Disclaimer: J. K Rowling owns all things Harry Potter, except new characters I've developed. As I stated prior to Chapter 1, this is my first fiction in many years. Please read and review. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2 – The Muggle
Elizabeth decided that she would not return to teaching Social Studies in the fall. She was at a point in her life where she had to change now or just forget about changing. All her life she had done what had been expected of her. She had cared for her widowed mother (who was uncommonly critical of everything she ever did), had gone into teaching like her mother had wanted, always did the socially acceptable, predictable things. But in her mind, she longed for freedom.
Her mother and older brother, Jeff, had died recently in an automobile accident. Now she had to go through her mother's things and clear out Jeff's apartment. She decided that Jeff's apartment needed to be cleared out first, as there was a new tenant waiting for it. She had found multiple excuses not to do that up to now, but it couldn't be put off any longer. It was getting close to the end of the month. Elizabeth decided to go through the clothes first. Most things would be given to charity, but she decided to keep a couple of sweaters she had bought for him ages ago. She couldn't believe that he had kept them all this time. They were a bit threadbare in the elbows, but as she pulled one on, she felt wrapped in the warmth of his love, comforted for the first time since she had been told of the accident. She remembered it as though it were just happening. There was a knock on her door very late in the evening. When she opened it, two police officers, both with dolmen faces, were standing there.
"Are you Elizabeth Brandon? I'm Officer Perry of the New Orleans Police Department. This is Officer Davilier. May we come in?"
"Of course, Officers. Is there a problem?"
"You had better sit down, ma'am. I'm sorry, Miss Brandon, but we have some very bad news. Your mother and brother were involved in an automobile accident earlier. We came as soon as we knew who to contact"
"Where are they, Are they alright? What happened?"
"Your brother was driving. From what the witnesses said, with the rain and all he must not have seen the pothole in the street until it was too late. They say he tried to swerve away from it, but he apparently hit a slick spot and lost control. Look, is there someone we can call to be with you? "
"Are they okay? Where are they?"
"The car went into Bayou St. John. They couldn't get them out in time. I'm so sorry. They're both gone."
From that point Elizabeth was in a fog until after the funeral. She had little memory of anything until she was standing next to the family crypt in Greenwood Cemetery. She remembered feeling absolutely devastated over Jeff, but conflicted over her mother. She had never been close to her-- Olivia had never allowed her to be. Elizabeth grieved that now she would never know why. Why had her mother been so distant from her children? On the other hand, she felt extreme relief that she wouldn't hear the constant criticism, the oppressing dictates on what to do in every aspect of her life.
Suddenly Elizabeth realized she was parked in front of Jeff's apartment. She dreaded going in but knew it had to be done. The apartment had been furnished when Jeff moved in, so she only had to go through his personal effects. The clothes took no time. All were bagged up to go to charity. The stacks of business and personal papers would be the time consuming job. As she sorted through them, she was surprised at how few were of any importance. Then she found a box in the very back of the bedroom closet. When she opened it, she couldn't hold the tears back any longer. There were a couple of scarves she had crocheted for him when she was a teenager, along with a sweater she had bought for him with her first real paycheck after she finished college. Then there were cards for various holidays and birthdays she had sent him. Finally, she saw an envelope with her name on it. She hesitantly opened it and unfolded the pages.
.
Dear Lizard:
If you're reading this, it means I'm dead. Actually, I'm not dead now, 'cause if I was I sure wouldn't be writing this, would I? Seriously, I'm writing this now for the occasion, whenever it happens. I want you to go to the bank and take everything out of my account. You're listed on the account as co-owner. Take the money, get away from Mother ASAP. If not, you'll never have a life as long as mother is alive. She never could control me, but she knew how to push all of your buttons after Dad died. She knows how to hurt you – and she will at every chance. I can't see letting her make your life a living hell. Between your salary and savings and the money I've squirreled away, you don't need her or her house. Take the money and run!
Look, I don't know if any if this means anything, but you should know in case it's important someday. When we were little kids, Mom suddenly broke off from her family, but I don't know why. I asked Dad about it, but he advised me not to bring it up. He said he had broached the subject a few times and Mom went ballistic. Not long before he died, he told me to protect you. He said you had abilities that mother envied, and that you might one day be in danger because of them. I have an idea from things I overheard, but never told you because I didn't want to upset you. I tried to search some things out, but I kept running into brick walls. Keep looking. I believe it's important and may help you. Keep searching her family tree. Who knows what will fall or fly out of it! I personally always believed she was part witch (sub any other letter you wish). There was something Mom and Dad fought about—sending you to some school in England and letting you stay with some of her relatives during holidays. Some school named Warthog or Hog's Warts—something weird like that. She went totally ape against that. Maybe there's something about her family you should know.
Just remember that I love you and will always be with you.
--Jeff
She finished reading the letter and became lost in thought. She remembered overhearing her mother and father arguing not long before he died of a heart attack. It was the summer before her tenth birthday.
"Olivia, the child should be sent to a school where she can develop her abilities! Why won't you let her go?"
"I won't have her embarrassing me there! Besides, they don't teach anything that she really needs to know. I went to a regular school and I've done just fine. Besides, we can't afford to ship her off to a private school in England, and I won't allow my family to pay for it."
The argument became heated and Elizabeth remembered hearing her mother say, "If you tell her anything about this, I will disappear and take her so far away, you'll never find her in your lifetime! You know I can disappear very easily!" Shortly afterward, they realized she was listening and stopped the discussion. When her father left for work, her mother grabbed her and beat the daylights out of her for "eavesdropping." .
Elizabeth suddenly snapped back to the present. She had to finish clearing things out. Everything was packed and the box from the closet would go with her. AS she brought the stuff down to her mini-van, she dreaded starting on the real work, sorting out her mother's things. "Lord knows what's in there," she thought. She hadn't been allowed in her mother's bedroom since her father died. "Oh, well. Off to face the Dragon!"
As she sorted through her mother's things, Elizabeth wondered why her mother had been so cold and cruel. Every day of Elizabeth's life after her dad's death had been spent hearing how plain and inept she was. Nothing ever satisfied her mother. Every day she was told to quit dreaming and face reality—she was plain and ordinary and only plain and ordinary things happen to people like her. She was discouraged from reading fairy tales, and especially stories about witches, wizards, or magic. If it wasn't real, it wasn't worth reading. As her Mother coldly stated, "If you kiss a toad, it won't turn into a primcr. You'll just get warts and look even worse."
As she reached the bottom of a stack of clothes in the underwear drawer, she spyed a tiny silver key. Elizabeth wondered what it went to. The jewelry box on the dresser didn't have a lock. She put the key into her pocket and continued sorting the clothes in the dresser. When that was done she went to the closet. Clearing out her mother's clothes was simple—if it was wearable, it went to charity. She chuckled to herself as she thought, "I hope meanness isn't contagious!" She then climbed up on a stepstool and started clearing off the shelf in the top of the closet. Toward the very back, behind everything, there was a small wooden chest with a tiny silver padlock through a tiny hasp. She wondered if the key she found earlier would fit. She reached into her pocket and took the key out. "Yes," she thought, "it looks like it belongs to that lock." Sure enough, when she tried the key, the lock opened. She removed the lock, unhooked the hasp, and opened the chest. There was a stack of letters in there, but she didn't understand what they were talking about, nor did she know any of the people who had written them. After a while, she realized there was a common theme—something about witches and wizards. Someone in one letter called Jeff a "squib," whatever that was! This all seemed really weird, considering her mother refused to discuss that particular subject. She had emphatically stated more than once that there was no such thing as magic. More than one of the letters had said that her brother was a "squib," but that Elizabeth may have inherited the "gift." They implored her mother to send her to a school of magic, if not where most of the family had gone, at least to one in the States nearer to their home. Finally, she found a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, signed by the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The letter stated that she had been on the admission list since birth, as had many generations of her family before they emigrated from Britain to America. He implored her mother to allow her to start her first year the fall she reached her eleventh birthday. "If you want to reject what you are and your magical abilities, so be it, but at least allow your daughter to choose for herself. I believe she may have great potential."
Was that why her parents had been arguing that day? Now she knew who might be able to answer all of her questions about her mother and her family. She would write to this Professor Dumbledore and ask the questions that had been running through her mind. After completing the letter, she realized that she didn't have a complete address for the school. She checked the internet, but found nothing there. Curious! She decided to go to the library to see if she could find something on Hogwarts there. She grabbed her purse, her keys and the letter and left. As she walked to her van, she noticed an owl sitting on the mailbox. That was strange—seeing an owl in the daytime. She put the purse and letter on the hood and unlocked the driver's side door. All of a sudden the owl flew over, grabbed the letter in his talons and flew away!
"That's it, I've had it for today! I simply cannot take any more!" Elizabeth went back inside, fixed a blender full of Pink Squirrels, and started drinking. She thought as she cried herself to sleep, "Scarlett O'Hara was right. 'Tomorrow is another day.' And if I'm lucky, it will have some semblance of normality!"
A/N: Please be patient with the setup. I promise more of the HP characters in the next chapter.
Chapter 1 has been edited to change Draco's wife's name to agree with JKR canon. Many thanks to Xx.siriusly.lily.xX for catching that error, and for the encouraging review and technical assistance.
Please read and review. I have a basic outline in my mind for this story, but I'm open to suggestions. Thanks to all.
