"We are so excited to have Tom stay with us for the next couple days, don't you worry about a thing!" Nana Mary told Zia, her wrinkled round face beaming happily. "It's been too long since we've gotten him all to ourselves, we've planned out a bunch of fun activities."
"Don't worry auntie, I'll be fine! Nana told me she's making my favorites to eat, and Papa is going to teach me how to ride a horse," Tom said earnestly. Zia raised her eyebrows, and turned to look at Papa Charlie.
"Is that so?" she asked him, doing her best to look stern. Papa Charlie chuckled.
"He'll be fine, Zia! You have fun with your free time!" he told her. She smiled.
"I'll do my best, Papa Charlie. Thank you both," she said, hugging first Papa Charlie, then Nana Mary. "And you be on your best behavior!" she told Tom. He grinned.
"I always am Auntie!" he reached his short arms up for a hug, and she knelt and gave him a brief squeeze.
"I'll be here to get you in two days, okay? I'll call you in the evenings to say goodnight."
"Okay." He said.
And I'll keep an eye on him too of course, Honovi hissed softly from the tank sitting on the table. Zia turned her head and nodded briefly, to show Honovi that she had heard and that she was grateful, then left.
She returned to the apartment, and dialed a number on the phone, while at the same time crossing off things on a checklist and going over the contents of her suitcase. Dresses…check. Hats…stockings…shoes…check, check, check.
"Hello, this is Arnold Halse barkeeper of The Hanged Man, how can I help you?"
"Hello sir, I was wondering if The Hanged Man also functions as an inn, or if there is somewhere else I could stay in Little Hangleton?" Zia asked the man over the phone, still looking over the suitcase.
"We've got rooms, when do you need one?"
"Are there any open for tonight and tomorrow night?" she asked.
"There are, would you be needing one?"
"I would indeed. Price?"
"9 shillings per night," the man said.
"Alright. Please have a room reserved for this night and the next under the name-" Zia paused, realizing that giving Gaunt as her last name would probably not be a very good idea in the town where the actual Gaunts came from.
"The name…?" the man asked impatiently.
"Dursley!" she blurted, then made a face to herself. Of all the names to pull from the top of her head, the worst muggle name out there had to be the first. "Zia Dursley," she said more calmly.
"Alright Mrs. Dursley, shall I expect you for this evening?"
"It's Miss, and yes you shall. Thank you very much sir," she said, finding it disconcerting and slightly revolting to hear herself referred to as Mrs. Dursley. Having it as a fake last name was bad enough, there was no way she was going to pretend that she was married to one.
"Not at all," Arnold Halse responded, and then hung up. Zia put the phone back onto the cradle, and went over the list one more time. Certain that she had everything, she closed up her suitcase, got her purse, and was almost out the door before she turned back and walked back to her room, slipping her wand into the purse as she came back out.
She had learned a lot of the spells in the beginning books she bought, assuming that since she was over seventeen the ministry of magic could find no reason to keep her from practicing just because she hadn't gone to Hogwarts. Every evening she would devote one or two hours to practicing magic with and without the Elder and Unicorn hair wand. She hoped she would not need magic on the trip, but with the potential proximity of hostile wizards to where she was going, Zia didn't feel comfortable leaving her wand behind.
She surveyed the apartment one more time, then picked up the suitcase, exited, locked the door, and waited for the bus, which she would ride to the train station, then take the train the rest of the way.
Hours later, Zia stepped off the train into the town of Little Hangleton. It was evening, and since it was still light out, Zia could see a group of teenagers kicking around a ball in a field nearby.
"Frank! Pass it here!" One of the boys yelled. Zia's head snapped over to watch the boys, her eyes focusing in on the one with the ball.
"Come on Bryce pass it!" another boy yelled. She watched as Frank Bryce kicked the ball to his friend, and pressed a hand over her mouth, feeling sick. She was seeing the youthful face of a man she only knew from the books as an elderly, war torn gardener who was killed by the child she was working so hard to protect and raise as her own. A girl laughed as the boy shot the ball towards the space between two large rocks and missed. "Aw shut up Dot!"
Zia turned her face away from the group, willing herself to keep it together. It does not have to end that way, she told herself. If I can raise him right, if I can do this, then it doesn't have to end with that boy being used to make a horcrux and fed to a giant snake. If I do this right, I can change that boy's future. She had known what kinds of things Tom had done as Voldemort, but for the first time she felt the reality of what he could become if she failed.
"I will not fail," she said out loud. "I will not." She lifted her head and straightened herself, and walked into town, her eyes finally finding The Hanged Man. She crossed the street, entered the pub, and walked to the counter. "Is Arnold Halse here?" A man wearing an apron and wiping out a beer mug with a cloth walked up to her.
"That's me, are you Miss Dursley?" he asked.
"Yes I am. I have a room reserved; we talked about this over the phone."
"We did, hold on." He walked to the register, and she paid for the two nights, and then he handed her a key, took her suitcase, and led her through a door and up a set of stairs. "That's the one, room 16," he said, setting her suitcase in front of the door.
"Thank you Mr. Halse," she said, and unlocked the door, then pulled the suitcase inside, and locked herself into the room. "I hope this isn't a mistake," she whispered.