Ten years had never gone by so quickly, I thought, walking into Hogwart's Entrance Hall. It had been ten years since I graduated and I had never come back. Not because I hadn't loved school, just because I was busy.
It felt weird to be back, that was for sure. The high heels I'd purchased just for the day made a crisp clicking noise on the stone beneath my feet. As I walked into the Great Hall, I searched for anyone I might recognize.
I saw a few women who might have been Slytherins, I wasn't sure exactly. They looked vaguely familiar, but age distorted looks. I'd never been good friends with the Slytherins anyways. I scanned the room for someone I did recognize.
To avoid having to be the awkward person who was looking for someone else, I got some punch out of an ornate glass pitcher to one side of the room. As I ladled the frothy, pastel drink into a cup, I heard my name.
"Norah Dale!" someone called, and I turned around. I hadn't recognized the voice right away, but once I connected it to a face, I was springing off in that direction.
"Al!" I said, smiling. I hadn't seen Albus Potter in years, longer than I could remember off the top of my head. He gave me a tight hug and it was hard to resist reciprocating his contagious smile.
"I haven't seen you in ages," I told him. We'd been great friends in Hogwarts, but life had pulled us in two different directions. He'd gone into Potions research for the Department of Mysteries, and I'd gone into Healing. Fat lot of good that had done me.
"When was the last time?" he wondered outloud. I was pretty sure we both knew it, though neither of us came right out with it.
"About seven years ago..." I said.
"Right," he nodded. His mum's funeral had been seven years ago. She had died in a freak accident that I wasn't really sure of the details. Even to me, everything had become fuzzy. I just remembered sending flowers and showing up to give him a hug. And seeing James Potter cry. The simple memory of seeing someone who had always been so tough cry was one that would stay with me forever.
I shook my head and cleared my mind of that day, knowing he probably wouldn't want to talk about it. Who would want to talk about it? No one, I guessed, and wracked my brain for something to talk about next. I could sense that we were kindred spirits, neither of us had dates or came with friends.
I recalled that he was married. I had, after all, been to his wedding. He'd married someone from our year, a quiet girl named Colleen. I knew they had a small child, a girl if I remembered correctly. That was always a point for conversation. But then I remembered that he and Colleen had split up about a year ago. It came back to me quickly, it had been a huge thing in the papers. I hadn't paid much attention anyways.
"How's work?" he asked me.
A sigh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "I was laid off," I told him. "Four months ago."
The look on his face showed true sympathy. "I'm so sorry," he told me. "Are you doing anything for work?"
I shrugged. "I watch my sister's children and she lets me live in her basement," I told him. "It's great."
He chuckled at my sarcasm. "If it's any better I've got a great house... all to myself."
"I'm sorry," I told him, thinking about how awful it must have been to have had the perfect little family and to have lost it. I was lonely as well, but I had never known what it was like. "How's your baby?"
"Silvia," he said, and I was grateful he threw me her name. "Is fantastic. Absolutely keeps me going."
"Good," I said, nodding. "How old is she again?"
"She'll be three at the end of June," he told me. "She's getting big. Talks up a storm, she's adorable. I wish I had her more often."
"How often do you get her?" I asked.
"Every weekend," he told me. "Gives Colleen a bit of a rest and me quality time with my girl."
I couldn't help but smile. Al had always been a pretty caring bloke at school. Quiet and kept mostly to himself, but I couldn't help but think that was due to his upbringing. Being the son of Harry and Ginny Potter brought him enough attention. I bet he made a good father. "That's good," I said.
We both surveyed the crowd. I began to recognize a few people. But not anyone I really wanted to see. "Why'd you come?" he asked me.
"Not sure, to be perfectly honest," I told him. "Seemed like the right thing to do when the invitation came. Why are you here?"
"Same reason," he said. "Want to leave?"
I looked at him to see if he was serious, then looked back to the party. I'd spent ten galleons on my ticket and another ten galleons on my shoes. I assessed my boredom level and what I was likely going to do for the next three hours: sit at a table and make awkward small talk with people I didn't even know why I came to see in the first place..
"Let's go," I told him. We snuck back out through the entrance and walked into Hogsmeade, looking for somewhere to have lunch. We settled on a little place on the edge of the village, pretty much because it was nearly empty. We took our lunches outside. It was the first nice week in awhile, enjoying it was easy.
It was strange, how we hadn't seen each other in seven years or been close friends in ten, but being around Al was easy.
"I have an... idea," he said. "And stop me if it's crazy."
"Go on," I said. A million possibilities for this 'idea' ran through my head, but I waited for him to speak again to let my mind start to develop them.
"So you don't have a job, or really a place to stay... right?" he asked. "And you're a Healer, so it's not as if you've got a thousand places to apply..."
"Right..." I said. He had taken this in a direction I hadn't seen coming.
"Well," he began, before running a hand through his dark hair. "My Dad is sick."
That also came out of no where. "I'm so sorry, Al," I said. "
He nodded. A look of the pure agony that was watching someone you loved dearly going through an illness came across his face for a moment before he covered it up with a more neutral face. "He's getting to the point where I want to hire a caretaker. He won't agree to it, of course, so I'll probably just ask if a friend can stay there for a week or two and just have you not leave until... y'know. I just don't want him alone right now."
"What's wrong with him?" I asked.
"Some Muggle disease..." he said. "Cancer. St. Mungo's has no idea what to do with him, Muggle doctors won't treat him. It's in his bones and all they can do is give him strong pain potions and he won't take them because he thinks they make him crazy. I don't know what to do... would you ever consider being his caretaker?"
"Of course," I said, before I could even truly think about it. I just wanted to help Al. He was so sad.
"It won't be for very long. The Healers gave him a few months, maximum, but it gives you some room of your own and he's actually quite agreeable and I just want someone who will take care of him," all of his words were very fast and I could see that he was sad. I knew his chest was clenched as he spoke. I was lucky enough to have both of my parents here
"I would love to, Al," I told him, leaning over and grasping his hand.
And that was how I ended up as a caretaker to a very cranky, very sick, one Mr. Harry Potter.
Author's Note: And here is the prologue of my new story! Not going to be a happy one, but I'm hoping it will be good nonetheless. Thank you so much to my beta, potter-reading-coastie for all his help with this one. Let me know what you guys think :)