Ravenna stumbled into her small flat, swearing under her breath as her cane caught the bottom of the doorjamb. She shed what was weighing her down—cloak, bag, shoes—as she limped across the threshold, falling into a wooden chair set apart from the green dinette.

The day had been, to put it succinctly, a disaster.

First, Hippocrates Smethwyk had introduced her to what Ravenna would only refer to as it: the cane was wooden, uncomfortable, and simply horrid. With each step, the cane tapped the ground loudly, a constant metronome-reminder of what she would never be able to do again. Secondly, it had taken more than a short conversation to convince Ravenna's parents that she had no need to move in with them. Her mother had of course cried, as well as, in a shocking turn of events—her father. Her father had cried. It was all very confusing for Ravenna, who had to wonder if she was doing the wrong thing, wanting to spend time alone. But in the end, they had understood, and had parted ways at the Leaky Cauldron. And finally, the stares. No matter how hard Ravenna gazed at the ground as she pushed through the crowds of Diagon Alley, it was unbearable. Open mouths. Fingers pointing. Ravenna itched to turn around, to yell, but she had not.

A sharp rapping noise brought Ravenna's head upwards from where it had fallen on the dinette.

"I went to St. Mungo's to visit you today," said a cheery voice, "Dodgy man in a purple hat told me you'd been sent home! Fancy that!"

Framed in the doorway was a slightly pudgy young woman with a round face and a gloriously beautiful smile. Mildred Wyckshire stepped over the welcome mat, clutching a brown paper sack, looking, through the smile, tentative. Ravenna wanted to smile at her very best friend, wanted to rise and give her a hug, wanted to welcome her with open arms. But she hadn't the energy.

Ravenna had met Mildred their first year of Hogwarts. Ravenna, in a lovely turn of events, had tripped on her way to the sorting hat, and Mildred's was the hand that helped her up. The two had been fast friends ever since. Whereas Ravenna was a bit shy and studious, Mildred was outgoing, boisterous, with a penchant for attracting males who were entirely wrong for her. The two were polar opposites, and, even though nearly eleven years had passed since they had left Hogwarts, they were still inseparable.

Mildred's smile faltered a bit as she shuffled into the room, placing the paper sack on the dinette before Ravenna. "Brought you some of that potato soup," she murmured, tapping the package with her wand, causing the paper to melt away and leave a steaming bowl of broth in its place; Mildred worked in a small café at the far end of Diagon Alley that specialized in soup. While the restaurant was known for their crazy concoctions (Ravenna never had the nerve to try the hippogriff beak soup, which may or may not actually have hippogriff beak in it), she preferred to stick to the simple recipes. The soup was her favorite, and yet she had no appetite.

"Thanks, Milly," she replied, pursing her lips in what she hoped was a smile.

It didn't pass. "Talk to me, Ravenna."

Ravenna avoided Mildred's eyes as she shrugged. "What do you want to hear?" she mumbled stubbornly. Instantly, Ravenna regretted it, as Mildred raised one brow. As boisterous as Mildred was, she had a temper to boot, and Ravenna was taking advantage of their friendship. Meeting Mildred's eyes, Ravenna felt herself soften a bit. "I-I'm sorry…"

Mildred interrupted with a flippant wave of the hand. "Come off it. I just want the truth, is all. Daily Prophet was really dodgy. I mean, how do I know what to believe when they claim you go by 'Ravvie?'"

Ravenna grinned. Among things Rita Skeeter had gotten wrong, the nickname was perhaps the funniest. It felt good to share this moment of humor with Mildred, and Ravenna was wondering if she maybe had been wrong about this whole thing. It was possible that she could really do this thing, get past all of it—

"Seems they got the bit about your leg right, though," Mildred stated sadly, glancing downwards.

Ravenna's stomach gave an unhappy lurch. She'd have to get used to the leg before really feeling happy again. "Yeah. I need a cane and everything."

"Have to use it all the time, then?"

Ravenna nodded.

A wicked grin tugged at Mildred's lips. "Well, brilliant. You can beat off all those male callers. Remember Elliot, that duff Slytherin bloke…" The two fell into happy reminiscing, which was a perfect distraction for Ravenna. They were deep into a conversation regarding the time when a first year had tried to interrupt Professor McGonagall's class to deliver a rose to Mildred from some fifth year when a delivery owl flew through the open kitchen window and landed on the dinette. Mildred reached forward ("You've been in the hospital for nearly a month. Least I could do is bring you soup and pay for the Prophet."), and, after the paid owl had departed, disappeared behind the paper.

Ravenna leaned forward. Another envelope had arrived with the paper. Reaching forward, she ripped open the letter and was disheartened to see it was from the Ministry.

FROM THE DESK OF GAWAIN ROBARDS

Dear Ravenna,

Hope this letter finds you in good health. A friend at St. Mungo's has informed me that you are, in fact, in condition to return to work. Therefore, we would be pleased to have you back as soon as possible. Meaning, of course, tomorrow! I understand that you may or may not be prepared to return to an area of work, but I must insist—after all, the state of your inbox is rather frightening. Work can be a good distraction, after all. Try not to worry, though! We're all here for you.

Fondly,

Gawain Robards, Head of Auror Office, Ministry of Magic

P.S. Oh, and please report to me first thing. I'd like a quick word. Cheerio!

Ravenna lowered the letter as several emotions washed over her in a very quick succession. First, she was surprised that Robards had sent her an owl—Robards had never sent her an owl before. In fact, aside from a few curt words with the man, Ravenna never really had what could constituted a conversation with him. She had always been under the impression that Robards had better things to do than deal with an Auror trainee. Secondly, she was angry. Angry that she had to go back to work, where people would ask questions that she did not want to answer. And finally, she was nervous. Why did Robards want to talk to her?

The words we're all here for you, however, were the ones that stood out as she placed the letter back on the dinette. She was oddly touched, regardless of her hectic emotions. Ravenna had never been one to be all chummy with her co-workers. It was unexpected, but… nice.

"So, Fenrir Greyback, huh?"

Mildred's voice caught Ravenna's attention. Frowning at the question, Ravenna nodded.

"How'd you know it was him?"

Ravenna blinked. "Er… well, I saw his face, for one thing. Tends to be how you recognize people, and all…" she said, voice small despite her attempted sarcasm. Mildred's face was confusing to Ravenna, and she noticed that her friend had the Prophet shoved behind her back. "Is there something in the Prophet?"

Mildred's pause was answer enough.

"Give it here, Milly."

"It's nothing, really. Just a bit of rubbish, you know how it is…"

"Mildred."

Mildred blanched like a dog caught sneaking food off of the table, but handed the paper over.

"THEY ARE NOT BACK"

By Arthur Pockings, Ministry Correspondence

Early this afternoon, amid much rumor instigated by a recently published article and the attack on witch Ravenna Gardens, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke at an emergency conference.

"I can say with complete certainty that Fenrir Greyback is safely incarcerated at Azkaban Prison," he stated, speaking to a rather large, rather nervous crowd. "All Ex-Death Eaters and followers of He Who Can Now Be Named either perished in the Battle of Hogwarts, or are incarcerated. We have indisputable proof. They are not back."

This declaration brought forth many questions, namely: Who attacked Ravenna Gardens?

"We have no doubt that Ravenna was attacked by a werewolf. It is possible, however, that in her fear she mistook her attacker for the ex-Death Eater. Fright often distorts the truth."

Another reporter posed the question: What does Ravenna Gardens have to say about this?

"The Ministry has not yet contacted Miss Gardens, but can assure you that, once spoken to, she will realize her error."

CONTINUED ON PAGE NINE

Ravenna didn't turn the page. She didn't want to read the rest. Why would the Ministry say such things? Wide-eyed, she raised her head and saw Mildred watching her. It was Mildred who spoke first.

"I mean, you could have been real scared, and everything…"

"I was scared, Milly. But I'm not—I wasn't—" Ravenna choked on her words, forcing down what likely would have been a dry sob. Recollecting herself, she spoke once more after a minute had passed. "Mildred. You remember those posters? The wanted signs they posted everywhere?"

Mildred nodded.

"Everyone knows what Fenrir Greyback looks like," Ravenna said, her voice shaking with sudden, controlled rage, " I know it was him."

Mildred looked torn. "Maybe—I mean, it's been five years…"

"MILDRED!" shouted Ravenna. Her outburst stunned both her and Mildred, who fell into a shocked silence. Ravenna glanced at her hands. "I'm sorry, but this is rubbish. I mean, I'm not 'Ravvie,' I never said those bleeding things about seeing the sun again or whatever, and it was Fenrir Greyback. They've got it wrong. You yourself said it. The Prophet's dodgy." She choked back another sob. "They've got it wrong."

Mildred nodded, wide-eyed, still slightly stunned at her friend's outburst. Finally, after several moments, she nodded again. "Alright. Well, then let's prove those gormless Ministry gits what's what."

Ravenna was silent, but felt a sudden burst of affection for her dear friend. She nodded back, smiling softly.

"So what're you going to do?"

Good question, Ravenna thought. Glancing sideways, Gawain Robard's letter caught her attention. She faced Mildred once more. "I think I have an idea."

If anyone else is wondering, and if you skipped over this chapter, Ravenna is, in fact, 29. Rita got something right! :)

And thanks for all the comments, everyone. It keeps me writing!