Chapter 38

Plastic Grass

6th February, 1999

She stared at the football field, at the plastic grass and rusty goalposts. It had been months since she'd last walked the thousand yards to here, not since – not since 17th September, the day she learned that Katie was back. At first, she hardly noticed she had stopped coming. Walking had become more and more of a pain, with a baby on the way, and it had seemed natural to spend more and more time locked up in her flat. When Merry had been born, there was so much to do that Alicia could hardly find a moment to sit down and breathe, let alone leave a newborn baby alone for hours while she stared at plastic grass.

That morning, she had woken up with a longing feeling for the football field (or maybe it was just for fresh air), and after having breakfast and feeding Merry she had finally taken out the fold-up wheelchair Katie had given her and had set off, with Merry in her lap. Normally she would have thumped down the stairs and swung down the streets with her crutches, but she wouldn't risk walking with Merry in a carrier around her neck; the lurching movements would probably just make her cry. The Healers kept saying that she had to be careful because her baby had been premature, so don't do this, be careful when you do that, and avoid doing things like this was all she ever heard from them. As a result she was extremely careful.

She stubbornly strapped the crutches underneath the wheelchair anyway, thinking she could walk around the pitch a little when they got there and leave Merry lying on a cloth on the field. And she found that it wasn't entirely disagreeable to roll forward easily and without effort. The wheelchair only required a few discreet wand taps (she made sure no Muggles were around, but even if they were they wouldn't have guessed) to be directed, and though she felt helpless at first, sitting this low, it seemed to fascinate Merry. Her eyes were bright as they tried to focus on everything at once; the graffitied buildings, the pavement, the occasional flower or fire hydrant. When they reached the football field, she let out a delighted gargle as Alicia picked her up, leaned over the side of the wheelchair and painstakingly placed her safely on the ground before balancing on one leg to unfold the cloth she'd brought. She knelt, leaning on her left leg, and placed Merry on top of the cloth.

Then stood up with her crutches and looked around. It had been a long time.

"Hey," a voice said from behind her, "Long time no see, Alicia."

She looked over her shoulder – one did not spin around very quickly when one had crutches – and her eyes widened. She recognised her immediately, even though they had only met once, and months ago at that. The arrogance was a dead give-away; this was the girl who had broken her wrist.

"Candy?"

"It's Candace, actually," said the girl. "Candace Happleton."

"I knew it wasn't your real name. Pleased to meet you... Candace."

"Likewise," Candy said, kneeling on the cloth next to Merry. "Oh, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

"Yes," Alicia said, smiling proudly. "She's three months old. Her name is Merry."

"Merry," Candy repeated, and Alicia could tell from the way she said it that she had got it right. Merry, not Mary. "She's got such lovely eyes."

"Doesn't she?" Alicia agreed.

"Cootchy-cootchy-coo," Candy said, laughing, as she tickled Merry's chin. "I love babies. Who's your father, little girl?"

"He's dead," she said shortly, and Candy pulled up short.

"I'm sorry," she said, after an awkward pause. "How did –"

"The war."

"Did you love him?" Candy asked.

There was no reason for Alicia to answer her. She was little more than a child. She had broken Alicia's wrist. She was rash and reckless and impertinent. And yet...

"Very much," Alicia said softly.

"I'm sorry," Candy said again, taking Merry in her arms. She looked down at her, as though seeing her in a new light. "He must have been very special."

"He was," Alicia said, and felt herself choke up.

She fought it, fought back the tears. She struggled to clear her throat.

"He wasn't perfect," she said thickly. "But he was special. He had a laugh that could light up the entire room. He was brave, funny, and clever. He could turn anything into a joke, and it was always a good one. I was eleven when I met him; he seemed to know so much more than the rest of us. He could be arrogant, he was never scared of anything, and he made us laugh all the time. He had a way of making you feel special just by smiling at you – he made everyone feel special."

She told him about how he had almost been expelled on the third day of his first year for making Moaning Myrtle's toilet explode, and Candy laughed.

"He does sound pretty funny," she admitted. "He must have been a great person."

Alicia smiled, sadly this time. "I think he was. So does everyone he knew. So does his girlfriend."

Candy raised her eyebrows.

"Only I know who the father is," she said, "because only I knew we ever had that moment together. It was never meant to happen. His girlfriend was one of my best friends."

"Was?"

"We sort of... drifted, after the war." Meaning she still found it difficult to look Angelina in the eyes. "But we're mending it."

There was no blame in Candy's eyes, because what did a child know about these things? How could she grasp the extent of Alicia's betrayal? Alicia wondered, inanely, how old Candy was. Up until then, she would have said fourteen, maybe; now, she guessed closer to twelve.

"Why are you alone, then?"

"What?"

"You're dis... you have to use crutches," Candy said, and Alicia heard the unspoken word disabled and flinched. "You have a baby. And you get around my yourself and when you see me – I'm practically a stranger, Alicia – you spill your guts out like you haven't spoken to another human being in years. Even the first time we met... you came here completely alone, just to listen to the birds.

"Alicia, are you lonely?"

Loneliness. Up until then, Alicia would have used the word solitude to describe her situation. It seemed a softer term, less harsh than lonely and more like alone. Hers was a self-imposed exile after all; what right did she have to feel lonely?

Candy changed her tack. "Merry looks a lot like you."

"I know," she said.

"I have a three-year-old brother. Sometimes I babysit him if my parents forget to call for a babysitter. They like to have a breather every now and then. Three-year-olds are very time-consuming. So are newborns. Do you ever hire a babysitter?"

"I'm not exactly rich," Alicia said. "I can pay the rent. I send something to my mother every month. I put some away. I won't pay a babysitter when I can take care of Merry myself. I don't work."

"But you're allowed to have a life outside of taking care of her," Candy insisted. "You could go out, breathe –"

"That's what I'm doing," Alicia said. "We do this all the time."

"Merry seems to like it here."

It was true. The child was smiling (it looked like a smile), gurgling happily as she looked around. Alicia wondered whether she had ever really been outside like this, breathing this air, seeing these colours.

She felt like she'd been sucker-punched. A cold feeling, something like horror, spread throughout her chest as she realised that the answer to that was no. Some of it must have been reflected on her face, because Candy said,

"Babies don't often go out at this age, anyway."

"Yeah..."

She was still shaken. How could it be true? Her daughter, her child, her baby. Merry was the delight of her eyes, the one thing that made this life bearable. She had thought she had been doing the best for her baby...

"Your wrist is okay now?"

"Yes, of course," she said absently. "The Healers fixed it in seconds. Thanks for bringing me to the hospital."

"Well," Candy said, "I did break it, and I am sorry about that, you know. I didn't think you'd react – like that."

Alicia remembered the way she'd recoiled from the broom, as though it were a snake. "I fell. It wasn't really your fault. I was just... surprised."

"Surprised," Candy repeated, cradling Merry in her arms. "Have you flown since the Battle?"

Alicia looked at her. "How could I?"

"I don't know," Candy said, looking down at the gurgling baby. "Not with her around, I suppose. But maybe when she gets a little older –"

"Candy – I mean, Candace –, I can't even walk."

"Flying is nothing like walking," Candy said, and Alicia noticed for the first time that she had brought a broom; it was lying in the grass behind her. "And Candy is fine if you want."

"Careful with that," Alicia said, trying to sound like she was joking as she eyed the broom warily. "You could hurt someone. Or break someone's wrist."

"Or I could fly."

"Or that."

"Or I could start a Quidditch team. My father would like to. He has this idea..."

"He's going to need a lot of money."

Candy looked at her oddly. "I can't fly very well," she said quietly, as Merry babbled in her lap. "My dad bought me this broom, but my school doesn't hold Quidditch matches or offer flying lessons. I sort of taught myself, but I'm not very good."

Alicia wondered where this was going.

"I really like it, though. I know everything about the game; the rules, the fouls, the history, the players. I wish I could be better at the actual flying part of it..." She looked up from Merry, straight at Alicia. "Could you teach me?"

"Teach you?" Alicia repeated. "I'm not –"

"You're good," Candy said. "You were on a professional team. You could tell me what's wrong –"

"I was a reserve," Alicia cut in. "I never actually got to play an official match."

"Only because you got... hurt during the Battle," Candy countered. "If you hadn't, you'd still be flying now, practising hard for some tournament or other."

"I know nothing about you." This seemed the right time to point that out.

"You don't need to," Candy said. "I've never been convicted of a crime and that I'm not an escaped Death Eater, if that's what you mean."

Alicia laughed. "That wasn't exactly my point."

"Well, it's mine. I'm not a danger, and I know you like me; I can tell."

Alicia thought about it, and found that she did. This dark-eyed, arrogant creature had grown on her in only two encounters. And the way she looked at Merry... It could have melted anyone's heart. It certainly did melt Alicia's, maybe because she was the mother.

"And one other thing..." Candy looked up at her, genuine eagerness lighting up her dark eyes. "I could babysit Merry."

She drew in a sharp breath, understand the implications. With Merry under someone else's surveillance – even if only for an hour or two –, she could breathe. Sleep. Walk around. Go out. Do something.

"All right," she said. "Shake on it. And now, let's see you fly."

Candy had not lied. She was not good at flying.

She had an excellent broom, which had probably cost more than a year of rent for Alicia's flat. She was a fan, terribly savvy about celebrities and recent matches and historical facts. She knew the rules by heart and she owned a copy of Quidditch through the Ages that was almost as tattered as Alicia's. But she wasn't very good at the actual flying part of the sport. She seemed nervous, unsure of herself – which could only lead to accidents. She was so tense that Alicia wondered for a moment if Candy wasn't scared of heights,but then she realised it was just a general lack of confidence because of her presence; the first time they'd met, Candy had been flying more easily, unaware that she was being watched.

Now she was a downright catastrophe, a flying (if you could call it flying) disaster. Even her position seemed off.

"Higher, Candy, higher!" she yelled, then glanced down at Merry.

She had been fed thirty minutes ago and was now soundly asleep in her arms, a blanket lovingly wrapped around her. Alicia was worried she would catch cold, but it was unusually warm weather for March, and Merry didn't seem indisposed. At any rate her little chest rose and fell evenly, and her cheeks were rosy with warmth. She whistled a little when she breathed out, and the sound warmed Alicia's heart. Still, she would have to take her home soon. She was just going to stay a little while longer, lying on this plastic grass as the wind ruffled her hair affectionately... Just a little while longer.

She realised, with some wonder, that she was enjoying herself.

See you Saturday for a long-overdue (my feelings) Dramione chapter with some pretty fluff at the end. Thanks to the people who are still Favorite'ing and Alert-ing. And thank you to coleywalks9 who left a nice long review and whom I couldn't contact via PM. :)

What do you think of the new review box? Oo I was stunned when I received in my e-mail "A new comment has been posted to your story." Um, really? What's a comment?

I kinda liked my pop-up review box... Oh well.