A/N: What's up, witches? How are you all doing today? I wanna thank all the comments; you guys truly are the best! I'm still correcting the previous chapters, so if you notice any misspelling and stuff, let me know. If you're interested, you can check out my Instagram, at jillklein dot ff. I'm participating Yantarnii's Inktober, so you can see a bit of Athena's life. I think I'll continue to draw, even after the challenge is over. Anyway, I hope you're liking the story! I can't wait to start writing Year 5. Things are so interesting! I still don't quite know how to introduce all the new characters, but I'll do my best. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

Chapter Two – Law Affairs

This time his suit is green and he's wearing a red fedora hat. I have spent long months without seeing the serious face of Gunnar Keeling, but grandpa doesn't seem surprised when he shows up by our door.

"Come in, Mr. Keeling," he says. "May I take your coat? It's really hot in here."

"Indeed," the wizard lawyer says, entering our house with a briefcase under his arm.

This time, they don't go straight to my grandfather's office; instead, we all sit together at the dining table, which is already set with steaming hot tea and a tray of different types of biscuits.

Mr. Keeling grabs a biscuit and eats it before he even starts speaking. He then opens the briefcase and grabs a bunch of papers and files.

"Mr. Hodges is not cooperating," he says. "He and his fiancée are willing to fight for Miss Lockhart's custody."

I choke with my tea, spilling it all over my dress. Holly quickly brings me a napkin.

"I beg your pardon?" grandma says, sounding very offended. "Did you say fiancée?"

"Yes, yes," he says. "Mr. Hodges and Miss Skeeter are currently engaged and they are very determined that Miss Lockhart will soon join them in their new house in London."

"But," I find myself to be completely speechless. "But the house in Sunderland... I thought he wanted it."

"Apparently Miss Skeeter managed to change his mind," Mr. Keeling crinkles the corners of his eyes in a not so comforting smile. "Yet, the house is to be sold and the amount divided between you and your father."

"And my brother!" I exclaim.

"Due to the circumstances regarding your brother's whereabouts, the amount will be divided between you and your father only," he explains.

I growl, hiding my face on my hands.

"What about Annette's belongings?" grandma asks. "Everything that is still in Sunderland..."

"According to," he says, grabbing another paper. "this authorization signed by Mr. Hodges, you have the right to collect your daughter's belongings until the end of August, when the house will finally be transferred to its new owner."

He grabs a bunch of other files and a quill.

"I have the documents regarding the house sale," he says. "You are to receive an amount of 25.500 galleons for your share, Miss Lockhart. However, Mr. Hodges agreed to enhance this value to a total of 35.000 galleons if you submissively agree to move in with him and Miss Skeeter."

It is automatic.

I look at Mr. Keeling with complete perplexity.

And then I start to laugh.

"Unbelievable," I say, still laughing. "Well. Tell my father I'm obliged to refuse his offer."

"Very well, then," Mr. Keeling shrugs. "So, please sign he-"

The doorbell ringing makes us all turn heads. From the large windows we can see a woman waiting by the doorstep. Holly races to open the door and the stranger speaks in a firm voice.

"I'm Angelique Woods," she says. "I'm here to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart."

Holly leads her till the table we're gathered and I can take a better look at her.

She's shorter than me, but she's wearing very high heels and a pretty burgundy tailleur. Her short bob hair frames her very pretty face flawlessly and she places an auburn lock behind her ear.

"Mr. Keeling," she says, opening a dark pink lipstick smile. "Good you're here."

She's completely different than Mr. Keeling; mainly because she speaks way more firmly and isn't afraid to be somewhat rude. Her polished fingers run quickly over the many files, documents and contracts brought by Mr. Keeling and then she grabs a very fancy quill and scratches a bunch of paragraphs with bright red ink.

"Mr. Hodges is clearly delusional if he thinks we'll accept this kind of contract," she says, sipping a cup of tea. "He may use as many different words he can, but we all know that 'willingly', 'submissively' and 'kindly' only mean that Miss Lockhart will be at their mercy."

"I thought I knew Christopher," grandma sighs and grandpa caresses her back. "He and Annette have been married ever since they left school. I would have never imagined he was capable of such things."

"We never know who we're dealing with, Mrs. Lockhart, until they screw everything up," Angelique says. "That's why my motto is 'guilty till proven otherwise'."

The morning seems to take forever to end, slowly crawling while we discuss my father's affair, Rita Skeeter's addition to his will and my brother's permanent removal from it... but everything seems to get a little harder when we begin to discuss my custody.

"Apparently, Mr. Hodges parents are unwilling to testify about Miss Lockhart's time in their residence," Angelique says. "According to them, they have never received the visit of their witch granddaughter."

Grandpa opens his mouth to protest, but Angelique makes a gesture for him not to speak.

"However, a team of experts were sent to their residence in Plymouth and there were found many evidences of Miss Lockhart's time with them. Hair strands, fingerprints... So their allegations are already jeopardized."

"Will there be the need for us to go to trial?" grandma asks.

"Only if Mr. Hodges doesn't cooperate," Angelique says. "But we'll fight hard for this. However, correct me if I'm wrong Mr. Keeling, your father has requested a meeting with you, Miss Lockhart."

"Indeed," Mr. Keeling says. "Nothing formal. He just wants to see you before your return to Hogwarts. On August 22nd, if possible."

He hands me a very simply letter handwritten by my father.

"And if I deny it?" I say, entwining my fingers over the table.

"Miss Lockhart, it is your very life that is at stake right now," Angelique explains. "I understand you'll have certain... teenage and immature inclinations for your actions, but if you don't take this seriously, your grandparents will hardly be granted your custody. Do not make things harder with your father. Just talk to him. Your conversation, even if it ends badly, will always be something to be used in our favor. But try to put your feelings aside when you talk to him. Be formal, direct and very succinct. Do not give him any more material. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I say, feeling awfully nauseated.

After a few more explanations, they finish their teas, put their papers inside their respective briefcases and leave to the summer air. I, on the other hand, return to my bedroom, crawl onto my bed and allow my teenage immature feelings to take control of me for a while.

My father's letter burn in my hands, but I haven't read it yet. I feel dirty just by touching the parchment, imagining Rita Skeeter's fingerprints all over it. Holly enters my bedroom with a concerned face and hands me a cup full of some herbal tea.

"It has belladonna in it," she says. "Your grandmother said it will help you relax."

"Thanks, Holly," I say, sitting on my bed and drinking a bit of the tea.

"Do you... want to talk... about your father?" she asks and my eyes immediately start to water.

"I'm just... tired," I sigh. "I don't want to see him... but I feel like I don't have a choice."

"Perhaps... it won't be that bad," she says. "People make mistakes, dear. Your father may be regretting his... or not. The only way to find out is if you talk to him."

"I just feel like I don't even know him anymore," I say, a single tear falling down my cheek.

"Maybe that's the issue," Holly holds my hands between hers. "Maybe you don't really know him. The father you knew and loved could've been simply one of his many layers. Sometimes we only see what we want to see. Perhaps the perfect relationship you thought he and your mother had, wasn't so perfect after all. But your kind and young eyes saw only a flawless looking life."

I don't know details about Holly's old life with the Clements, but she seems to have a lot of knowledge and wisdom regarding these life aspects.

"Go talk to your father," she says. "Know him a little better and come out with your own conclusions."

She reaches out and dries my stubborn tear, leaving me by myself again. I crash over the bed, holding my father's letter against my heart, still not sure about how I should be feeling.

Am I really being childish and immature about all this? Was it expected that after everything I've been through, I was supposed to just run into my father's arms and forgive him?

I finish my tea and head to my desk, slowly opening the letter, feeling terribly sick.

Athena,

I'd like for us to have a conversation. If possible, meet me at the Leaky Cauldron on August 22nd, at 10 o'clock.

I'll be waiting.

Your father.

This is evidence or material or whatever expression Miss Woods used, but I feel greatly inclined to burn it.

Just three sentences. Words so cold and so empty that they do not show any of the family attachment we used to have. It's like I'm less than nothing to him, now that he has happily replaced everything for Miss Tabloid-Skeeter.

I look at the calendar pinned to my cork board and realize August 22nd is coming near. I'll probably enjoy the day to also buy my new school books and supplies before finally meeting with my executioner. My hand flies to my quill and I begin addressing letters to all my friends, asking if they'd like to meet me on the 22nd after my reunion with my father.

God knows how much I'll need them.


My grandparents don't seem very thrilled to take me to London to see my dad. Grandpa put on his best unfriendly face and made sure to get there early for a drink with the bartender.

"For Merlin's sake, Sebastian, is 9 a.m.!" grandma scolded, but grandpa ignored her.

I stopped by Gringotts to withdraw some money and the first thing I did with it was to buy a huge sundae and stuff my mouth with it. I'm heading back to the bar when someone grabs me by the belt loop of my jeans.

"Where do you think you're going?" Barnaby says, opening a big smile and stealing the cherry from my sundae.

"Hey!" I say, feeling my cheeks burn when I notice he seems to be a bit taller, stronger and tanner than the last time I saw him.

He bites the cherry in a very teasing way and winks at me. It takes a lot of self-control not to melt right in front of him. I'm still now sure what the hell it's going on with me and the imminent conversation with my father kinda kills the buzz between us.

"I'll go talk to my dad," I say, blushing. "I'll see you later."

"I'll walk you there," he says with a crooked smile.

Oh my goodness…

I have to wait for a while until my father gets to the Leaky Cauldron. A quick look in my watch makes me aware that it's still 9:55, so he's not technically late.

"And then he said," I hear grandpa telling the bartender. "Merpeople and centaur romance? Why not?"

And they burst into laughter while grandma ignores them and drinks a cup of tea. I sit with Barnaby in a table on the corner and he buys me a wizard soda called Spider Cider and its color is almost fluorescent green.

I'm almost finishing my sundae when my father arrives, accompanied by a whimsical Rita Skeeter. Even from the corner of the room, I can see the huge ring on her finger.

My father walks to me, but Rita Skeeter goes directly to my grandparents. I don't get to see their reaction to her presence, because my father blocks my view.

"Athena," he says. "I'm glad you came."

"I'll wait for you in the bookstore," Barnaby says, leaving with a smile.

"Who was that?" my father asks, sitting in front of me. "Your boyfriend?"

Weirdly, I don't feel my cheeks flushing, because I care less about what my father thinks about Barnaby.

"No," I answer. "Just a friend."

Be formal.

Be brief.

Be cool.

"How have you been?" he asks and I look straight into his eyes, trying to project indifference.

"Very well, thank you," I say, but I do not answer back.

"Listen, Athena," he says. "I want you to come live with me. With us."

I look at Rita Skeeter and her bright red outfit and realize my grandparents don't look happy at all to be talking to her.

"Forgive me," I say. "But I'm already installed in Lockhart Gardens. It would be counterproductive to move again."

"Rita thinks it would be good for us," he says. "As a family."

I release a snort, but quickly put on my indifference face again.

"Rita thinks," I say. "You don't."

"I will not pretend that your reckless adventures at school didn't… preoccupied me," he sighs. "Especially after your mother died."

I entwine my fingers over the table, staring at my acid green soda.

"I won't stand between Rita and you," I say. "I'm perfectly happy living with grandpa and grandma."

"Athena, don't be stubborn," he says, annoyed.

"I'm not," I continue. "I just want you to understand that there's nothing for me here."

"But Rita was so excited with the idea of you helping her choose the wedding dress."

"Wedding... dress?" I lose my breath. "Dad... mum has just died... and you're ready to marry your lover?"

"Rita is not my lover," he says, sharply. "She's my fiancée and your soon to be stepmom."

"And yet, you're putting her above me," I say. "I'm sorry, but I do not hold any interest in living in your love nest or helping her get a wedding dress. If you cared for me, only a tiny bit, you'd let me be."

"Athena…"

"We have nothing more to discuss, dad," I say, getting up.

He sighs and grabs a little sack from his robes' pocket.

"Here," he says. "At least let me contribute with something."

"I don't need your money," I say, coldly.

"I know," he says. "Your mother left you a pretty good inheritance. However, I still wanna be a part of your life. While you're still my little girl at least," he pushes the sack in my direction. "Please."

I unwillingly grab the sack and stick it inside my bag.

"Christopher," grandpa says, coming to us. "So long no see."

"Yes," my father says. "Ever since you invaded my house."

My grandfather rolls his eyes and sits on the chair I just stood up from.

"We have a lot to talk about, apparently," grandpa says and it sounds like a good time to go back to Diagon Alley.

I head to the back alley with a piercing pain in my heart. It takes a while for me to draw my wand and touch the bricks on the wall, because I'm still fighting the tears.

Teenager or not…

Immature or not...

It still hurts.