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Blood of the Heart | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff Warnings: Death, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 411 Summary: 7th Yr Sequel to Ancient Magic. It is now known the power of immortality resides inside Harry and Ginny. Will their combined powers be enough to protect them from the Dark Lord? Hitcount: Story Total: 198376; Chapter Total: 7402 |
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Disclaimer — I do not own or profit monetarily from the Harry Potter world. Early morning sunlight filtered through the scrubbed windows of the Burrow, highlighting the stray dust particles dancing in its wake. Molly Weasley sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a half empty mug of tea, her eyes itchy and puffy, her insides hollow and numb. Chehalis sat in the middle of the table, staring at her. She hadn’t slept last night, tossing and turning next to the snoring form of her husband. Finally, unable to quell the rolling anger at Arthur’s ability to slumber while things were so unsettled, she quietly sat up, pushed off the faded quilt and slipped her dressing gown on. Her slippers padded her footfalls as she made her way down the quiet hall. She stopped on the threshold of Ginny’s room, still empty except for the cat refusing to move from the end of the bed. Molly pushed the door open, the creaky hinges causing her to cringe at their loudness in the quiet of the night. As she shuffled in, Chehalis looked questioningly up at her. Molly knew it was foolish to be angry at the cat, but she was. She couldn’t help it. That cat was a reminder of everything she had no control over anymore. Molly leaned down to scoop Chehalis up. She had no intention of letting that witch’s cat stay in her house. He could go sleep in the broom shed in the garden until tomorrow, when she would pack him up and send him to — to — Molly couldn’t even finish her thought as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. Her knees buckled as she dropped to Ginny’s bed, her hand letting go of Chehalis. Molly fell onto Ginny’s pillow, pressing the downy bulk to her face and drawing a ragged breath as the sobs began to build. Her baby was missing. Molly lay there, her tears spreading into dark, damp circles on the soft, faded cotton pillowcase. Indifferent to her attitude toward him, Chehalis unceremoniously climbed over Molly’s trembling side. Butting his head against her chin, Molly shifted the pillow so her arm now bent at the elbow, leaving the cat a place to curl up and lean against her. Molly sniffled at the cat, indignation at Chehalis’ audacity rising in her throat. Curling her hand under the cat’s body in order to toss him off the bed, Molly stopped, feeling the fast beating feline heart under the fur. Involuntarily, she scratched the softness, her hand spreading into the fur soaking up its warmth. It was comforting. As her breathing slowed and her tears dried, something Catarina had said the night Ginny and Harry had left came back to her. Molly had been arguing that no one in their right mind could ever want to become a Mediator. In the end it seemed so one sided. Catarina had listened from across the table and nodded. “I cannot speak for Ginny,” Catarina replied softly. “But from what Nathan tells me of her, she is a very loving, selfless individual. Nathan tells me she and Harry share a very special relationship. My guess is to her, this is a gift, something she can give without expecting anything in return except the pleasure she knows from having done something that will benefit Harry.” Molly rested her palm on Chehalis’ stomach, feeling it rise and lower as the cat breathed. Looking down at the cat, she drew a ragged breath and hiccupped. Blinking into the darkness, she found her eyes closing, listening to the rhythmic rumbles of purring. Now, in the early morning hours, Molly stared at the unblinking cat sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. She realized she owed him some gratitude for the comfort he’d given her. For that, she wouldn’t put him in the broom shed tonight. After all, deep down, she knew Chehalis had now chosen Ginny so she’d probably be seeing more of him. But that still didn’t mean she had to like him. Molly’s eyes followed Chehalis as he silently stretched, his tail reaching toward the ceiling, his head dipping low to the table. In one fluid movement, the cat jumped from the table to the window sill above the sink and hissed. Alarmed and surprised, Molly jumped, tea sloshing down her front as she got up and went to the window and pushed it open. Pig zoomed in through the crack. Chehalis batted at the hyper owl, back arched, tail alert. Molly couldn’t help but smile a little at the cat as Chehalis planted himself on the counter top below the cupboard Pig finally perched, his tail tapping just waiting for his chance. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Molly exclaimed, realizing Pig was refusing to come into reach. Pushing a chair over, Molly climbed up to untie the parchment on Pig’s leg. “Ron’s been looking for you,” she scolded the hyper owl who hopped from leg to leg making her task difficult. “He expected you back a while ago.” Stepping down from the chair, Molly unfolded the parchment. Her face paled as she read the note. Her heart racing, Molly covered her mouth with her hand and blinked back tears of relief. Clutching the parchment in her fist, Molly looked at Chehalis and whispered, “She’s alright! They’re both alright!” With a flash, she spun toward the stairs. “ARTHUR! ARTHUR! THEY’RE ALRIGHT! THEY’RE ALRIGHT!” Running up the steps as fast as she could, waving the parchment over her head, Molly completely missed Chehalis’ glare from the counter that could only be read as, Well, I told you so. ++++ Ginny’s stomach rumbled as she walked stiffly through the afternoon sunbeams streaming through the castle windows toward the kitchen. Madam Pompfrey had deemed picking up a snack from the kitchen an excellent way to stretch her legs. Ginny wondered if the nurse had been working with Professor Borgin regarding Ancient Magic healing remedies when she added, “It gets the blood flowing! And as you know, blood flow is rather important.” After promising she would go straight to the kitchen and come straight back, Ginny tied the tie of her borrowed dressing gown around her waist and headed out of the hospital wing. Ginny tickled the pear, entered the kitchen and looked around. From the end of the kitchen, a whirl of arms, legs and socks flew at her, tackling her around the knees and throwing her off balance. “Ginny Wheezey! Dobby heard you were in the castle. And Harry Potter, too! Dobby is honored to see you and be of service to you!” Ginny reached out to steady herself against the nearest long table and smiled down at the enthusiastic house elf who had glued himself to her knees. “Uh, hi, Dobby,” Ginny said, leaning down and gently untangling herself from his grasp. “How are you?” “Dobby is fine, Ginny Wheezey. You are too kind to ask! What can Dobby do for Ginny Weezey today? “Well, I’m here for a snack. Madam Pompfrey thought it would be good exercise for me to come down and get a tray.” Dobby’s smile reached from ear to ear as he started scurrying around the kitchen gathering fruit, bread and cheese and piling it on a tray. Ginny had to grin as she shifted the tray to get a better hold on it as she made her way back to the hospital wing. She knew Hermione’s heart was in the right place when it came to S.P.E.W., but it was hard to deny Dobby’s obvious pleasure and enthusiasm when it came to taking care of people, especially anyone connected to his Harry Potter. Ginny pushed the door open to the Hospital Wing open with her shoulder and backed into the infirmary. Walking over to her bed, she carefully pushed Harry’s glasses to the side as she placed the tray on the table in between the beds. Harry slept in the bed next to hers. He was pale, but his breathing deep and even. Ginny watched him as she scooted up on her bed and reached out for the goblet of pumpkin juice. “So, how are you feeling?” Madam Pompfrey asked as she walked up to the end of Ginny’s bed. Ginny swallowed. “Good.” Madam Pompfrey raised her eyebrows at her patient. “A little stiff,” Ginny admitted honestly, “but much better than I did two days ago. How’s Harry?” she asked anxiously. Poppy Pompfrey sighed and walked up the side of Harry’s bed. She studied her most frequent (and favorite, not that she’d tell anyone that) patient. Sighing, she patted the side of the bed next to Harry and turned to face Ginny. “He needs his rest. As do you,” she said pointedly, turning toward her office. “Madam Pompfrey?” Ginny asked, hopping down from her bed. Madam Pompfrey stopped and turned. “Do you know how badly he was hurt? I mean, is there a way to tell —“ “Miss Weasley, I cannot tell you any more. I need to confer with the Headmaster and Professor Borgin, both of whom are scheduled to arrive back at the castle —“ “Professor Borgin is alright?” Ginny interrupted anxiously. “Catarina said Professor Dumbledore thought he was missing, perhaps even with Vo-“ “Yes,” Madam Pompfrey broke in before Ginny could finish the name. “Yes, he is fine and will be back shortly. I will know more then. Presently, I can assure you Harry is resting comfortably. Now,” the nurse said briskly, “you need to eat and get some rest yourself.” Ginny watched Madam Pomprey enter her office before turning to study Harry. Slowly, she climbed onto Harry’s bed, snuggling down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hand fisted in the blankets covering him. She listened to his breathing, her vision beginning to blur with the tears that she had held at bay for the past two days. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry.” +++++ Anna Patterson wiped her hands down the front of her shorts. Pulling a frayed blue bandana out of her back pocket, she mopped at the sweat that was beading up under her bangs. Throughout her life, she had always been envious of women who didn’t appear to perspire. Her father had told her sweating was a sign of health. It meant she was in good shape. Her mother told her it was unladylike and she needed to move slower. Anna sighed, shoved the bandana back into her pocket and surveyed her work. It had taken six months but she had finally gotten around to it. Her co-worker Simon had said she needed to do it in order to move on. The truth was Anna wasn’t sure she wanted to move on. Moving on meant her parents were really dead, something she hadn’t been ready to admit. Six months ago, a ceiling in a tomb had crumbled on top of them, the structure spells not holding. Since then, she had opened the door to the flat above the street market every Monday morning. And every Monday morning, she would close the door behind her, not able to get past the flood of memories and emotions that washed over her when she stepped over the threshold. Anna leaned her forehead against one of the packed boxes sitting in a stack, waiting to be sent to its new destination. Anna’s childhood was one most children dreamt of. She had had two loving parents, had never wanted for clothes or shelter, and had seen the world several times over. Her father had been a wonderful, supportive man, the kind of father who loved life and pursued it with everything he had. It had meant a nomadic lifestyle which fed into every girlhood fantasy Anna could dream up. She loved the adventure, the new locales every year or so, the exotic foods and faces. In the midst of all the change and excitement, her mother had tried her best to turn Anna into a lady, but Anna simply loved the dust and dirt too much. Being the flexible woman she was, Anna’s mother had instead poured her energy into Anna’s education, hoping deportment and proper etiquette would just come naturally. Unfortunately, Anna’s father had given her the nickname ‘Grace’ as a child much to her mother’s chagrin and it wasn’t because Anna had loads of it. Anna straightened up and took a steadying breath. It was time to take one last look around the flat and say good bye to her mother and father. She walked through the empty rooms, running her finger across the dusty windowsills, touching the shelves that used to hold the mementos of her parents’ lives, remembering the two people who had loved her most. No, she thought sadly, stopping in front of the window overlooking the street. At one point in time, there had been another. She turned, her back against the windowpane, her hands flattened on the window sill. She had never lived in this flat. In fact, her parents had only been here two years, which had been an extraordinarily long time for them. Yet, she could feel them here, around her, wanting to hold her, to keep her. To stifle her. “You need to break free of them, Anna. You are your own person. You need to tell them that.” Anna shook the voice in her head away. Even after all these years, she could still hear him, the truth in his words full of hurt and confusion because of her decisions. Pushing off the window sill, she walked to the back of the flat and into the now empty master bedroom. Giving the room a cursory once over, she was about to leave when her eye caught on a dark spot in the closet. Crossing the floor, she leaned down and saw a small black iron knob, close to the floor, on the back wall. Kneeling on the floorboards, Anna crawled to the back of the closet and pulled. The door stuck. She pulled harder. It wouldn’t budge. Anna flattened her palm against the back wall, bracing herself, and gave the door one more yank. With the scraping of warped wood, the door gave way, sending Anna falling back onto the floorboards with an ungraceful thump. Anna raised her eyebrows to the ceiling, sure she could feel her mother rolling her eyes. Getting back up on her knees and lighting her wand, Anna reached in and pulled out a battered gray metal box. There was a small key hole under the clasp on the front. Anna stared at it for a moment, her mind putting together the puzzle pieces. Then, she sat back and slowly reached under the collar of her shirt to pull out a silver chain, warmed from her skin, with a small key dangling at the bottom. Her father had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday. “The key to my heart,” he had told her, ruffling her hair. He had told her to wear it always and to never give it to anyone. He had said it was special, that it was the key to great things. She had giggled and told him his heart was safe with her. She had never thought to ask where ‘his heart’ was. Anna extinguished her wand and placed it on the floor next to her knees. Holding the tarnished key in between her thumb and forefinger, Anna leaned forward and slipped it into the lock. She turned it and heard a click. Anna lifted the lid. Inside the box lay a folded piece of parchment with a broken wax seal on the back and a bundle of worn fabric. Lifting the two items out, she made sure the box was empty and set it aside. Setting the bundle on her knees, Anna carefully peeled back the pieces of threadbare fabric. Nestled in the middle was a tarnished key. Anna picked it up and held it to the light, studying the ornately carved loops at the top that narrowed to a circular inch long smooth rod. Anna knew what this was. It belonged to one of the shoebox-size safe boxes at Gringotts. The key was charmed to fit only into the one it was matched to. Wrapping the key back in the fabric, Anna placed it on the floor next to her feet and turned her attention to the letter. Anna carefully unfolded the parchment to reveal several paragraphs of neat, tidy feminine handwriting. She quickly scanned the words. Dear Jonathon….Thank you for meeting with me…As we discussed, I would like very much if you would review my research…Your knowledge regarding protection spells is reknown…I have obtained a box and left you a copy as you suggested…I remember your daughter from school… Anna’s eyes flew to the signature. Lily Potter. Anna bit her bottom lip. Her eyes drifted to the window, staring unseeingly through the dusty glass panes. Anna thought back to her year at Hogwarts. Her mother and father had been researching the tombs under one of those crumbling piles of rocks someone long ago used to call a castle and home. It had been the only time she had ever been away from her family. She had been miserable, but she remembered Lily Evans being kind to her when, as a fourth year student, she had been sorted into Gryffindor, showing her the school, sitting next to her in class, letting her borrow notes from previous years to help her catch up. Lily had even said Nathan seemed nice when he started hanging about. Nathan. Her heart leapt at the thought of him. She had no idea where he was. She had heard, though, through various channels, his father had passed away last year. Perhaps he would have resurfaced after that. Perhaps his uncle would know where he was. If he was in London, perhaps she could see him — to make sure he was alright. She swallowed, her eyes lighting up with excitement at the thought. She shivered, feeling as if a cold breeze was blowing through the August heat in the flat. “Anna, he isn’t good enough for you! He’s been in Azkaban! His father is shifty, his mother is missing. I don’t care that you knew him at that school. You will get over him soon enough.” Sighing, Anna looked back at the letter. She knew Lily married James and had a son. Well, of course, Anna thought, Lily and James Potter. Harry Potter. Anna looked down at the parchment. Why would Lily Potter have sent this to her father? Anna carefully laid the wrapped up key on top of the parchment. She reached for her satchel and opened it. She withdrew the letter Gringotts had sent her and laid it on the table. She then placed the key and parchment into her satchel and closed it. Pulling her satchel toward her, she picked up the letter and the bag and walked straight to the door, turned the knob and opened it. Stepping onto the threshold, she turned to look at the flat, now only filled with a pile of the boxes the movers would deal with tomorrow under Simon’ supervision. Anna raised her eyes to the ceiling. She now knew it wasn’t only time for her to let go. It was past time for her parents to let go of her as well. “Good bye, Mum and Dad. I love you. But you were wrong about him.” Giddy with a newfound freedom, she almost laughed as a burst of cold air slammed the door in her face. +++++ “Good afternoon, Miss Weasley.” Ginny looked up from Catarina’s notes. For lack of better things to do and in hopes of quieting the nagging doubts nibbling at the back of her mind, Ginny had been spending her time poring over the notes she had grabbed before making their escape. She smiled as Professor McGonagall briskly walked to the end of her bed. “And how are you feeling?” “Better, thank you,” Ginny replied. “I understand Mr. Potter has made a turn for the better,” Minerva McGonagall commented, her eyes traveling over the still form of Harry. “Uh, yeah,” Ginny replied. “Madam Pompfrey says his magical abilities have started to come back and he should wake up soon.” “Very good.” Ginny smiled slightly at the sound of relief in Professor McGonagall’s tone. “In light of recent events and since school is going to be resuming in a few short days, Professor Dumbledore has suggested you remain here at school. If that is acceptable to you, I will send an owl to your home and make arrangements for your school things and books to be sent here.” Surprised at the implication she had a choice in the matter, Ginny glanced over at Harry for guidance. A few days alone in Hogwarts with Harry sounded wonderful. If only he would wake up and tell her what he thought, she’d feel much better. Of course she missed her family, but for safety’s sake, perhaps this was best. Ginny nodded. “Very well, I will send the appropriate owls,” Professor McGonagall said before reaching into the pocket of her robes. “One of the items that would normally be sent to your home is your O.W.L. scores. In light of the situation, Professor Dumbledore thought it best for you to receive them here.” Ginny reached out for the parchment, her hand trembling slightly as eagerness and trepidation warred inside her. Unrolling the parchment, her eyes scanned the scores. Her cheeks puffed as she let out the breath she’d been holding. She could feel the blush creep up her cheeks as she looked up at Professor McGonagall. “Congratulations, Miss Wealsey.” “Thank you, Professor,” Ginny grinned. “Do you need anytime to consider your career options or have you something in mind?” Ginny swallowed, her eyes darting to Harry’s face and back again. “I’d like to become a curse breaker.” Professor McGonagall nodded. “I shall contact Flourish & Blotts for the appropriate texts,” she said as she turned to exit. Ginny read the parchment in her hands again. Her smile spread from ear to ear as she flopped backwards, landing on her pillow. She kicked her feet up in the air, giggling. “Good news?” a raspy voice came from the bed next to her. Ginny’s head whipped around. “Harry!” “Yeah,” Harry croaked, his eyes fluttering shut again. Ginny scrambled off her bed and perched on the side of Harry’s. “Harry?” she whispered. Harry grunted, his eyes closed. Ginny leaned down and kissed Harry softly before snuggling down next to him. She felt Harry’s groan under her cheek as he shifted his arm to pull her closer. Closing her eyes, Ginny breathed freely for the first time in several days. ++++ Anna Patterson stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front doors of Gringotts. Some things don’t change, she thought. These steps still took her breath away in all their polished stone glory. The last time she had stood on this spot was her first day of work for Gringotts. She had stared in awe as the uniformed doorman opened the bronze front doors. Walking through them, she had stood for a moment, memorizing the warning to thieves and knew she had made the right decision. As a harried witch bumped into her shoulder, Anna returned to the present, realizing she was doing her best impression of a rock in a moving stream, and moved to rejoin the flow of witches and wizards on their way into the financial institution. Anna paused in the large hall, enjoying the slight chill that radiated off the marble. It had been many years since she had been here. Her co-worker Simon had wondered if it had been too many. She had tried to explain to him that it was necessary. He had shrugged his shoulders and said she was mental to go back for a desk job. Unfortunately, Simon had an uncanny knack of being right most of the time. As she made her way to the long counter, Anna noticed heads turn to stare. Self consciously, she eyed the other bank customers, dressed in their robes, going about their business. She felt her face flush as she caught her reflection in the polished marble of the countertop. The worn straw hat that did a mediocre job at best at keeping her freckles at bay in the hot desert sun sat askew on the top of her head. Strands of unruly brown curls stuck out at odd angles from under the brim. She quickly reached up and straightened it before untying the knot securing a ragged red bandana around her neck. Shoving the cloth in her satchel by her feet, Anna took inventory of her crumpled white traveling shirt and wrinkled khakis. In her mind she could hear her mother’s voice as if it had been yesterday. ”Anna Elizabeth Patterson! You are hopeless! You can break charms that have baffled hundreds of wizards for thousands of years but you can’t seem to remember a simple ironing charm? Honestly!” On a positive note, though, her boots gleamed up at her, respectable and polished as she had only purchased them yesterday at the outdoor market her parents’ flat overlooked. A recent tourist had traded them in for a more suitable pair of sand shoes and the merchant had been only too willing to sell them to her at a good price. Anna snorted. I’ve got to quit listening to the voices in my head. “Pardon?” a voice inquired from the other side of the counter. Anna’s head jerked up. “Oh. My. Did I say that out loud?” Anna asked, flushing at her gaffe. “May I help you?” the goblin asked, looking slightly perturbed at Anna’s apparent mental instability. “Uh, yes,” she said, chiding herself for the nervousness she felt bubbling up inside. “I’m here to see Slavoff.” Anna withdrew a folded piece of parchment from her shirt pocket and handed it to the Goblin. After reading it, he looked up and motioned to her with one of his long, knobby fingers. “Follow me.” Curious eyes followed Anna and her guide as she was lead around the end of the counter and through a door marked Gringott Goblins and Authorized Witches and Wizards ONLY. The Goblin stopped at the first door on the left and waved his hand. Anna heard the lock click and door silently glide open. “You may wait here. Someone will be with you shortly.” “Th — thank you,” Anna called to the Goblin’s retreating back. Anna quickly pulled herself into the room to avoid having the door, which was magically closing, hit her in the head. The door clicked shut and Anna tested the knob and grinned. Goblins didn’t trust anyone, even witches who had been working for them for almost twenty years. Anna placed her satchel on the highly polished conference table and plopped into one of the four high backed wooden chairs surrounding it. She found herself eye level to the table top and sitting on the hardest wooden seat imaginable. She had to look down to make sure she wasn’t really sitting on a rock. Shifting her weight in an effort to try and find a comfortable seat, Anna realized these chairs were not designed for a guest’s comfort. That’s one way to make sure meetings don’t run long, she mused. Deciding she’d rather stand for the time being, Anna started pacing around the table, her finger trailing over the top of the chairs as she passed by, her eyes focused on the satchel in the middle of the table. She had left her parents’ flat less than twenty four hours ago and now here she was, counting blue flecks in the polished marble floor of a conference room in Gringotts waiting for someone to tell her what to do. She looked up as the door clicked and a familiar face entered. “Bill Wealsey!” Anna exclaimed smiling and holding out her hand. “You aren’t Slavoff.” Grinning, Bill stepped forward and enveloped Anna’s hand in his own. “No, and I've overhear several witches claim he’s better looking. He’s also busy so sorry, you’re stuck with me today.” “I don’t mind a bit. How’s the family? It was really nice to meet them in Egypt. Heavens, how long ago was that? Three years? Four?” “Uh, four, actually,” Bill grinned. Of all the curse breakers Bill had worked with, Anna was one of his favorite. She was hard working, smart and didn’t mind getting dirty. She had a talent of cutting to the chase and not getting bothered with the formalities. But it was her utmost respect for those around her, living and dead, cursed or not, that had always inspired his respect. He had even gone so far as telling her that at one point in time. Granted it was after consuming probably one too many shots of firewhiskey, but he had meant it all the same. “So,” Bill said, motioning to one of the chairs. “As I’ve just been told, I’m working for you now.” “What? No!” Anna exclaimed. “That can’t be. Oh, no thanks on the seat. Those chairs are horrid. That would make — make me, what — I don’t even know the title. I’m just a Hexologist. They can’t be serious.” Bill grinned as he pushed a piece of parchment toward her. “They are. And all you have to do is put a cushioning charm on the chair.” Bill pulled out his wand and waved it over a chair which magically scooted out for Anna. “Oh, right,” Anna flushed. “Thank you.” Picking up the parchment and sliding down into the chair, Anna felt her knees buckle as the chair moved forward. Flailing slightly, she fell backwards, pleasantly surprised at her soft and cushy landing. Holding the parchment up, she grimaced. Rummaging in her satchel, she pulled out a pair of glasses and slipped them on her nose. She looked up as Bill snorted. “What?” she asked. “I’m getting old.” Bill chuckled. “Positively ancient,” he grinned. “Chief Witch Hexologist and Curse Breaker,” Anna read softly, not quite able to believe the title. She hadn’t realized this was a promotion. “Congratulations,” Bill said, tenting his fingers on the table. “You deserve it.” “Thank you,” Anna said, beginning to feel slightly giddy at the news. “Can I ask you something?” Anna looked up at Bill’s attempt at a casual tone. “Sure,” she answered. “Why’d you come back? I mean, they’ve been talking about getting you back here for years. Why now?” Anna carefully laid the parchment on the table in front of her and tapped her fingertips on it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to recite the answer she had prepared. She made the mistake of meeting Bill’s eyes through her eyelashes and her shoulders slumped. “Honestly, Bill,” she said, “I don’t know. You know my parents died?” Bill nodded. “I’m sorry.” “Thank you,” Anna replied softly. “I was very close with them. It took me a while to tie up the loose ends but I did and then, I suppose, I decided I needed to do something that didn’t remind me of them every time I turned around.” Anna’s eyes flitted to her satchel. “And I have a few things I need to do here. So the offer came at a good time.” Bill cleared his throat and smiled. “Well, welcome back. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances, but I’m glad to have you here. We can certainly use your talents. Let me show you to your desk and you can get settled,” Bill said standing up. “I’m assuming you’re going to need a place to stay?” “Yes, I’m going to have to find someplace,” Anna said, tripping slightly as the shoulder strap to her satchel caught on the back of the chair. Untangling the bag, she held it close to her side and smiled at Bill. “I was actually thinking of seeing if I could get a little flat or cottage in that little town near Hogwarts. I remember it was rather nice.” Bill nodded. “Hogsmeade. It is. And you certainly can Apparate from here to there. You’ll like it.” Anna smiled as she followed Bill out of the conference room, the familiar excitement building. New adventures always did that to her. Her eyes scanning the walls, Anna didn’t notice when the flooring changed from the polished marble to one of rounded stones. Catching herself against the wall with her hand as she tripped over her toes, Anna righted herself and focused her eyes on Bill’s ponytail. Anna giggled. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t feel her mother’s eyes rolling. +++++ A/N — All my thanks to my betas wvchemteach & Kissmegrint. |
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