky ran downstairs to get everything she could think needed. She hadn't the slightest idea how bad it would be after so long in a place like Azkaban. By every 'home' Junior uttered, Barty lost some strength, so he decided to speak.
"Junior, listen to me. Listen…" he said softly. He took his son's face in his hands, so to know he listened because the boy now looked at him, even if with slightly absent-minded eyes.
"I will be here for a time but mostly it will be Winky nursing you back to health. And we must continue living as if nothing's changed around here. To the rest of the world you're still in Azkaban, and that's how it must remain."
"But I want… I need… my master…" Junior spoke, increasingly feverish, but you could still figure out the words if you listened.
"I know. I know…" Barty sighed in pain, looking away to the door's direction. "But that's not what we saved you for." He was sure Junior knew and appreciated it too. Maybe, just maybe even felt the same love. It was the only way he'd find strength to agree to do this in the first place and keep doing it no matter what happened. The hope and faith in that his child was still somewhere in there. No matter how deep in and lost himself, but still there.
First he had blamed Junior for destroying two families' lives but later he'd felt he had destroyed his son's life, and through it the whole family's. He had betrayed his son who he knew better than to do what he did in the trial. The guilt made it easier to shut out the cold and unthinkable fact about what the boy had done. All he could think of was to do all in his power to keep the kid from searching for the monster they'd finally got rid off and to try and make him feel as peaceful as possible. All these thoughts reminded him of his plan. He didn't have the slightest idea how, by trying to do the best by his child now, he'd end up turning him into just about as bad monster as was the one who he'd lost him to.
"I'm so sorry, son. I was blind," he said quietly, and pointed his wand at him."[i]Imperio[/i]."
Junior's being grew calm and peaceful apart from the sweating and tiredness caused by the fever. It was a little comfort for it was not real. There was nothing he could do to fix him anymore. He was broken forever and all because of him. He'd keep on seeing his son's pleading eyes as they had looked at him, hearing him hysterically screaming how he was innocent…seeing it all too clearly in the way he should've seen it that night—that he had still been fixable.
He remembered now, more clearly than ever, all those years he'd spent with his little boy, getting to know him, and letting the boy know him and his love. But things had begun to change when the boy had first left to Hogwarts and his mother's condition started to grow worse. They'd still remained close but those were the years, he thought, when he must have made a crucial mistake or a few—while he had never been exactly the best possible father, letting his ambition extent to his son, over-shadow parental support.
He now saw how Daddy's little boy had always, always been there in front of him and how much he had cared about it, but in the end...in his selfish sorrow and love for his work, he had let the cold world come between them even to a degree the boy had got lost in it, carrying with him all the bitterness he had caused him. Oh but the trial...the way the boy had looked at him...regardless of everything, there had been no bitterness, no hate. Only love and fear. There had been his son who would've never committed such a horrible crime out of free will, pleading for his Daddy to remember him, to punish him with love and not with hate, like it used to be. That's why he'd been lying about his innocence. But what was left of his boy now? How much damage can you do with a few simple words in a state of an utter shock? He seemed to now have a son only in his own heart. But he held on to a hope that some part of that son still had a father in his own heart.
"Thank you, Winky. Now bring the invisibility cloak," he said with a broken voice. He sat beside Junior, on the edge of the bed. He put a cold towel on his forehead from the pile of them which WInky just brought in and disappeared again.
"Listen to me…" he spoke to Junior, when it seemed he was conscious enough to listen.
"You must stay hidden under the invisibility cloak at all times. You do [i]not[/i] take it off without my permission. No one else's but mine. And if at any time someone else but Winky or me is inside this house, you do not make a sound or go near them. Do you understand this?"
Junior remained silent for a beat or two until answered calmly. "Yes."
"And when you get better..." Barty continued softly. How he wished it could mean more than just physical health. "You are not allowed a wand. But you're free to entertain yourself in any other way you wish just as long as it doesn't give out that a third person is living here, and as long as it's nothing dangerous in any other way either. And you remain inside this house and let Winky stay nearby, at all times unless I say otherwise," he spoke steadily, hoping he wasn't forgetting anything crucial in his hopes to make Junior's life as pleasant as possible but minimize the risk of someone finding out about him or him running off.
"Is all this clear?" he asked again.
"Yes," Junior said, sooner now.
"Dad…?" he then said, again partly genuinely, mostly in means to annoy. He was trying to look at his father but his look wandered as if he was going blind. He couldn't even figure out what to make of all those orders. He only knew he felt good and careless and that they didn't sound too bad, while his thoughts were constantly run over by increasing desire to find his master and the idea of it was making him feel even happier. "What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly as he closed his eyes.
"Just loving you," Barty answered, but he reckoned that to the young man he was looking down at, it seemed only continued imprisoning.
"Take it easy now. Rest," he told him. He gave a lingering kiss on his son's brow and silently left the room. Even without the curse it was all Junior could do. He slipped into a restless sleep filled with a mixture of fanatic dreams of finding his master, distant echoes of the love and devotion he had felt for his father, and the silent tears he was crying for his mother.
[i]"You hold the answers deep within your own mind. Consciously, you've forgotten it. That's the way the human mind works. Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it. We erase it from our memories.
But the imprint is always there."[/i]
[b]AN[/b] This is part of my fic series about Barty Junior. All of the current stories are at FanFiction.Net under my pen name AngelJunior. [b]AN[/b]
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Sunday 8 August 2010 04 52 12 pm Post subject: Re: Beyond the Shadow in topic:Beyond the Shadow
Chapter 14: The Support Groups
Victoire was in tears when I arrived at her house the following evening, making me wonder whether she had forgotten that she had invited me over for dinner. However, once I saw the kitchen, I realized she had merely dropped an entire pitcher of juice on the floor. Or rather, Sophie had.
“I told her to just let me pour it,” Victoire said while sniffling. “She's five for Merlin's sake! And it was a full pitcher!”
“Victoire, it's ok,” I assured her as I waved my wand to clean up the mess. “Not a big deal.”
“But it is!” Victoire sobbed. “I yelled at her and she ran upstairs and she hates me and I'm obviously an unfit parent if my own daughter hates me so why should I be having two more kids? Two, Amy, two! I am insane!”
“You're not insane. People can't control whether they're going to have twins or not. And Sophie does not hate you. Get ahold of yourself and I'll go find Sophie.”
Merlin, I thought as I left the room, if that's what pregnancy did to your emotions, I didn't want to do it. I honestly did not remember Victoire getting so emotional when she was pregnant with Sophie. Well, except for the whole lycanthropy thing.
I found Sophie sitting in her room playing with a few My Little Hippogriffs. She looked up when I walked in and her face was streaked with tears. I sat down next to her and began to brush the purple hair that was knotted in a ball atop the head of one of the hippogriffs.
“Mummy's hates me,” she said quietly.
“No she's doesn't,” I assured her. “She's mad that you didn't listen, but she doesn't hate you.”
“I just wanted to pour the juice myself,” Sophie said. “'Cause soon I'm going to have two little brothers and I'm going to be a big sister. Big sisters can pour juice.”
“Not all the time. Do you know how old your mum was when Aunt Gabriella was born?”
“She was only two. Two-year-olds can't do much of anything when they have little brothers or sisters. They're still babies themselves. You'll be able to do a lot more when your brothers are born. You'll be able to make them laugh when they're old enough and your mum and dad will let you hold them.”
“I guess.” She fiddled with one of the hippogriff's beaks. “How old were you when Uncle Matt was born?”
“Seven,” I replied. “So not that much older than you. What do you say we go back downstairs?”
“What if Mummy's still mad?”
“I think she's better now. You know how your little brothers are growing in Mummy's tummy?”
“Sometimes that makes her get mad more easily, because it's a lot of work to have babies growing in your tummy.”
“Come on.” I offered her my hand as I stood up, and we walked downstairs together.
Victoire had recovered by the time we got back to the kitchen and had a pot of water boiling on the stove, a box of macaroni and cheese on the counter. Whenever Sophie was around, we ate kid food. Sophie hovered around me for a few seconds before Victoire held out her arms and Sophie ran into them.
Victoire and I played with Sophie after dinner and didn't get to talk about my date with Dillan until after she went to bed. However, no sooner had Victoire shut Sophie's door did she grin at me and demand details. I waited until we were back downstairs to give them.
“Before I say anything, do you remember anyone called the 'Riddleless Ravenclaw' from Hogwarts?” I asked. Victoire would have been at Hogwarts while Dillan was there, for a few years anyway.
“The riddleless Ravenclaw?” she repeated. She didn't say anything else for a few moments, clearly trying to remember. “Oh, wait! I think I do remember Teddy telling me about him once. Some Ravenclaw a few years above us who couldn't solve a riddle and couldn't get into his common room?”
“Why? What's he got to do with your date?”
“He was my date,” I replied. “Dillan is the riddleless Ravenclaw.”
“Seriously?” Victoire laughed. “I never really met him but still, that's kind of funny. What's he like?”
I smiled. “He's adorable and nice and sweet and get this, he wants to start a restaurant in Diagon Alley or some place. A restaurant where he cooks like a Muggle.”
“I thought you said he was a counterfeit coin checker at Gringotts.”
“He was. That's the job he was fired from and he actually hated it. He wants to start a restaurant and he wants to cook me dinner,” I said. “But I'm on call next weekend so I probably won't see him for a while.”
Victoire just grinned.
“What?” I asked.
“Your face. You look so sad about that and I've never really seen you sad about missing a date to work. It's like a major 'aww' moment!” Victoire exclaimed.
“I know. I realized that last night. Never before have I been with someone who makes me want to miss work. I mean, it's not like we're together yet, but....”
“You think that's where it's headed?”
“Unless he suddenly announces that he wants to resurrect Lord Voldemort then yes, I do.”
“Well, I can guarantee he's not going to do that,” Victoire said seriously.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because if he can't solve a riddle he certainly wouldn't be able to figure out how to bring someone back from the dead.”
I laughed. “Fair point.”
Victoire shifted and pulled her Galleon alert out of her pocket. Frowning as she read it, she stood up. She didn't have to tell me what it said. “Off to Mungo's?” I asked.
“Yep.” She sighed. “I suppose I'll have to go wake Sophie so she can spend the night at your place.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I'll stay here. I can sleep on the couch. That way you don't have to get her up.”
Victoire grabbed her wand and a handful of Floo powder, stepping into the flames a moment later. I watched as the fire returned to its normal color and wondered just how much longer Victoire was going to be doing this.
The Lycanthropic Children's Foundation held its first meeting after the holidays the following Monday which meant I went directly to my parents' house from work. Everyone was already there (except Teddy, as his mission was taking longer than expected) and there was happy chatter about what everyone had done for the holidays. Betsy was currently in the middle of a story from her trip to France with her fiance.
After I had poured myself a cup of coffee, Mum called the meeting to order. We first delegated some of the newest donations to certain children and then we had to vote on whether to start support groups as well.
“The Ministry has agreed to allocate a certain amount of its Werewolf Support Services budget to any support groups we decide to start, so long as we do not focus solely on children. However, we have to stress that these groups will not be therapy sessions since none of us are certified to give any sort of therapy,” Mum explained. “Does anyone move to put this up to a vote?”
“I move,” I said.
“I'll second it,” Victoire replied.
“All in favor?” Mum asked. There was a chorus of 'yays'. “Any opposed?” Complete silence. It had passed unanimously and I grinned.
For the next hour we hammered out the details of the support groups because deciding to have them was only the beginning. We had to figure out what groups we would start with, where they would be held, how we would get word out, and who would run them. It really was a huge step for our foundation, going from a mostly unknown group to having public support groups.
In the end we decided to start with four groups and see where it went from there. One for children with lycanthropy, one for adults with it, one for siblings, and one for parents. I was elected to ask Farina if we could have the groups meet at St. Mungo's since it was a location that could provide private rooms. Flyers would be printed and posted in the hospital once we figured out times and exact locations.
“All we have left is figuring out who is going to run the meetings,” Mum said once we'd all agreed upon St. Mungo's as a location. “We'll obviously have to run them, but I don't think all of us should go to all of them.”
“Yeah, that might be overwhelming,” Joe agreed. “And honestly, I haven't got the time to attend that many meetings.”
“I don't think any of us do,” Victoire agreed. “But there are only four meetings and six of us, so I think we can figure it out.”
“I'd like to run the sibling one,” I said immediately.
Betsy gave me a strange look and while it only lasted a second, I wondered if I'd said that too fast. Neither Betsy or Joe know that Matt is a werewolf and we've seen no reason to enlighten them. They don't know about Sophie being one either.
“Unless anyone else wants to,” I said half-heartedly.
“No, that's fine,” Mum replied. “And I'll do the one for parents, if nobody else is volunteering.”
“Teddy and I can do the one for children,” Victoire suggested. That made sense, I thought, since they'd be bringing Sophie anyway.
Betsy turned to Joe. “That leaves us for the one for adults. Want to do it together?”
“Sure,” Joe agreed. “Although to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure how much help either of us will be, seeing as neither of us have lycanthropy.”
“True,” Betsy replied. “But I have a feeling we'll mostly be there to start things off and once everyone knows each other, the group will run itself.”
“That's the hope of it, anyway,” Mum said.
We decided to wait on deciding a time until after we found out if Farina would let us host the meetings at St. Mungo's. There was no point in wasting time on that if we couldn't hold the meetings there anyway. Joe and Betsy headed out a short while later since it was late. Victoire and I stayed to help Mum clean up.
“You know, Mum,” I said as we were washing mugs, “I was thinking that if he was willing to, Matt would be a good leader of the children's group.”
Mum set down her sponge. “You're kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?” It made sense to me. Who better to give these kids hope than someone who had gone to Hogwarts and was holding down a steady job? Better yet, he wasn't old enough to be considered 'old' to the little kids and an adult to teenagers.
“Because then people are going to find out that he's got lycanthropy,” Mum said slowly, as if she was talking to a child.
“Only the people at the meeting, Joe, and Betsy, and what would be the problem with that? It's obviously ok for everyone else in the support groups to reveal they've got lycanthropy,” I pointed out.
“It's just....it's different.”
“Why, Mum? Because he's Matt? He could really help these kids,” I said as I put away dishes.
“I just don't think it's a good idea.” Mum sighed.
“He's twenty-three. Why don't you just let him decide for himself?”
“What about Teddy and Victoire?” Mum asked. “They're going to be running this one.”
“And I don't think they'd be upset if Matt were to run it instead.”
“Not at all,” Victoire said as she came into the room. “Honestly, Julie, I think it's a good idea. Just let Amy talk to him.”
“Fine,” Mum said shortly. “Fine.”
We finished the dishes in silence and said goodbye. Mum was still having a hard time letting Matt grow up, even six years after he came of age.
I was determined to talk to Matt about leading the support group before Mum got to him so I went directly to his flat after the meeting. Matt could say no for all I cared, but I wanted him to make the decision for himself, without Mum interfering. I knocked on the door, hoping that he was home since Albus had returned briefly over the weekend and I wasn't sure whether he had left yet or not.
I had my answer when messy-haired Al Potter opened the door a few seconds later. “It's your sister!” he shouted back into the flat.
I stepped inside, gingerly avoiding a spilled bag of crisps and a Puddlemere t-shirt, clear signs that John had been there recently. Matt was laying on the couch and there was a pile of Exploding Snap cards on the coffee table. A second glance at Al's face revealed that he had been losing.
“Hey, Amy,” Matt said as I entered the room. “Just get back from the meeting?”
“Yep,” I said as I sat down in an incredibly ugly green armchair. “It passed unanimously. We're going to be starting the support groups.”
“Excellent,” Matt replied. “I'll make sure the Ministry gets you the money soon.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Listen, I had this crazy idea during the meeting and you don't have to agree if you don't want to but I have to ask.”
“What is it?” Matt asked as he sat up.
“One of the support groups is for kids with lycanthropy. Teddy and Victoire are leading it, but I thought it, well, might be a good idea if you ran it.”
“Seriously?” Matt asked. He looked beyond shocked, whereas Albus was smiling slightly.
“Yeah, but you don't have to-”
“No, I want to,” Matt replied. “I'm just kind of surprised since I've never really done anything for the Foundation.”
“Except, you know, be the whole reason your mum founded it,” Albus cut in.
“Shut it,” Matt said. “I'll do it, Amy, just let me know when the group meets.”
“That's great.” I smiled. “I really think you'll be a good role model for the kids.”
“So, Amy,” Albus said as he flopped down on another ugly armchair. “Who was that tall bloke you were with the other night?”
I turned to Albus and stared at him. “Wh-what? How did you find out about him?”
“Shared the lift with him on Friday. He pushed the button for your floor and I took a guess that he was going to see you rather than old Mrs. Walsh.”
“Oh,” I muttered. “He's just a guy I've been out with a few times.”
“A few?” Matt repeated. “And you haven't told your own brother?”
“I would've told you about him when it got serious.”
“Amy, with you, any time you agree to a second date it's considered serious,” Matt pointed out.
Albus burst out laughing. “Shut it, Albus. When was the last time you even went on a first date?” I asked.
“I can't help it. I can't make dates when I have no idea when I'll be working,” Albus said.
“On that note, I think I'm going back to my flat. Matt, are you doing anything tomorrow after work?”
“Don't think so, why?”
“I'm going to visit Cinda; haven't been there in a while. Want to come?”
“Sure.” Matt shrugged. “I can tell Cinda about your boyfriend.”
I glared at him before getting up to leave. “Don't you dare,” I muttered on my way out.
It only took me half the day to find Farina and ask her about using a few conference rooms for the support group meetings. After a quick chat with Mum in the morning, I decided to request three rooms on the same night because it would be a lot easier for parents if the parents, siblings, and underage werewolves meetings were all on the same night. The meeting for adults with lycanthropy would take place on a different night. We also decided that there wouldn't be a parents meeting on the first night because most would wish to attend the underage meeting with their kids.
Farina agreed to let us use the rooms without hesitation and even better, without charge. All that was left to do was decide on a time and make flyers. We were given the rooms for Tuesday and Wednesday evenings from seven until eight.
After work I met Matt at the Ministry and we Apparated to the bush behind Cinda's nursing home. While walking up to the building, I told Matt that we had gotten rooms for the meetings and that they would most likely begin the following week.
The nursing home hadn't changed in the time that had taken place between our last visit and this one. Nurses milled about while patients sat around playing cards and sleeping. A bingo game was taking place in the lounge on Cinda's floor and there was that antiseptic smell in the air that was never missing from any type of medical related building. I was completely used to it since St. Mungo's had the same smell, but Matt wrinkled his nose as we walked through the corridor.
Cinda's door was open and I found her inside, looking at some sort of fashion magazine. She looked up when we entered, her mouth forming a wide grin.
“Amy, Matt!” she greeted us. “I was beginning to wonder if the two of you left the country!”
“No, just busy, Cinda,” I said as I gave her a hug. Matt and I sat down on the usual couch, settling in for an evening of gossip.
“Now, I have to tell you about Izzy down the hall...” Cinda began.
I smiled and nodded in all the appropriate places but my mind was not on Izzy and the rift that had developed between her and her granddaughter. My mind was on the support group meetings. It seemed almost surreal that an idea that I had had was actually going to be put into motion and might really help people. None of my potions had ever helped people before, but now, I might make a real difference.
“So then, Izzy's granddaughter was rapping on her door right before dinner and Izzy wouldn't answer. The nurses all thought something had happened so they unlocked the door and went in, only to find Izzy watching TV like nothing was wrong. Izzy's granddaughter hasn't been back since. Trust me, I've kept my ears open for the knocking,” Cinda finished.
“That's sad,” I replied, knowing that Cinda was focusing far more on the drama than the fact that Izzy had a bad relationship with her granddaughter.
“Yes, it is,” Cinda agreed. “But actually, maybe she'll come visit tonight. If she does you ought to go out there and introduce yourself, Matt. She's quite a cute girl, about your age.”
Matt looked up, the glazed look that had previously been on his face disappearing. “Erm, maybe,” he muttered.
“Seriously,” Cinda replied, leaning closer to us, “she's single. I heard a few people talking about how her boyfriend broke up with her a few weeks ago. I know you and your friends like living the bachelor life, but there's something to be said for settling down.”
“I'm only twenty-three,” Matt said, a feeble attempt to sway Cinda from setting him up with a random girl.
“Nonsense. You've been out of school for five years. Once you're thirty you'll wish you'd listened to me and so will all of your friends.”
Cinda knew enough about Matt's friends to know that none of them had settled down either, something that baffled her. She just couldn't comprehend that nobody married right out of school anymore.
“Just talk to her,” Cinda went on. “She's a few inches shorter than you, which is good. It'll be hard to find a girl who's significantly shorter than you, you know.”
I stifled my laughter while Matt muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. No one in my family was tall as a child, but nearly all of us hit a growth spurt in our teenage years. This rendered me a respectable five feet five inches, about as tall as Mum. However, the men in my family usually hit more of a growth spurt. Dad and Uncle Jack were both at least six feet and their father had been that tall as well. Richard was the only one who had been considered short, mostly since he had been shorter than Cinda by an inch. Matt, however, was about as tall as me, rendering him the shortest bloke in my family. We weren't sure if it was just Richard's genes in him or some sort of side effect of the lycanthropy or one of the potions he'd taken as a child. Whatever the reason, it was a bit of a sore point with him.
“Amy's got a boyfriend,” Matt said suddenly, snapping me out of my reverie.
Cinda turned to me and patted my hand. “Really? Tell me everything about him! Is he a wizard? When did it happen? Why haven't you told me yet?”
I glared at Matt and he smiled smugly before leaning back on the couch. Cinda wasn't going to mention Izzy's granddaughter again this visit, now that she found out I had a “boyfriend”. Which I didn't, because we'd only been on two dates.
“He's just a bloke I met at a pub. We've been out twice and he's definitely not my boyfriend-”
“Is he going to be?”
“I don't know, Cinda.” I sighed. This was exactly why I wasn't planning on telling Cinda about Dillan yet.
Cinda didn't rest until I had told her nearly all of the details of our dates as well as everything I knew about Dillan. It must have wore her out because by the time visiting hours were over, she was asking fewer questions. I nudged Matt awake (clearly my talk of Dillan had been boring him), we said goodbye, and left.
“Thanks,” I muttered as we left the building. “For telling her about Dillan.”
“Sorry. I needed her off my back about that girl. Didn't have the energy to put up with it today.”
“Clearly,” I replied. “Seeing as you fell asleep while I was giving Cinda details about my date that I didn't even give Victoire.”
“What? I was tired.”
“Full moon's not for three weeks. That excuse is not going to work today.”
“Fine,” he said. “I ratted you out for my own benefit. I am deeply sorry. Happy?”
“Yes.” I grinned at him and we Disapparated.
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Sunday 8 August 2010 04 51 20 pm Post subject: Re: Beyond the Shadow in topic:Beyond the Shadow
Chapter 13: The Riddleless Ravenclaw
I was honestly worried that I would not get out of work in time to go out with Dillan, and what was more shocking was that I was actually upset about it. Usually when work got in the way of social engagements I didn't care and was often even relieved. For whatever reason this was different and I wanted nothing more than to leave the hospital and go to whatever restaurant Dillan had reservations at.
No sooner had Matt vacated the Dai Lewellyn ward had a couple idiots turned up who decided to get into it with a hippogriff, resulting in bites that would scar. Served them right, I thought, aggravating a poor hippogriff. As much as I loved how much I helped people in my job, I hated the fact that part of it was cleaning up the messes of idiots. That cut into my brewing time so I had to stay late to work on a batch of Skele-Gro, which resulted in my staying at St. Mungo's until 7:30 on Friday night.
Fifteen minutes later I was back in my flat taking a very fast shower and hoping I had something in my closet that was nice enough to wear to a fancy restaurant with Dillan. Once I stepped back into my bedroom, I found Victoire sitting on my bed alongside a very elegant navy blue dress with long sleeves that looked like it would go down to my knees.
“You are a godsend,” I said as I grabbed the dress and walked back into the bathroom. “Where did you get it?”
“My closet,” she shouted through the door. “Another one of those things I actually thought I might be able to fit into again after having Sophie but now have no hope whatsoever since having twins will surely be twice as bad for my body.”
“Well, my wardrobe has certainly benefited from your pregnancies,” I replied. “Thanks.”
“Hey, that dress did its magic on Teddy and now it's time for it to do the same with Dillan.”
“Victoire!” I shouted as I stuck my head out into the hall. She was grinning mischievously. “This is only our second date. It's not like I'm going to marry the guy.”
“You never know. I never thought I'd marry the kid who I played Exploding Snap with while our grandmothers baked banana bread in the other room,” Victoire pointed out.
“I still don't even want to think about marriage at this point. I just want to have a good evening,” I said.
“You will,” Victoire said as she stood up. She flicked her wand a few times to dry and straighten my hair. “Now stop worrying and just loosen up.”
“I'm not worried; why do you think I'm worried?”
“We've been friends for fifteen years. I know when you're worried,” Victoire said. “Oh, I meant to ask you earlier, I'm on call this weekend, so could you watch Sophie if I get called in? Ted's on another mission.”
“Of course. How long does he think this one's going to last?”
“He doesn't think it'll go past Sunday,” Victoire replied. “Let me know if anything exciting happens tonight and I really want to hear all about this bloke. Come over to dinner at my place tomorrow if I'm not called in.”
“Definitely,” I said.
“See you tomorrow, then,” Victoire said as she left the flat.
I paced in my living room for a few minutes before there was a knock on the door at exactly eight-thirty. Dillan was punctual, that was for sure. The last bloke I had dated was always at least ten minutes late for anything, which was one of the many reasons I broke it off with him.
I opened the door and saw Dillan standing in the corridor with a bouquet of wildflowers. They were various shades of blue and green.
“You look great in that dress,” he said as he handed me the flowers. “Hope you like wildflowers. I was going to go with roses, but I thought these were more your style.”
I stepped aside to let him in and went to put the flowers in a vase, leaving him in the entryway, which gave me time to return my breathing back to normal. How did he know I hated roses? I never mentioned a thing about how Cinda decorated my bedroom in her house with a rose theme, resulting in my hatred of the flower.
“I love the flowers,” I said once I returned. “And I hate roses. Did you take Divination?”
“For a year. Thought it would be an easy class. I was wrong, so I switched to Ancient Runes,” he replied. “Well, I've got reservations at a French restaurant a few blocks away. It's a Muggle one, so I thought we'd walk.”
“You sure like Muggle restaurants, don't you?” I commented as we left the flat.
“Muggles have a way with food that most wizards don't. Magic tends to ruin food, I've noticed.”
“You've never eaten my friend Victoire's grandmother's cooking then,” I said.
“Nope, can't say that I have. What about your grandmothers? Are they the cooking type?”
“Let's put it this way, when my mum's mother, Cinda, lived in her house in Australia, her oven and stove were just for show. My dad's mum, she cooked a bit, but I don't really remember much. She died when I was young.”
“We're in the same boat, then. My grandmothers, bless their hearts, wouldn't have known what to do with a spatula if it came with an instruction manual. Guess that's why I've eaten at practically every restaurant in London.”
It wasn't a very long walk to the restaurant and the weather was surprisingly nice anyway. Cold, but not windy, which was pretty much considered beautiful for January. It was a very small and quiet restaurant with dim lighting and cozy booths. Nobody in it seemed to be under the age of twenty and all of the waiters and waitresses were wearing suits.
The maitre d' led us to a booth in the back and lit the candle on the table before producing two menus and telling us that our server would be with us shortly. I opened my menu only to discover that the entire thing was in French and the extent of my knowledge of the French language is 'bonjour', 'fromage', and 'ou es la toilet?'. Sure, knowing French was common for a lot of people in England but since I spent my first fourteen years in Australia I never bothered learning it. I should have Victoire give me a brief lesson in it sometime.
“I haven't the slightest idea what any of this means,” I whispered across the table.
“It's ok,” he assured me. “I'll order for you.”
I suppressed the urge to rattle off a list of foods I didn't like and decided to just let him order for me. French food was French food, right? It was all going to be gourmet and amazing. I could always just eat around the mushrooms, trying not to be very obvious with picking them out.
The waiter arrived and Dillan must have ordered something in French because a few minutes later the waiter delivered a bottle of red wine, a baguette, and a platter of cheese to the table. I assumed it was brie, and tentatively put some onto a piece of baguette while Dillan poured two glasses of wine. The French cheese was actually really good.
“So,” I began as I spread a bit more cheese on another piece of bread, “what house were in you in at Hogwarts?”
“Ravenclaw,” Dillan answered after setting down his glass. “Spent most of my time wishing I was in Hufflepuff because I'm terrible with riddles. Usually had to wait until someone else wanted to get into the common room before I could. Bloody embarrassing as a seventh year, waiting for the eleven-year-olds to let me in.”
I didn't even try to suppress my laugh. “Poor Dillan, forced to wait every time he wanted to get into the common room.”
“You'd think the Sorting Hat, having the brains of Godric Gryffindor, would have been able to tell that I couldn't solve a riddle to save my life, let alone gain me entrance into the common room,” Dillan muttered.
“Maybe it likes a joke?” I suggested.
“Pretty awful joke if you ask me, making someone be the butt of everyone's jokes for seven years. The only Ravenclaw too stupid to get into his own common room. The Slytherins called me 'Dumb Dillan' for two years before they realized it had gotten old. Then they dubbed me the 'Riddleless Ravenclaw'.”
“Really? You were known throughout the school for this?” I asked. I'd never heard of anyone not being able to get into their common room. Either Dillan was a lot older or younger than me, or I was clueless while at Hogwarts. “What year did you graduate?”
“2013. What about you?”
“2017, but I didn't move to England until 2013, so I started Hogwarts the year after you graduated. That would explain why I hadn't heard of the Riddleless Ravenclaw.”
“If you call me that I'll order you the escargot,” Dillan said as he ripped off a chunk of bread.
“That's one bit of French that I do know and I won't let you order me snails.”
“Too bad. They're tasty.”
The waiter returned and Dillan ordered something in French. I did hear the word 'escargot', but I really hoped he was ordering them for himself. But really, who could possibly enjoy eating snails? Even Victoire didn't like them and she was half-French.
“You really like escargot?” I asked after the waiter left.
“Sure,” Dillan replied. “It's an acquired taste, but it's pretty good.”
“Is there any food you don't like?”
“Nope.” Dillan grinned.
We both reached for our wine glasses at the same time, resulting in a few moments of silence, but it wasn't awkward like so many silences during other dates I'd been on.
I set down my glass. “So how did a Ravenclaw such as yourself start working as a counterfeit coin checker at Gringotts?”
“That would be the result of my inability to make a decision about what I wanted to do with my life so I got a menial job to do while I decided and well, sixteen years later, I still haven't decided. Well, I've sort of decided.”
Completely the opposite of me, I thought, as I had my entire career planned out at the age of fifteen. “What did you decide on?”
“You're going to think I'm crazy,” Dillan began. “But I would love to open my own restaurant.
“Like a pub?”
“No, like a real restaurant, like this only less fancy,” Dillan explained. “I like to cook, Muggle style, of course. That's the idea, I'll start a restaurant in the magical world, only I wouldn't use magic to cook. Some place like Diagon Alley or something.”
“That's not crazy,” I said. “You should do what you really want to do.”
“You think?” Dillan asked. “It would be a risk, of course, starting a business always is, but my parents left me enough when they died and I haven't spent it. They weren't rich by any means, but it's enough start-up for a restaurant.”
“Then do it,” I told him. “You obviously want to.”
“It's weird, though, I always thought I'd work for the Ministry like my dad did and his dad before him, doing some sort of middle of the road job and then retiring with enough to get by.”
“My dad works for the Ministry and so does my brother. I couldn't do it, though. I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut when I needed to. Politics are just too...political,” I replied. “What department did your dad work in?”
“He was an obliviator, so he worked wherever he was needed. Definitely an interesting department and he always had stories when he came home, but I just can't see myself being a Ministry worker. What about your dad and your brother?”
“My dad's Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and my brother works in Werewolf Support Services,” I said.
“Wow, your dad's pretty high up there. Is your brother going to follow in his footsteps?”
“I don't know. I mean, my dad's never been one to sit back and watch things happen, which is how he got that position. He started in Werewolf Support Services here, but he had been Head of the entire magical creatures department in Australia, too. My whole family's like that, though, wanting to change the world kind of thing, always have been. Matt's different, though.” I paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. There was no way Matt would ever be head of the department, being a werewolf. “I don't think he's outspoken enough.”
“What about you?” Dillan asked. “Are you going to change the world?”
At that moment the waiter arrived with our food. Even though I had already decided I wasn't going to tell Dillan about my work with the Wolfsbane, at least not yet, I was grateful. Maybe he would forget his question. I knew there was a big difference between telling him about the Wolfsbane and telling him about Matt, but the two were so interconnected for me that telling him about the first would almost be like telling him about the latter.
The waiter set some sort of chicken dish in front of me and luckily it did not contain any mushrooms. It actually looked quite good. Dillan had his escargot along with some sort of steak dish. Like with the pizza, Dillan waited for me to try my meal before he tried his own. I took a bite and yet again, Dillan had introduced me to an amazing dish.
“Delicious,” I said after I had swallowed.
“Glad you like it, but I'm not waiting for you to try the food, you know.” He smiled and I realized he was waiting for me to answer the question about changing the world.
“I guess you could say I'm not trying to change the world like my dad is, but I'm just trying to make it easier for a few people.”
“See, that to me is changing the world more than what they do at the Ministry, no offense to your dad or anything.”
“None taken,” I replied as I began to dig into my chicken.
I never really thought of what I was doing as changing the world anyway. Changing the world to me seemed like something that would involve bringing about world peace or solving poverty or ending world hunger, or even like what Harry Potter did, but not fixing a potion that someone else created.
Whether Dillan was analyzing my answer or merely enjoying his steak, I didn't know, but we were silent for the next few minutes, each of us lost in our food and thoughts. I'd never met anyone like Dillan before, and it both excited and scared me. The last thing I wanted was for him to be like the few blokes I had dated before, but it's honestly what I expected. I expected him to be a nine-to-five Ministry drone who wanted to spend every minute of every weekend together completely forgetting the fact that my job wouldn't allow for that. But Dillan didn't give off that vibe, simply because he wanted to open a restaurant and that would require a lot of his time.
We finished our dinners over the next half hour, pausing for sips of wine and tales of our times at Hogwarts. We both ranted about Professor Washburn and the Slytherins who had tormented us. But we also talked about the good times, the times we snuck out of our dormitories with our friends and impromptu trips to the kitchens.
By the time dessert arrived (crème brule, something surprisingly tasty for not having any chocolate in it), we were laughing and had earned glares by other patrons. I suppose loud raucous laughter was frowned upon in fancy restaurants. Dillan paid the bill and we were soon back out in the cold winter night.
The sidewalks were less crowded now, and the only people out and about were hurrying towards buildings, most likely due to the fact that the wind had picked up. I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself as Dillan took my hand and squeezed it.
“I had fun tonight.” I said as I smiled up at him.
“Me too,” Dillan agreed. “I was wondering if maybe I could cook dinner for you sometime, now that I've told you about my restaurant idea.”
“I'd like that.”
“Next weekend then? Friday or Saturday, whichever works better for you,” Dillan suggested.
Next weekend. Next weekend I was on call. I was a little taken aback at how upset I was about this. Normally when blokes asked for second or third dates I hoped they'd pick a day when I was on call, just so I'd have a decent excuse to say no, but not this time. This time I wished I wasn't.
“I'm actually on call next weekend,” I said quietly. “I wish I could, though.”
“Not a problem. How about the weekend after?”
“That would be great.” I smiled.
A few minutes later we reached my flat building. We paused at the door and Dillan took both of my hands. I gazed into his eyes and smiled as I noticed they were the perfect chocolate color. He smiled back and tilted his head as he leaned closer to me. His lips met mine and I closed my eyes. The kiss was brief, like all first kisses are, but to me it was the perfect length. We were both smiling when we pulled apart and I could feel the heat in my cheeks, despite the frigid air.
“Good night, Amy,” he said quietly, still smiling at me.
“Good night, Dillan,” I echoed, still in a daze from the kiss.
He walked away slowly, looking back every so often to gaze at me. I stood at the door until he disappeared into a nearby alley and I imagined the sound of him Apparating. Only then did I walk inside, still feeling his lips on mine.
Joined: 13 January 2008
Location: In role play game of course!
Posted: Wednesday 28 July 2010 10 33 43 am Post subject: Re: Next Generation 2 in topic:Next Generation 2
Geneve kept turning around and around, flinching at every sound. She fumbled for her want and held it out. "Lumos!" she shouted. Behind her, the forest floor cracked. She spun around.
"Who's there?" she asked, her voice shaking. She stared into the trees. It was getting dark. She decided to let her eyes wonder to look for her broom. She did not see it anywhere near her. Then she realised, something was watching her. And they were close. She froze. Her breathing increased. And then, it felt like her heart stopped. She turned around and there, only a few footsteps away, was a wizard dressed in black, a hood over their face. It was eerie, like they didn't have feet. Whoever it was stood terribly still.
Geneve stood stupidly quiet, her wand still extended in lumos. She was shaking. "Hello?" she stammered. "Who.. who are you?" The wizard remained motionless. Geneve was sure she was going to faint.
"Ri... right. Well, I guess I'll be going now..." Geneve started to back away, but fell over a tree root. She lay back on the forest floor, lumos light glowing, shuffling and struggling to get back up. The wizard moved like a ghost and knelt down beside her. Geneve stopped struggling. Something calmed her, and then she saw it. IT was a green mist, coming from a vial in his hand. Human, pale hand. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she layed back, entranced.
"You will remember.. nothing." the voice, a sweet voice, a kind voice. She surrendered and tumbled into a dreamless sleep.
Geneve woke up in her bed. she was wearing her night gown and her bed was warm from her sleeping in it for a while. She sat up and looked outside. She tried to pull her thoughts together but could not. She knew she had been out flying with Professor Nomare. But... she had come back. She leaned back on her pillow and sighed. Tom jumped up on her blankets and started to purr.
Geneve reached up to loosen her hair, realising that she had gone to bed in a rush as her hair had not been taken out or washed. She was puzzled. she decided to go to the bathroom and try to gather her thoughts. She gathered up Tom, her towel and her bag of soaps and shampoos, and made her way out into the hall.
Joined: 19 July 2008
Posted: Friday 23 July 2010 11 25 02 pm Post subject: Re: The boy who live and the Vampires Slayer comes to Hogwart sc in topic:The boy who live and the Vampires Slayer comes to Hogwart sc
**** Just a small note if you read the first chapters of the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth or seventh year stories that I posted, but I have now chosen to stop writing all seven of the stories at once and to start writing one at a time, you may have notices that I have changes the name of Bethany’s snowy owl from White Rose to Starburst. I did this because female white owls are not completely white but have brown or black markings on them, so the name just did not seem to fit the owl. Also Harry owl Hedwig is a female snowy owl too, but In the films, Hedwig is played by male owls, as male Snowy Owls are whiter. And in the story banner you might have also notice I change Bethany and Tonks bedroom looks for how I had it in the first chapter of the third story, I did this because I did not care for how it uses to look.
A/N: I have decided to give a family tree here so you know who Bethany is relation too in the Harry Potter story line. Eileen (Prince) Snape Born 1930 ( Has two brother and one sister that I made up) aunt, maybe in Slytherin house), Severus Snape ( Eileen and Tobias son) born January 9, 1960 (cousin of Bethany Tonks, Bluebell Prince and Aldabella prince made up), Tobias Snape maybe born in the 1930 ( Eileen husband and Severus father also a Muggle) Edward Prince (Uncle, was in Slytherin house) Born in May 20 1935-1981 kill by unknown death eater and his Patronus was a lion (I made up), Blossom (Burke) Prince born April 10 1934-1981 killed by unknown death eater patronus lioness (Belvina (Black) Burke and Herbert Burke daughter and is Edward wife, she was in Slytherin house, I made up), Bluebell Prince born Oct 2 1980( Blossom and Edward daughter) lives with Snape and is in Slytherin, but later ask to be resorted at the beginning of her fifth year and her patronus is a female tiger (I made up), Elwyn prince born July 24 1940- Oct 2 1981 killed by death eater Rodolphus Lestrange and his patronus is a owl (was in Ravenclaw House ( Uncle, I made up), Lucius Malfoy (has one sister, which I made up(Uncle) son of Abraxas Malfoy), Narcissa Malfoy (aunt and Lucius wife), Draco Malfoy June 5, 1980 (cousins), Carly (Malfoy) Prince September 7, 1942-Dec. 9, 1981, her patronus was a butterfly ( Aldabella mother and Draco’s aunt and also Lucius sister) (Elwyn wife and also was in Ravenclaw house, which her parents hated), Aldabella Prince Born Dec. 9 1981, shorted into Gryffindor house and her Patronus is a Mermaid and Centaur (Name means old and noble, called Bella for short by her aunt Narcissa, uncle Lucius and cousin Draco and she is Elwyn and Carly daughter, She see in the first story only once and mention a few times, but does not come into the story as a major character to Harry second year at Hogwart and Aldabella is in the same year as Ginny Weasley. She went to live with Lucius, Narcissa and Draco after her mom die shortly after her birth), Elizabeth (Prince) Tonks (Bethany mother) born December 31, 1954- Oct 28, 1981 and patronus was a unicorn and she was in Slytherin house, Timmothy Tonks (?Aug 1?) 1954- Oct 28, 1981 was in Gryffindor house Patronus was a horse (Bethany father and Ted Tonks twin brother (I made up), Ted Tonks 1954 was in Hufflepuff house (uncle), Andromeda Tonks 1954 was in Slytherin house (aunt), Nymphadora Tonks 1973 was in Hufflepuff house Patronus werewolf (cousin). Bethany Tonks August 31, 1978, Patronus Unicorn, weasel and Dragon. The next four are Bethany and Fred children which comes into play in Harry, Ron, Hermione and Bethany fifth and sixth year, Lily May Eileen Weasley May 1, 1996 Patronus will be a Jack Russell terrier, James Sirius Snape Weasley May 1, 1996 Patronus will be a Otter, Haven Ginny Elizabeth Weasley April 28, 1998 Patronus will be a Pegasus and Hans Draco Timmothy Weasley April 28, 1998 Patronus will be a Phoenix, Ron Weasley (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco uncle) Patronus Jack Russell Terrier , Arthur Weasley (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco grandfather) Patronus Weasel, Molly (Prewett) Weasley (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco Grandma), Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley , Percy Weasley, Fred Weasley (Father), George Weasley, Ginny (Weasley) Potter (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco aunt) Hermione (Granger) Weasley Patronus Otter (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco become they aunt when she marry Ron ), Rose Weasley (Ron and Hermione daughter), Hugo Weasley (Ron and Hermione son), Harry Potter Patronus Stag (Lily May, James Sirius, Heaven Ginny and Hans Draco uncle when he marry Ginny), James Potter II (Harry and Ginny son), Albus Potter (Harry and Ginny son), Lily Potter (Harry and Ginny daughter), also relation to Mrs. and Mr. Weasley (Molly and Arthur) parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, Etc.
So there you go, a family tree to let you all know who Bethany Tonks is relation too. Also I was not able to found where Tonks family home actual was in the Harry potter story, all I could found online was that it is in the united Kingdom, so I just chose the countryside town of Honiton, East Devon. I chose this countryside town because it is in the same district that Ottery St. Catchpole, Ottery St. Mary and Otterton, Budleigh Salterton, Exmouth, Seaton, Sidmouth along with Axminster Rural District and part of St. Thomas Rural and I also chose this because the Weasley family house is just outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, so this makes the Tonks in the some district as the Weasley, but not in the some town seeing that Hagrid and Harry use Tonks house as a safe location in the seventh book.
Chapter Two: A family reunion: Part one
Outside Bethany aunt, uncle and cousin are loading her Steamer trunks into her uncles’ car. Bethany’ s is upstairs in the bedroom, she shares with her cousin Tonks (Nymphadora) who just finish her seventh year of Hogwart in June, Bethany is looking around the bedroom making sure she has not left anything she needs for school or slaying behind in the bedroom. Bethany looks at her cousin bed which has a solid blue bedspread with light blue stars on it and then look up at the wall above the bed and sees the Hufflepuff house banner and the banner for Hogwart with all the school houses on it and begins to think about what house she will be shorted into and know she could end up in any of the four houses seeing that she has had family members that were in Hufflepuff, Slytherin house, Gryffindor house and Ravenclaw house . She then looks over at her bed which is the one with the light blue bedspread with medium blue striped on it. She then looks over at the desks, which are up against the wall on the left-hand side of Bethany bed (if you are standing in front of the end of the bed, looking towards the headboard) and she notices the empty bird cage and at the sometime her new snowy owl Starburst comes flying through the opening bedroom window and she sees that her watcher Remus Lupin has sent a reply back to the letter she sent him last night. Starburst flies over to Bethany and lands on her right shoulder Bethany’s takes the latter off the leg and goes over to her cousins’ desk and gets an owl treat out and then she gives the owl treat to her owl, who fly off her owner shoulder and into the opening bird cage. Bethany goes over and closes the cage door and then opens up the letter and starts pacing as she starts to read her letter, which says Dear Bethany thanks for sending me a letter using your new owl last night, so I know what the owl looks like. She is a very sweat owl and I am happy you did not buy a small Scops Owl like you were thinking about getting, because then you would have had to borrow a school owl for long distance trips and since I will be traveling a lot this year, that would be a big pain, seeing that my owl pass away three days ago and I have not get a new one yet, when I get a new owl I will let you know. As for what you ask me in the letter, it best if I talk to you about that in person, I will meet you at the train station and we will talk about it in one of the waiting room, before you get on the train to Hogwart.
I will see you at the train station tomorrow and by the way I am picking up your cousin Bluebell Prince for Severus Snape house and give her a ride to the train station seeing that Severus has to be at Hogwart in the morning, But I have to go now.
Your watcher Remus Lupin
Bethany folds the letter up and kneels down next to her school bag. She then pulls the flap cover up on her school bag and she puts the letter into the main compartment of the bag. Bethany closes the flap cover and stand up, she picks her school bag up and put the shoulder strap onto her right shoulder. She then walks over and picks up the bird cages that Starburst is in and walks towards the bedroom door. When she reaches the door of the bedroom, Bethany stops for a few seconds and looks across the hallway to her aunt and uncles’ bedroom and at the hallway which is printing gold. She then walks out of her and Tonks bedroom, turning to the stair case on the right, if coming out of Tonks and Bethany’s bedroom and to the left if coming out of Bethany’s aunt and uncle bedroom. As she walks down the staircase Bethany wish that her watcher would have answers her questions about the dream she keeps having about the new Defense Against the dark art teacher Quirinus Quirrell, because if the dream is right then, he could cause major trouble at Hogwart school of witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Bethany’s thought quickly changes as she walks down the staircase, to for the first time in my life who will there be for me to talk with when I wake up from one of my awful nightmare about when my parents or Harry Potter parents’ were killed or about my prophetic dreams, seeing I could always talk to Tonks, my aunt and Uncle or Remus Lupin. As she reaches the last step of the staircase, she thinks to herself I might be able to talk to Harry at lest about the nightmare about how our parents were killed, But I have to ask Lupin what I should do if I have a prophetic dream at Hogwart. Bethany looks into the conservatory and outside taking in how beautiful the countryside of Honiton is. She hears her aunt come through the front door and turns her back on the conservatory and walks down the hallway, which walls are printing sliver on the top half and gold on the bottom half of the walls. Bethany walks past the dining room on her left-hand side, she then walks past the kitchen also on her left-hand side and then turn to her right and into the reception room/library and at the sometime her Aunt Andromeda walks up to her.
“ Are you ready to leave Bethany?”
“Yeah I am ready to go now.”
“ I see that Starburst is back, did Remus Lupin write you back?”
“ Yeah Remus Lupin, write me back aunt Andromeda!”
“ What did he say Bethany?”
“ This is what Remus Lupin told me “ He says that Starburst is a very sweat owl and I am happy you did not buy a small Scops Owl like you were thinking about getting, because then you would have had to borrow a school owl for long distance trips and since I will be traveling a lot this year, that would be a big pain, seeing that my owl pass away three days ago and I have not get a new one yet, when I get a new owl I will let you know. As for what you ask me in the letter, it best if I talk to you about that in person, I will meet you at the train station and we will talk about it in one of the waiting room, before you get on the train to Hogwart. I will see you at the train station tomorrow and by the way I am picking up your cousin Bluebell Prince for Severus Snape house and give her a ride to the train station seeing that Severus has to be at Hogwart in the morning, But I have to go now.
Your watcher Remus Lupin ” But I wish he would have answers my question about the dream, because I had the dream again last night.”
“ Remus Lupin say he will meet you at the train station, so you will found out what he thinks about the dream soon enough.”
“ Ok, But I help Severus Snape is not home when Remus Lupin gets to his house to pink up Bluebell, seeing that he never like the fact that he is a werewolf.”
“But he is showing that he trusts Remus by letting him give Bluebell a ride to the train stations and that is a good thing. Also we need to get going, now Bethany.”
“ Ok, lets go!”
Bethany and her aunt walk towards the down and pass the drawing room on the right and setting room on the left, if facing the front door and then walk out of the house. Bethany walks towards the driveway and Andromeda closes and locks the front door behind her, at the sometime Bethany sees that her uncle and cousin are already in the red 1988 Ford Orion. Bethany opens up the driver side passengers’ door and gets into the car. Bethany then sets Starburst’s cage on the seat in between Tonks and her. The white owl that has brown marking on her head, back, wings and tail looks at Tonks and then at Bethany she then close her eyes, which are yellow with black pupils. Starburst goes to sleep as Mr. Tonks backs the car out of the driveway at the sometime Bethany has just set her school bag on the floor behind her feet. Bethany opens her school bag and takes out Magical Droughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger and starts to read the book. This textbook is one of two potion textbooks Professor Snape requires his students to have, the other textbook is One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Tonks look over at her cousin and see she is reading Magical Drafts and Potions and then Tonks then lays her head against the back of the seat and listing to the car radio, which is on the Wizarding Wireless Network and is playing the song, Do the Hippogriff by The Weird Sisters and differs off to sleep and start dreaming of her first day in Professor Snape potions class and she can see herself setting at one of the table in the back of the Dungeon classroom, she has both textbooks out which are Magical Droughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi out along with her Cauldron and Scales, but has not getting out any potion ingredients, since she does not know what potion Professor Snape will assign for the first potions class, which just happens to be a double period. Tonks and the rest of the class turn around looking towards the classroom door when they hear it slam shut and see Professor Snape walking towards the front of the classroom. Snape turns towards the class when he gets to the front of the room and look around at the new first year students.
“ Class today’s lesson we are making the boil cure potion, each one of you will need these ingredients: dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, stewed horned slugs, porcupine quills and Flobberworm Mucus. If you have not getting out your cauldron and scales do so now, if you have your cauldron and scale out please get the potion ingredients out of your supplies if you have them, if not you can go over to the students potion ingredient storage cabinet and get them from there.
The Slytherin house students, Charlie Weasley and Tonks were the only students that had both their cauldron and also their scale out and the rest of the students had to get them out. But out of the group that had their scales and cauldrons out only Tonks and Charlie Weasley had to go up to the students potion ingredient storage cabinet. Charlie and Tonks stand up at the sometime and the two of them start walking towards the cabinet together. They are half way to the storage cabinet when Tonks does not see an old rust cauldron that on the classroom floor and trips over the cauldron which cause her to falls down. She looks up to see the whole classroom staring at, which cause her face and hair to turn red with embarrassed at the sometime Charlie walks over and kneels down next to her.
“ Are you all right?”
“ Yeah just embarrassed is all, I should have seen that cauldron.”
“ It could have been worst, my older brother Bill, who just started his second year here said during his first potions class a kid trip and fell face first into the boil cure potion.”
“ I guess you are right!”
“Do you need help getting up?”
“ No, I can get up on my own, but if you could get my potion ingredients for me, so I can go to the lavatory and get clean up?”
Starburst who has been pulling at Tonks sleeve and trying to get her to wake up stop pulling at her sleeve and start picking Tonks hand with her beak. Tonks look down at the owl and then around the car and see that she and the owl are the only ones in the car, she then looks out the car window and see her cousin, mom and dad walking towards the trunk of the car. Tonks take her seatbelt off and open up the car door. Bethany looks up from getting a streamer trunk out of the trunk of the car when she hears Tonks close the car door. Andromeda walks over to her door and takes a close look at her.
“ Mom why are you looking at me with that worry mother look?”
“ Because you sleep the whole way to King Cross is why and normal you more talking on the why here and you were talking in your sleep and it was about your first day it potions class are you feeling alright because you look tired?”
“ Great now, you all know the embarrassing way I meet Charlie Weasley.”
“ It not that embarrassing Tonks, at lest you did not trip in front of the whole school and knock Charlie Weasley down too!”
“True, it just not the way I would have want to meet him for the first time.
“ Nymphadora Tonks you did not answers your mom question!”
“ Yeah I feel fine, just tired is all I did not sleep good last night!”
“ Bethany get back to work and Tonks start to help us get Bethany streamer trunks and Owl out of the car, we still have to meet with Remus Lupin’s before taking Bethany trough the barrier onto platform 9 3/4!”
“ Yes dad!”
“ Did not give me yes dad Nymphadora Tonks and there are no Trolley left so we have to carrying the trunks into the waiting room, then Tonks, Andromeda, Bluebell or I can go look for one that not been used when Bethany talking to Remus!”
“ Ok uncle Ted”
Tonks hair changing from purple to a reddish/ pink color, but like her cousin, dad and mom she gets to work helping unloading the streamer trunks out of the trunk of the car. Once all the streamer trunks are out of the car trunk Bethany gets Starburst who is in her birdcage still out of the car and joins her aunt, uncle and cousin in looking at the six trunks, because there are two large trunks which are full of clothing plus her school textbooks, notebooks, parchments, quill and ECT along with three medium trunks two of them have her slayer books and one of them has the rest of her slayer supply and the sixth trunk is the small trunk which has her potion ingredients in it.
“The two medium trunks with the books are the heaviest trunks. The next heavy trunk is the light brown because it has clothing, plus school textbooks, notebooks, parchments. quill and ECT in it.”
“ Bethany, how many do you think each of us should take or how many do you want to carry?”
“ I will carry the three medium trunks, uncle Ted!”
“ I take the brownish/ blackish large one, Dromeda (nickname Ted calls his wife) how about you take the large light brown trunk and Dora (Ted nickname for his daughter) carry the small trunk and the owl!”
Both Tonks and Andromeda shank their heads yes and Bethany hand Tonks the birdcage Starburst is in. Then the four of them all pick up the trunk or trunks they are carrying and walks into the train station. Bluebell and Remus Lupin who are watching for Bethany, Ted, Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks from the door of the waiting room. When Bluebell see her cousin, the girl with dark brown hair (almost black) and brown eyes, she runs out of the waiting room and over to Bethany and takes the top trunk off the top of the pile of three trunks Bethany is carrying and leads the four Tonks to the Waiting room, Remus Lupin close the frosted glass doors of the waiting room when they are all inside of the room. Bethany set the two trunks she carrying up against the frosted Glass wall and Bluebell set the one she carry on top of the two Bethany set down. Tonks set the small one on top of the trunks Bluebell just put done. Andromeda set the trunk she carrying in front of the pile of four and Ted puts the trunk he carry down next to the trunk he wife set down. By now Remus, Bethany and Tonks is standing near the fire place and Bethany has put her school bag down up against the wall that the fire place is on and Remus, Tonks and her are standing in front of. Andromeda has set done on the top end of trunk her husband was carrying, seeing that it was set done on end to end instead of set the bottom of the trunk on the floor. Ted is leaning against the glass wall. Bluebell is set in one of the chairs that in the row against the wall and has her feet on the chair in front of her and she wrap her arms around her legs just below her knees and is looking toward Ted who has medium length brown hair and brown eyes and Andromeda who also has brown hair and brown eyes . Also, Bluebell’s cat Gypsy has just opened Starburst’s cage which is setting on top of the light brown streamer trunk and is now playing with Tonks boot laces. Remus Lupin looks at his slayer and then out Bluebell.
“ Preteen and teenage today are different then when I was that age.”
“ Why are we so different Mr. Remus Lupin?”
“ Well for one Bluebell preteen and teenage did not come to King cross to leave for their first day at Hogwart wearing a long sleeve green t-shirt with a camouflage t-shirt and jeans or Jeans with holes in them or a white tank top with a 3/4 sleeve suit jacket. They also did not have purple highlights in their hair!”
“ Well time have changes Remus Lupin, now will you answers the question I ask in the note that I write you last night?”
“ Yes I will Bethany, I would keep a eye on Quirinus Quirrell, because if He who must not be name is still semi alive and has possessed him and is share his body then Harry Potter could be in grave danger this year and I want you to keep an eye on Harry Potter this year and make sure he stays safe and out of harms way. And yes it is also possibly that He who must not be name wants him to find and steal the sorcerer stone for him.
“ I have another question for you Remus Lupin”.
“ What is the question Bethany?”
“ What should I do if I have a prophecy dream at Hogwart?”
“ You can sent me a owl or if you need an answer fast then that you can talk to Albus Dumbledore or Severus Snape about it. And also Albus Dumbledore will know where I am at all times, so if you really feel that you need to talk to me in person, go talk to him and he will help you get to where I am at that day.”
“ Ted and I are going to go and see if we can found two trolleys, one for Bluebell and also one for Bethany”.
Bethany: Ok aunt Andromeda”.
Ted open the door and Andromeda walk out of the waiting room fellow by Ted who closes the door behind them. Bluebell stands up and picks up her cat Gypsy and walks over to the cat carry which is on top of her steamer trunk and opens the cat carry up. Bluebell then puts Gypsy inside the carry and close it up, she also close Bethany owl cage and then goes and set back down and Tonks takes a set next to her.
“ Bluebell what is Professor Snape like at home, because as a potion professor he is really tough and favor Slytherin house students over the other students and if you not in slytherin house you better not mess around in his class or he will take house points off your house total and he is a very tough grade too?”
“ He is actual the complete opposite at home.”
“ You mean he is caring and has a soft side?”
“ Yeah and if I am really upset about something and need to talk he is a great listens and he always be able to comfort me when I had a nightmare, but he is very protected of me just as if he was my real dad even there he is only my cousin. But I guess that a good thing seeing that he has been a father figure to me since my mother and father died when I was still a born and he is old enough to be my father!”
Just then Ted and Andromeda come back with two trolleys Tonks and Bluebell stop talking and Bethany and Bluebell loads their streamer trunks onto the trolleys that are close to their trunks and then Bethany goes and grabs her school bag and puts it on her right shoulder. Then the six of them leave the waiting room and head to the barrier that leads into platform 9 3/4!
Joined: 4 June 2010
Location: New Jersey USA
Posted: Friday 23 July 2010 10 41 07 pm Post subject: One Step at a Time in topic:One Step at a Time
[b]A/N So this is my first attempt at a HP fan fic. Let me know what you think. I do not own Harry Potter that is all JKR. [/b]
Harry woke up confused and disoriented. He could feel something warm pressed up against his side but he was unsure of what it could be. He looked around and could tell that he was in his four poster bed. He sat up slowly and was quickly reminded of the battle from the day before by the pain he was in. Every part of him hurt from the year long marathon that was finally over.
Harry looked down and realized that Ginny was the one that was pressed up against him. She must have crawled into bed with him after he fell asleep. Slowly he reached over and grabbed the Marauders map, making sure not to wake Ginny in the process. He whispered the incantation and the map slowly came into focus. Harry wanted to make sure where everyone was before he put the his plan into action. His first step was to find Ginny but she made that one easy for him because she came to him during the night. The map showed that Ron and Hermione where in Ron’s bed, Percy and George were also in the room as was Seamus and Dean. The rest of the Weasleys were in one of the other Gryffindor rooms and everyone else was in various dorms around the castle. The only exception to this was the aurors who were patrolling the halls to ensure safety.
Harry wiped the map and put it away. He bend down and kissed Ginny softly, first on each of her eyelids and then on her check. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave a smile as harry whispered, “Quietly, I do not want to wake anyone up, will you come with me?” She nodded and took his hand.
Harry led her out of the room and out the portrait hole. The Fat Lady smiled but said nothing. The auror who was patrolling the hall said, “Harry you are up early, where are you headed?” Harry just pulled Ginny along without answering him. Once Harry led Ginny down to the secluded tree by the black lake he sat down.
“Harry, what’s wrong? It’s over now.” Ginny was looking at Harry with concern all over her face. She sat down beside him and waited. After a few minutes Harry spoke. “I am so sorry Ginny. I am sorry for what I did to you. I am sorry for everyone who died in my war. I am sorry that I hurt you and,” Ginny interrupted Harry. She could not let him finish. “This was our war and you are not to blame for any of it. If you did not do anything think how many lives would have been lost. All of us who stood up and fought knew that we could die. We choose to risk ourselves for the ones we loved.” Ginny had to take a deep breath before she could continue. Then she took Harrys face in her hands and put her forehead to his. “As for hurting me, Harry, I was worried for you because I love you so much. In my heart I knew that we never really broke up. I knew that you would have stayed if you could. I love you, Harry James Potter.” With that she gave him a peck on the check.
Harry whispered into Ginny’s ear, ‘I love you more than life itself Ginerva Molly Weasley. You are the reason I kept going when my body wanted to stop. I would and will do anything to keep you safe.”
They kissed, slow at first but building. They kissed to make up for the year they were forced apart from their true other halves. They stretch out under the tree and fell asleep in each other’s arms in the early morning hours.
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Sunday 11 July 2010 04 45 38 pm Post subject: Re: Beyond the Shadow in topic:Beyond the Shadow
Chapter 12: Victoire's News
I thought it would have been easy to get sucked into work again and not think about my lunch with Dillan, but even while my mind was on wizards with plants sprouting out of their ears, witches with odd orange rashes, and children with spattergroit, Dillan was there in the back of my mind. It was strange since every other time I'd gone on a date I'd easily been able to forget about the blokes at work. Although, thinking about that now, it probably wasn't a good thing.
Victoire bombarded me with questions about the lunch as I was walking back to my study after clinic duty and I told her everything, as I promised. She was thoroughly excited and promised to help me pick out an outfit for our date on Friday. However we couldn't talk for very long since she was seeing patients all afternoon. As she headed back to the Spell Damage floor I headed off to find Morris to see if he'd ran Matt's tests yet.
Morris was in his study writing up notes when I entered a little while later. He must have known immediately why I was there because as soon as I sat down he handed me a piece of parchment with Matt's name, the date, and a time stamp of an hour earlier. It was his test results and according to them he no longer had any Wolfsbane in his system.
“Thank Merlin,” I muttered. “Did you run it twice to be sure?”
“Three times,” he answered. “They all gave the same results and Matt seems much better. He's tired of course, but I'm planning on discharging him before I go home tonight.”
I nodded. I'd insist he stay with me for the night, but he'd be far less bored in my flat than in the ward. “Mind if I keep this?”
“Go right ahead,” Morris said. “I've got another copy.”
“Thanks. I'm not starting a new version of the potion until I figure out why he reacted like this. I don't want it happening again,” I said.
“Probably a good idea,” Morris agreed. “Let me know what you find out.”
“I will,” I answered as I left his study.
My next stop was the ward, where I found Matt sitting up in bed reading some sort of book on the Chudley Cannons. He has so many books on that team that it makes me wonder not only where he finds them but what sort of authors would actually want to write books about such an awful Quidditch team. And I mean awful as in their playing, not that I hate them, because I'm quite indifferent about Quidditch.
“Hey, Amy,” he greeted me. “Hear the good news?”
“Sure did,” I replied. “All the Wolfsbane is gone, but we still haven't got a clue as to why it stayed in there. Morris said he's going to discharge you sometime today, but I think you should come spend the night at my place.”
“And you're not going back to work tomorrow. I think you need to rest another day,” I told him.
“Seriously? But I've already missed so many days.”
“Don't tell me you're starting to become a workaholic, too.” I groaned.
“No, you got all of those genes. It's just I know the only reason I got that job is because of Dad and I don't want to give the Ministry anymore reasons to dislike the fact that I'm working there.”
“They don't dislike it,” I argued.
“I'm not five anymore,” Matt said. “You can't hide stuff like that from me anymore.”
He had a point, I thought. “All right, we'll compromise. You can go in in the afternoon so long as you continue to get better tonight. I'm sure Morris would agree with me on this.”
“Ok, that'll work,” Matt agreed.
“Good,” I replied. “I'm going down to the basement to work for the rest of the afternoon, but I haven't got anymore patients to see today so when Morris discharges you we'll go home.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After swinging by my study to gather my very large collection of notes on every single version of Wolfsbane I had ever created, along with Matt's medical file from Morris's study, I headed down to the brewing rooms. By some stroke of luck I wasn't stopped by anyone on my way. I wasn't planning on doing any actual brewing that day, but experience had taught me that holing myself up in a brewing room would result in less interruptions than doing the same in my study.
My usual room was empty so I dumped the stack of notes onto the desk and settled down for what was sure to be a long afternoon. I couldn't risk creating a potion like my most recent one again so I had to figure out what had caused Matt to have such an awful reaction. The only way to do that was to study my notes until I reached some sort of conclusion.
Now that Matt was better and I had had a day to think about what had happened I realized that Morris was right. As awful as it had been for Matt to have a reaction like that to a potion, it was helpful in the long run. Generally, with experimental potions, negative reactions were better than no reaction at all when it came to figuring out how to make the potion better. When Matt had no reaction to a potion I created I had nothing to go on; all I was able to say was that that specific potion didn't work. Now I had a clue, something to tell me what was going wrong. If only I knew what that specific clue was.
No matter what Matt's reaction was to new potions, my first step afterwards was to add a new line into my ever expanding chart of failed potions. Each potion had a line that included the ingredients, the type of cauldron it was brewed in, the amounts of ingredients, and every other seemingly insignificant step that went into brewing potions. The littlest thing could be the difference between a useful and useless potion. Along with information about the actual potion I also kept a separate chart of each person who had taken each potion. The people varied, although Matt had taken each one. For that very reason (and of course the fact that he was my brother) I was focusing the most on his reactions.
Each year I created and tested either three or four potions and since I had been working on it for six years, there were a lot of entries. Some had been as useless as original Wolfsbane and others had had awful side effects, but the most recent one was the worst yet.
After entering the new information into the charts, the first thing I looked at was the concentration of pure Wolfsbane in the potion. Wolfsbane potion was different from pure Wolfsbane, the latter being the active ingredient in the potion. It is the most tricky ingredient to add and if the proportion of it to the other ingredients isn't right, it can have disastrous effects, which is why I thought it had something to do with Matt's reaction.
Regular Wolfsbane potion uses a concentration of .01 percent pure Wolfsbane. Most brewers agree that anything less than .008 concentration is completely useless while anything above .05 percent is deadly. My potions have ranged between .007 and .49 in terms of concentration, with the most recent having .04 percent.
Matt's reaction would have made more sense if the potion had had a higher concentration, especially since the potion made with .49 percent had had no effect on him whatsoever, with the Wolfsbane filtering out of his system in the normal twelve hour window. That meant that this was far more complicated than the concentration of pure Wolfsbane. It meant that it had something to do with a reaction amongst the ingredients.
To make matters even more confusing, Morris had discovered years ago that Matt had a very high metabolism, which was part of the reason why he believed Wolfsbane potion didn't work for him. Morris discovered that Matt's body processed Wolfsbane between eight and nine hours rather than the standard twelve, but even when he was given Wolfsbane potion every eight hours instead of twelve, it still didn't help him. But it made it even more confusing that this time the Wolfsbane wouldn't filter at all.
Scouring my notes for anything that might help is a very tedious task and after working at it for two hours I still came up with nothing. I was about to start my third time reading them when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I said, thinking it was probably one of the junior brewers with a question.
“I knew I'd find you here.”
I looked up and saw Victoire, looking if possible, even more pregnant than she had the previous day. “It's where I'll be for the foreseeable future until I figure this potion out.”
“Well can you pry yourself away from your notes long enough to hear my good news?” Victoire asked.
I glanced up again and really looked at Victoire. She was glowing, positively glowing, and had a huge smile on her face. She looked even more excited than she did when she was told her baby didn't have lycanthropy. “Of course.”
“Just had another Healer appointment,” she told me.
“You did?” I asked. I couldn't recall her telling me about it. “I don't remember you saying anything about it.”
“I mentioned it a while ago, but I'm sure you forgot after what happened,” she said. “Anyway, they ran another test, this one to tell us the sex-”
“Did you find out?” I interrupted.
“Yup,” Victoire said. “But that's not the best part. The best part is that I'm having twins!”
“Oh my God!” I shrieked and got up to hug her. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks. Teddy's thrilled, especially since they're both boys.”
“Poor Sophie!” I laughed.
“I know. I'm hoping she'll eventually have some cousins who are girls, but I think Weasleys tend to be prone to having boys.”
“Well you can always try for another girl after those boys are born,” I pointed out.
“I was just told that I'm going to have to give birth to not one but two boys in June. The last thing I want to do is thinking about having a fourth,” Victoire said.
“Fair point,” I agreed. “I haven't even had one and I can't even imagine it. I love Sophie of course, but she's like the perfect kid. Surely they're not all like her.”
“Trust me, they're not. I'm sure these boys will be like my Uncles Fred and George, only worse. I've got it coming to me after only having Sophie for five years.”
“Sophie will keep them in line,” I said.
“Even Sophie wouldn't be able to control them if they're like Fred and George,” Victoire said. “Merlin, Amy, even if they're like Sophie I'm still going to have three times as many kids. It's all Teddy and I can do to make sure someone's always around to watch Sophie. We can't rely on my parents and grandparents to watch three kids.”
“But Sophie will be in school soon,” I pointed out. “Are you starting her at that preschool soon?”
“Not all the time. Teddy and I both work a lot of weekends and Sophie won't have school on weekends,” Victoire said. “And yes, she's starting next week. She's so excited!”
“Good.” I smiled. Sophie needed to be around kids her own age.
“I just don't think I can do the working full time thing with two newborn babies and a five-year-old.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean...” she paused and sat down in one of my extra chairs, “that I'm thinking of not coming back to St. Mungo's after my maternity leave is up.”
I said nothing for a few minutes. While after hearing what Victoire was saying about taking care of three kids and working full time I sort of expected her to say that, it was still a shock. Victoire wasn't nearly as much of a workaholic as I was, but she had always been determined to work hard at what she does and I couldn't see her not working. Ever since I met her she knew exactly what she wanted career wise and nothing had ever swayed her.
“Have you talked to Teddy about it yet?” I asked.
“Yes,” Victoire answered. “He agrees with me. I mean, he makes a decent salary as an Auror so we don't necessarily need my income. It's weird. When I was in Hogwarts I always imagined having a job and kids but I never thought about how the two would compete. My mum stayed home with me and Gabriella and Ben when we were little and it was so much fun. We weren't ever shuttled off to anyone else's house for a weekend and we never waited until ten or eleven at night for our parents to come home to say good night while a baby-sitter sat in our living room.”
“Sophie doesn't mind that,” I said quietly. “Has she ever complained once about having to spend the day with your parents or grandparents?”
“No,” Victoire said. “But that doesn't mean she doesn't miss us. It wouldn't be forever. Just until the boys were at Hogwarts.” She looked down and placed her hands on her stomach.
“It's up to you,” I said. “My mum was home with Matt and I when we were little, too, so I can see why you would want to. I'll miss you here, if you don't come back.”
“And I'll miss you too. I'll miss everything about this place. It's why I'm so torn. I'm not deciding yet since I won't even leave on maternity leave until May or so.”
“Farina won't be pleased.” I laughed.
“No, definitely not,” Victoire agreed. “So what were you working on when I so rudely interrupted you?”
“You're always welcome to interrupt me,” I said. “Anyone else will get yelled at, but you can.”
“I feel so honored.” Victoire grinned. “So what are you up to? I don't see any steaming cauldrons filled with disgusting tasting liquids that will save the world.”
“Very funny,” I replied. “And I'm not brewing anything today. I'm trying to look at years of notes in order to figure out why Matt had that awful of a reaction to the potion. I get interrupted less down here than in my study, due to my reputation of hexing people who barge in on my brewing.”
“Ah, yes, that intern who you hexed last week never did return.”
“Again, very funny. I did not hex an intern.”
“So I take it you're staying late tonight? I was going to invite you over to dinner tonight. It's just Gabriella, Sophie, and I since Teddy's working,” Victoire explained.
“Nope, not staying late, since Morris is releasing Matt today, but he's coming over to my place for the night. I've got to stay with him.”
“Another time, then. Going to bring all of this home with you?”
“Of course,” I said. “Has Gabriella made any mention of taking off again?”
“No,” Victoire replied. “But she disappears everyday so she must be actually doing something here.”
“If she wasn't, you could hire her as your nanny.”
Victoire and I looked at each other and then burst out laughing at the thought of Gabriella being a nanny. That girl would be a nanny the day John Brickston managed to have a girlfriend for more than a month.
“It's so weird,” I began, “because when we were kids Gabriella was so responsible. She was a prefect and everything.”
“Hey, I suppose some kids rebel in their teenage years and others wait until they're out of Hogwarts.” Victoire shrugged.
“And others don't ever rebel,” I pointed out, thinking of Victoire herself.
“I'm hoping Sophie will take after me.”
My Galleon alert vibrated and I pulled it out of the pocket of my robes. Morris was paging me so that meant he was probably ready to discharge Matt. “I've got to go,” I said. “I think Matt's going to be leaving.”
“All right,” Victoire said as she stood up. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Yep, sounds good.” I grabbed all of my paperwork and notes and followed Victoire out of the room, being sure to lock it behind me.
Morris was waiting in the Dai Lewellyn ward when I got there a few minutes later, and so was Mum. She was wearing nurse robes and had a stack of clipboards in her arms, so presumably she had snuck away from clinicals for a few minutes to see Matt before he went home. Judging by the irritated look on Matt's face and the bemused one on Morris's, Mum was doing more than just saying hi to her son.
“I just don't think it's a good idea for you to go back to work tomorrow,” Mum said as I shut the door to the ward. “You need another day to rest.”
“Mum.” Matt sighed. “I've been resting for the past three days.”
“You've been here! In the hospital! Twenty-four hours ago you were practically unconscious on that bed, so you can't tell me you don't need another day of rest.”
“I'm practically unconscious once a month but I still only take a couple of days off,” Matt pointed out. “If I rested as much as you wanted me to I'd never get anything done.”
Morris and I shared a look, knowing that this could go on for ages. Despite the fact that both of us had degrees in healing, neither of us had any say in whether Matt went to work tomorrow where Mum is concerned. We could both assure her that Matt was as healthy as she was but she would still insist he stay in bed and eat soup all day. Degrees were nothing compared to motherly love.
When Matt was little, Mum constantly told him to rest and she hardly let him do anything that other little kids did. As he got older he got fed up with it and started arguing with her, but even now that he's in his twenties she still has that pull over him. Hell, she still has that pull over me. If she demanded that I stay in bed and rest I'd probably listen to her, even if Farina was barking in my other ear to get to work.
“Amy said I could go in in the afternoon if I rested in the morning,” Matt said. “Isn't that a good compromise?”
Instead of agreeing with him, Mum turned around and glared at me, as if that wasn't a compromise at all. “Amy's not your mother,” Mum said.
“But she's a Healer!” Matt shouted.
“Not your Healer,” Mum countered.
“Healer Sterling agrees with her,” Matt pointed out.
Morris sighed and shook his head, looking as if he wished he hadn't gotten involved with this, even though he really hadn't. Matt dragged him into it.
“We're busy at work, Mum. We're looking at that proposal Amy did for the foundation and Dad thinks we might be able to get funding for it if you work with the Ministry and it gets declared an official Werewolf Support Services program. I really need to be there.”
I looked at Matt, raising my eyebrows and trying to silently ask him why he hadn't told me about that. Last I knew we were putting that off until after the holidays. Plus, the Ministry had never gotten involved with anything the foundation did.
Mum sighed, clearly defeated. She glanced at her watch and I realized that her defeat probably had less to do with Matt's reasoning than the fact that she needed to get back to work. “Fine. Rest in the morning and work in the afternoon. Dad will tell me if you show up early, so don't.”
Mum set down her clipboards and gave Matt a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to me. “Don't let him go if he seems to get ill again.” She picked up her clipboards and gave me a one-armed hug before leaving the ward.
“Merlin,” Matt groaned as he sat back down on the bed. “You'd think I was twelve again.”
“She's your mother,” Morris said as he flicked his wand above Matt's head. “She'll worry about you forever, no matter how old you are. Your vitals are normal, so you're good to go.”
“Thanks,” Matt said as he got up. “I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon.”
“Hopefully not too soon,” Morris replied and then turned to me. “Amy, I'll see you tomorrow.”
I nodded and Matt and I followed Morris out of the now empty ward. I stopped at my study to pick up a few more things and then we headed off for the Floo room. With any luck, I'd have a few hours to try and figure out my notes later that evening.
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Monday 28 June 2010 05 23 43 pm Post subject: Re: Beyond the Shadow in topic:Beyond the Shadow
Chapter 11: Dillan Blayney
It was a very odd feeling to sit in my study and have absolutely nothing to do and it was a feeling that I never had very often. I felt like there was something I should be doing, but after replying to George's letter, there really wasn't anything left, since Farina had given me the day off I had no clinic hours, the only patient in the Dai Lewellyn Ward was Matt, and I hadn't started over on the Wolfsbane yet. The only thing I could have possibly done was look over the data I had just received, but my headache was slowly breaking through the potion I had taken and I knew there would be no way to concentrate on it.
Instead, I just waited. I sat in my chair and did absolutely nothing and it was actually quite refreshing. I couldn't remember the last time I had absolutely nothing to do. Morris was obviously running late, since 4:30 came and went without him showing up. When I finally heard footsteps I got up and met him in Natalie's study.
“Morris,” I said as he set a chart down on Natalie's desk and then picked up another. “How is Matt doing?”
Morris paused and set the chart back down again. “Cancel my five o'clock,” he said to Natalie, who immediately got up and left, presumably to find Morris's five o'clock.
My heart started beating fast as Morris gestured for me to follow him into his study. If Matt had been doing all right, Morris wouldn't have canceled an appointment. What had happened that was so awful he needed an entire appointment time to tell me about?
Morris's study looks exactly like mine except it was filled with far more books and several pictures of his wife, children, and grandchildren adorned the walls and sat upon his desk. I sat in in the leather armchair in front of his desk while he took the seat behind it. He flipped through a stack of parchment and set a sheet in front of me. I glanced at it.
“Matt's results from yesterday?” I asked, curious as to why he was showing them to me again.
“No,” Morris said quietly. “Those are new. Results from a blood test taken only three hours ago.” He pointed to the date in the upper right hand corner. January second, 2:07pm.
Morris set another piece of parchment alongside it. Matt's results from the day before. The numbers were exactly the same. The exact same amount of Wolfsbane was running through Matt's system that afternoon as had been the previous day. Why wasn't it getting processed? Why was it staying in his system? Why was a medicine that was supposed to be filtered through a person's system in less than twelve hours staying there for nearly forty-eight?
“Again, I ran the same test three times. I had three different technicians run it and used three separate test potions. Then I had the test potions sent for testing and ran three tests each on each of them. The potions are fine. The results are as they are,” Morris said quietly.
I swallowed hard. In all my years of studying lycanthropy, all my years of treating people with it, and all my years of brewing various types of Wolfsbane I had never seen a case where Wolfsbane did not filter out of a person's system in twelve hours, give or take a few. And if had never happened before, what were we supposed to do?
“Have you ever known this to happen before?” I asked, hoping that since Morris had been working as a Healer far longer than she had, he would know something.
“No,” he replied. “But I think if we treat the Wolfsbane as any other toxin, because it is a toxin to someone with lycanthropy, we should be able to flush it out.
That made sense. It was a good thing Morris was able to remain calm enough to think clearly. I suppose that was why I'm not Matt's Healer. Morris was able to separate the rational thinking from his emotions when it came to Matt, whereas I certainly wasn't.
“What about the after effects?” I asked.
“That is what I am more worried about,” he replied. “We won't know what they are until the Wolfsbane is gone and he's awake and conscious. At the very least he's going to be incredibly exhausted. Other than that, I really don't know. The best thing we can do is flush out the Wolfsbane as quickly as possible.”
“Well let's start right now, then.” I stood up, wondering why we were wasting time talking.
“I already have. I've had the potion running intravenously for the past hour.”
Of course he had, Morris was always on top of things. “Have my parents been by?”
“This morning, and on their lunch breaks,” Morris answered. “I expect they'll be back once they're done with work.”
“I'm going to go sit with him.”
“I'll go with you,” Morris said. “I've got to check the IV.”
Morris and I walked in silence to the ward. Matt was curled up on his side on the bed, covered in three of those flannel hospital blankets that weren't really very warm, a tall pole with a bag of potion danging from it next to the bed. A tube ran from the bag into the back of Matt's hand, which was resting upon the blankets. It was a Muggle IV contraption since magic couldn't replicate the steady drip that an IV had. In order for his system to be properly flushed, he had to have constant potion dripping into his body.
As we drew nearer I saw that his face was still flushed with fever, yet he was sleeping soundly. Morris drew his wand and waved it over Matt. “His fever's gone down.”
“That's a good sign,” I said as I sat down in a chair next to the bed.
“Definitely,” Morris agreed as he fiddled with the bag of potion. “I'm going to leave this in for twenty-four hours and then we'll test again.”
I nodded. Morris finished doing whatever he was doing with the potion and left. Then it was quiet. Matt was sleeping very soundly and not snoring at all and the lack of other patients of course attributed to the silence. I was alone with my thoughts and at the moment which was kind of a scary thing.
Deep down, I knew Dad was right that I couldn't liken this potion disaster to what had happened when Matt was eight, but on the surface it was hard not to. Plus, regardless of whether the two were similar or not something I had created had still harmed my brother and there was no getting around that. People could assure me time and time again that Matt had consented to take the Wolfsbane but that didn't matter. He didn't have a degree in healing or brewing so he counted on me to tell him what was safe and what wasn't when it came to those fields. I hadn't done that.
The door to the ward opened and Mum and Dad walked in, both looking in dire need of a nap. They took seats on the other side of Matt's bed.
“The Wolfsbane is still in his system,” I told them, and proceeded to explain everything Morris had already told me.
“Nothing to do but wait, then,” Dad said quietly.
“Sometimes I wonder if it'll even be worth it, in the end,” I said.
“What?” Mum asked.
“This,” I gestured to Matt. “Giving him potions that nearly kill him just for the small chance that I might come up with one that will work. What if in the end I don't come up with one? Then he will have gone through all of this for nothing.”
“You will come up with one,” Dad assured me. “Stop thinking you won't. And it's not for nothing because even though this one didn't work, it will provide answers once you sit down and compare it with the others.”
“But is it worth it to use my own brother as a guinea pig?”
“That's a question that has no answer,” Dad said. “If he comes out of this not wanting to test anymore potions then fine. But if he still wants to try them, that's his decision.”
I nodded, mostly to appease my father and not because I necessarily agreed, because I was not sure that I did. My father, as intelligent as he was, did not have the training in healing and medicine that I had. Give him a complicated question about a magical creature and he'd give you the answer with hardly a thought and no doubt it would be correct, but there were aspects to the morals of healing that he did not understand. Even I did not completely understand them because they were beyond the scope of the few morals classes I took in training.
Patients don't get to decide what treatment they get even if a healer explains the risks and they claim they understand the risks. A healer still has the final say. If Jamie's parents had wanted to start him on my experimental Wolfsbane as soon as he'd stopped taking normal Wolfsbane, even claiming to understand the risks, I would have said no. Similarly, it was not solely Matt's decision whether or not to continue taking experimental potions; it was up to Morris and I as well.
However, so long as I kept those potions available for any of age lycanthropic witches and wizards to try, I had to let Matt use them if he wished. The only way I could stop him is if I found a medical reason for him not to, and without understanding why this particular potion had affected him so badly, I would not have a medical reason for him not to try the next one.
Farina greeted me the next morning without any recognition that she'd given me the previous day off. It was like it never happened. Instead she told me I was due in the clinic as soon as my lunch hour was over, and not a minute later. My morning was filled with three routine appointments and going over that month's data. Since we have such a small amount of data I cannot draw any conclusions yet, but I still like to look it over to make sure it's useable. Luckily all of this month's looked fine.
It wasn't until nearly eleven-thirty that I remembered that I had told Victoire I would meet the bloke from the pub for lunch. I cringed when I realized all I had on underneath my healer robes was a pair of old jeans and a sweater Victoire's grandmother had knitted for me, one adorned with a Gryffindor lion. I didn't even have time to floo home to change because it was either floo home or visit Matt, which I hadn't had time to do yet that morning.
Matt was awake when I entered the ward and he looked slightly bored which I took to be a good sign. He looked over immediately when I entered.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked as I bent over to give him a hug.
“Better than yesterday,” he replied.
“Good, that means the wolfsbane is finally being flushed out,” I told him. “We'll know for sure when you're tested this afternoon.”
Victoire was waiting for me in my study when I rushed in to strip off my lime green robes after visiting Matt. She wasn't impressed with what I was wearing underneath but she at least had some make-up on hand and straightened my hair with her wand before I promised her to tell her all about the lunch and rushed downstairs to meet the guy.
I was five minutes late by the time I got there and he was standing amongst the distressed witches and wizards in the waiting room, looking sorely out of place. For one, he did not look distressed. Two, he kept glancing around like he was looking for someone. Three, he was dressed solely in Muggle attire, wearing jeans and a jacket over a button-up shirt. His eyes rested upon me and he smiled. I met him near the door but didn't say anything until we left the chaotic waiting room for the slightly less chaotic streets of Muggle London.
“Sorry I'm late,” I said.
“You're closer to being on time than any Healer I've ever met before,” he joked. “And you look great.”
I raised my eyebrows and gestured to my Gryffindor jumper. “I look like I'm ready for a day of lounging around at Hogwarts.”
“Well the jumper does kind of answer one of the questions I was going to ask you over lunch,” he confided. “I'm Dillan Blayney, by the way. I don't think I properly introduced myself yesterday.” He stuck out his hand.
“No, you didn't,” I replied as I shook his hand. “I believe I did.”
“You did. I thought we could go get pizza. I know a great little place around the corner.”
“What if I hadn't worn Muggle clothing?” I asked.
“I took a chance. I figured you weren't the sort of person to stroll around London in green Healer robes.”
He was right about that. Of course I didn't know anyone who wore their Healer robes outside of St. Mungo's due to their hideous nature. He seemed to be quite the jokester and I did have to admit that he was attractive. Very attractive. As much as he'd reminded me of Al Potter the previous day, now he seemed older and better looking which was a good sign since I thought of Al as a little brother.
We walked in silence until we reached a very tiny shop on the corner that I would have missed had I not been with Dillan. He held the door open for me and I walked into what was a very adorable little pizza shop. There was a large picture of some city in Rome along one of the walls and a picture of the Italian Football team from 2006, when they won the World Cup. On various ledges were bottles of oils filled with herbs and a variety of meats and salads chilled in a display near the counter. Dillan chose a small booth in the back and plucked two menus out from behind the napkin holder, handing one to me.
“Get whatever you want, so long as it's pizza,” Dillan said. “I do insist that you choose pizza because this is the best pizza, outside of Italy.”
“Obviously you've never been to Mama Rizzo's in Sydney,” I told him as I scanned the menu.
“Sydney?” he asked. “As in Australia? No, I can't say I've ever traveled that far for pizza. What was a Londoner like yourself doing in Sydney?”
“I grew up in Australia, just outside Brisbane. My grandparents used to live near Sydney,” I said, making sure to watch his face for the look of surprise that always showed up on people's faces when I tell them I used to live in Australia.
However, Dillan didn't seem surprised at all. He looked like he would've if I said I grew up in Scotland. “Yet you're wearing a Gryffindor jumper. Here I thought you were a Hogwarts alumnus.”
“You were right about that,” I said as the waitress set down two waters. Thank Merlin, I thought, perhaps the waitress would distract him from asking why I moved to England.
“Ready to order?” she asked.
Dillan gestured to me. “Um, I guess we'll take a small pizza with peppers, olives, and extra cheese.”
“Coming right up,” she said.
“So let me get this straight,” Dillan said as he stirred his water with his straw. “You grew up in Australia yet you went to Hogwarts. I think I'm missing something.”
“I moved here when I was fourteen,” I explained, although that really wasn't much of an explanation.
“Ah,” he replied, “and may I ask why?”
“You can ask,” I said, “but you won't necessarily get an answer.”
“Then I won't ask,” he replied. “Although I shall remain curious. I was born and raised in the same house as I am living in right now.”
Oh, Merlin, I thought. I've attracted a thirty-year-old guy who lives with his mother.
“Literally,” he continued. “I didn't wait until my mum got to St. Mungo's and I was actually born in the house. I love the place. So many great memories there that when my parents died I moved back instead of selling the place.”
So glad I didn't mention the 'living with his mother' thing. That would have been even more awkward than thinking it. As much as I would like to know why his parents died so young, I felt like if I were to ask that I would have to tell him why I moved which certainly wasn't going to happen.
“About yesterday...” I began.
“I'm sorry,” he said as he looked down into his glass. “I'm sure I was overstepping my boundaries a bit with that bet, but I was having an awful day and I don't normally drink that much-”
“It's ok,” I assured him. “I was actually just wondering what job you were sacked from. Must have been an amazing job if you were that upset about losing it.”
I saw an ever so slight tinge of pink creep up on his cheeks as he averted his gaze once again. “The funny thing is, it was kind of an awful job to begin with and not one I really saw myself in for the rest of my life. So really, it was a blessing in disguise. Not really sure why it sent me on a drinking binge. Anyway, I was a counterfeit coin checker at Gringotts.”
I looked at him for a few seconds before responding. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” He laughed. “Not a job that appears in a pamphlet in the common rooms in fifth year.”
“No, definitely not,” I agreed.
“But it paid the bills up until yesterday,” he said. “Unfortunately goblins do not take suggestions to their standard procedures nicely. I made a few suggestions to improve efficiency and they showed me the door, threw a sackful of Galleons out after me as my last paycheck and that was that.”
“Wow,” I replied. Even Farina took suggestions on how to improve efficiency. I guess I should be lucky I don't work for goblins.
“I suppose I'm lucky they're letting me keep my account there,” Dillan pointed out.
The pizza arrived a few minutes later, after we had thoroughly exhausted the topic of Dillan's job at Gringotts and right before I was going to ask what sort of job he wanted to get next. I didn't get to ask since Dillan seemed preoccupied with watching my reaction to the pizza. He served me a slice and then watched in anticipation as I took a bite.
“This is amazing!” I said after I'd finished swallowing. “Better than Mama Rizzo's.”
“And closer,” Dillan pointed out as he served himself a slice. “You'll save millions on airfare alone.”
I laughed before taking my next bite. He was funny, very funny. I hadn't ever really gone out with a funny guy before, mostly because the only funny blokes I knew were Teddy, Landon, and Matt's friends, none of whom I could or would date. Merlin, was I thinking of dating him already? We'd just gone out for pizza and hadn't even known each other forty-eight hours.
We didn't talk much while we were polishing off the pizza and by the time we'd finished I only had ten minutes to get back to St. Mungo's and up to the clinic. We practically ran up the sidewalk and were out of breath by the time we reached the hospital.
“I had a lot of fun,” he said as he smiled at me. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“I had fun, too,” I said. “Maybe next time we can do dinner and I won't have to rush out at the end.”
“That would be good,” he replied. “What are you doing Friday night?”
“Working until seven, but I'm free after that.”
“Want to have a late dinner at eight-thirty?” he asked.
“Sure. I'd like that.” I smiled. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scrawling my address on it. I handed it to him.
“I'll see you then,” he said and then turned, disappearing into the crowd.
I walked back into St. Mungo's and hurried up to my study to don my tacky green robes before getting to the clinic, all the while wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Monday 28 June 2010 05 22 14 pm Post subject: Re: Beyond the Shadow in topic:Beyond the Shadow
Aw, thanks! So glad you're enjoying it. I'm sorry that I haven't posted in so long and I really have no excuse. I just...forgot to post here... I've updated at HPFF, so I'm going to post two new chapters here.
Chapter 10: Drown Your Sorrows
I swirled the firewhiskey around in my glass, watching the ice cubes spin and then settle amongst the alcohol. I downed the glass and then signaled for another one. The barkeep, who had nothing else to do anyway, poured me another drink.
After wandering the streets of London for what must have been hours, I wound up at a lesser-known pub in Diagon Alley. It was called the Hairy Goat, which seemed like an odd name, especially since the bar was not owned by Aberforth Dumbledore. It wasn't very popular due to its general uncleanliness, but I never ran into anyone I knew there, so it was well suited for my current activities.
So far the activities included drinking enough firewhiskey to stop thinking about Matt and the potion, which I had not yet succeeded in doing. I've never been one for drinking and I really hate getting drunk because I always feel truly awful the next day, but somehow today it seemed like I might as well try.
The bar was pretty deserted. The only other customer was a bloke a few seats down from me at the bar, who was drinking enough firewhiskey to compete with me. His dark hair was messy, reminding me a lot of Al Potter, and looked to be about my age. He drank his current shot, slammed the glass down on the bar, and turned to me.
“Shitty new year?” he asked.
Why was he talking to me now? We had been sitting in silence for the past hour. “You could say that.”
“Me, too,” he sighed. “I bet you a drink that mine was worse.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Oh, afraid you'd lose?” he smirked.
What the hell was he playing at? Why couldn't we each just drink in silence? Maybe he was on his way to being drunk. That was probably it. “Fine,” I replied. “So, why was your new year's awful?”
“I got fired,” he said, sipping his new drink.
I snorted. Fired? Fired? If only that was my problem. It would be an easy fix. Although, I supposed it was still a possibility.
“What?” he asked. “How is my lack of employment funny?”
“Not that,” I said. “The fact that you think getting fired makes your new year's awful.”
“Oh, so you had something worse happen to you?” he said. “I bet you were dumped, right? Although I can't see anyone dumping you. You're too pretty.”
Drunk, I thought, this bloke was definitely drunk. “Getting fired would be worse than getting dumped,” I told him. “And no, I was not dumped.”
“Then tell your boyfriend he's a lucky bloke.”
“Don't have a boyfriend,” I informed him. Why was I telling him that? Why was I still talking to him, anyway? He was obviously drunk.
“Interesting,” he mused. “Well, why was your new year's horrible, then?”
Shit, I thought. Why didn't I think this through? I couldn't exactly tell him that a new version of the Wolfsbane potion I created had caused my werewolf brother to have the worst transformation he'd had in years. No, but I could tweak it. I was the queen of coming up with excuses for Matt's lycanthropy.
“I'm a Healer and a Brewer at St. Mungo's,” I began.
“I created a potion and it didn't do what it was supposed to,” I continued.
“Shame,” he replied. “Guess you'll have to start over. But you still have your job. Sorry, not worse than mine.”
“I'm not finished yet,” I snapped. “The potion had a really bad effect on those who took it. Turns out, it makes a person really sick, the opposite of what it's supposed to do.”
“Oh. That's slightly worse.”
“Again, not finished. My brother is the one who took the potion and now he's unconscious in St. Mungo's.”
The bloke looked taken aback. He quickly took another sip of his drink, clearly in an effort to think of something to say. I couldn't help but feel smug at this. I had obviously won this bet.
“I believe you owe me a drink,” I told him.
“Yeah, you're right,” he muttered and signaled to the barkeep to pour me another firewhiskey.
We drank in silence for a few minutes. A couple people wearing Ministry robes entered the bar and sat down at a table in the back. The barkeep left to go take their orders.
I felt something hot in my pocket and pulled out my Galleon Alert. Everyone who worked at St. Mungo's had one so we could be reached at all times in an instant. It looked just like a Galleon, but instead it bore the name of whichever employee needed to talk to you, changing each time. This time, Morris had summoned me. Sighing, I turned to the bloke who had for some inexplicable reason become my drinking partner.
“I've got to get back to St. Mungo's,” I told him as I stood up.
“All right,” he replied. “Hope your new year gets better.”
“Yours too,” I said and began to leave the bar.
“Wait, what's your name?” he shouted after me.
“Amy Eckerton,” I called over my shoulder as I opened the door and left the bar.
“The Wolfsbane is still in his system.”
“What do you mean it's still in his system?” I stared at Morris from across his desk. After leaving the pub, I went directly to Morris's study. I found him studying Matt's test results.
Wolfsbane Potion goes through the system in about twelve hours, which was why werewolves had to take it twice a day starting two or three days before the full moon, depending on their age and size. It was always long out of a person's system two days after the full moon.
Morris handed me the results and I scanned them. He was completely right, of course. The levels of Wolfsbane were still high in Matt's blood, nearly as high as they would be if he was still taking the potion. It didn't make any sense.
“None of the other ingredients are coming up on that tox screen,” Morris elaborated. “According to the results, the only ingredient in that potion still in his system is the actual Wolfsbane. I ran the test three times and they all said the same thing.”
I nodded as I leafed through the three different tests. Same exact results. “This doesn't make sense.”
“You're right,” Morris agreed. “It doesn't. Do you still have the Wolfsbane you used in the potion? We need to test it.”
“You think it was contaminated?” I asked. I supposed it was possible, but the potion had passed the preliminary tests. Any contamination would have come up in the results from that and the potion wouldn't have passed.
“I think it's highly unlikely, but we've got to cover all the bases,” Morris explained. “Now, what did you do differently in this particular potion as compared to all the others?”
“I brewed it in a steel cauldron and tweaked the amounts of a few of the ingredients, including Wolfsbane,” I explained.
“You know, Amy,” Morris said quietly. “As awful as this is, if that Wolfsbane was not contaminated, this may hold some answers as to why none of these potions have worked.”
“I know, I know,” I muttered. “I just wish we could get answers without this happening.”
“So do I, Amy,” Morris sighed. “So do I. He woke up about a half hour ago, if you want to go see him.”
I nodded and left the study. Matt was the only patient in the ward, which I was really grateful for. Other patients really didn't need to see one of their healers break down and cry. As soon as I saw Matt, with my parents sitting on either side of his bed, my eyes started to tear up again. It was the Lubar incident all over again.
“Amy,” Mum said as I reached the bed. “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere,” I replied, hoping she wouldn't press it.
“Amy,” Matt whispered. “I don't think I'll be taking that potion again.”
I half-smiled at him. His head was wrapped in a bandage and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. “Matt... I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen, but that's no excuse.”
“Amy, shut it,” Matt replied. “I know the risk when I take the potions. It's not your fault. But what the hell was in that?”
“Same stuff,” I sighed. “Same stuff, different proportions. The wrong ones, obviously.”
“Healer Sterling said I've still got Wolfsbane in my system,” he said. “Have you got any idea why?”
“No,” I sighed. “We're also not sure when it's going to leave your system and you're not going to feel better until it does. We'll do everything we can to figure out how to get it out as soon as possible.”
“It's ok, Amy,” he said. “I'm going to be fine.”
There was just something about Matt telling me he was going to be fine while laying in a hospital bed with a fever and a bandaged head that made me want to bawl my eyes out.
“I'm- I'm going to go home and get some sleep,” I said. “You should get some rest, too, Matt.”
“I will,” he assured me.
I leaned over the bed, gave him a hug, and left while trying to hide the fact that I was crying. I needed coffee. All the firewhiskey was starting to give me a headache.
The tea room was crowded since it was nearing supper time. I grabbed the largest cup of coffee they offered and settled down at the table farthest in the back. It was a good thing Farina gave me the next day off because I was going to have a killer hangover. What had I been thinking?
Someone sat down across from me and I looked up, ready to tell them to find their own table, only to see that it was Dad. He had his own cup of coffee and the lines in his face were more pronounced than ever before.
“You've got to stop beating yourself up,” Dad said quietly.
“Didn't you notice?” I asked. “He looks exactly like he did after that full moon when he was eight, when he had to transform with the other werewolves.”
“I did.” Dad took a sip of his coffee and looked at me.
“Then how can you tell me not to beat myself up?” I exclaimed. “I did that to him! I did the same thing Lubar did!”
“Now that is ridiculous,” Dad told me. “The two are nowhere near alike. Circumstances, Amy, circumstances. Think back to that full moon. Matt's physical wounds were healed within weeks. It was the emotional ones that made it so awful. The emotional wounds were what made the recovery so long. Now look at this most recent full moon. Matt took a potion that you created out of a determination to make his life better and it didn't work. Sure, there are physical wounds, but they'll heal. The difference is that there are no emotional wounds.”
I slowly sipped my coffee and thought about it. Dad was right. He was always right. Why hadn't I thought about that? I never thought about emotions as much as I should. Rose was the psychiatrist, not me.
“I guess you're right,” I sighed.
“I know you feel bad,” Dad continued. “I'd find it weird if you didn't. You feel bad because you love him and that's what matters. He'll get better and you'll start working on a new potion. Life will go on.”
“Yeah, I know,” I muttered.
Dad drained his coffee and stood up. “Go home and get some rest. Mum and I are doing the same. We'll be back tomorrow.” I nodded and watched as he left the tea room.
“Amy! Amy, get up!”
I rolled over in an attempt to get away from whoever was poking me. What were they doing? Didn't they realize it was the middle of the night? Wait, how did they even get into my flat?
I snapped my eyes open and realized that it was not the middle of the night, but most likely the middle of the day. Sunlight hit my eyes and the headache I had began to feel more like someone was throwing a brick at my head. I glanced over in the direction of the voice telling me to get up and saw that it was Victoire, dressed in her Healer robes, looking disapprovingly at me.
“So many questions,” she threw her hands up in the air. “Where do I begin?”
Ignoring her, I got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. I needed a headache potion and I needed it fast. Locating the bottle, I downed a dose and followed it with a glass of water. It started to take effect and I looked at Victoire.
“Why aren't you at work?” she demanded.
“Farina gave me the day off,” I muttered.
“Well, that just opens more questions than it answers,” Victoire replied.
“We shared a lift yesterday and she gave me the day off because of what happened to Matt,” I explained.
“And you're using this day off to sleep off a hangover?” Victoire shouted. “You realize it's three o'clock, don't you?”
“Of course you don't,” Victoire groaned. “What happened yesterday?”
“I drank way too much firewhiskey,” I answered.
“Obviously. But why? Amy, you've never been the type to drink away your problems because you're smart enough to know it doesn't work.”
“I don't know.” I collapsed into the nearest kitchen chair. That was the truth. Why had I done it. “I guess I just couldn't take it anymore.”
“Can't take what?” Victoire asked as she put an arm around me.
“Everything,” I sighed. “I'm thirty. I've done nothing with my life. The potion is obviously going nowhere. I put my own brother in St. Mungo's. I'm nowhere close to being married and I have no kids. Cinda's right; I should be getting married soon.”
“Since when do you listen to your grandmother?” Victoire looked shocked. “Isn't this the same lady who dressed you up in frilly pink dresses as a child and bought you ePods or whatever they're called for Christmas?”
“iPods,” I sighed. “And yes, that's Cinda.”
“She obviously has no idea what you really like, then,” Victoire told me. “So why should she know what's best for you as far as marriage goes? Amy, no one should get married until they're in love and ready.”
“I know,” I said. “I guess I just thought everything would be different when we were thirty.”
“Don't I know it,” Victoire agreed.
“What do you mean? You're married with a kid and another on the way, plus you've got a rewarding job.”
“And so does Teddy. We hardly ever see each other, Amy. When I'm home he's away on missions and when he's home I'm on call. In all our efforts to make sure Sophie doesn't have to stay with my parents for longer than a work day, Teddy and I rarely see each other for more than a couple hours at a time.”
“But you're happy, right?” I asked.
“Of course I am. Are you? Besides this potion set-back, that is.”
“Honestly, I think I am,” I said. “Well, as long as Cinda isn't implying that I need to get married.”
“Then that's all that matters,” Victoire replied. “And you will find the right guy someday. Speaking of which, do you remember a certain bloke from the pub yesterday?”
I could feel my cheeks redden and judging by Victoire's smirk, it was very obvious that I was blushing. How did she know about him?
“I'll take that as a yes,” Victoire grinned. “You might be interested to know that he spent about an hour wandering around St. Mungo's trying to find you this morning.”
“He likes you. And he's rather attractive. I told him you'd meet him outside the hospital tomorrow at noon.”
“You did what?” I exclaimed.
“Hey, you said you'd like to get married,” she teased.
“So what exactly did the two of you do in this pub?”
“He bet me a drink he'd had a shittier new year than me. I won. He bought me a drink. I got called back to St. Mungo's, and that was that.”
“Well, you're meeting him tomorrow and that's that.”
“Fine,” I sighed. I supposed it didn't really matter anyway since I had already made a fool of myself in front of him. What's the worst that could happen? “I'll meet him.”
“Good,” Victoire replied. “I've got to get back to work before Farina notices that I'm gone. Can I trust you to not go back to bed?”
I nodded. The potion was kicking in and I was feeling far more normal than I had ten minutes ago. I had to get to St. Mungo's anyway to see Matt and talk to Morris. Why had I drank so much Firewhiskey? What a stupid idea that had been. Victoire was right, drinking never solved anything and I knew that. All that had happened was that I wasted practically a whole day sleeping off a hangover and possibly attracted a very odd bloke.
“Yes,” I sighed. “I'm going to go visit Matt.”
“Good,” Victoire said as she gave me one more hug. “And what are you not going to do?”
“Drink Firewhiskey. Ever again.”
Victoire nodded and then stepped over to the fire. She tossed in a handful of Floo powder and was gone in three seconds. Merlin, I sighed. No more Firewhiskey.
Kaden was just leaving the ward when I entered an hour later. He was dressed in brewers' robes, so I assumed he was merely on break or lunch and using the time to visit Matt.
“He slept through my whole break,” Kaden told me as he hurried off towards the lifts. He was probably late.
I was surprised Kaden hadn't just woken Matt up upon seeing that he was asleep. That was what Matt's friends usually did, especially Kaden and John. Perhaps he had actually had some sense not to since Matt was in the hospital. I peered into the ward and saw that Matt was indeed asleep, and not looking close to waking up at anytime soon. Instead of going in, I turned towards Morris's study.
Natalie was putting away files when I walked in. She turned around and offered me a sympathetic smile when she heard me enter.
“How is Matt?” she asked.
“Not sure yet. Is Morris in?”
“He's with a patient until four-thirty,” Natalie replied. “You've got a few owls and your research assistants dropped off this month's data.” She handed me a small stack of envelopes and a large binder.
I took them and let myself into my study. The binder of results went straight into the filing cabinet because I was just too exhausted to look at data right then, but I set the letters down on my desk and began to open them. The first two were junk, asking me for interviews for various publications that I didn't like.
The third letter, however, caused my stomach to flip when I read whom it was from. Jamie's parents. Jamie. I could not believe it. I had actually forgotten about Jamie in the disaster that was my potion. Why hadn't I realized that he hadn't been in? Jamie wound up in St. Mungo's after each and every full moon, until this past one, and I hadn't even given it a second thought. For whatever reason he had slipped my mind and that rattled me. I had never forgotten about one of my own patients, no matter how awful one of Matt's full moons had been.
But it was a good thing that he didn't have to go to the hospital, right? I took a deep breath and read the letter.
Jamie had a surprisingly good full
moon! He's not ill and he only broke
one of his arms. Candace was able
to heal it in a minute. He seems
to be healing fine at home, so we
aren't going to bring him in unless
he takes a turn for the worse.
We'll keep you updated.
It was amazing how even when things seemed to be at their worst, some good news managed to worm its way into life. Jamie was doing better than he usually was. I smiled as I set the letter down on my desk. A full moon that did not land Jamie in St. Mungo's was a miracle. At least someone's new year was starting off well and Amy couldn't think of anyone more deserving of a good year than Jamie and his family.
Joined: 31 December 2006
Location: No idea, all I know is that there are a LOT of felt-tipped pens...
Posted: Saturday 26 June 2010 03 42 32 pm Post subject: Re: Some Secrets in topic:Some Secrets
Sometimes I feel like I'm moving at a different speed than the rest of the world, going slow-motion while everyone else speed-walks. Other days it's like I'm the one going faster, but that the ending I'm hurtling towards with so much more speed than anyone else is something terrible that I haven't had the good sense to avoid.
Today is one of those days.
I'm walking to Potions class, and I'm suffocating. The crowd of students is stifling my breath. Smothering me. I begin to breath faster, then force myself to slow down and inhale deeply.
I'm having a panic attack, Madame Pomfrey would have said. She always tells me breathing deeply helps, and it does, a little. But not enough because that's the thing; I can't breathe.
I try to make my way nonchalantly through the seemingly crowded hallway, but I don't need to worry. No one cares about my slight hyperventilation, or the panicked look in my eyes. I'm just the loner girl, good for nothing except teasing and exploitation.
After a few minutes of plodding through the impossibly large throng of students, I see it-- a bathroom. It might be Moaning Myrtle's, but I don't care. Maybe we can have a good cry together.
Either way, it's a place I can be alone, away from this mesh of cluttered activity.
I renew my efforts to get through the hallway, and eventually push my way into the bathroom, ignoring the fifth-year walking past it, and not even stopping to mutter an apology as I step on his foot in my hurry.
Once inside the cooler, emptier area of the bathroom, I start to calm down. That hallway really wasn't very crowded at all, I realize with chagrin. I was imagining the situation to be worse than it was.
How stupid of me, I think to myself, and start gathering up the contents of my bag, which had spilled out over the floor in my frenzy. I'm going to be late for Potions.
The classroom is quiet as I sneak in late, and, other than a reprimand from Professor Slughorn about my behavior and timing, the class goes without a hitch. I know that my fellow students will pounce upon my lateness as an excuse for berating me the moment they get the chance, but what else is new? I should be used to this by now.
And yet, I still find anxiety creeping into my stomach as I enter the common room that night. Perhaps some things never change.
Sitting by the fire with my homework splayed half-finished across my lap, I catch a fluttering by the window in my peripherals, the same as last night. I try to ignore it, mindful of the precarious position of all the various books and papers on my person. But I keep a close watch on it as I struggle through the rest of my assignments, getting up to go to bed only when it fades from sight.
I walk into the Girl's Dormitory, only to stop up short when I see that Mia and some of her friends are still up. They scurry out of the way, with barely a glance in my direction as I walk towards my bed. Odd.
I discover the cause of their actions as I open my four-poster bed a few moments later.
Stenciled across my bedspread in red paint is the word, “loser” in elegant print. Very original. I bundle up the soiled cloth and leave it in a pile on the floor. The house elves will take care of it by morning, and if I'm lucky, maybe Mia will step in the wet paint on her way to the bathroom that night.
Herbology the next day would've been a cause for extreme embarrassment, if I hadn't stopped caring about my life in general years ago.
The boy who I had almost steamrolled over as I rushed to the bathroom in the midst of the previous day's panic attack, was not, I discovered, a fifth-year who I'd hopefully never encounter again, much less remember. Fate hates me too much for that.
No, he's a new student in my year, and had been assigned as my partner. Not that I volunteered or anything. I, being the social pariah I was, had been left partnerless at the beginning of the year when everyone was told to pair up, and had been working either by myself or with the professor all year. It seemed all that was about to change.
His name is Jarret, and with his dark hair and intense brown eyes, I might have been lusting after him along with all the other girls (Mia's mouth seemed to be watering). That is, if he had said a word to me the entire period. Or even made eye contact.
Now, as I sit alone at the house table during lunch, I wonder if I ought to have made an attempt to make conversation. Or to be friendly at all. But, having been forbidden contact with other people my age after being bitten as a child, I never developed any terribly adept people skills. Besides, what was there to talk about?
I don't eat much, and soon I'm sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where I'm again sitting next to Jarret. He starts writing the moment the teacher begins lecturing, successfully guilting me into talking careful notes on the various types of jinxes throughout the duration of the class.
I'm making my bravest attempt at listening to the teacher, but it's a struggle. I'm so used to looking through a fog that the writing on the board is a mystery. I'm copying the letters down, but I have no idea what the lesson is about.
Just as my quill is about to snap from all the pressure I'm putting on it in my concentration, the class miraculously ends.
“Remember, essay due next week!” the professor calls out as everyone begins to pack up their things. “Eight inches of parchment, and no writing in all capitals!” A couple boys in the back groan at this pronouncement. I roll my eyes discreetly.
I always try to be the first one out of each class, so as to avoid too much interaction with my fellows, but today I drop my bag as I stand up, and so have to pick up the scrambled contents from the floor before I can leave.
I try to get everything as quickly as possible, before anyone notices my clumsiness. I can feel my face turn a deep scarlet, and my embarrassment only thickens when Mia notices me scrambling on the floor.
“Oh, dear!” she exclaims in mock pity, “Poor Lia has dropped her bag! I'll catch up with you later,” she says to her friends, who cover their smirks with nods of fake understanding. “I ought to help clean up this mess.”
I cringe as she walks over. I hate her. I hate her wavy brown hair, so shiny compared to my stringy, mousy brown locks. I hate that her name sounds so much like mine.
But most of all, I hate that her courtesy is such a thin pretense; everyone knows that helping me is the very last thing on her mind as she saunters over, but even the teacher doesn't lift a finger.
After gathering up a few forgotten papers from one of the desks, the professor bustles out of the classroom, leaving Mia and I alone.
Or so I think, until I notice third set of shoes out of the corner of my eye. Jarret was still here. Great. Really fantastic.
The good news was that Mia wouldn't dare jinx me with a possible love interest standing nearby, fiddling absently with the shoulder strap on his bag. The bad news was that now I had one more witness to my teasing.
“Here, Lia,” Mia offered, “Let me help you clean this up.” She sounded cheerful, but I could tell that she was clenching her teeth. She'd obviously hoped to hiss a few choice words at me and kick my bag so that its contents would be more messily strewn across the floor, but with Jarret present, she now had to feign manners and get creative.
I could see her nose wrinkling as she knelt down next to me and slowly poked a bottle of ink back into my bag. She crumpled each paper as she picked it up and shoved it in my direction, all the while spouting an endless stream of sickly sweet chatter, about anything from homework to quidditch.
I could see Jarret's ankles out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't dare look up at his face. Why hadn't he left yet? Did he take pleasure at my humiliation? I couldn't understand his motives.
At last the floor was free of my clutter, and I scrambled to my feet before Mia could pretend to help me up. She got to her feet more gracefully than I, and was out the door before I had even taken a step.
This confused me. She hadn't made a move to insult me. What was up? I take a few steps towards the door, reorganizing the contents of my bag. I come up short when I find an unfamiliar slip of paper. It's folded twice, and I recognize Mia's handwriting instantly as I open it up.
[i]Freak,[/i] it reads as an introduction,[i] loser, loner, whatever you are.[/i] How very original.
I'm about to throw it into the trash bin, when one of the later sentences catches my eye. [i]You're no better than an animal. My dog has more of a spine than you do. Do you always howl at the moon?[/i]
My breath catches in my throat, and the note crinkles as I crumble it into my fist. Does she know? I hadn't said a word. [i]She can't know. [/i]She can't, she can't! [i]She knows.[/i] How can she possibly know?[i] How did she find out?[/i]
Both the paper and my bag fall from my hands, and it's all I can do to contain my sobs as I tearfully flee the classroom.
Joined: 4 June 2010
Location: New Jersey USA
Posted: Monday 7 June 2010 06 58 57 am Post subject: Nocturnal Suprise in topic:Nocturnal Suprise
This is a story that I wrote for my writing class. I hope you all enjoy it.
She was sitting in the corner of the smallest room at number twelve Tolhurst Drive in Ascot. The room was tiny with no personal touches; it was painted a pale sickly green that clashed with the rest of the house. The room smelled like the woods that surrounded the house. There was a mattress on the floor with a beat up quilt lying across it and a wardrobe along the wall closest to the door.
In the corner by the tiny window that had a wonderful view of the woods sat Leda, she was small for her age, with bright red hair down to her waist and piercing green eyes. Leda was living in this house because her parents were murdered when she was just two years old but she did not know how or why.
Leda jumped up and ran toward the door; her Uncle Gordon just arrived home. Gordon was tall and thin, with black hair and he smelled of cigar smoke and alcohol no matter what time it was. He did not like Leda, so she went out the backdoor as he came in the front. This had become a ritual of sorts, Leda would leave the second Uncle Gordon arrived home and would stay gone, usually walking around the woods until dinner time. Leda could hear her father’s sister, her Aunt Larissa welcoming Gordon home and she moved quicker into the woods. No matter how long she was gone she was sure to hear the same thing when she got back for dinner. Uncle Gordon would ramble on about how she had ruined everything and that he was forced to take her on as a ward because nobody else wanted her after her parents died. Uncle Gordon and Aunt Larissa did not have children of their own. It was clear to Leda that her uncle hated children and that her aunt would do whatever she could to keep him happy.
Tonight was no different than any other night except that tomorrow is Leda’s sixteenth birthday. This was a fact that she and her aunt had spoke about earlier that day but neither would dare bring it up in front of her uncle. Leda walked for a few hours around the woods and imagined how it would be to get away from the home that she hated so much. The only good thing that she liked about living with her Aunt and Uncle were the hours that her Uncle was at work. Those were the hours when her Aunt would loosen up a little bit, a very little bit. She would not yell at Leda during these hours and would allow Leda to ask a few questions about anything but Leda’s parents. When Leda got home it was just like every other night, Uncle Gordon was sitting at the table already starting to ramble about Leda and Aunt Larissa was sitting there looking at him with such devotion but not saying a word. Leda blocked them out and ate the meatloaf that was put on her plate. She snuck away to her room as soon as her Aunt got up to get the coffee. She laid in her bed staring out the little window in her room. She listened to the rambling of her uncle muffled through the floor and then her aunt saying that she was tired. Leda heard them go into their room and close the door.
Leda woke at a quarter till midnight; she thought she heard something outside. She stood and stared out the window, she could not believe her eyes. Her Aunt was sneaking into the woods. Leda rushed to follow her and for some reason found it to be really easy. She could hear her aunt’s footsteps even though she was yards ahead of her, she could see like it was still daylight. Leda ran to catch up to her aunt and as she was running she felt exhilarated. A feeling of warmth swam down her spine and she felt like she could run forever. The warm feeling spread down her legs and into her toes, through her arms and hands and finally into her chest, Leda had no idea what was going on and she was a little scared but she also felt strong. When the warmth touched her chest she stopped running and examined herself slowly. She could see hair sprouting up her arms and down her legs; it was the same color as her hair, bright red. All of a sudden she sank to the floor with a shriek but it came out as a howl. She was twitching and anyone who would have seen this would say she was having a seizure. Leda arms were stretched out and she was watching terrified as her fingers became shorter and eventually turned into paws. Her legs and feet felt like they two were changing but she could not see them because she shut her eyes trying to force herself to wake up from this dream. Leda lay on the forest floor for a few minutes’ eyes shut tightly and breathing very heavily. Her breaths came in quick pants and she was able to smell everything around her. She could smell that she was close to the pond and she could smell the other animals around her. There were so many new sounds and smells that she could not identify right away but she promised herself that she would find out what all of them were. Leda went to stand but was very shaky. When she finally got to her feet she opened her eyes and was shocked to see that she was standing on four paws. She ran to the pond that was no far from the house but was well hidden in the forest. Leda looked down at her reflection and could see that she had become a large red wolf. She did not believe at first that this was her. Then she could see the piercing green eyes and knew that she was the wolf in the water.
Leda stood staring at herself in the pond for what seemed like days, until out of nowhere she could hear the howling and the falls of paws somewhere nearby. Leda’s first reaction was to hide. She did not know what was going on or what would happen to her. Just as she turned to runaway three massive wolves walked toward her and she could sense that she should not run but follow. Leda stared at them for a few minutes before they turned and started to walk away. She walked with the others for a quarter of an hour until they came to a clearing. The others entered ahead of her and when she finally caught up she was surprised to find two wolves and a teenage boy. She noticed as she watched him that he was attractive. He had black hair, eyes of ocean blue, and stood very tall. He spoke as soon as she sauntered in. He bowed and said “I am Cain, this is Connor,” he pointed at the sandy colored wolf and then pointed at the brown one, “and that is Deimos. We were asked to find you and bring you back to the meeting. Leda we have been waiting for you, we have missed you very much. If you would like to change back and talk to us, all you have to do is focus your mind and you will transform.” Leda, still scared but determined to find out what the hell was going on, focused on a picture of her human self in her mind and she could feel the cold spread through her. She lay on the ground this time voluntarily because she did not want to fall again. Her legs spread out and started to shake with the cold of the night. When she looked up she could see that the others were turned away. “It’s really cold” she said. Cain passed her a robe without looking at her, “I am sorry. It is really scary the first time. If you will follow us we will take you to the next clearing where the others are waiting.” Leda walked to him and simply said, “Where too?” She was feeling braver now that Cain was standing next to her. She could not explain to herself why his presence made her feel more at home. “We have to go to the rest of the clan. There the elders will explain to you what has been going on for the last thirteen years, fill you in on everything that has happened since you were taken.”
“What do you mean taken?” Leda asked but before she could finish the question they walked into a new clearing. There were at least ten people in the clearing sitting on logs and staring into the fire that was built right in the middle of the group. She leaned into Cain and asked, “All of these people are wolves?” He gave a short laugh and nodded his head before leading her to the part of the circle where four chairs were vacant. Seconds later her Aunt Larissa stood up, Leda’s jaw dropped and she quickly shut it before anyone could notice. Larissa started speaking to the group, “Leda is now of age. She has been brought back to take what is rightfully hers. She will be brought up on the conditions of the clan and then decide if she wants what her parents have left her.” Larissa turned and spoke directly to Leda, “Leda, I know that this is scary for you but you are a werewolf. I, as you know am your father, Evan’s sister. Although Gordon does acknowledge this he does not believe it is true. I will explain it to you shortly, I promise. Your mother was leader of this clan until she was murdered. Tonight you will find out why and how, if you wish. Do you wish me to continue or will you return to your home?” Leda was still in shock but she whispered, “I want to know what happened?” Her aunt continued, “Thirteen years ago on this night your parents were walking through these very woods with you. Miranda, your mother, wanted to run for a while and your father told her to go ahead, that he would watch you. She was changing when a human walked into the area. He started yelling at your parents. They grabbed you and ran back to the manor but they did not realize that they were being followed. The young man who walked in on your mother changing followed and once it was clear that everyone within the house was asleep he set the house on fire. Your mother and father could not get out and the door to your room was blocked. The man who set the house on fire could hear a baby crying and he sprinted into your room from the back way. He snatched you and ran from the house. I did all I could to keep up with him. Once he got back to his house I knocked on the door and explained that I was new to the area. I courted him but not out of interest,” She looked disgusted and then continued, “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I knew that it would be too dangerous for you to return to the clan until you came of age, so I married the idiot and took care of you as best I could without raising too many concerns from him. If he thought I took too much interest in you I would never be allowed alone with you. He told me what had happened but he swore that they must have taken you from some family nearby because you were just a baby and he believed that werewolves could not have children. I told him that we had to claim that you were my niece and that we took you in because my brother had passed away. I explained to him that this would quiet any questions that the neighbors would raise.” Larissa came to Leda and sat down in the chair next to her and continued, “Your mother was the leader of this clan, you inherited her duties. You have the right to refuse but we,” she waved her arm around the circle, “we would like you to stay and become our queen. Personally I would be forever grateful because I would never have to go back to that fool Gordon again. Will you join us Leda, will you be our queen?”
Leda still shocked felt a surge of love toward her aunt and stronger now that she knew what had happened. This was the life she was supposed to have. She was supposed to grow up in this clan with her mother and father in the lead. She would not have been worried during the change tonight she would have known and probably looked forward to the change occurring. She looked at the group before standing then she said, “Of course I will join you and help in whatever way I can. I know that I belong here!” Everyone in the group came up to her to kiss her cheeks, give her hugs and whisper words of welcome. Larissa introduced everyone but Leda focused more on the kids her own age. She had never had friends before. Her uncle would never allow her to talk to anyone. First, were the boys she already met but now two of them had girls on their arms. Deimos had a beautiful blonde with him, he introduced her as Luna. Luna had yellow eyes that matched her bright hair. She smelled of lilies and walked like she was on a runway. Her smile was amazingly sweet and she pulled the girl that was hugging Connor toward her. Luna said, “This is Carme. You probably don’t remember us but we use to be together all the time. My parents have pictures of the three of us running around when we were very little.” Leda laughed and was astonished because this felt familiar, like she was finally home. Carme was shorter than Leda and had short auburn hair that made her look more fairy like. When Carme hugged her, Leda was hit with the sweet smell of brown sugar. Next was Cain, he walked up to her and pulled her away from the group. “You are so beautiful. I have truly missed you! We were best friends when we were little. I have been keeping watch over you from the woods over the past year and I am so sorry I could not do anything to pull you away from that place.” Then he embraced her so tightly that she could not breath but the sensation of rightness came over her and when they walked back to the group she held tightly to his hand.
It seemed like minutes but was probably hours later that Larissa suggested that they show Leda to the new manor. The adults lead the way and the teens fell back to talk and joke but still followed. Leda and Cain walked yards behind the others. They talked for the past few hours but still had a lot to talk about. Leda wanted to get him alone to tell him something that was strange yet felt amazing. This was her chance so she stopped and looked up at him, “Cain,” but before she could go any further he was kissing her. He kissed her so deeply that her head was spinning, this was right she could tell that they were destined to be together. The others had explained to her that werewolves are born with a match already picked, there companion was always built perfectly for them and that once the two meet they would be in love forever. Every wolf had one from the moment they were born. The others say that they usually meet their matches younger than their transformation age of sixteen and that Cain was the only one in the group who had not found his companion. They explained it as walking around as only half of yourself until you meet him or her. Then once you meet, you would finally be whole and can be truly happy. Cain pulled away and looked into Leda’s eyes, “I have been waiting all year to do that. Happy birthday and welcome home.” He turned her toward the huge house that was now in front of them.
Leda was amazed at how wonderful the house was. It was big enough for the entire clan and looked to be very old but restored to like new conditions. She dashed toward the door with Cain holding her hand. The entrance opened and the entire clan was standing around an enormous birthday cake and singing happy birthday. Behind them was a banner that said “Welcome Home!” Leda walked through the doors and was finally were she was meant to be.
Joined: 28 December 2006
Location: Going through LeakyCon withdrawal
Posted: Wednesday 2 June 2010 11 47 26 am Post subject: Re: Albus potter and the Path Left Untrodden in topic:Albus potter and the Path Left Untrodden
The next story won't be up right away, but I am working on it!
Chapter 38: Silver Lining
Harry returned to tell everyone else about Balladanis later on in the afternoon. Madam Pomfrey flat out refused to let any of them leave the Hospital Wing, so she agreed to lock the door and go to her study while Harry explained. Matt's dad was there as well.
Harry told them everything he had told Albus, although he left out the parts about why it was not all that advisable to become a Presuler. Everyone was completely shocked to learn that Balladanis had been hired to help capture Washburn and the Willinsons.
Unfortunately, Harry also brought news of Lubar. News that was not all that welcome.
“As of right now, he's completely free and in the clear,” Harry sighed, “The Australian Ministry refuses to extradite him, and they won't prosecute him in Australia either. To them, it's like nothing's happened.”
Albus noticed that Mr. Eckerton looked positively furious with this. Harry looked quite angry as well, but it did not come close to how Mr. Eckerton looked.
“We're not going to give up,” Harry said, “We'll keep negotiating with them.”
Mr. Eckerton had also apparently been told about the Hallows. When Harry had spoken with him the previous night, it had been about the Hallows. Albus remembered back to his first year, when Matt had told them about his dad's young adult dream of locating the Hallows. Harry must've trusted him now.
Albus reached over to his bedside table, where Madam Pomfrey had placed the Invisibility Cloak the previous night. He wordlessly handed it to Mr. Eckerton, who carefully took it with a look of awe on his face.
“Merlin's beard,” he muttered, “It's the Cloak.”
“That it is,” Harry said quietly.
“Unbelievable,” Mr. Eckerton whispered as he fingered it.
He spent a few minutes trying the Cloak on before handing it back to Albus. “I cannot believe I've finally solved the case of the Hallows,” he said to Harry, “This is amazing. I would love to share the tale with my brother. Perhaps I could introduce you to him at the World Cup this summer.”
Harry nodded. “That would be fine. Perhaps I will eventually tell him as well.”
Albus wanted nothing more than to be allowed out of the Hospital Wing in time to go to dinner that night. He was sure Professor Kendrick would make some sort of announcement about the tournament and he did not want to miss it.
After a full ten minutes of begging on his part (helped out by Matt, John, and Kaden), Madam Pomfrey told him he was in no fit state to leave the ward. Albus thought this was ridiculous because he felt fine. So what if his arm was still bandaged and in a sling? That shouldn't stop him from eating dinner with the rest of the school.
Instead, Albus was forced to eat a quiet meal in the Hospital Wing and wait anxiously for Rose and Amanda to tell him what Kendrick said.
The girls showed up right after dinner ended. Albus immediately asked them what Kendrick had said.
“Tournament's canceled,” Rose sighed as she sat down on the end of Albus's bed, “The kids from New York are staying to finish out the year, but the tournament's canceled. I expect it'll be in the Prophet tomorrow.”
“Merlin!” Albus shouted, “Why'd they have to cancel it? Couldn't they just disqualify Australia?”
“No,” Rose shook her head, “To do that Hogwarts would have to play New York in another final.”
“Why don't they do that?” John asked.
“Too close to exams,” Rose shrugged, “It'll mess up everyone's studying.”
“That's stupid,” Albus fumed.
“If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure Hogwarts would've won if Australia hadn't have been here,” Rose pointed out, “And Kendrick gave one hundred house points to everyone who was on the Quidditch and dueling teams.”
“Yeah, well, all the houses had people on the teams, so that doesn't really help,” Albus muttered.
“Well,” Rose grinned, “I know one thing that'll cheer you up.”
“What?” Albus asked, even though there was nothing that could cheer him up.
“There were Quidditch scouts at that match,” Rose told him, “And even though the match was disastrous, they did find someone they wanted to draft.”
“Who?” Albus asked, slightly intrigued.
“Georgia!” Rose exclaimed, “She's been drafted to play for Kenmare Kestrals as soon as she graduates!”
“That's brilliant!” Albus replied. Rose had been right, that did cheer him up. There was no one he thought who belonged on a professional Quidditch team more than Georgia.
“Yup, she's their newest reserve Chaser,” Rose said, “She says Uncle Percy's not impressed. He wanted her to work at the Ministry. She doesn't care what he thinks, though.”
“Uncle Percy's got plenty of other kids to work at the Ministry,” Albus shrugged. He could never see Georgia working in government.
“Kenmare?” John said incredulously.
“Yeah, seriously?” Matt grimaced.
“They're nearly as bad as the Cannons,” John groaned.
“She's just happy to be on a team,” Rose shrugged, “She's always supported Puddlemere, but she thinks if she's on any team, she'll be able to work her way up to a better one.”
“Merlin, I hope so,” John shrugged.
“Is she the only one who got drafted?” Albus asked.
“Only one I know for sure of,” Rose said, “I heard a rumor that Anna Reilly got taken on by the Balycastle Bats, but I don't know for sure.”
Albus nodded, feeling slightly better about the tournament. It wasn't pointless now that he knew his cousin had been taken on by a professional Quidditch team because of it. However, that didn't take all the disappointment away.
Madam Pomfrey reluctantly let the boys leave the next day after breakfast. She didn't really have a choice since exams began that day. Albus felt perfectly fine and was quite happy to leave the place.
Rose handed him a copy of the Prophet as soon as he and the other boys reached the common room. Albus took it, happy that he had a few minutes before his first exam to read the article that was inevitably there.
AUSTRALIAN SCHOOL CHEATS- TOURNAMENT CANCELED
After a startling discovery made by two Hogwarts
students, the Quidditch and Dueling tournament
involving Hogwarts, the Adirondack Academy of
Magic, and the Australian School of Sorcery
has been canceled.
The tournament's final Quidditch match was
interrupted this past Saturday by two Hogwarts
sixth years, Fred Weasley and Heather Weasley,
both 17, who claimed that the Australian team
had been cheating throughout the entire
A few months ago, allegations were brought upon
the Australian team after their Seeker, Linda
Morales, 14, flew at an exceptionally fast speed.
An investigation found nothing. The tournament
Fred and Heather Weasley accused Linda Morales
of being a vampire. Vampires are outlawed
from playing on professional Quidditch teams due
to the unfair advantage they have.
The match was immediately stopped while all three
headmasters questioned the Weasleys and Morales.
Headmaster Addiar Killigan of the Australian
School of Sorcery admitted to allowing Morales
to be the Seeker of his team in order to win the
tournament. The Australian team was immediately
disqualified from the tournament.
Killigan, Morales, and the rest of the Australians
participating in the tournament left Hogwarts late
on Saturday, declining to speak with any of our
Tournament officials as well as the other two
headmasters have decided to cancel the tournament,
and not declaring a winner.
'It is regrettable that the tournament turned out
this way,' Fabius Kendrick told reporters, 'Perhaps
we can try it again in a few years.'
“Killigan is an idiot,” Albus said.
“Look at the next article,” Rose replied.
QUINTON WILLINSON BACK IN AZKABAN, JOINED BY WASHBURN
While the final Quidditch match was ending in disaster
at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry
Potter's middle child, Albus, 13, was dealing with his
Albus Potter, as well as cousin Kaden Dursley, 12, and
friends Matthew Eckerton and John Brickston, both 14,
were kidnapped by Quinton and Jarrett Willinson, and
Jameson Washburn. The three convicts were helped by
Ralph Lubar, Head of the Department of the Regulation
and Control of Magical Creatures in Australia.
The four Hogwarts students were taken to Australia
where Harry Potter and Walter Eckerton found them.
It is unclear what the convicts were after, as well as
why Lubar was involved.
Quinton Willinson and Jameson Washburn were caught and
sent to Azkaban. Lubar and Jarrett Willinson escaped.
Aurors are currently looking for Willinson and the
Ministry is negotiating with the Australian Ministry
about what to do with Lubar.
All four boys have recovered from the ordeal and are
currently taking their end of the year examinations
at Hogwarts. Harry Potter has declined comment.
“Well, that's not a very informative article,” Albus said as he tossed the paper onto a nearby table.
“I don't think they can report much,” Rose said, “The Australian Ministry may be asking them to keep quiet about Lubar in return for giving him some sort of punishment.
“It won't matter,” Matt said, “They're not going to do anything to him.”
Albus was forced to push Lubar into the back of his mind as exams began. They were all significantly harder than the previous year's had been, but he was sure he at least passed all of them.
There were short articles in the Prophet about Lubar everyday, but they all said the same thing. Australia refused to extradite him. Matt was not at all surprised by this, but it infuriated Albus to no end.
The week after exams was a strange one for Albus. There was nothing left for them to do. No studying, no homework, no Quidditch. Rose and Amanda went back to spending all their time with the boys, like it had been before Linda had arrived.
Things were different, though. Both Rose and Amanda were a lot quieter than they used to be. Albus was sure they missed Linda, and he had no idea whether she had said goodbye to them, or even if she'd had the chance.
Matt was lost in his own thoughts most of the time, rendering him quieter than ever. He often went entire evenings without saying two words to anyone, something that usually only happened around full moons. However, the next full moon wasn't until after they left Hogwarts.
Albus was sure this was because of what had happened in Australia. He never talked about it, but Albus knew that getting kidnapped by Lubar again had scared the daylights out of him.
John and Kaden remained as boisterous as ever and did not seem to be fazed by what had happened in Australia. They spent their week pulling pranks and playing endless games of Exploding Snap that Albus occasionally joined in on.
Albus himself was quieter. His mind was racing with thoughts of Lubar and Balladanis. None of the articles ever mentioned Balladanis, but he knew that was because Balladanis's job had to remain a secret. He wished more than anything that Lubar would get thrown in prison, whether it was Azkaban or Australia's prison.
The train ride back to London was subdued, the only noise being John and Kaden's Exploding Snap cards. Albus and Matt both gazed out the window, mesmerized by the passing landscape.
“Linda sent me a letter last night,” Rose said, breaking the silence.
Albus lifted his head up and looked at her. “What about?”
“She told us she was sorry, and wanted me to tell you that she was sorry about the tournament,” Rose told him, “She's on the run with her mum now. They're thinking of moving to a different country.”
“To go to school?” Albus asked.
“No,” Rose shook her head, “She's been through school a couple times already. She wasn't even a student at the Australian school. Killigan pretty much forced her into playing Seeker for them. He's a really nasty bloke. They have to get out now, though, because everyone knows.”
“Where will they go?” Albus asked, surprised that he was actually feeling sorry for Linda.
“No idea,” Rose shrugged, “She said she'd owl me when they find out.”
“This whole year has been so messed up,” John sighed, “I hope next year's better.”
“Me, too,” Matt agreed.
“We've got the World Cup to look forward to, though,” Albus smiled.
“Oh, yeah!” John grinned, “Owl me as soon as you find out when we're leaving for it.”
“Definitely,” Albus said, “Your sister's going, too. Lily told me she'd invited her. Hugo's not really happy about that.”
“Neither am I,” John muttered, “I don't want Ashtyn going.”
“Well, I'd prefer Lily not go, but it's the Cup! Nothing can really ruin it,” Albus said.
“Good point,” John agreed.
“Let me know when the Cup is,” Kaden said.
“Why? So you can convince your parents to take you?” John smirked.
“No,” Kaden laughed, “So I can know when to invite you lot to my house. My dad said he'd take us camping.”
“Excellent!” John grinned, “Camping like Muggles?”
“Yep,” Kaden replied, “Living in tents, no electricity, no magic either since we're all underage.”
“There is no way my parents will let me go,” Matt said quietly.
“Why not?” Kaden asked.
“I went camping when I was five,” Matt answered, “That was the time I got bitten.”
“Oh,” Kaden looked a little taken aback, “Sorry.”
“It's ok,” Matt shrugged, “Just don't go during a full moon. I don't want any of you having to join me in the Shrieking Shack next year.”
“I'll go,” Albus said. He'd never been camping before, let alone camping like a Muggle. He did feel bad that Matt wouldn't get to go, but he kind of thought Matt wouldn't want to go anyway.
The remainder of the trip was spent arguing about Quidditch and Albus felt like things were sort of returning to normal. It was almost nice to hear John and Matt arguing about the Cannons again and Kaden arguing about football.
The train arrived in London and Albus found his parents waiting for him on the platform. After saying goodbye to his friends, Albus left the station with his family feeling that just maybe life would be normal from then on. Well, maybe the summer would be at least be normal. Albus couldn't get his hopes up too high.
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