The wind howled and shook the tree branches as the rain came down in sheets. Inside a cozy two-story house in the historic district of Sanford, Florida, in an upstairs bedroom, a pixie of a girl was curled up on the window seat. Her golden blonde locks were pulled back into two braids as she watched the raging storm outside. How fitting, she thought, the weather was, as it mirrored her own mood almost perfectly.
Seven days. Seven long days since the accident, since the only parents she'd ever known had been snatched away from her in a fatal car crash. Seven days since she'd spoken a word to anyone. It wasn't for lack of trying on their part – the officers at the scene, the social worker with the Department of Children and Families, and Mrs. Clarke, her new foster mother, had all tried to get something out of the silent ten-year-old other than the occasional tear that peeked out from her eyes. At this point, they didn't care what reaction they got, as long as they got some sort of reaction. But she wouldn't budge.
Lily Anne Wesley was mad.
She was mad at her parents for leaving her all alone. She was mad at the drunk driver who had smashed into them driving 70 mph in a 25 mph zone. She was mad at DCF for sticking her in a foster home. But mostly, Lily was mad at God for once again taking away her parents. He'd taken away her birth parents when she was just a baby – it was his fault that her mother had had to give her up less than a month after she'd been born. And now, he'd taken away the people who had adopted her nearly eleven years ago, who she'd known as her mother and father. John and Clara Wesley, Lily's adoptive parents, were a bit older and had no living relatives able to care for a child, so Lily had been taken into the custody of the State of Florida. DCF had placed her 'temporarily' in the care of Mrs. Dorothy Clarke, a sweet middle-aged woman with four other foster children in her care ranging in age from five to seventeen. They had said temporarily, assuring Lily that she'd soon have new parents, but she knew that was a lie. Who wanted to adopt an almost eleven-year-old? She was two years shy of being a teenager, and nobody wanted to adopt teenagers. They had too much 'baggage' by that time.
Not that Mrs. Clarke was horrible to stay with. She'd done everything she could possibly think of to help ease the transition for Lily, to make her feel more comfortable. And Lily didn't really hate her… just the situation she had been abruptly thrown into.
A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away angrily. She'd told herself she wasn't going to cry – not in front of anyone else, at least. For the past week she'd waited until everyone had gone to sleep at night before finally letting the tears fall silently. If they saw her cry, they'd start hovering over her even more and she just knew that would cause the dam inside her to break and all of the emotions she'd kept pent up recently would come flooding out. The last thing Lily needed right then was to break down.
"Lily Anne…?" A tentative voice drifted up into her room, and she knew Mrs. Clarke was calling to her from downstairs. Lily hated to be called 'Lily Anne' – she felt like she was in trouble when someone used her middle name – but Mrs. Clarke was the epitome of a Southern woman, and it was apparently a Southern thing to be referred to by both names. "Lily Anne, it's time for dinner, sweetie…"
Unable to ignore the rumbling of her stomach, Lily slowly stood and shuffled to the bathroom to splash some water on her face before heading down to spend another meal hiding the pain she felt inside.
o o o o o
He glanced at the modern, middle-class homes on either side of the street. He'd seen the lower- and middle-class homes in London and other parts of the UK, and these buildings didn't resemble those in the slightest. They definitely were far from home, but exactly where, he wasn't sure. "Hermione, where exactly are we?" he asked curiously, taking in his new surroundings.
"Sanford, I believe, is the name of the town."
"Sanford…? I haven't heard of such a town. Where on earth is Sanford?"
"Florida," replied a young woman, as if the revelation that they were in Florida would be no big deal to her companion. She had a gentle smile on her face, her naturally bushy hair pulled back into a single braid. To any onlooker, she appeared to be a 'normal' person, dressed in a cardigan set, clean-cut jeans, and a pair of loafers. Her companion was similarly dressed, a polo shirt and a blazer replacing the cardigan set. But Hermione Granger-Weasley and Remus Lupin were far from what most people would consider 'normal.' They were magic – a witch and a wizard, to be precise, and they were far from Hogwarts, the school Hermione taught at and both had attended in their adolescence. Their journey, orchestrated by Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, had taken them to a small city in the United States, thousands of miles from their homes in the U.K. Remus had been slightly uncomfortable having to dress completely in muggle clothing, but Hermione had reveled in the opportunity, gladly setting aside her robes. They could've worn their robes, but it would have been dreadfully hot, and the last thing they wanted to do was to attract attention to them. As it was, Hermione was already hot in the jeans, but she had to look respectable and somehow she didn't think she could manage that in something shorter. A skirt was out of the question, considering the amount of walking they were doing.
Remus, however, stopped in his tracks. "Wait… You mean to tell me we're in the United States? Not only are we in another country, but we're on a completely different continent?"
Hermione chuckled softly as she stopped, turning to face him. "Don't sound so surprised, Remus. Professor McGonagall did say we'd be traveling quite a ways – that is why we took a portkey instead of the Floo Network or Apparating, after all."
"Hermione, I can't recall ever hearing about an American student at Hogwarts. Letters are sent, of course, but I thought the American witches and wizards typically attended Salem."
She nodded. It was true; in the seven years she'd taught muggle studies at Hogwarts, Hermione had never seen a student there from the United States. American witches and wizards had traditionally attended the Salem Institute of Magic. However, the child they were here to find was not your typical magical child. "I know. But Professor McGonagall told me that this girl isn't American; at least, not by birth. Her parents are both from Britain and attended Hogwarts, but she refused to reveal their identities. From what I gathered, if the wrong people find out about her and she isn't properly protected, her life will be in danger." Nodding her head slightly in the opposite direction, she motioned that they should continue on their journey.
"So, where are we collecting her? Her home?"
The young woman shook her head slightly. "Did the headmistress tell you nothing?"
Remus shook his head 'no' in response. "Only that you were on a mission to come find a child brought up by muggles and that she would fell better if I accompanied you."
"We're picking her up from her school, and I'll fill you in as best as I can while we walk. It shouldn't take more than five more minutes, I believe. The girl's name is Lily Wesley. She'll be eleven next month. Shortly after her birth, Lily was adopted by American muggles, for reasons the headmistress has chosen not to divulge. Last week, however, the family was in an auto accident, and Lily's adoptive parents were killed. She's been in foster care since, so obviously this is already a difficult situation."
"And how are we going to just take this child away without anyone noticing or realizing she's missing? I'm not very skilled with memory charms, Hermione. I'm sure you are, but I figured you'd be the one convincing this poor girl that we're not some kidnappers out to rape or murder her."
Hermione replied rather nonchalantly. "Professor McGonagall already worked that out. Ah, I think that's the school up ahead!" Abandoning the subject of exactly how she was going to pick up this child, Hermione pointed to a campus of sprawled out one-story buildings, all connected by covered walkways. "Jackson Elementary School – yes, that's it."
As Hermione picked up the pace, Remus had to struggle to keep up with her. Really, for a wizard/werewolf in his late forties, Remus was in good shape, but when Hermione got focused on something, it could still be difficult to keep up, both mentally and physically. "You know," he told her casually in-between breaths, "Lily will still be there in five minutes. We don't have to hurry so…"
She just laughed softly, not slowing in the least until they reached the double doors of the front office. Remus, always the gentleman, held the door for her, not entering the building until after she had. Hermione immediately approached the long wraparound desk, smiling congenially at an elderly woman seated on the other side. "Good morning! My name is Hermione Granger and I am here to pick up Lily Wesley." She purposely left off the 'Weasley,' having a feeling it might sound a bit odd to the American muggles. Pulling out a piece of parchment, she handed it to the woman. "This should explain everything."
The woman glanced at the parchment momentarily, her eyes glazing over just briefly, before nodding cheerfully, returning it to Hermione. "Yes, yes. Seems everything is in order. Let me have Lily brought up here." She walked around the desk and down a hallway, leaving Hermione and Remus to wait in her absence. Hermione pocketed the parchment before turning to Remus. "We need to go someplace quiet to talk to Lily, before we travel back home. Just taking her like that would probably scare her to death."
"I take it you have a place in mind?" he asked her knowingly.
She nodded. "I do, in fact. There is a little place similar to the Leaky Cauldron maybe a half of a kilometer from here. I think we'll be able to talk to her there without worrying about who might hear."
A minute later, the older woman returned with a pixie of a girl who was wearing a lavender-colored backpack. The top of her head barely reached Hermione's shoulders, and Hermione wasn't exactly a tall woman. Smiling warmly, Hermione extended a hand to the ten-year-old. "Hi, Lily. My name is Hermione Granger."
Studying Hermione carefully, Lily grasped her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Granger," she replied quietly.
"This gentleman here is my friend, and we've come to take you to your new home. Will you come with us?"
Lily studied the two adults in front of her. The man seemed uncomfortable, and adjusted the waist of his pants a few times. Still, he offered a smile that didn't raise the hairs on the back of her neck. And the woman… Hermione Granger, she'd said her name was… well she didn't make Lily feel all that uncomfortable, either.
However, Lily knew there was much that the two weren't telling her. For starters, Hermione Granger wasn't exactly a common name. For another, neither of them was from the States – Lily would've bet almost anything on that. She had many suspicions, but the front office of her school was hardly the place to voice such suspicions, especially when she didn't know what their ulterior motives were. If her suspicions were correct, however, Lily knew that they could easily force her to go with them, and since she didn't appear to have much of a say in the matter, Lily figured the most logical choice would be to go willingly. At least that way, they wouldn't be aware of her suspicions for a bit longer.
"Okay," she agreed softly, nodding her head as she spoke for the first time in a week. Lily wasn't sure why, but she felt that she actually wanted to talk to them. They certainly weren't from DCF, so she was sure she wasn't about to be shuffled to some other foster home. It intrigued her. And they hadn't tried to get her to talk about her parents, which as far as Lily was concerned was probably the best thing of all. "But what about my stuff at Mrs. Clarke's?" Lily didn't have much there, but what she did have she cherished and she knew she'd break down and lose it if she couldn't bring those things with her.
"We'll take care of that, Lily," Hermione assured her. "In fact, I've talked with Social Services already, and they've sent someone to Mrs. Clarke's home to collect your belongings. We'll go pick those up before we leave. I'm sure you have many questions for us, though, and I'd like to give you the opportunity to ask them before we travel anywhere. There's a little inn down the road that you might've passed by before, and I thought that would be a perfect place for us to chat. Is that all right with you?"
Lily paused again, checking for any hint or subtle body language that would indicate Hermione was lying or leading her on, but she found none. "All right. Is it far?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not far at all. I think it's maybe a ten-minute walk from here. Shall we go, then?"
Nodding once more, Lily adjusted the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and followed the adults out of her school, glancing over her shoulder every minute or two, watching as the school grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Somehow, in some way, she knew she wouldn't be back there again.
o o o o o
Fifteen minutes later, the trio found themselves inside a little hole-in-the-wall place called Merlin's. They found a booth, Hermione choosing to sit next to Remus while Lily took a seat opposite them. Hermione waited until they had ordered lunch before bringing up the subject of why they were there. "All right, Lily. You've been very patient and trusting, so go ahead and ask any questions you have. We'll fill in the blanks from there."
Lily looked at Remus, tilting her head to the side slightly. "I don't know your name…"
He gave her a gentle, friendly smile, and Lily knew instantly that he wasn't going to hurt her. "My name is Remus Lupin."
She nodded slightly to herself. 'Nope,' she thought. 'They're definitely not from the States.' "So where are you and Ms. Granger from? Not Salem, that's for sure."
Remus blinked, clearly surprised and confused at the same time. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, trying to grasp what she'd just said as he glanced at Hermione to find a similar shocked expression on her face. It was highly unlikely that she would be talking about any Salem other than the Salem Institute of Magic located there in the States, but Hermione hadn't hinted in any way that she might know about anything related to magic.
"You're a wizard," Lily told him simply, as if they were discussing the weather. "And you're a witch," she added, nodding at Hermione.
Hermione was the first to recover from her surprise. She smiled at Lily and nodded. "How did you know that, Lily?"
"Well you can't be from Salem," she explained to Hermione, feeling comfortable enough to explain. Finally she was around people who would understand about the 'weird' things that happened when she was especially upset or angry or scared. "Your accents sound British and the likelihood that I'd have two people with British-sounding accents visiting me from Salem didn't seem very high. As for knowing you're a witch and a wizard…" Lily paused to shrug slightly. "Well, that one is easy. You brought me here to Merlin's, which you can't even see unless you're a witch or a wizard or you're with one. And Mr. Lupin looks uncomfortable in his clothes, so I'm guessing he's not accustomed to wearing Muggle clothing. You both are wearing extremely warm clothing, considering the weather, most likely because you needed someplace to hide your wands. I mean, nobody from Florida wears long sleeves or cardigans or jackets when it's 80-something degrees outside."
This time, Hermione chuckled softly. "You're a very clever girl, Lily, and very perceptive. But how is it that you know about witches and wizards? Remus and I were told you wouldn't know anything about it."
"My Aunt Mary was a witch," Lily said, her voice quieting at the memory. Mary Snyder had been her mom's sister and her favorite aunt, and it had just about devastated Lily when she'd been told nearly three years ago that her aunt died suddenly. And now she didn't have her parents either… Lily couldn't suppress the tears that pooled in her eyes, and she sniffled softly. "She's… she's the one who told me about who I am… that I'm a witch, too…"
She watched as Hermione scooted out of the other side of the bench and immediately sat beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. And then it happened. The dam that Lily had worked so hard to keep up for seven long, miserable days finally burst. Without thinking, she buried her face in the Hermione's sweater; not caring that she'd just met the woman.
Lily did something that she'd forced herself not to do since the day her world had crashed around her. She cried.