9. Never a Normal Life
Weeks into her new schooling system, Poppy still didn't feel close to settling into normalcy. Every day was one in which she entered the classroom as a newcomer to sit with classmates that, while at about the same place or even behind her in muggle subjects, knew so much more about the magical world. How Daisy had just dropped right into all of this, Poppy wished she knew. She wished she could adjust faster like she should have been. She'd learned everything else faster than her sister. Even Charlie's immense storage of random magical trivia did nothing but make her feel just slightly out of place.
Cass was the closest thing to normal Poppy had. When she first thought this, Cass laughed out loud from his desk. Poppy looked over at him.
"What?"
He covered his mouth as if surprised he'd laughed out loud. "It's nothing. Just something in the book."
The book in question was about the history of Europe, and the page in question described the start of World War I.
He looked down at the pages, grimaced and continued. "Not this page. A typo I found flipping the pages."
If he was lying, Poppy didn't see what the real answer could be. Charlie knew him much better, though, and she was giving him a look that could have gutted an owl.
At lunch time, the three of them sat together in a circle on the ground. The yard they had access to was fenced in with tall wooden slats high enough none of them could peek over. Poppy guessed it was a precaution taken because of the above normal quantity of underaged magicians kept inside an area highly populated with muggles.
Poppy stretched her legs out in the grass, leaning against a tree while she ate her ham and cheese sandwich. She wore jeans and a sky-blue blouse that she'd helped her grandma make. She knew robes were commonly worn at Hogwarts. Daisy had several sets, and they weren't cheap even if they were common. Sometimes, the other kids wore a pair. Charlie was particularly fond of wearing muggle clothes under a cloak to school most days.
"So," Charlie said. "Cass, you should tell Poppy what you were really laughing about."
It had been a lie, then. As long as she could get into the loop of secrets now, she wasn't too bothered by not knowing before.
"I suppose I should," Cass agreed. He used one hand to fiddle with the fingers of the other, watching the movement instead of looking at Poppy. "I didn't mean to keep it from you this long, and I promise I didn't mean to listen. I don't usually, I've gotten pretty good at avoiding it."
"Avoiding what?"
"Your thoughts. Or other people's. Especially Charlie's, her mind is probably more chaotic than Dumbledore's."
Poppy wished she could have caught on more quickly. How could anyone avoid anyone's thoughts? Who was Dumbledore?
Cass sighed, recognizing her confused look. "I'm a legilimens. I can… I guess you'd call it 'mind reading.' That's not what it is exactly, but." he shrugged.
The laugh. He'd been laughing about what she'd been thinking. Oh gosh - no. What in Merlin's name (she was trying her best to incorporate wizard slang, even in her thoughts) had she been thinking?
"So you laughed at what exactly?" She dreaded the answer. It had to be something embarrassing. Like that time when she'd - no, she couldn't think about that, he might hear.
"You thought I was the most normal thing in your new non-muggle life. Kind of ironic, don't you think?"
"I guess." The humor in it was lost on her, Poppy's only thoughts being of relief that he hadn't been reacting to anything particularly private. Even though everything she thought was private, it was her own head. She put her head to her scalp, as if touching it would somehow conceal it from everyone else. Recognizing how ridiculous that was, she disguised the gesture by pulling back a few stray strands of hair.
Cass and Charlie watched her think for a while, each using the break in conversation to take a few bites of their food.
"So, what'll it take to make all of this normal for you?" Charlie asked.
Time, Poppy guessed. Nothing else could do it. She didn't say it to the others, though. Instead, she said, "More knowledge, maybe. Having friends would probably help."
"You do have friends," Cass blurted. "If you want them, that is. I understand if you don't want to, now that you know, but Charlie's normal. Like I said, she's chaotic, but so are a lot of muggles I think."
"I -" she shouldn't have said that out loud. She couldn't just admit to someone she didn't think of them as friends. Maybe someday she would, but for now, they were just a gateway into a world she desperately wanted more access to.
"Yeah. I do have you two, don't I?"
Cass frowned. Poppy wondered how much he'd snooped around in her feelings, if he knew she was insincere. Charlie didn't look bothered by either of their responses.
"You'll be ahead of other muggleborns because of your year with us, that'll get you knowledge," Charlie said. "Knowledge is overrated, though. Create your own normal. Imagine where you'd be now if you didn't have magic. What would that look like?"
"Pretty bad," Poppy admitted. She'd be in normal muggle school, with her normal muggle classmates. She'd arrive home everyday to be reminded her sister had something Poppy would never be able to gain. She'd probably paint a ton of sad drawings and throw them in the trash because she was angry.
"There you have it," Charlie said. "Whether you like it or not, this will be your new normal, and you'll make it into one you actually like. And we'll be your friends, we've chosen you as one of us now."
The cafe was different. Sometime in the past few years, it had changed owners, changed names, and been renovated. The familiar high tables with initials carved into the grain were gone and replaced by sleek metal surfaces and modern barstools. The location was the same, though. And the door, swinging inwards with a soft jingle when it bumped against the chimes just in front of it.
Anna went up to the counter and made her order: tea and scones. A treat she hadn't bought just for herself in quite some time. She waited for the girl behind the counter to finish preparing everything. Anna guessed she'd be about 18 or 19, around the same age she'd been when she worked there. The uniform had changed. Probably for the best, the old faded green had never struck her as a great color, even though it might have gone well with this girl's dark hair and green eyes.
Anna took a seat in a corner with her drink and waited, never once regretting her choice to arrive early. She could see herself reflected in the window nearest to her: the same long blonde hair as she'd had as a teenager, but with a face that had a few more wrinkles.
From her booth in the corner, Anna could also watch the door. A few students came in, stopping to get a drink and maybe study for a while before they had to go home or get to their own places of work. Then, there she was: Pansy Parkinson.
She'd aged. Of course she had. The last time Anna had seen her, they'd only just come of age. Now Anna had a twelve-year old daughter. Maybe Pansy did as well.
"Anna," Pansy greeted, taking the seat opposite her once she'd picked up her own hot drink. She swept back long dark hair - last time they'd met it had barely passed her chin - and studied Anna's face. For a moment, neither said anything.
"There's a lot you didn't tell me," Anna said.
Pansy dipped her head once. "There's a lot I couldn't tell you. You know that now. The statute of secrecy is inconvenient at times, but it's for the best."
Anna wondered if that was really true, but she said nothing. Whether or not it was a good guideline, it was law. She couldn't blame Pansy for not breaking it for her. She could only blame her now, if she still kept her secrets.
"The mistake you said you'd made, what was it?" Anna referred to an earlier conversation, one had over empty plates while in pajamas, so long before.
"I can't believe you remember that," Pansy said. "I… I suggested handing over Harry Potter to You-know-who."
Dudley had mentioned You-know-who, but in his retelling of Harry's story, he was always named. If Pansy still refused to call him Voldemort, maybe Anna had failed to grasp just how strong his hold had been.
"Maybe it was selfish," Pansy said, and Anna could remember her describing the mistake that way before. "But I just wanted to get out of that place alive. I wanted my friends to live, and You-know-who said that we all would make it if he didn't. It seemed logical: sacrifice one, save the rest, you know? I didn't look at the bigger picture."
Anna wondered how much of Pansy's decision had been about herself and how much had been about her friends. Had those two boys, the tired and arrogant ones who had first used the word "muggle" around her, been included in that friendship. Had Pansy's spouse been there? Anna knew she was married, the ring on her finger said as much.
The glance at the ring didn't go unnoticed.
"Married a few years after," Pansy said, not including who she'd gotten married to. "I've got two kids, adopted. They're both younger than yours is. They'll attend Hogwarts in a few years."
"How did you know about my kids?"
Pansy's eyebrows lifted with surprise. "I didn't. I only knew about the one who was in the news back in June. Daisy, wasn't it?"
"Yes. And Poppy. We think she'll get into Hogwarts as well."
"And to think I went to all that effort to keep you from finding out about magic just for you to find out anyway. Without me."
The last two words stung more than they should have. Pansy disappeared behind her cup of tea, and Anna wondered if she'd ever considered what might have happened if they'd stayed together over the years.
"Thanks for taking the time to catch up with me," Anna said.
Pansy only blinked, her features wrinkling just enough that Anna could recognize the hint of a smile. It was enough of an indicator for Anna. This would not be the last time they met.