AN: Wow, how time flies by. Regulus is turning one year old and everyone's invited to his birthday party. Mrs Miller is still having trouble getting along with some of the guests, particularly those with red or pink hair, but finds herself an unexpected ally. (Standard disclaimer applies.)

I just want to explain something about last chapter if it was unclear. Sirius confirmed that Mr Miller's father was indeed Marius Black (who's the moon crater by the way) by repairing the tapestry with the family tree. In this universe, restoring the person means their branch will grow, which in this case revealed Mr Miller and his family.

And thank you all so so so much for reading this story and leaving feedback. If you leave a review this time, I'll see about getting some of that delicious birthday cake for you. Or failing that, my own humble gratitude. :)


Mrs Miller could not help but smile while she looked down at the invitation in her hand. The thick and expensive parchment, decorated with the crest of the House of Black and a twirling and twisting golden pattern along the edges, was everything she could ever have hoped to see on such a thing. The Blacks definitely knew how to properly invite people over to their parties. The fact that it was handwritten, in a neat script she knew belonged to Mrs Black, only made it better. Perhaps the invitations to her and Mr Black's birthday parties in September and November had been simpler, but they clearly spared no expense when it was time to celebrate their son's first birthday.

Her one reservation about going was that she knew the Weasleys would be present, as usual. But considering they were family as well, though distant, in addition to being good friends to the hosts it was not to wonder at. The way she had understood it, Mrs Potter and her brothers were third cousins to Mr Black. Even Mr Potter could claim a distant relation to the Blacks, though not by blood, since Dorea Black, Marius younger sister, had married a Charlus Potter, which was his great great uncle, or something like that. Then again, a lot of people in the magical world seemed to be related to each other in some way or other. And her family was part of that tangled web too. At least it had led to half of them being much closer since about four months.

Old Miss Gilchrist had passed away shortly after her tea party, almost as if she had simply kept herself alive long enough to have it one last time. Oliver and Julia had seized on the opportunity to live close to their magical relatives so they could have some help with Matthew and Aidan, in addition to learning about and experience wizarding society before they had to send their children off to Hogwarts. The Blacks had been delighted and a strong friendship had already developed between the two families.

Oliver had, however, sat her down before they had signed the papers and told her in no uncertain terms that while he and Julia were happy for her to be more involved in their lives, they would not tolerate her more overbearing tendencies. That if she ever showed she was unhappy about their magic, the time she could spend with Matthew and Aidan would be severely limited.

Initially, it had been a shock to learn her son and daughter-in-law regarded her in such a way. Had she not always been the perfect mother and grandmother? Had she not given up working to be a stay-at-home mother, always made sure they were well fed, ate their vegetables, tucked them in at night, kissed them better when they were hurt or sick?

Though, it had only been a few weeks later when she understood what her son had talked about. She and Mr Miller were babysitting Matthew and Aidan during the weekend while Oliver and Julia spent a long since planed weekend in Paris. Mr Miller had gone outside with Matthew to try the kite they had made while she remained indoors with Aidan, who was happily sitting at the kitchen table with some crayons and a sheet of paper. Being busy with preparing lunch, she had not looked closer at what her youngest grandchild was doing until he called to her. With a proud look on his face, and that adorable smile of his, he had held up his finished drawing and asked her to look. Her gaze had, however, looked past him and to the surface of the table, where a lot of crayon marks lined a blank rectangle and she felt frustration rise within her. It was not that long ago since she polished the wooden surface into a perfect shine and now she would have to ruin it while scrubbing the mess off.

The reprimand was at the tip of her tongue when she looked at Aidan again and it got caught as realisation dawned. She was judging Aidan, a child of six years, based on her own view of the world and understanding of its consequences. He had done nothing but produce a drawing he was eager to show her while all she had seen was the mess he left behind. And if she had allowed those words to leave her, that eager smile would have turned into a frown. She would have hurt her grandson.

It was just as when she had not taken the Blacks' ages and different life experiences into consideration when judging them. And from there, it had not taken long for her to apply the same reasoning to the Saunders. Mrs Black had been right about that. She had immediately condemned them according to her own standards, not taking into account the conditions of their lives and the way it had shaped them. Had only seen the faults they possessed and not their desire to learn and better themselves.

It had been a bitter pill to swallow to finally admit to herself how wrong she had been back then and for several weeks her courage had failed her when she had not dared to approach Mrs Black about it. In the end, it had taken her confiding in Mr Miller and him gently encouraging her to do the right thing, that had pushed her to it. The young woman had accepted her apology, but Mrs Miller had left that meeting with the knowledge that that was the only one she could make.

By rights, she ought to express her regret to the Saunders too, but they were long dead, or Mrs Granger, but the woman, along with Mr Granger, lived in Australia since many years back, no longer having any memories of their daughter or even their real names. Mrs Black's eyes had welled with tears, making Mrs Miller feel most sympathetic, as she had told of the war the magical world had been through and how she had sent them away to keep them from harm, only to be unable to reverse the memory charm when it was all over. Regulus would never experience having a loving nana and grandpa the way she had. At least he would have the best granduncle the world had to offer.

"Enid dear! Time to go!"

Blinking as she was pulled out of her memories, Mrs Miller rose from the armchair in the sitting room, where she had been sitting while she waited for the time for the party to arrive. She had finished making herself ready a lot earlier than usual and spent the last half hour with a cup of tea and admiring the invitation. It seemed a silly thing to do, perhaps, but she needed to bolster her like of the Blacks as much as possible before spending several hours under the same roof as some of the other guests.

With shoes and coat on and their gifts already in his arms, Mr Miller stood by the front door when she got there, tapping his foot impatiently. He was not one to miss a single minute he could spend with the Blacks and she could only shake her head fondly at him.

"With the amount of people that is going to be there, you will not be able to hog Regulus like usual" she pointed out.

"But the sooner we get there the more time I can claim" he retorted, now shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Pulling shoes and coat on and picking up her handbag, Mrs Miller was soon ready to accompany her husband across the street. But just as they closed and locked the door behind them the Malfoys arrived in their fancy car, just in time to be greeted first. In a way it felt like the housewarming party all over again when Mrs Henderson and her son had come just before them. At least the Malfoys were respectable people, if a tad bit overly snobbish, Mrs Miller thought, before reminding herself that she should try to stop categorising everyone like that.

By the time someone responded to the doorbell, Mrs Miller had reached the group, and was equally taken aback as everyone else when the door was opened only to reveal the oldest Mrs Weasley.

"Oh, there you are" she said happily, waving them inside.

The woman was incorrigible, Mrs Miller thought and rolled her eyes, only to catch sight of the older Mr Malfoy doing the same. His eyes met hers and he seemed a little surprised at first, but then gave her an almost imperceptible nod. It was the friendliest he had ever been to anyone outside of the Blacks during the few gatherings they had both attended, of which this was the third. The first two having been Mrs Black and Mr Blacks birthday parties. His wife had at least started exchanging basic pleasantries after being informed that they were family, but the man himself had always been standoffish and more or less only talked to his own family and the hosts. When he could not occupy him thusly, he was usually found skulking in some corner, looking disapprovingly at everything and nearly everyone around him.

With the Weasley's apparent inability to arrive on time, always turning up either embarrassingly early or unfashionably late, the party seemed to be in full swing when they entered. The sound of children playing, laughing and arguing could be heard from several directions, the closest being two small redheads coming down the stairs while tugging something between them. Mrs Miller thought it might end up with an accident, but Mrs Weasley's attention was blissfully transferred to them and she intervened in whatever it was her grandchildren were up to, leaving them to get out of their outerwear in peace, though not quiet.

It was a little ironic, Mrs Miller contemplated, that now that she had been granted access to the first floor, she had no wish to go up there again. The moving photos that adorned the walls, along with all the other magical items was still an uncomfortable reminder of the new reality of the world at large and she needed more time before embracing all of that. Matthew would not start Hogwarts for a few years yet and she could wait for that without anyone complaining, surely.

Apart from most of the Red Clan, the Potters and Lupins were also present, little Teddy and Hope, named after their maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother respectively, among the children playing in the sitting room and little James sitting on a blanket with Regulus, among lots of toys. The two babies had some similarities with their dark hair, dimpled smiles and delighted shrieks of laughter when the fake wand in James' hand emitted puffs of smoke in different colours every time he waved it around, but their eye colour was not the same. James had inherited his mother's bright brown eyes and while Regulus might have inherited a near matching tone from his own mother, his baby blue orbs had developed into the same grey as his father's in the end.

Mr Black was in the sitting room as well, and they went to greet him first before placing the gifts on the table to the side where an already impressive heap lay. Mr Miller then stayed to talk to their host – as well as look for an opportunity to be able to hold Regulus, Mrs Miller guessed – while she went to the kitchen to greet their hostess.

Mrs Black, along with Mrs Potter, was in the midst of preparing lunch, but not in the usual way. At least not in Mrs Miller's eyes. Ever since the secret of magic had been shared with them, the Blacks had not shied away from using it when they were visiting. And the sight that greeted her was of the two young women sipping lemonade while everything else was moving on its own, with only the occasional swish of one of their wands to give a new command. It was both impressive and overwhelming.

"Ah. Mrs Miller" Mrs Black said, giving her that smile that was reserved for her alone, with it not being as warm as her others. It had at least turned genuine after her apology.

"Good day" she replied. "Thank you for having us."

"Of course. You're family."

Mrs Potter looked on the verge on commenting, but thankfully remained silent. While Mrs Black was surely capable of keeping a grudge and exacting revenge, she did it more quietly, while her friend was not afraid to show her displeasure. There would likely never be more than civility between them, but she could live with that. The main thing was that she got on with the inhabitants of number eleven, not number seven. She could leave befriending everyone to Mr Miller.

"Ernest here as well?" Mrs Potter asked, sending the frying pan to tip its content of garlic and honey fried mushrooms onto a serving plate.

"Of course. He is in the sitting room with most of the others."

"Especially Reggie" Mrs Black said, her smile turning into that usual fond wideness others could inspire in her.

"Yes, he has been eager to meet his great-nephew again."

"Then he can get in line" a voice said from the door and they all turned to see the older Mrs Malfoy standing there.

"How lovely to see you, Narcissa" Mrs Black said and walked over to her cousin-in-law and greeted her with cheek kisses. The two women were a lot closer now than they had been the first time Mrs Miller had seen them interact almost a year ago, and Regulus seemed to be the main reason. Going by everything she had learned about the magical world and the war that had taken place in it so recently, it seemed to be almost a miracle that they would interact at all, family or not.

"So good of you to invite us. Anything I can do to help?" Mrs Malfoy asked after they had stepped back from each other, looking around the kitchen with some confusion, obviously not used to the nonmagical appliances.

"Thank you, but we're fine. Everything's almost done and lunch ought to be ready on time in half an hour."

"If you're sure."

"I am. You better go and compete with Ernest for Reggie's attention."

Mrs Miller smiled at the quickly retreating back of blonde woman. If there was one person who could challenge her husband when it came to doting on the baby boy, it was the older Mrs Malfoy, who clearly longed for the day she would become a grandmother. By the pointed looks she had given both her son and daughter-in-law while holding Regulus the last two times Mrs Miller had seen them, no baby Malfoy was on the way yet, however.

The doorbell rang once again and Mrs Weasley was heard calling she would get the door. The woman had perhaps appointed herself official guest greeter since she was not in the kitchen. Not that Mrs Miller had had occasion to try some of her food, but the old redhead was apparently highly skilled at cooking and loved preparing feasts for her family and friends. But since Mrs Black preferred to do her own cooking, being a bit more adventurous with ingredients and flavours, she was left without her usual role at these things.

This time it was Oliver and his family arriving and she could soon see both Matthew and Aidan hurrying past the kitchen to join all the other children. She already knew Eleanor and her family would not come. While Mr Potter's talk of his mother and aunt had done a great deal to avoid a rift in the family, her daughter still struggled with magic being real and the fact that for whatever reason both of Oliver's children had inherited it while neither of hers had. Not that they avoided the Blacks altogether as they had started eating dinner together one Saturday or Sunday every month last summer, but they did not want to meet with any other wizards or witches. Hopefully, they would come around soon, but with her daughter taking after her so much, Mrs Miller feared it would be a good while.

The news about magic being in their family had been equally hard for Emily and Jack to accept and they had looked at their cousins with obvious jealousy for a long time after the reveal. Luckily, it had not turned into resentment, but she knew it was highly likely they would not remain as tight as before. Matthew and Aidan had been overjoyed at learning they were wizards, thought the concept was a little harder to grasp for the latter due to his age. It had reached a point when it had almost spiralled out of control, though, with Matthew wanting to try everything he could think of until the Blacks had been called in, sat down with the boys and explained how magic worked and that they needed to be careful. Mr Black, who devoted the most time to them after that, had quickly become a bit of an idol, as well as uncle Sirius.

Everyone had arrived by the time the meal was done, and Mrs Miller felt sure it must have been some kind of magic performed in order to manage to seat everyone in the dining room. Well, it was obvious that magic had been used to extend both the room itself and the table, adding some chairs too, but the task of getting everyone in this unruly mass of people in there and sit down would surely have been impossible without someone making use of their wand.

Finding herself between Mrs Tonks, Mrs Lupin's mother, and the oldest Mr Weasley, it was a mostly tolerable hour that awaited Mrs Miller. The food was excellent as well as half of her company. Mrs Tonks was an intelligent and sufficiently conservative woman who knew enough about the normal world, due to her husband, to be able to keep up a pleasant conversation. Mr Weasley on the other hand asked her so many inane questions about everyday life and objects that she came dangerously close to snapping at him. When he had asked how a microwave oven worked she had to grip her knife and fork so tightly her knuckles turned white to avoid telling him to stick his head into one and see for himself.

It was so unlike herself to come so close to being rude, but she was at least gaining first-hand experience as to why the magical world was kept separate from the normal one. If every wizard or witch not born to nonmagical parents were as clueless as Mr Weasley, they would reveal themselves within minutes of trying to blend in.

While looking around the table in search of someone who might save her from the bombardment of questions, her eyes caught with the older Mr Malfoy's again. He was sitting opposite of her and there was a level of amusement present in his face as he glanced between her and her table companion and he hid his small smirk by taking a sip of his glass of wine before shocking her by actually coming to her aid.

"Say Arthur, old chap" he said, but in a voice that made it clear that the use of Mr Weasley's first name did not indicate any level of friendship between them. Rather the opposite. "Perhaps you ought to let poor Mrs Miller eat some of her food rather than force her to talk her way through the meal."

"What? Oh. Sorry" Mr Weasley replied, going a bit pink. "I'll save the rest of my questions for another time."

Mrs Miller sent a small smile to the blond wizard to convey her gratitude, but he had already turned to Mrs Black, who sat next to him, and started talking to her.

After lunch, it was time to open the presents and everyone moved into the sitting room, which had also been enlarged and a great number of armchairs added. While everyone found somewhere to sit, Mrs Black and Mrs Potter allowed their sons to toddle around a bit in front of them. The sight of the babies, who were quickly moving into toddlerhood, walking around on short, chubby and wobbly legs was nothing short of adorable.

When Regulus tried to bend down to pick up the red and green plushie dragon she and Mr Miller had gifted him – which had apparently turned out to be a bit of a favourite to her husband's utter delight - and he almost lost his balance, she held her breath. But he only let it go, righted himself and turned back towards his mother.

"Mamama" Regulus said as he reached out with his chubby little hands and gripped the skirt of her dress when he arrived.

"Hello, my little love" Mrs Black cooed at her son as she bent down and picked him up, placing him on her lap.

"Ufufuf" the boy said, waving towards the dragon.

"I know, darling. But you need to open you presents first, then you can play with Snuffles. Look, daddy's got one."

As if he noticed Mr Black just then, Regulus smiled brightly when he looked to his father, who sat next to them, clapped his hands and shouted; "Dadadada!" They all knew his first proper word would arrive any day now, seeing how close he was.

Mr Black, with the gift table to his other side, had reached for the first item. The birthday boy was offered to help open it and managed a few tears in the wrapping paper, but otherwise needed the assistance of his parents. It proceeded until everything had been opened and an impressive amount of clothes and toys lay around them.

Most of it was magical, with toys that could do things without batteries in them, such as fly, and clothes with patterns that were clearly from the magical world with dragons, broomsticks and some other creature that seemed a strange mix between a horse and a bird. Then there were the items from the nonmagical guests.

Mr Miller had been worried about how they were going to get something suitable to give Regulus, seeing that they could not get into Diagon Alley on their own. The day he, Oliver, Julia, Matthew and Aidan had been taken on a tour of the magical shopping district by the Blacks, Mr Miller had returned home ecstatic, talking nonstop about all the marvellous things he had seen, while she had elected to stay at home. But they had only been able to reach it with the help of the Blacks as the inn through which one made the crossing from the normal world was enchanted to be more or less invisible to nonmagicals. However, when he had talked to Mr Black about it, the man had replied that they would only be happy for Regulus to receive gifts from the muggle world as well. Mrs Black, especially, was keen on this due to her heritage.

And so, they had bought a book with fairy-tales, for it appeared the magical world had their own, a chewing toy, a colourful miniature xylophone – which the oldest Mr Weasley had marvelled over – and an animal themed wooden knob puzzle. Oliver and his family had given a Duplo train set and a plushie lion that roared when one pressed on its belly – which Mr Weasley had been even more amazed by.

The twins had gifted an actual flying broom and Mrs Black gave them a particularly sour look, saying she had now wasted having managed to make her husband promise to wait until their son's second birthday at least – though preferably his eleventh - before giving him such a dangerous thing. The identical redheads simply grinned and shrugged while Mr Black unsuccessfully tried to hide his smile, prompting his wife to glare at him as well.

Tea and coffee were served after that, while the children were led up to the playroom on the first floor under the supervision of the oldest Mr and Mrs Weasley, leaving the rest of the adults, and the two babies, to sit and talk for a while before dessert would be served. Regulus now sat with Snuffles in his hands since none of his new toys could compete with the dragon it seemed.

After pouring herself a cup of tea, Mrs Miller looked around to see where she could sit. Having been last to the refreshment table, most people had already sat down in smaller groups and there were none of them she felt entirely comfortable joining. Mr Miller did sit with the Blacks, but they were also joined by the twins. Oliver and Julia sat with the second oldest Mr and Mrs Weasley as well as the Lupins. Most of them might be alright, but Mrs Lupin, just like the twins, had not fully stopped ribbing her and after lunch she was simply not in the mood to handle it gracefully.

Then her eyes stopped at the figure in the corner. With the rest of his family in conversation with Mrs Tonks and a young woman she had not seen before today - who was also blonde, but in a darker shade which paled in comparison to her bright yellow dress, and were those corks dangling from her ears? – Mr Malfoy sat alone. When his eyes caught hers, he gestured towards the unoccupied armchair next to his and for whatever reason she accepted his invitation. If nothing else she could thank him for his rescue earlier. There was also a great deal of curiosity involved, if she had to be honest.

"Mrs Miller" he said in a surprisingly neutral voice when she sat down.

"Mr Malfoy" she replied. "I wanted to thank you for what you did at lunch."

"Ah, yes. Arthur Weasley has the unfortunate inclination of being terribly fascinated with all things muggle. It baffles me. Your husband seems to have developed the reverse, though I suppose it is a more understandable affliction. Magic is, after all, superior."

"I have heard about the war, you know" she said, less than pleased about his view on the matter. What he called muggle, she called normal.

"And which side I was on no doubt" he said, turning towards her with a challenging look, though not cold.

"Yes."

"And yet you came to sit here with me."

"I hardly think it likely you would attack me here in front of everyone, Mr Malfoy."

His lips twitched into a tiny grin.

"Perhaps."

They sat in silence for a while after that, simply observing everyone else. It was strangely a comfortable silence and she knew then that Mr Malfoy was as keen on the company as she was. Perhaps even less.

"You know" he said, startling her. "For a muggle, you're not all bad."

Coming from him, that was in all likelihood a compliment of the highest degree.

"I might have been disposed to think ill of you after Hermione told us about her grandparents. Not that I care about them, but she has become family and so she is important. Enough. I liked you even less when I came here the first time and saw that you were indeed the snooping neighbour as described, standing in a window and watching me and my family arrive. It was in very poor taste I must say, Mrs Miller."

Gulping at the dangerous edge that had appeared in his voice, Mrs Miller sat still and simply listened. She felt like a mere bunny facing down a fox. One wrong movement and she would be pounced on and be lucky to escape with her life. Or maybe a mouse facing down a snake would be a more apt description.

"However, today, and the other two times I have seen you since we first met, I have found that you are much like me in this particular social setting. Just like me, you only care for a few people present, and there is a large overlap in which people we view as such" he said, once more turning towards her, pinning her even more to the spot.

"That would be true" she managed to reply when he looked expectantly at her.

"The Weasleys in particular I find that we both disdain. Well, Bill Weasley has proven himself a cut above the rest, I suppose, being a most talented curse breaker and reasonably adept at navigating various social situations. But the point is, we are both of us here because of who we are married to and not necessarily by choice. Would you agree?"

"Yes" Mrs Miller replied, now curious as to where this was headed.

"Then I suggest an alliance. When we are brought together at occasions such as this and we find ourselves unable to enjoy our usual company, we can make a tactical retreat together. I will certainly ask you nothing about the muggle world and you will not ask me about the magical. Agreed?"

Looking at him in pure bafflement, Mrs Miller could only nod her agreement. It seemed such a strange thing that this man, out of everyone present, would most resemble her. The man who doubtlessly should have been the one to despise her the most. It was a stark reminder that despite the involvement of magic, they were both humans and could share the same traits and opinions, even if formed for different reasons. Not that she would sequester herself with him in the corner and share a blessed silence all the time, but it was nice to know she had the option.

By the time dessert was served, she had altered between sitting quietly beside him and talking with Mr Malfoy about the people present a few times. This was a topic he had found acceptable and divulged some information on everyone present.

Most interesting was the Lupin family. The man was a werewolf, the woman a metamorphmagus and both children likewise. While he clearly disdained werewolves, Mr Malfoy did also explain that the man was human and harmless when not transformed, so she had nothing to fear from him.

Other notable pieces of information were that Fleur Weasley, the lovely blonde wife of Bill Weasley, was a quarter Veela, Lavender Brown, Ron Weasley's fiancée, had miraculously survived an attack by an untransformed werewolf, even if he was mostly beast then as well, and that Mr Potter had been the one to defeat the Dark Lord that had led the Malfoys' side of the war.

It all seemed so surreal, like it was nothing more than fanciful stories made for children, but the serious look in Mr Malfoy's eyes told differently. He was not a man given to tell such tales.

Another of Mrs Black's extraordinary baking creations was revealed after the oldest Weasleys had returned with the children. It tasted as wonderfully as it looked, with the raspberry and dark chocolate flavours having made a most advantageous union, along with a third component Mrs Miller could not place. Maybe it was something from the magical world, seeing as everyone present was in on the secret.

This time, she had managed to sit next to Mr Miller after they all returned to the dining room since even the extended sitting room had trouble fitting everyone comfortably. The twins might be seated opposite, but with their wives having made them take care of their young children this time, they were preoccupied. The only unknown factor was the young woman with blonde hair and wearing a bright yellow dress who was seated on her other side. Mr Malfoy had said her name was Luna Lovegood, and was a bit of an oddity, though harmless enough.

"Mrs Miller" the young woman said after they had both finished their pieces of cake and she turned to find a pair of pale silvery eyes gaze at her, managing to seem both vacant and incredibly sharp at the same time. It was quite disconcerting. "I know Mr Malfoy told you who I am, but I would like to introduce myself anyway. It is the polite thing to do, don't you agree?"

She tilted her head to the side at the last part, giving the impression of a curious bird.

"I… yes, I suppose so."

"Lovely. I am Luna Lovegood."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lovegood. I am Enid Miller."

"Charming. And I must say, it's so very nice to see so many empty wrackspurt nests around you. You must have had quite the infestation for an awfully long time, but now they are mostly gone."

"Eh. I am sorry, but an infestation of what?"

"Wrackspurts" Miss Lovegood replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They make people unfocused and confused and like to nest around those that are receptive to them. You must have lived under false pretences a large part of your life, though sadly unable to realise it. You should tell Hermione about it, so she knows it wasn't all your fault."

"I see" Mrs Miller replied, not seeing at all, "I will be sure to do that."

Miss Lovegood beamed happily at her then, only to turn her attention back to her cup of tea the very next moment, leaving Mrs Miller baffled. But she decided that she would indeed ask Mrs Black about those whackputs, or whatever it was they were called. Not because she dared believe some weird kind of magical creatures had lived around her and influenced her for many years, but because she needed to know if it was possible.

The opportunity to do this presented itself when the party was about to come to an end. Most adults were busy making sure they got everything packed, including the various favourite toys their children or grandchildren had insisted on bringing, and Mrs Black was in the kitchen on her own, directing the dishes.

Mrs Miller entered the room after making sure no one was close enough to overhear. She then took a short moment to observe the process of cups and small plates flying into the dishwasher, arranging themselves so that as many of them as possible would fit, before making her presence known.

"Mrs Black, might I have a word with you."

"Sure" the young woman replied, that lesser smile appearing on her face.

"You friend, Miss Lovegood, said something to me earlier. Something about… eh… I think it was wackpunks and they had been nesting around me."

"I see. That would be wrackspurts and while Luna has discovered some new magical species in the years since we all left school, neither she nor anyone else has ever been able to prove the existence of such creatures. It is simply her way of expressing the strong intuition she can somehow have about others, meaning she meant she could see you had some troubles with discerning truth I'd wager."

"Well, she would be right in part about that, would she not" Mrs Miller replied.

"Perhaps."

Standing there, face to face with the young woman who had turned her life upside down in less than a year and made her question and realise so much, Mrs Miller felt compelled to repeat her apology. It was still an ordeal for her, but she also knew that in the end it was all for the better, to have had her eyes opened and learn in advance about the magic in her family.

"I am sorry for what I have done, both long ago and recently. Even if wrackspurts had been real, I would still have been to blame. And thank you, for accepting me and my family in spite of all that."

Mrs Black sighed and made a last swish with her wand before approaching her and laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I will always feel some amount of anger at what you caused my nana and grandpa, that I won't deny, but I also know better than to let myself be consumed by it. Your only continuing punishment is that the twins will be moving in soon and they are not going to be fully forbidden from teasing you. However, if you ever feel as if they take it too far, let me know and I'll talk to them."

"Thank you, I will."

Walking back home a short while later, Mrs Miller looked both up and down Carnation Lane while she crossed it. Mr Fletcher dying and the Black moving in had only been the beginning of the many changes the neighbourhood had already undergone and would continue to do. With many of its inhabitants having become so old they either died or moved to more manageable homes than the large houses on offer there, number after number was now becoming vacant. First the Potters, then her own son and his family and soon both the twins. Who knew who would be next?

With some luck, the Suttons would be next to move away. After Mrs Sutton had understood that her friend would not change her opinion, she had given her the cold shoulder. Instead, a tentative, but true, friendship had started to grow between herself and Mrs Jones.

Indeed, her world was changing, and the motorbike metaphor Mr Black had passed on to Mr Miller seemed strangely fitting; when you faced a curve, you had to lean into it, or you might crash. And while she would never in her life ride a bike, not even in the sidecar, it was good advice and she had vowed to keep herself prepared for whatever might come next and make sure to welcome it when it did.


Next chapter: Epilogue! A look about a decade into the future to see whatever came next and how life has developed for the people living on Carnation Lane, which will be quite a few more witches and wizards by then.