Willow and Neville found a table near the back of The Three Broomsticks, where Dean, Seamus, and Sam were already laughing over enormous pints of butterbeer. They bought some for themselves from a stunning lady named Madam Rosmerta. Her glittery, festive heels sparkled in the bright lighting of a nearby Christmas tree as she brought them their freshly-brewed butterbeer. Willow clanked her tankard with the boys' and took a sip. Her eyes instantly lit up. Paige was right. The warm, savory, sugary taste was nothing like the bottled kind Fred and George smuggled into the castle. Her entire stomach warmed, and her spirits soared. She licked the foam off her lips and greedily drank half the tankard in a few gulps.
As she guessed, it didn't take long for Fred and George to tail her. They found a table two spots away from her and the Gryffindor boys. Willow gave it two minutes, but Paige never showed up. She furrowed her brow. Had the older girl left? Willow bit her lip, hoping she hadn't ruined Paige's entire Hogsmeade trip. Paige didn't deserve her Holidays to be ruined before she even left Hogwarts. Her family didn't even give her gifts...How could she be so selfish, Willow thought to herself, and not realize her joke was so insensitive? Her mood shifted violently, and even the butterbeer couldn't lift her spirits anymore. Sam noticed and pushed Willow's tankard closer to her.
"Come on, don't look so downcast, it's nearly Christmas!" he whispered. "Drink some more. It will make you happy."
Willow sighed, but complied, taking several more sips of the incredible drink. Sam was right in that it made her happy, but it was still that empty sort of happy, the kind of happiness that someone gets when they know they shouldn't be happy. Willow forced a smile onto her face despite her internal chaos, not wanting to drag down the boys, and watched in silence as they chatted animatedly, their Christmas spirits soaring. She began to lose interest, though, after Seamus wouldn't hush about his supposed Christmas present for his parents. Willow drew circles on the worn mahogany wood with the water droplets sweating off the side of her butterbeer glass.
The Three Broomsticks had a wonderful, cozy sort of ambiance. There was just the right amount of visitors for Willow's taste. A steady trickle of students, staff members, and locals alike populated the simply-decorated pub. Their excited, spirited conversations lifted the mood to a light-hearted chatter. Willow appreciated the fire burning pleasantly in its grate on the opposite side of the pub. Its occasional pop and crackle reminded her of the Gryffindor common room. The furniture was polished wood and harder to sit on than the plush furniture of Gryffindor Tower, but she liked that better, as she personally decorated the Power House with all sorts of wood. She made a mental note to come back here with all her friends next Hogsmeade visit.
Fred and George kept shooting furtive glances in her direction, then looking away the moment they made eye contact. Willow, for her part, watched them with a sad curiosity. They whispered back and forth about this and that, but she could never make out what they were saying, even with her ears enhanced, because the chatter filling the pub was thick enough to block their sound from only two tables away. Every once in a while, their conversation would get animated, then increasingly heated, until they both quickly looked at Willow, then went back to their argument. She couldn't help but wonder why they were so angry. Were that mad at her, at Paige, or at each other? It appeared that Fred and George were merely fighting with each other, but Willow reminded herself that she had no social adeptness and therefore couldn't make a proper guess.
The fact kept gnawing at her, however, that every time George and Paige were in the same place as Willow, they started fighting. She wished they would get over their stupid quarrel- whatever it was- and get back to being friends, because she missed seeing them laughing and pranking with each other. Fred, George, and Paige used to make such an incredible squad that Willow dared to call them a dream team. They used to come up with the greatest schemes together. It was an amazing sight to see them talking animatedly with each other in the corridors, frantically scribbling down ingenious ideas, then combining them to create even better ones. Now, George and Paige practically hated each other. Every time they came within ten meters of each other, they were glaring daggers at the other. What did she do, Willow wondered, to make them feel like that? What had she done wrong?
Willow was briefly interrupted by Dean to give her opinion on a matter of gift-giving, much to the lament of Seamus, and then was allowed to continue staring off into space, as Sam teased her. She watched Fred and George for a few more minutes, wishing they would go find Paige and make up already. A local couple sitting nearby got up and left, releasing just enough sound waves so Willow could hear through the din. She enhanced her hearing and honed in on the Weasley twins' table. She frowned when she was finally able to catch a few snatches of their conversation.
"Running off like she always does...your fault, you know...shouldn't have gone so far..."
"Her fault too, Freddy...shouldn't be playing her like this...messing everything up..."
"All's fair in love and war, George...Has just as much a right as you do...Don't need to be ending friendship for something stupid...should make up with her..."
"She has to make up with me first...Not letting her off that easy..."
Willow suddenly finished her tankard of butterbeer, left a tip for Madam Rosmerta, and shoved her chair into place, leaving The Three Broomsticks. The little bell tinkled in what would have been a friendly goodbye had she been in a better mood. The cold winter wind whipped Willow's face, burning her cheeks and throwing sheets of icy snow onto her robes. Willow drew them tighter around her and marched through the now piling-up snow. The wind howled in her ears, deafening against the silent landscape. She could barely hear the crunching of the snow underfoot as she bounded away from the pub, heart hurting, begging to release all the pain it was harboring. But Willow refused. She'd already let out so much lately; if she let out any more, would the dam burst, never to be repaired?
Willow ran all the way to the edge of the village, then down the sloping path, sliding in the mounds of snow. She skidded across patches of ice and cantered across meadows of pure white. Snow hares fled before her pounding feet. Willow didn't know where she was going or what her plan was; all she knew was that she had to get away from the source of her pain. She ran endlessly into the sheets of white. The cold pierced her robes, turned her fingers white, but she didn't even feel it. All she could feel was the heaviness in her chest; all she could hear was the screaming of the voices in her head among the howling of the wind; all she could see was an endless sea of blinding white, blurring the horizon that led to more nothingness on a barren landscape. She didn't know anything but the ceaseless emotional trauma that held onto her with a firm grip and never seemed to let go.
Finally, Willow collapsed into a pile of snow under a pine tree. She grasped the snow and squeezed it so tight that it melted within her hands. Willow closed her eyes to block out the scene. She shut down her senses so she couldn't hear. She curled up into a ball and let the numbness of the winter cold seep into her very bones. Why did she always have to cause so many problems? Why did she always have to bear everyone else's pain? Why was her own so vast that she couldn't contain it? Willow couldn't feel anything. Tears wouldn't release her emotions because they suddenly weren't there. She was empty. Paige and George were fighting because of her, but she didn't even care anymore. What was the point? She was just going to cause herself more useless negative emotions...
"Willow! Where are you?"
The voice sounded very far off, like it was calling to her from a dream. Willow didn't bother moving. She didn't want to move. All she wanted was to slip into a deep, numb sleep, far from being able to feel anything that was hurting her...
"Willow! Please don't be frozen to death already...I'm not using my fire bombs on you..."
Willow moved her head almost imperceptibly. The voice was much clearer this time. She recognized it...this was someone she knew...and it sounded like a guy. Had someone actually come to look for her? She didn't know why they would...she disappeared all the time and no one batted an eye...
"Willow! Oh, thank Merlin, you're alive!"
Willow's eyes groggily opened to find a familiar redhead running towards her. He kneeled in the snow next to her, turning her over to make sure she wasn't a complete icicle. He touched her hand only to recoil quickly.
"How are you not frostbitten by now? You feel like you've been thrown in a freezer!" he fretted. Willow felt herself being sat up against the pine tree, her body stiff and sore from being coiled in a tight position so long. "Are you okay? Professor McGonagall was worried, you weren't there for the head count, so I came to find you...Merlin, she's going to take away so many points from Gryffindor..."
Willow blinked slowly, finally coming to the realization that George was sitting next to her. She watched his face as he went on and on endlessly about how worried Fred and he had been, how terrified McGonagall was for her, etcetera. She didn't like him being worried. It didn't suit his normally joyful expression. He appeared paler than normal, his brown eyes full of a hidden terror, and his slight freckles disappeared. Willow's mind wouldn't work with her; it wasn't comprehending anything at the current moment. George peeked around their tree and quickly ducked back under.
"The snowfall's getting even heavier now. We're going to get snowed in...I suppose that's okay, I don't feel like walking back up that hill...the wind will die down if the snow piles up high enough, too..."
Willow could do nothing but watch as George talked to himself about possible routes up the side of the mountain, backtracking every few steps because of some ice or a roadblock. He eventually decided that they were going to stay there until the storm passed. George contacted Fred through his name tag, explaining the incident. Willow's eardrums rang with the worried pitch of Fred's voice long after George ended the call. She hated it when they were worried. They were supposed to be happy...she was making them unhappy...
"I guess we're just...waiting here...Can't go out in this storm...are you feeling okay? Of course you're not, that's why you're out here...stuck in this bloody storm..."
Willow was silent for a while, trying to remember how to form words, then mumbled, "I'm okay."
George chuckled, but it wasn't light-hearted as it usually was. "You only have enough strength to say two words, and it's trying to reassure me that you're fine when you're obviously not? Typical." George shook his head, then stared out at the snow, his expression nearly unreadable. "Willow...I'm sorry. We're stuck out here because of me. Fred and I have been talking, and...well, I've been a complete arse. I didn't realize that, but you running out here because of what I've done, possibly freezing yourself to death...that's saying something about me. You don't deserve that. I'm so sorry, Willow."
She looked up at George, his eyes slightly sunken, gravity pulling on his face. She'd never seen him so...defeated. Willow knew that he'd literally just said he was the problem, not her, but something in her still didn't believe him.
"I'm sorry, too...been causing some issues..." she said.
"No, no, I'm not going to let you take the blame this time," George said. "You have nothing to be sorry for. What's happening between Paige and me is purely my being a complete arse, and it's been affecting you in ways I never took the time to imagine. You've done nothing wrong, Willow. I'm admitting that this is my fault for once."
Willow studied George's face, noticing the visible marks of stress on his cheekbones and forehead. "But...I haven't been helping...could have pointed out..."
George shook his head. "No, this is something I should have known myself. Don't blame yourself where there's no room for blame, Willow."
She stared at him for the longest time. Then, her heart warmed, and she finally understood. She wasn't the problem. This was all a huge misunderstanding. George and Paige were going to make up now, and it was going to be okay. Her heart lightened and her body finally released the weight that had been crushing her very bones. Willow took George's hand in her own, which seemed to shock the other boy. She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered.
George leaned his head on Willow's, closing his eyes. "Thank you."
The pair sat there in silence, holding each other's hands in a truce, listening to the storm as it tore across the sky.
As expected, Professor McGonagall was furious with Willow, but simply ordered her straight onto the Hogwarts Express the next day, not wanting to deal out punishment during the Holidays. She'd lucked out for the millionth time, it seemed. McGonagall could be strict, but she was also fairly forgiving, especially towards her own house. Fred and Paige scolded her for running off like that and scaring half the castle that she'd been killed (rumors that Sirius Black had gotten her spread like wildfire). Willow found it entertaining to pronounce her living status to shocked crowds of gossipers that were certain that Black had buried her body in some far-off field. Having inside knowledge on the real whereabouts of the convict was rather fun.
George and she seemed to have grown closer because of his genuine apology. Willow forced him to apologize to Paige in front of both her and Fred, then threatened him if he ever did it again. After Paige left, Fred whispered something to George, then burst with exclamations, saying that he knew it, which left Willow very confused. George was still slapping his twin by the next day on their walk to Hogsmeade Station. Fred and George bade Willow goodbye, and she gave them each a hug, wishing them Happy Holidays. George blushed furiously for some reason (it soon dawned on her that it might have something to do with him fancying her, but she still doubted it) and boarded the Hogwarts Express. Willow grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Paige and Lee joining the both of them in their own compartment. She'd missed seeing them all together.
It was a hassle to get all of her magical creatures loaded up, but Professor McGonagall had unofficially provided her with the invisibility charm via a note on her supply box in the secret room of the Gryffindor Tower, making the trip much smoother. One of her creatures was staying behind, however, with Sirius, just so he wouldn't be lonely over the Holidays. Willow had said her saddened goodbyes to Sirius that morning, leaving Felicity in his care. He'd always wanted to get to know the jobberknoll, so she decided that since she hadn't been able to get him anything for Christmas, Felicity would be his makeshift present. Sirius enjoyed the jobberknoll's silent company. Even though she could tell he was depressed, Sirius still wished her a Happy Christmas, and Willow almost forced him to come home with her. She was going to miss his child-like company over the Holidays.
The Hogwarts Express pulled out of Hogsmeade Station, and soon the countryside became a blur of white. Willow watched through a crack in the caboose as Great Britain's landscape rose and fell ever so gently. The countryside's snow was so pure, so untouched, that Willow imagined a giant had woven a blanket of snow and draped it over the rolling hills. Trees waved at her in the gentle breeze. Herds of cows created blotches of dark brown against the blank canvas of their grazing fields. The cold of December breathed through the tiny gaps of the wooden caboose, but Willow didn't mind. It comforted her during the long journey. Phoebe, of course, didn't appreciate it, and chattered loudly until she covered the silly Demiguise with her extra robes.
Oliver and the majority of her friends joined her during the train ride. At first, they were super talkative, trying to use their last few hours of magical freedom to pour through the closest references to the Hogwarts founders' descendants they could find, but it was no use, and the work was quickly tiring them out. Willow was the only one awake within four hours. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a smile as she watched over her friends. They appeared so peaceful that they were almost angelic in their light-hearted holiday moods. She truly clung onto the hope that this prophecy would find her sooner rather than later, because she couldn't imagine her life without them. Their pure souls were the reason she lived and breathed to this day. She couldn't imagine a better reason to fight against the unfairness of her life than to keep the smiles on their faces, the blush in their cheeks, and their laughter that was always tickling the back of her mind.
At long last, the deafening sound of the train chugging along lessened, and the Hogwarts Express gradually puffed its way into King's Cross Station. Willow shook her friends awake, and they wished her a Happy Christmas, taking turns hugging her. She waved goodbye to all of her friends as they went to their parents, then wished her fellow Gryffindor second years Happy Holidays as well before re-charming her creatures and transporting them to her car with the help of Oliver. Their dad was waiting for them in the parking lot. Willow and Oliver ran up and hugged him, proclaiming how much they'd missed him over the past few months. Carlos chuckled and promised to catch them up as quickly as he could.
The car ride to the mansion, in Willow's opinion, was completed in record time, and before she knew it, she was sprinting into her grandparents' open arms. Oliver was greeted with broad hugs from Tío Cisco and Tío Leonel as well. Perrito ran and jumped into both of their arms, then chased his tail in circles around V, who did not appear delighted to see the crazy chihuahua. Willow and Oliver helped Phoebe, Patch, and Griffin into the greenhouse, then returned to the kitchen, where the scent of pasta and a delicious combination of meats entertained the idea of dinner. Willow and Oliver hastily helped set the table and pour the drinks in hopes of getting to eat even sooner. Less than ten minutes later, the Guerreros were seated at the table, catching up over spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread.
Over the past few months, Abuela and Abuelo had been tag-teaming multiple archaeological excavations revealing much evidence on the history of Charlemagne. They were close to receiving an actual award from the Queen, they were contributing so much research to English history. Carlos had been reassigned to more local jobs, which meant less headaches for him. Tío Cisco and Tío Leonel were back in Japan, examining the movements of a population of Zouwu, a couple of which had taken a liking to their cat toys that Newt Scamander had lent them.
When questioned about their time at Hogwarts, Willow and Oliver answered truthfully that the amount of homework was awful, but it was awesome nonetheless. They left out the bits about Willow almost dying, running off into the Forbidden Forest for a couple months, the prophecy, and other depressing topics. Abuela was disheartened to hear that Hagrid had lost his confidence after Buckbeak's "attack" on Malfoy. Tío Leonel made the comment that he'd heard far too much drawn-out conversation about the hippogriff from Lucius Malfoy when he visited the Ministry a few weeks prior. Tío Cisco had to restrain him on multiple occasions from hexing his mouth shut.
Then, unfortunately, the topic of Grace Fawley came around. Willow didn't dare to even think of that horrid woman as her mother anymore. Carlos was spying on the Fawley mansion through some of the magical creatures he took care of, and some of them had reported groups of shadowy figures showing up at her doorstep in no particular regiment of time. Grace was on the move. Death Eaters, former, currently-in-hiding, and new joiners were meeting with her for unknown reasons. The Smith twins' mum, Molly, was now living full-time in the Fawley mansion. Willow's blood boiled to know that the woman who had called Oliver such a filthy name and scarred Sally and Sam for life was being housed by the woman who had once known her love. She grasped her locket, staring at the photo of Grace. She had to stop remembering them as the same person; her mum was the happy, fun-loving woman in the photo of her childhood; Grace was the new persona poisoning, twisting, and disfiguring the form that once was her mum. Willow didn't love Grace Fawley. She never had.
After dinner, the darkness of night had settled, and both Willow and Oliver were already exhausted. They pitched in to do the dishes but collapsed on the couch soon afterwards. Tío Cisco and Tío Leonel laughed at their defeated forms and carried them up the stairs to their bedrooms. Tío Leonel kissed her goodnight on the forehead, shutting off the lights. Despite her exhaustion, it took a while for Willow to fall asleep. Her mind was still racing from their conversation at dinner. She resorted to looking out at the night sky to settle her mind. Watching the twinkling stars outside her snow-covered window, Willow finally drifted off to sleep, wondering if Sirius was watching the same night sky. She hoped he would at least enjoy her letters that Iris was already carrying to him.
Christmas morning came in no time, and Willow had never been more excited. She squealed with delight at each and every gift she opened. There were soccer cleats, a brand-new, state-of-the-art soccer ball, some fancy wooden fountain pens, and a beautifully designed notebook for her. For Oliver, there were plants galore, a newly-released herbology book written by the leading witches and wizards in the field, and lots of fuzzy jackets (from Abuela, of course). Willow's heart warmed when she realized this was Oliver's first Christmas where he actually received presents since he lost his parents. It was sad, of course, but she was over-the-moon excited to finally reclaim all those happy memories with him that he should have had over the past several years. They broke in all their gifts, ate mounds of food for brunch (much to Abuela's delight), and accidentally took a nap in the greenhouse, all before midday.
It was the middle of the afternoon by the time the siblings finally woke up. They gave Griffin extra treats that Tío Leonel had specially baked for the griffin. Phoebe was jealous, of course, and smashed a banana in Willow's face, leaving Oliver untouched, as she always did. Willow swore the demiguise favoured the Hufflepuff. She cleaned herself off and tossed Phoebe a candied apple to make her happy. They made their way into the living room after that, grabbing a totally healthy snack of white and milk chocolate truffles, and casually talked about what they hoped to eat for Christmas dinner.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw the fire pit change colours. She raised her eyebrows at the green hue that replaced the former dark orange flames. It dawned on her after a few moments that the Floo network was being accessed. Grabbing Oliver, she quickly danced out of the way just as a figure came tumbling out, landing in a pile of soot on her living room floor. The figure coughed and spluttered, waving enough soot out of her face to reveal who it was: Paige. Oliver and Willow looked at each other in surprise, then helped her to her feet, brushing off the excess ash from her shirt.
"Paige, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be- ?" Willow began.
"No time to explain," Paige interrupted. "Got to go."
"Wait, but you just got here, why do we need to go?" Oliver asked.
"Snuck into parents' office again- found a letter- been hiding it- " Paige ran out of air and was forced to stop and take a breath. Willow noticed for the first time the stress marks on her forehead. "My nana's in trouble."
"What?" Oliver said.
Willow's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"
"I sent her a letter before school started, letting her know how I was, what had happened since she'd left, things in general, and I asked her to send word on what she's been up to lately. Well, my parents obviously confiscated the letter, but she sent one back, and it wasn't good. It was short and choppy. Her handwriting was all messed up, and I've read enough of her grocery lists when I was younger to know that her handwriting is normally pristine. She said something about in hiding, under attack, isn't safe to correspond, but she's living near her previous address. The worst part is, the letter was dated to three days ago. That means she's still not safe!"
Willow gasped. "We've got to help her!"
"What if someone's already gotten her, though, and we're running right into their hands?" Oliver pointed out. "We won't be much help if we get stuck in a trap, too."
Paige brandished her wand. "I'd like to see them try to come between me and the only adult that's ever loved me in my life."
Oliver raised his eyebrows. "Nevermind. We're safe. It's not breaking the Statue of Secrecy if we're defending ourselves, right?"
"I'll fight those useless politicians until they can't stand my whining anymore if that's what it comes to," Willow said. "We might be saving a life here, and Paige's nana is basically her only family. Family's family. Oliver, do you want to stay here, or are you coming?"
"I'm not much backup, but I'll try."
Willow ran upstairs to grab hers and Oliver's wands, throwing Oliver his when she jogged back into the living room. Paige stared at her with a mixture of gratitude and gnawing terror.
"Look, I don't want to get you into any trouble with your parents, they're going to kill me if I get you hurt- " Paige began.
"Paige, how many times have I almost gotten myself killed?" Willow asked. Paige paused in thought for a moment, then conceded the point. "Exactly. This won't be any different. They know there's no point in trying to rein in my stupidity. Let me be an idiot and hopefully manage to pull off a Christmas miracle."
Paige sighed. "Thank you. Let's get going before your grandma comes barging in."
Willow, Paige, and Oliver all grabbed handfuls of Floo powder. The two Guerreros looked to Paige for the place, and with a single word each, they were whisked off to yet another ash-covered fireplace. They tumbled out of the grate, wheezing from accidental dust inhalation. When they'd regained their bearings, they took in the place around them, marveling at how old the structure was. Photographs and paintings from all eras decorated the dark-wooded walls. Paige's nana had taste. Willow wished she had more time to stop and take in each decoration, but Paige's nana was in trouble, and that took priority. The three of them quietly tiptoed out of the house, leaving no trace behind except the ashes strewn across the hardwood floors.
Willow found her ears assaulted by the honking of nearby cars. Paige's nana had lived on a busy street. Bumper-to-bumper traffic lined the roadway, even on Christmas Day. She had to tune down her senses to nearly block all sound out to get rid of the ear-splitting screech of worn brakes, the blaring of a hundred impatient drivers, and an unsatisfying combination of classical and pop music blasting from several opposing speakers. Paige thankfully led Willow and Oliver away from the street, instead crossing a nearby tall-grassed field that came up to their chests. Willow watched with concern as the older girl searched desperately for any sign of her nana. She'd never seen Paige so stressed out, so openly cracking, so passively breaking down her outer defenses. It shouldn't be like this, Willow thought. Paige should have been allowed to live with her nana from the moment her parents fired her, but she'd been subjected to the worst example of parenting instead. The thought of all the happy times Paige could have enjoyed broke Willow's heart and filled her with a new determination to find and rescue Paige's nana.
After ten minutes of walking, Paige appeared so stressed that Willow was worried she would shatter. But just when she was beginning to lose all hope, something caught all of their attention. A single, dirtied, weathered ribbon, so worn it was barely a few threads held together by pure chance, was tied around a nearby tree trunk. Paige rushed over to it and undid the knot, frantically examining it. A paper fluttered out of the intact strings. She caught it, almost crushing it in the process, and began to read the scribbled words, face breaking into a relieved smile.
"Oh my God, she's okay, she's okay," Paige said. "She wrote, 'Pumpkin season over, time for the Holiday pines.' My code name when I was little was Pumpkin Patch. I don't know exactly what it means, but I recognize this fabric, and she obviously wanted me to find this. Holiday pines...she's probably moved towards the pine forests. She always wanted a house next to one."
Albeit very confused, Willow and Oliver followed a now-excited Paige further through the grassy fields, the old house Paige's nana had previously lived in disappearing behind them altogether. It was another twenty minutes of walking before the tall, skinny trees indicative of a pine forest rose before them. Willow's heart sped up. Was this a trap? Were they really going to find Paige's nana? What if she'd already been captured? Or, worse, what if she'd been assassinated?
Willow blinked in surprise at herself. Why the heck was she freaking out? There was nothing for her to fear. All she had to do was stay on her guard, and they'd be fine. Oliver wasn't even nervous yet. He was always the first one to question a situation. If he was fine, all was good with the world. But Willow couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off as they approached the pine forest, dead nettles lining the ground where brush and vegetation should have grown. She did, after all, have a sixth sense that came with her powers. Were they being set off by the tiniest of warnings? Was that why she was nervous?
Willow shook her head. Focus. I've got to focus now, she reminded herself as a building rose before their very eyes. Paige led them closer and closer to it. When her eyes finally honed in on the structure, Willow realized it was a log cabin. It appeared to be very newly constructed. The majority of the wood was so glossy that Willow questioned if they'd been polished only hours before. There were no holes in the roof, the windows were pristine, and the front door still smelled of fresh paint as they moved downwind of the house. Willow raised her eyebrows at Oliver, but he only shrugged, passing a silent message. The cabin appeared safe enough. Some people have funny tastes, right?
Paige wasn't fazed by the odd appearance of the log cabin. Without skipping a beat, she marched straight up the wooden front steps, found no doorbell, and rapped on the door three separate, but solid, times. Willow and Oliver crept up the steps behind her, eyes peeled for any movement between the trees. Even with her senses reactivated, Willow sensed nothing. Her heart leapt into her mouth when footsteps suddenly echoed from inside. A light flickered on in the hallway, and a shadow moved across it, halting and suspicious. Willow's heart beat against her ribs. She could tell Oliver felt the same. There was a heavy footfall on the other side of the door. Paige stood stoically, though a bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face, defying the freezing, snowy weather. The door creaked, and a pair of eyes peered at them. Butterflies scattered within Willow's stomach. Were they about to be blasted off the face of the Earth? Before she could even consider the possibilities, the door swung open, revealing the person on the other side.
"Nana," Paige whispered.
A rather large woman filled the door frame. She froze when she saw Paige standing on her front porch. Her face paled as she audibly sucked in a breath, then slowly put her hand to her mouth. "Paige...? Is that- is this really you?"
Paige barely held back tears, nodding her head. "Yes, it's really me. It's Pumpkin Patch."
The woman let out a laugh, salt water pooling in her eyes. She cupped Paige's chin with her hands. "I can't believe it. It's really you. It's- you're really here, after all these years."
Paige smiled. "I never left."
Tears cascaded down the woman's face, and she wrapped Paige in a fierce hug. The older girl hugged back just as tightly, hardly containing her emotions as she let out years' worth of pain, suffering, and longing. Willow instantly knew that this was the woman Paige had been talking about. She was pleasantly plump, ruddy of face, and kind-eyed, exactly as Paige had described her. The woman's frame was wide enough the envelop Paige's. Willow couldn't help the bright grin that spread across her face. This sun dress-wearing woman, after spending so many years apart from Paige, still cared about her like she was her own child. Willow heard a sniffling next to her and saw Oliver crying happy tears, too. She wrapped her am around him, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. After a few moments, both Paige and her nana pulled away at arm's length, beaming at each other with a happiness Willow had never seen anywhere else in the world.
"Oh, it's been far too long," Paige's nana sniffed. She wiped her eyes on her shoulder. "I got your letter. I thought I'd never hear from you again, after your parents sent me off. Then your words came, and I- " She gasped, eyes widening. "Come inside, quickly, before you're seen! I don't want anything to happen to you either!"
Herding them inside, Paige's nana shut the door behind them, locking it with a series of bolts. She corralled them into the living room and sat them down on the couch, shutting the curtains. Willow and Oliver glanced at each other in confusion. What was going on that this woman was being watched?
"Nana, what- ?" Paige began.
"Listen, I've got limited time to explain, and then you must be off," Paige's nana insisted. She grabbed something out of her pocket, and without pausing or warning them beforehand, levitated a tray of tea towards them- with a wand. All three gaped at her. Paige's nana...was a witch? The woman grinned at their confused expressions.
"Tea?" she offered.
"What- you never told me you could do magic!" Paige exclaimed. "That would explain a lot, though, now that I think about it! Why didn't you tell me? Did you know I was a witch?"
Paige's nana shook her head, a twinkle in her eyes. "I knew all along, Pumpkin. It was a terrible secret to keep. All those fun times we could have had, messing with your- dare I call them parents?"
"I definitely don't call them that anymore," Paige snorted.
A look of pure loathing passed over Paige's nana's face, then the disgusted expression passed, exchanging itself for a neutral one. "Whatever happened is in the past. Now, I need to explain to you the current situation. Your past is not as simple as it seems, as is mine. You weren't an orphan, Paige. You had a mother. I...I knew her."
Paige raised her eyebrows. "You're serious?"
"Yes...she was my sister."
Paige gripped her teacup so hard that it shattered with a crack! that made Oliver yelp. Willow's heart stopped. Paige gaped at her nana, hands shaking, hardly daring to believe what she heard.
"You can't be serious. There's no way."
Paige's nana took her niece's hand into her own, making an effort to compose herself. "It's true, Sweetheart. I'm you aunt. My name is Deandra, and our last name is Terrell. Your mother's name was Audelia. She was the most incredible sister I ever could have asked for. She was kind, she was brave, she was empathetic beyond belief...I wish I had more time with her. You would have loved her. She had the most beautiful laugh of anyone I'd ever heard. The sound was purer than an untouched waterfall...purer than spring water atop an undiscovered mountain...I can still hear it in the back of my head, even now. I loved making her laugh."
Oliver was crying again. Deandra got up and got him a tissue, which he accepted gratefully. Willow rubbed his back, her heart simultaneously reaching for Paige, and also going out to Oliver, for whom the conversation topic must have been painful.
"Anyway, your mother and I attended Hogwarts together. We were both in Slytherin, but we always tended to hang out with the Hufflepuffs. It wasn't long after we graduated that your mother fell in love. She got married, and within a year, she had you. I'd never been prouder. Audelia named me your godmother immediately, and I accepted, honored. I only wish I could have protected you more from what happened next."
Paige's face had lost much of its colouring. Willow waited, fearing the worst. She allowed Oliver to squeeze her hand.
"You see, our family has a special secret, Paige, and it goes back for several generations...it's a very deep secret, so deep, in fact, that we went into hiding centuries ago. We've integrated into society with almost complete success. Unfortunately, in the last few decades, something went wrong. We've been hunted by a group of people who have been our rivals since the beginnings of our family name. You're not a pureblood, Paige, if that's what you're wondering," Deandra said, upon seeing her niece's darkening expression. "We're of all types of mixed blood, Muggle and magical alike. You're safe from pureblood mania for the time being."
"But...what's the secret?" Paige asked. "What's so terrible that you had to go underground?"
Deandra swallowed. "I can't tell you, Pumpkin. If I do, you and your friends will be in unspeakable danger. If someone from that wretched family gets a hold of you, and finds that information...I hardly dare to imagine the consequences. No, you're safer if you don't know. All you do need to know is that there is more magical power running through your veins than you could dream of. You're a special breed of witch, Paige, and I hope you take that to heart, because you might need it in the near future."
Willow, Paige, and Oliver shared confused expressions as Deandra got up to peek out the blinds, her face drawn out with anxiety. She sat back down, fingers still wrapped tightly around her wand.
"Well...you never finished telling me about my mum," Paige said, changing the subject.
Deandra stared at her niece for a long time, eyes clouded. At length, she sat back, sighing. "I suppose you deserve the truth, no matter how painful it is. Very well...your mum, her husband, and I were in hiding, as you know. It was very similar to the Potters. We moved to an obscure town on the outskirts of England and attempted to create a new image of ourselves, one no one could possibly connect to our old selves. But we were betrayed by our own contentment. We became complacent. Before we knew it, the- that family had found us, and...we were outnumbered."
Deandra wiped her eyes with a tissue. "I wasn't nearly as good at dueling as your mother and her husband. She- she placed you in my arms, kissed you on the forehead, and told me to run. She told me to run as far as I possibly could. I didn't even get to hug her goodbye. She jumped right into the middle of the fighting, and I hid as she fought them." Deandra blew her nose. "Your mother was so brave, Paige. You should have seen the way she held them off. They came at her, and she shot them down in droves, all with a single curse. But while she was the carrier of unbelievable power, her husband was not, and he was soon hit with the Killing Curse. You would have trembled to see the power that she wielded after that painful loss. A wave of pure agony was thrown from her, and it leveled the house. I apparated out of there just in time to save you."
Paige had a tear trailing down the side of her face. Deandra took her hand once more, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "She sacrificed herself for you...and for me. Life was never the same after that. My father- your grandfather- came to visit me, but it was only for a brief time, and then we were forced to go our separate ways and disappear. I was being followed, and I knew I had to find somewhere so deep into the Muggle world that they would never find me. That's why you ended up where you did, Paige. Your 'parents' were so nasty, so cruel, so undeniably the worst possible scum of the Muggle world that I could possibly find, that we would never be traced there. We were finally safe.
"But I was wrong. You were safe from the wizarding world, but the Muggle world was beating you into the ground. I never imagined those horrid people would hurt you so much. I can never forgive myself for the torment I put you through. Then, I got fired, and I couldn't be there for you anymore...That day was the hardest day of my life, only second to the day I lost your mother. I had to leave you, all alone, with those horrible people. I wasn't there to protect you anymore. I've- " Deandra paused, sniffling- "I've failed to be a good godmother. I'm so sorry, Paige. I wanted so badly to come back, but I had to go on the run again. I've been chased all across England. It's no excuse, though, and I will never be able to make it up to you. I'm sorry."
Paige's lip trembled. "It's not your fault. I haven't talked to them in years. I spend my time away from them now, and I've never forgotten you. I forgive you, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you better accept it."
Another tear rolled down Deandra's cheek as she let out a laugh. "You're still as stubborn as the day I left you."
"And you're still as incredible as ever."
Willow's mind felt fuzzy with the emotional gravity of the situation. So Paige did have parents that cared, but they'd sacrificed themselves, and her nana was actually her aunt, but she was being chased all across the country. It couldn't have been any more confusing than her own past, but something was still bothering Willow. It wasn't the fact that Deandra wasn't telling them why Paige's family had this phenomenal magical power. It wasn't even the question of what they were being chased down for. It was something else...
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think you'll find my question important," Willow said. Paige, Deandra, and Oliver all looked at her expectantly, making Willow's voice catch in her throat. "Um...well...who's chasing you down, exactly? Am I allowed to know their family name?"
"Oh, you can know that part, but only if I remember the exact name...let's see...they're one of the sacred twenty-eight..."
"Is it the Malfoys?" Oliver suddenly gasped, his voice pitched.
"No, thank goodness, they'd be a nasty lot to contend with...I think it starts with an F...oh, yes, that's what it is, the Fawleys."
Willow sucked in a sharp breath. "What did you say?"
"The family chasing after us is the Fawleys, I'm sure of it," Deandra said. She furrowed her brow. "Why? Do you know them?"
Willow's blood ran cold. Her heart stopped. She was suddenly aware of the intensity of everyone's stares. They burned through her, seeming to pry open her very soul and spill out its secrets. Her chest tightened, and Willow could feel her pulse quickening. Oliver gently touched her arm, but she jerked it away, standing bolt upright as she did so.
"You must be joking," she whispered.
"No, I'm afraid this is no laughing matter," Deandra said gravely. She stood up and walked closer to Willow, peering into the younger girl's eyes. "Are you alright, Dear? You seem to be losing your colour rather fast. When's the last time you ate something?"
"I'm...I'm fine," Willow wheezed. She shakily took a few steps towards the wall, her left arm gripping the wooden beams for support. Her childhood came flooding back to her. The heirlooms in the family room...the trophies they'd hung up on the walls...the corridors dedicated to battles won against entire families...
"Willow, are you sure you're okay?" Oliver questioned.
"Yeah," Willow panted, gasping for air.
Her mum's face was swimming in front of her. Then, it was her grandfather's, then every single relative from the Fawley side was invading her space, pointing at her and shrieking that she was too weak to uphold the family legacy, crushing her beneath the weight of their cackling, laughing mercilessly at her failure. Her mum had always told her the Fawley heirlooms were rightfully stolen back from an evil family that had done them wrong centuries prior. Willow's airways suddenly closed off. If she had known...she could have stopped them...she could have stolen back what was rightfully Paige's...
"Willow, you're not okay," Paige said, her brown eyes gazing directly into Willow's. "What's wrong? And don't tell me you're fine, because you're not, and there's nothing you can say or do to convince me- "
"Stop!" Willow pleaded, falling to her knees. She covered her ears as the prophecy invaded it once more. She squeezed her eyes shut, barely managing to drown out the ocean of noise, but only bringing back the memories of the Fawley mansion in a more powerful fashion than before. Sickening images came harpooning into her brain, locking into her mind's eye with relentless ferocity, refusing to let go. Willow curled into a fetal position, pain racking her entire frame.
"Willow? Hey, Willow, come back to me," Paige said, her voice echoing strangely in Willow's ears. "Focus on my voice. Come back to me."
Willow reached out to Paige's voice within her head. It was like trying to grasp for a life raft twelve feet below the surface. Paige's voice came in whispery strands, varying in louds and softs. Willow focused in hard until she could clearly hear Paige's voice. She gripped onto its soft, low melody for dear life. The life raft was within reach. She wrapped her arms around it, desperately begging for it to take her back to the surface. She was pulled through the water, up and up and up, getting so close to the top- and there was Paige, waiting for her. The older girl was kneeling beside her, combing her fingers through Willow's hair.
"You're okay, Willow, you're here," Paige said.
"I'm okay," Willow said, her voice hoarse. She coughed. "Wait- just kidding, no I'm not."
"Do you need anything, Dear?" Deandra asked, her blurry face finally focusing.
"No, I'm fine," Willow sighed, sitting up. She wiped the cold sweat off her forehead and stood up before Oliver and Paige could accidentally crowd her. "I'm fine."
"You just said you weren't," Oliver fretted.
"The former statement is probably true, but that's beside the point," Willow said.
"What was that all about? Do you know the Fawley family?" Deandra asked. Willow flinched, which softened the older woman's gaze. "I'm sorry if it upsets you, but this is crucial information. We could all be in danger if you are in connection to that name."
Willow nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. I just...uh...have a lot of bad memories with them. You see, my name is Willow Guerrero, but I used to be Willow...Fawley."
Paige and Deandra stared at her as if she'd turned them to stone. Willow took a shuddering breath. "Look, I don't associate with those elitist pieces of crap anymore, but I- I can't help but feel awful that I was a part of the family that tore yours apart. Paige- all those times I walked through that mansion- all those times I should have known something bad was going on- all those priceless family pieces I could have given back to you- and I didn't. I'm sorry."
Paige looked as if she could have slapped Willow, but not out of anger. "Willow, you have to be the dumbest human being alive. You were nine when you last saw your mother. How were you supposed to understand what was going on, let alone get away with stealing things from your own- well, former family? I can't blame you for that."
"You're not a Fawley, trust me," Deandra reassured her. "You'd be dead if you were. I've put multiple spells around this house."
"Oh, how comforting," Willow chortled sarcastically. "Thank you, though, that means a lot."
Oliver wrinkled his nose next to her. "Sorry to change the subject, but do you smell that?"
Paige, Willow, and Deandra sniffed the air, suddenly tensing. Gasoline. What was someone doing with gasoline in the middle of a pine for- OH MY GOD, THAT IS NOT GOOD, CODE RED!
"Something's going to explode, isn't it?" Paige said.
Willow heard a flick out of the furthest edge of her hearing range. Her heart spiked.
"EVERYONE GET DOWN!"
Willow jumped on Paige and Deandra as she screamed, pulling Oliver down by the wrist. She transformed into a dragon just as the biggest explosion she'd ever heard in her life burst the back end of the log cabin. Willow's wings sprouted in the fraction of a second before the fireball consumed the spot where they were laying. Even in her fire-loving form, the heat burned through her scales and viciously nipped at the skin underneath. Willow closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Oliver, Paige, and Deandra struggled under her weight, the latter nearly passing out from the shock of her transformation, but she had to keep them safe. The fire tore through the house, incinerated timbers, and blew apart furniture, but still Willow held on.
Just a few more seconds, it's almost over- hang on- just a little longer- breathe- you can do it- NOW!
The worst of the maelstrom blew over, and Willow suddenly flung herself out the nearest window, the other three in tow. She hit the ground and grunted in pain as some of the glass dug into her scales. It was only moments before her strength was sapped, and she found herself laying on the ground, cut up and burnt from her previous form being unable to handle the onslaught. Oliver managed to scramble to his feet in record time and dragged the three of them behind the building, his eyes wide and terrified.
"Are we going to die? Please tell me we're not going to die!" he cried.
"We're not going to die!" Paige shouted, stumbling to her feet. "Come on, nana, we've got to move!"
But Deandra didn't move. Her eyes were locked on Willow, mouth slightly parted. Paige kneeled on front of her aunt, eyes on fire, adrenaline already rushing through her system.
"Look, I know it's a shock. It was a shock to me the first time she did it, too! But you have to get over it! We're going to die if you don't get off your arse and help us, and right now! I know that you're still blaming yourself, but damn it, this is a perfect moment to redeem yourself in your own mind, so move!"
That seemed to do the trick. With a hard blink, Deandra shot to her feet, whipping her wand out of her pocket. She huddled the teenagers behind her.
"Stay back, and don't move a muscle until I say."
Willow's, Oliver's, and Paige's mouths dropped to the floor within seconds. With a simple flick of her wand, Deandra created a barrier around them, one of intense, electrifying, rainbow-shimmering light. She leveled her own house with a spell. She threw up stone barriers with another. The forest itself shifted around them. Trees creaked and heaved onto the forest floor. Branches rained down around them in their own storm. Some of the Fawley family began to show up, but most stumbled back in fear. Deandra was in the eye of her own hurricane, the nucleus of her own world, the center of her own universe. Paige and Willow both looked at each other in absolute awe. Was this really the same power that was flowing through Paige's veins?
"If you think this is cool, wait until you see what your grandfather can do," Deandra chuckled, obviously pleased with herself.
The moment, however great a respite in the intense situation, was brief. The Fawleys regained their former steely will and advanced on their position. Willow recognized far too many of them- former uncles, grandmothers, cousins, and even her crazy aunt. Unfortunately, they recognized her, too, and were even more infuriated than before. Oliver gripped her hand, his other barely hanging onto his wand with trembling fingers. Willow squeezed his hand in support, but didn't hesitate to draw her wand, leveling it at her grandfather, who aimed his own wand directly at her chest. She swallowed the waves of fear coursing through her system. She had to stay calm. Deandra would protect them, even if things went sideways. She had to overcome her fear.
But that was a difficult thing to do, considering the amount of witches and wizards periodically apparating behind the front line of Fawleys. Willow's heart leapt into her mouth at the sheer amount of extended family members showing up to the scene. What was wrong with Grace's family? Did they not possess the ability to love others? Whatever it was, Willow didn't know, because Deandra drew her, Oliver, and Paige into a tighter circle behind her. She eyed up her opponents, an odd light illuminating her dark brown irises. What was she thinking about?
"Paige, there's something you need to hear," Deandra said. "You're extremely gifted, blessed with an extraordinary power like mine. Use it. Don't hide it from the world. Whenever you can, let your true colours show, and tell everyone out there exactly who Paige Terrell is."
"Nana, what- ?"
"You have to go," Deandra interrupted, sadness welling up in her eyes. "I can't let you see this, for better or for worse. You must leave. They'll be after you, now that they know who you are."
Paige's face drained of all colour. "Nana, no, I won't let you do this! I'm staying with you- !"
"Paige, no! I won't let them get a hold of you, not here, not now, not ever! I'm still responsible for your well-being, until the very last breath leaves my body!"
"Nana, I'm not leaving you here- !"
"You have to go!" Deandra yelled. "It's the only way to save your life!"
Paige stared at her, at a loss for words, grief overwhelming her. A single tear trailed down her nana's cheek. Deandra drew her niece into a fierce hug. Paige didn't hesitate to return the gesture, knowing that what her aunt was saying was right, but refusing to believe it at the same time. The Fawleys began to hack away at their barrier with dark curses and hexes. With great difficulty, Deandra held them off, looking at Oliver as she did so.
"You're a Hufflepuff, are you not?" she asked. Oliver nodded. "Take care of Paige for me. Don't let her lie to you about how she's doing; you'll be able to tell better than anyone."
"I will," Oliver said thickly, choked up with tears.
Deandra finally turned to Willow, her face red with the effort of keeping the Fawleys at bay. Willow's heart began to chip away at itself. Before she could say anything, though, Deandra shushed her.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. Be proud of your Guerrero heritage, and forget the Fawley side. You've done nothing wrong. A child born into a troubled family is at no fault of its own."
Willow was now struggling to keep her emotions from bursting forth. Deandra hugged her, somehow comforting Willow and giving her strength all at once. As the older woman pulled away, however, she whispered something in Willow's ear.
"I believe in you, War Child. Go do right in this terrible world."
Willow was then shoved back with Paige and Oliver, and amid their cries for her to wait, Deandra tearfully aimed her wand at them and fired off a spell.
Willow closed her eyes to guard them against a blinding flash of light, then opened them. When the light subsided, she realized she was back in her own living room, right next to the fireplace where they'd began their journey. Paige and Oliver were right there with her. Willow stared at her arm for a second, hardly believing that they'd just been across England, but the cuts were real, the burns were real, and Deandra's last words were still ringing in her mind. That was real. Everything was real. Her former family...was the reason Paige had been abandoned. They were the cause of every second of suffering Paige had ever felt. And she used to be a part of that family. Willow's stomach churned, sick with the reminder that Fawley blood ran through her veins. She felt like she was going to throw up.
"Paige?" Oliver croaked, drawing Willow's attention back to the present. "Paige?"
The older girl was staring at her wand. She was still panting softly, her eyes wide. Willow watched her intently.
"Paige...you okay?"
Paige slowly sunk to the floor, her frame suddenly small, defeated. Willow carefully kneeled next to her. When Paige didn't react, Willow wrapped her arms around the older girl. Paige then buried her face in Willow's shoulder, gripping her tightly for support as she struggled not to sob. Willow's heart broke. She stroked Paige's hair, a single thought bruising her heart as Paige battled with her agony.
How much more can we lose?