Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1 / The Discovery

Bonnie Ward hesitated on the path. She was nervous. The address was unfamiliar, and she knew she really shouldn't have acknowledged it, yet she had followed the directions and now stood outside a grim building. She still had the letter in her bag, for reference, in case they weren't expecting her. Or maybe it was all a joke. She began to move backwards, but stopped herself. She needed to do this, there must've been a reason why she got the letter.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Bonnie moved towards the inky black door, gently lifting the silver knocker. It landed with a heavy thud. Bonnie held her breath. The door opened to reveal an old, frail man dressed in dark robes with slanted eyes and a slight frown.

"Yes?" he asked. His voice was deep and raspy.

"I'm Bonnie," muttered Bonnie, wringing her hands. "Bonnie Ward."

The man smiled slightly. "Ah, yes. We've been expecting you. Please, come in." He ushered her in, and Bonnie found herself staring in awe at the delicate interior of the mansion. She followed the man up a steep, ebony staircase that was very dimly lit. Eventually they opened a door to reveal a heavy-set woman in an elegant dress reclining on a leather armchair. The man sat beside her and gestured for Bonnie to take the chair across from them.

"Bonnie Ward," the woman said. She smiled. "My name is Doreen Whitehorn. This is my husband, Terrence. We've been waiting for your arrival."

Bonnie frowned. "Um, thank you, miss. But I wanted to know, how do you know me?"

"First of all, call me Doreen," insisted Doreen. "And, to answer your question, we happen to be close to your parents, Leo and Heather Ward. And so, after many years, we heard about you and thought it would be lovely to meet up with you."

"Alright," said Bonnie slowly, still unnerved. "But how come my parents don't know I'm here? The letter insisted that I was not to tell them."

"Oh, that." Doreen pursed her lips and exchanged a look with Terrence, who shrugged. "You see, they have a slight, well, grudge against us for something that happened a long time ago."

"Oh," whispered Bonnie. She gripped her seat. "So they don't want me here."

"That's partly the case," admitted Terrence. "But, Bonnie, you must understand that we never hurt your parents. We wouldn't dream of it. But there was an argument and it never quite got...resolved."

"Enough of that," interjected Doreen. She handed Bonnie a cup of steaming hot liquid. "Here, try this. Don't worry, dear, it's just warm Butterbeer." Seeing the look of confusion on Bonnie's face, Doreen became still. "Surely you know what that is, don't you?"

Bonnie shook her head. "No, mi—Doreen. I'm sorry." She sipped the liquid, feeling the warmth of it soothe her throat and fill her with a glowing feeling.

"Doreen, a word, please," said Terrence heavily. Doreen nodded, smiled at Bonnie, and they both left the room, shutting the door behind them. Bonnie bit her lip. Why did these people leave her just because she said she'd never tried a drink before? Did it mean something?

Whilst Doreen and Terrence were out, Bonnie took to exploring the room, careful not to make any noise. The walls, now she looked, were painted charcoal gray, paintings of snobby-looking people in fancy attire staring out from golden frames. The room was in fact rather bare, but at the far end was a dresser. Bonnie hesitantly made her way forward, opening the top drawer. It was filled with what appeared to be torn newspaper articles. But what really shocked Bonnie, was that the pictures appeared to be moving. On one, there was a cloaked figure, hand pointing up, amidst a pile of dead bodies. He began to turn, and Bonnie hurriedly closed the drawer, her heart pounding.

She began to hear footsteps so she raced to her seat, breathlessly sipping her drink.

"Sorry we took so long," announced Doreen, entering the room with her husband trailing behind.

"It's no trouble at all," chirped Bonnie, smiling at them.

Doreen sat herself down. "We have something we'd like to talk to you about." Bonnie's palms began sweating; did they know she was snooping? Doreen continued, "You seemed very surprised by Butterbeer, yet it is a common wizard drink."

Wizard? What was she talking about? "Wizards aren't real," said Bonnie calmly.

"Oh but they very much are," insisted Terrence, a slight twinkle in his eye. "And surely you must know this, since you know, your parents are magical and all."

"What?" Bonnie was sure this was some sort of trick. Her parents, magical? She was normal, completely normal, so were her parents. Wizards just weren't real. Bonnie set her drink down.

"Now wait a moment," said Doreen, standing up. "Honey, you're a witch. So is your mother. Why are you acting so surprised by this news?"

"Because it's not true," retorted Bonnie hotly. She stood as well. "I don't who you are, but clearly this is wrong, so I'm leaving now. You're just strangers. And you're lying to me."

"We're not lying, Bonnie," said Terrence, but it was no use, for Bonnie left the room, her feet pounding on the stairs. Her palms sweated, her heart pounded, her stomach churned. This was wrong, a lie of some sorts. Why had she come? Obviously they were two crazy old people who wanted her for some reason, probably something sick and twisted.

Bonnie was scared. She was only eleven, she didn't know how to deal with something like this. She wasn't mature enough to fully comprehend what was happening, but she felt an instinct of fear and she followed it because it was all she had. After quite some time of running and weaving through streets, roads and woods, Bonnie came to her house. She climbed up the ivy that crept up the house and crawled through her window. She fell onto her bed, panting and shaking.

The house had given her chills, so she was unsure as to why she'd told herself it would be fine. She should never have entered. No, she should never have gone to it. She should have just ignored the letter and thrown it away. But it was too late. What had happened, had happened, so Bonnie curled up and rocked herself to sleep.

OoOoO

It was a sunny morning and Bonnie yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she slipped her feet into her slippers. Slowly she made her way downstairs, greeting her parents who were both seated at the dinner table, breakfast already laid out. Her dad, Lucian, was reading a newspaper.

"Good morning, darling," said her mum, Elaine, smiling and placing a bowl of porridge on the table. "I hope you slept well. We've got a busy day today, we're planning on going to visit Stephen."

"Okay, mum," answered Bonnie, digging into her breakfast. Her mum smiled and continued with unloading the dishwasher. The silence felt calm and peaceful, yet Bonnie noticed something. There was a feeling in the air, a feeling like something was being held back. Controlled, even.

Suddenly Bonnie was reminded of the previous night. Doreen and Terrence. Wizards, witches, magic. Suddenly the young girl felt a need to bring up the issue with her parents. But it was nonsense, surely. Wizards and witches weren't real. Perhaps it had all just been a dream.

Later that day, on the way to the hospital, Bonnie began to feel a strange feeling. She'd never payed much attention to the discussions her parents had, or what they did, but she noticed they were passing one another worried or nervous glances. Perhaps Bonnie was paranoid, or perhaps her parents were, indeed, hiding something from her.

The car ride felt long and tense. When they finally arrived at the hospital, Bonnie took her usual seat on the right side of Stephen. He was so still, so calm. He had nothing to worry about. He was four years older than Bonnie, yet he looked so very childlike and innocent lying there on the bright white sheets. The machines beeped, constantly, beep beep beep.

"I bought some flowers," said Elaine, placing them on the bedside table. She had turned rather somber in the last few minutes. "Here, Stephen, my darling."

"Mum, what exactly happened?" asked Bonnie quietly. The silence dragged on for a bit.

"Bonnie," sighed Lucian, "sweetie, we've been over this. He went out with some friends, they went to the woods, and he fell. We're lucky he's not dead."

Bonnie was tempted to voice her thoughts, but isn't this worse? Not knowing? Never knowing if he'll die suddenly or if he'll get up, right as rain? Isn't living in constant ignorance worse than just knowing the, admittedly harsh, truth?

"Time's up," grumbled a burly nurse, ushering the Wards out. Bonnie still felt that odd feeling, like a big shadow hovering above her, threatening a downpour but never spilling a drop.

"Bonnie, dear, is everything okay?" asked Elaine gently, pulling her daughter into the kitchen as Lucian continued upstairs to his office. The light was on, illuminating the cosy space.

Bonnie hesitated. "Mum, I need to ask you something." She gulped. "You see, I got a letter from some people, Doreen and Terrence Whitehorn." Something flickered on Elaine's face, but it was gone before Bonnie could figure out what it had been.

"Anyway," continued Bonnie, "so I decided to go, just to see what would happen and they gave me a drink, and it was nice, but strange. It had a weird name, too. Then they seemed to think I was a witch! They said you were too, and that's when I left, because I was sure it was a trick."

There was a moment of silence. Elaine said nothing, her expression stern, her keen green eyes intent on her daughter's face.

Bonnie coughed. "So do you know what's going on? Are they lying?"

"No," murmured Elaine. Bonnie thought she must've heard incorrectly.

"No?" echoed the girl.

"No," said Elaine. She sat down. "No, they weren't lying. You are a witch. So am I. Your father is a wizard."

Bonnie blinked once, twice. She shook her head.

"It's true," said Elaine, fiddling with her skirt. She was trembling. "I'm so sorry we didn't tell you sooner. It's just...we wanted to live a normal life. In the magical world there's just too much danger. We wanted you to be safe, to be normal, to live a life that wouldn't be filled with fear."

"B-but that's not possible," spluttered Bonnie. "That's not possible! I'm human! I'm not a witch!"

"Oh, honey." There were tears in Elaine's eyes. "You are, don't you see? Haven't you done things you haven't been able to explain? Haven't you always been different from your friends?"

~ flashback ~

Squeals filled the air. Lunchtime, at last. Bonnie sat on the ground, drawing on the ground with some old chalk sticks she'd found hidden in a broom closet. Her green eyes followed her hand, transfixed by the motion and the drawing that bloomed from her simple strokes.

"Hey, you!" shouted a kid, running over. He had messy brown hair and was missing his two front teeth. "What are you drawing?"

Bonnie looked up slowly. The boy looked mean. She pointed at the drawing of a flower that stretched out in front of her, keeping her mouth shut.

The boy frowned. "That's boring. Why don't you do normal stuff and play?" He laughed, probably thinking he was somehow amusing. "You're such a freak!" He trod on the chalks, snapping them all into pieces and laughing at Bonnie's horrified expression. He left her there, her eyes watering. She felt sad, but more than that furious. She looked back at her chalks, and was shocked to see that they were whole, as if nothing had ever happened. She told herself she must've imagined it, blinked, but the chalks were still there, whole. It was like magic.

~ end flashback ~

"It still makes no sense," insisted Bonnie, fighting the urge to scream and shout and cry all at once. "I can't be a witch. I'm just normal old me, nothing funny, nothing magical."

"But you are," said Elaine desperately. She ran her hands through her hair, sighing. "Look, darling, I don't expect you to take it all in at once, but please. Listen to me. Take your time to understand this. And here, have this." She handed over a smart and official-looking envelope.

Bonnie took it cautiously, only opening it once she'd made her way into her room, door blocked by her desk chair. She glanced at the address.

Ms B Ward, The bedroom on the third floor, 19 Maple Street, Newcastle, Tyne and Wear.

Curious, Bonnie tore open the enveloped, but not before reading, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So, it was true, she must be a witch. Unless her parents wrote the letter.

Bonnie began to read the letter, letting her eyes fall down the page.

Dear Ms Ward,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Bonnie, still filled with curiosity, turned the page over and continued to read. All the items that she needed...where would she find them? You couldn't go into your local Tesco's and ask for a pewter cauldron. However, Bonnie couldn't dwell on the issue any longer, for she was exhausted from the days events, so she turned off her light and fell asleep almost instantly.