O
JANUS
Choices
Hope's eyes were so swollen with encrusted salt the next morning that she couldn't even open them at first. She managed to retrieve a damp cloth and lay there for a while, letting the coolness soothe them, trying to work out how she felt. Far from good, admittedly, but better than she had the previous morning. That could only be a step forward, and with this thought in mind, she made her way downstairs.
Her father was alone in the kitchen. There was nothing unusual about his morning greeting apart from the hug he gave her, which conveyed that he meant every word he had said the previous day. Tonks came in the door minutes later, informed them that Harry had granted her the week off, hadn't asked why, and that she would be there for whatever Hope needed.
"And I'm here as soon as you want to talk about it," Tonks continued. Hope did not need to ask what 'it' was. "We both are. I would advise discussing it sooner rather than later, but we're not going to pester you. OK?"
Hope nodded gratefully, still trying to collect her thoughts, and helped herself to a bread roll she didn't want, for something to do.
"Any Ministry news this morning?" Remus enquired, as Tonks poured herself a coffee and sat down next to him.
"There is, as it happens! Hermione nailed her final interview last week and will be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement from August."
Even Hope smiled on hearing this. Well deserved was an understatement.
"Can't say I'm surprised," Remus said.
"Nor am I. Not sure how Paul Nightingale will feel though, losing out to someone twenty years his junior. He's not had it easy recently, with the divorce and then his mother's illness. A promotion might have been a welcome distraction."
Remus shrugged. "I was at school with Nightingale," he said. "He was a prefect when we were in our final year, and James and Sirius both liked him - so that's high praise. From what I hear he's always been fair and reasonable, so he'll know the best person got the job."
Hope listened to them chatter away, chewing on her crust without tasting it. When the conversation hit a natural lull, she put down the remains of the roll and addressed them.
"Can I ask you something?"
They both turned to her at once.
"You know you can."
"How did you feel when you found out about Teddy? When you first learnt you were pregnant, I mean?"
Her parents exchanged a glance full of an emotion she could not decipher. Her mother was the one who replied.
"I won't deny that I was shocked," she said. "It wasn't exactly planned, you see, although of course I am so happy that it worked out the way it did. But we were only just married and at war and we hadn't discussed children at all. I didn't mention it to anyone for the first week. Not even to your dad. It took me a while to process. But by the time I did, I was-"
A fond smile split her face.
"Elated," she finished. "That's the only word I can use to describe it."
Hope considered this. She had known for a week now. If there was one emotion she was not feeling, it was elation.
Her father had not responded to the question, but she didn't even need to ask him. He would have been elated too. More so, if that were possible, after a lifetime of thinking he would never be a father.
And that was the other problem.
"Will it hurt you? If I don't keep it?"
Tonks's eyebrows knitted together slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"It's just. I know about - about-" she couldn't bring herself to say the name. "Gran told me about her sister, a while ago. I know what happened. What she did. And I know Dad thought he wouldn't have children or a family when he was younger, and – and now I'm here, and talking about not wanting a child. And- And-"
Panic threatened to overwhelm her again, but Tonks reached out and took her hand, holding it very tightly.
"Hope, this is your life, not ours. Your body, your future, your choice. I assure you that we will not judge you or be upset. Our experiences don't dictate your own and they never will."
Hope tried to hold on to the sincerity of that statement as her parents continued to discuss with her, rationally and calmly, the practical elements she needed to think about. The considerations Hestia had mentioned and more: the financial impact, the physical strain on her body, the further toll on her mental health, the freedoms she would be giving up. Her mother asked at one point whether the father might be someone important to her, and Hope, running her mind over possible candidates, could confirm that the answer was definitely no. Shame hit again as she admitted it, but no judgement came her way, even then.
Eventually, Remus had to go and start work, leaving Hope and Tonks alone together.
Hope stared down at the table and pushed some crumbs around her abandoned plate. The resolve from yesterday - the knowledge that she couldn't have a child, now, at seventeen - wasn't as clear cut as before. She did not ask her mother what she thought was best. Hestia had told her that it had to be her own decision.
Hestia.
A fresh wave of guilt materialised as she recalled the state she had been in the previous day. Now that the truth was out and she had witnessed her parents' calm, focused, loving reactions, it seemed ridiculous that she had not been able to tell them before, that she could have even considered doing this alone. Yet she had been adamant that was the only way forward, and if it hadn't been for Hestia...
In the end she confessed this as well, explained how resolutely determined she had been to hide the pregnancy from them, and that Hestia had convinced her of the right path. She thought her mother would, if nothing else, be hurt by this admission, but Tonks held her hand tighter, eyes warm.
"Hestia is a wise woman," she said. "And a wonderful friend. I'm glad she was there for you, and very grateful to her."
"She said it had to be my decision, only mine," Hope added. "And I understand that, I do. But I'm - I'm so confused. And I'm scared because what if - what if I don't keep this baby, and then in the future-"
She couldn't finish the sentence, but she was thinking of Marietta Edgecombe, of her face as she gazed down at the baby before her, knowing she didn't have one herself.
"You want to have children and can't."
The statement was said with such tranquillity that admiration for her mother reached its peak. That she could stay so calm in the face of this discussion, one that must surely be triggering the worst possible memories. Hope repressed the guilt this time around. She knew her mother didn't want her feeling remorseful, and it would be a disservice to do anything other than listen, understand, appreciate the fact that she was willing to share her own experiences.
"The day Hestia told me what Bellatrix had done," Tonks started, her voice quiet but steady. "Was - It was the worst day of my life so far. Without question. With war you come to expect darkness, horror, grief-" she swallowed. "War is hell on earth, and nothing can ever prepare you for losing a loved one, but when the world is falling apart around you, tragedy and unspeakable crime become part of daily life. That day. That news. Coming so unexpectedly in peaceful times, the lingering evil from an enemy we thought was long dead."
She shut her eyes tightly and Hope wanted to reach forward and hug her, but they were open again within seconds, completely clear.
"And I wished, that day, that I'd never joined the battle at all. Wished I had stayed home with Teddy and never seen Bellatrix again. Let my colleagues and friends win the war while I took care of my month old baby, as everyone expected me to do."
Her eyes drifted to a photo on the wall, in which Teddy was nine and Hope was two and Tonks was holding each of their hands. All three of them were sporting matching shocking pink hairstyles.
"I don't wish that any more," Tonks said. "Mainly because here you are, in front of me, and I couldn't imagine having any daughter but you. But also because I know I couldn't have sat there doing nothing and waiting for news. Not at the time. I couldn't have stayed in Mum's pristine living room while Hogwarts burned to the ground, imagining your dad fighting alone… my friends dying… Voldemort taking over. Imagining and picturing but not knowing until it was too late."
Hope wasn't entirely sure where the speech was going, but it was helping, somehow, to listen.
"If I had stayed behind, who knows what else might have changed? Who's to say if I inadvertently spared more lives by the enemies I took down? I will never know. I do know that if I had been sitting safely at home when Fred died, I would always have wondered, could I have saved him? If your father had died fighting alone, I never would have forgiven myself, for the same reason. That is the undeniable truth, and so eventually I came to terms with my past decisions and accepted the place of their consequence in my life."
Now her face hardened a little, but the emotion appeared to be directed at herself.
"Even that awful day - those bitter regrets - didn't stop me doing the same thing again," she continued. "When you were four months old and the black alerts came through for the final surge, I responded. I felt I had to go. Your dad begged me to stay behind, Harry was appalled when I turned up, and this time, maybe they were right. I was lucky that night. I believed I had to go, and maybe I played a role by doing so, but I was very lucky to walk away unscathed. And had a further alert come in while I was on maternity leave, I would have ignored it. I would have stayed at home. With you."
She was holding both Hope's hands now, her thumb tracing soothing circles on Hope's palm.
"My point in all this, Hope, is that... we can replay our mistakes of the past over and over again. And we can imagine a million different outcomes to each turn we take. But neither help us. Neither move us forward. To move forward, we need to use the knowledge and feeling we have in the moment. Accept that we aren't seers, accept our future possible regrets, accept that we are only going to lead one life and do what is best and right by ourselves. In the present."
Hope's eyes filled with tears again, but they were calm tears, not the hysterics of the night before. She let her mother pull her close.
"I am not saying," Tonks added firmly, "that everything happens for a reason." Hope felt the disbelieving shake of the head against her cheek. "I was told that once, shortly after you were born, and I was... beyond furious. That someone should reduce my pain, my suffering, the worst moments of my life... to a simple working of fate."
For the briefest of seconds Hope felt the anger radiating through her, but then she drew back again, eyes still clear as she reached out to tuck a strand of Hope's red hair behind her ear. "No. What I am saying is that our choices take their place in our lives the second we make them. And if you know you are making the best choice you can, at the time, then all you can do is trust in it. All you can do is believe that decision will lead you to a place you want to be."
O
Hope was sat in her room later on, pondering every word of their conversations, when Remus brought up some folded clothes and laid them on the edge of her bed. He turned to leave, then paused in the doorway.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What you said earlier - you said that I was sure I wouldn't have children when I was younger. Did someone tell you that? Or was it a guess?"
Hope cursed herself internally. She had never intended to show her father the message in the Marauder's Map, convinced as she was that it would hurt him and stir up old emotions of past tragedies.
"I'm curious, that's all," he pressed on. "Wondering how you knew. It's perfectly true. I thought I would never have a family because of my condition but I don't tend to discuss that. I've never mentioned it to you. Your mother says she hasn't. I hope I never-" he trailed off, looking worried.
"I hope I never made you feel unwanted. Because I can assure you-"
"No! No, Dad, of course not." She hesitated and then reached into her bedside table to pull out the Marauders' Map. There wasn't any point hiding it from him now.
He smiled in slight confusion at the sight of the old document, a generation of trouble, secrets, lies and truths concealed within its folds.
"James Potter gave that to you, I presume?"
She nodded, tapped her wand on it and muttered "I am Moony's daughter."
The words she had read nearly a year ago inked themselves back into view, and she handed it to her father. He reached out a hand to take it, stunned.
"I'd forgotten about that," he murmured, almost to himself. "Clean forgotten. It was the summer," he explained. "Our last summer as students and we spent most of it at the Potters'. They were away for the evening, we had far too much to drink, got onto the subject of James and Lily and what would happen if they did get together and ever had a child, and Sirius started worrying that we'd grow up old and boring and that the Marauders' good name would be lost. James had received his Head Boy badge, you see. And they decided, there and then, to write a message to our future children. I – I had forgotten."
Sadness and guilt clouded his expression as he met her gaze.
"Hope, I would never have chosen for you to read this, least of all when you weren't in a happy place yourself."
"I'm sorry."
"No. I'm the one who should be apologising. We were young, but that doesn't excuse the fact that we were careless. Irresponsible. We made light of a lot we shouldn't have. There is so much that we didn't understand, back then. And I can say with absolute certainty that all of us, on understanding what it is to have a child, would have opted to be seen as strict and boring, not naïve, careless seventeen-year-olds."
"I don't see you as strict or boring," Hope said at once. "Or as a naïve seventeen-year-old."
"Well, that's kind of you to say." His eyes scanned the text again. "And they were right about one thing, I suppose. Are you about to give me a whack on the head and tell me I'm an idiot?"
She shook her head, not quite able to smile. He cast a last, wistful look at the four names at the bottom before wiping the map and handing it back to her. She did not take it.
"You should keep it, Dad."
He chuckled.
"What on earth am I going to do with it?"
"Just to have. They're your memories, more than anyone else's. And it's falling apart. It survived the second generation of marauders, and most of the third - James got plenty of use out of it! I don't think it will last another one."
"Perhaps you're right." He hesitated again before tucking the map into his pocket. "Yes, perhaps you're right. Maybe I'll see what other hidden messages I've forgotten about in the last forty years."
His words were echoing in Hope's ears as he made to leave the room.
"We were careless. Irresponsible…"
"…There is so much that we didn't understand…"
"...naïve seventeen-year-olds..."
She knew the comments hadn't been personal, far from it. But she was a naive seventeen-year-old. She was not ready to be a mother. And she was ill and unhappy and had been told only yesterday that she needed to focus on herself. She could not subject her body and mind to nine months of pregnancy.
"Do what is best and right by ourselves. In the present."
"Dad?"
He paused in the doorway.
"I know what I'm going to do."
O
Right decision or not, the weeks that followed were the darkest time of Hope's life. The truth was out. The crushing burden was off her chest. Her parents and Teddy supported her decision wholly and unconditionally. The procedure in St Mungo's was dealt with quickly and sensitively by Hestia and a supporting healer. Physically, it was painless. Emotionally, the toll was far greater.
Hope was no longer spiralling downwards in a deep well of depression. But the top of the well, the tiny speck of daylight, appeared far, far above her, out of reach. The tears, having been unleashed once, now overcame her when she least expected them. The panic attacks became less severe but more frequent as time wore on. A dark, foggy mist had settled in her mind. Most days she could not find the energy to get dressed, much less leave the house, preferring to stay shut up in her room.
The exception was to attend her counselling sessions. Hestia had recommended a colleague she held in high esteem, a tiny Italian witch named Martina, and Hope forced herself to see her twice a week. Several appointments in, she wasn't convinced the counselling was helping, but she persevered. Time, apparently, was needed. Much like love, no magic had yet been invented to produce long term happiness and self-worth.
News had spread through the Weasley family, naturally. Hope had known from the start that questions would be asked about her sudden withdrawal and her lack of presence at family occasions. She didn't have the energy to pretend anymore and claiming to be fine had done her no good at all for the past few years, so it was agreed with her parents and Teddy that should anyone ask, they would be told the truth. They would know she had made mistakes, had a difficult year, hit a terrible low and was now trying to recover mentally. The subject of her pregnancy and subsequent abortion was to be avoided wherever possible, but it was not a secret. She didn't have the energy for secrets either.
As a result, she received a flood of concerned messages as well as the occasional visitor, all of whom were sensitive and kind, none of whom she ignored or turned away.
They weren't helping either.
The only people she wanted to see were her parents and Teddy. Teddy took to coming over for a walk on the beach during his lunch breaks and on one such day, he did not come alone, but was accompanied by an enormous, Collie-esque dog, with masses of brown and white fur and large amber eyes. The dog came bounding forwards and put its wet nose on Hope's palm when she met Teddy at the door, plumy tail wagging furiously.
"Who is this?" Hope enquired, patting the dog's head. It was silky smooth.
"Ruby. Clara's parents' dog. Clara got charged with her while they're out in Canada and already can't cope. So our lot are taking it in turns to walk her."
"Better get going then!"
Down on the beach, Ruby charged in and out of the sea chasing sticks while Hope and Teddy sat throwing them, enjoying the sun on their faces and the warmth in the air.
"So you're not coming to Harry's birthday meal?" Teddy said.
Hope shook her head.
"I can't. It's too many people. Too many questions. Do many "How are you doings?" and "How are you feelings?" Hopefully he'll understand."
"Of course he'll understand."
"I'm sure I will want to see everyone eventually," Hope said. These were her favourite people in the world. Always had been. Surely she would want their company again soon.
"How's work?" she asked, to avoid dwelling on when that time might come about.
"Good," Teddy confirmed. "We're compiling the results of the trials now and we're hoping to have them ready to send for approval within six months. One thing is for sure, the process works. Isolating the Sigma Phi cells, and working from there. But-" Teddy held up a warning hand as Hope sat up straight at the casual comment. "We still have to determine how different variables will affect the process. Age, for example, past experiences, MDI might play a factor. If we can't establish clear parameters we might never get approval at all."
Hope accepted this. The intense talk with her parents a few weeks before had reassured her. She would always worry about their father, always hope for a cure, but the fears weren't as all-consuming as they had been before.
"It's amazing progress either way," she assured him. She gazed back out to sea. She may not be feeling happy, but she was, at least, feeling calm. It was harder to feel panicked on the empty beach. She tried practicing a technique Martina had suggested to keep the panic attacks under control. It didn't work for everyone, she had warned, but it may be a starting point and it was good to try. To focus on the senses and identify something for each, find something she could see, then something she could hear... Both of them were easy: the sight of the horizon, the sounds of waves crashing against the rocks.
Ruby came racing back to them and shook herself violently. That would account for taste, Hope thought, as some of the salty droplets found their way into her mouth. And smell. But the scent of wet dog was comforting in a way, and she patted Ruby's head, feeling the now gritty, coarse fur beneath her fingers.
"Maybe you should get a pet," Teddy murmured, watching her smile as the dog licked her face.
She made a doubtful noise in her throat.
"Dogs are a lot of work. Remember the trouble the Longbottoms had with Sandy? And eventually I'll have to get a job - who would look after it? Not sure Dad would be keen, somehow."
"True. Wouldn't have to be a dog though. You could get another pygmy puff, maybe."
Unbidden, out of nowhere, came Cadmus's voice, loud and clear in her own head. "They're for little kids. It's not a pet you get as an adult."
Her face fell, the momentary positivity brought on by the sun and the dog extinguished faster than a dampened flame. Teddy noticed, seemed to understand that she did not want to talk about it and did not ask further questions as they put Ruby on the lead and walked back to the house in silence. Hope said goodbye to both of them, went upstairs and curled up in bed, tasting salt again as the tears leaked down her face and into the corner of her mouth.
oOo
August
The following week brought the news that Hope had been simultaneously longing for and dreading, one evening when she agreed to drop into Shell Cottage with some books for Bill. She was trying to make an effort to see other people, if only for short amounts of time.
Fleur greeted her with a warm embrace, which Hope returned, feeling comforted by the intensity of it. Her godmother drew back and Hope already knew what was coming, the sympathetic "how are you feeling?" The understanding nod as she shrugged. She knew it was all meant with the best possible intentions and she appreciated it. But how was she supposed to respond to that question?
Louis, back from France and down in the kitchen for a snack, said nothing at all, but the intensity of the hug he also bestowed on her made her suspect he knew the details. Which was fine by her. Silent understanding was suiting her best of all, at the moment.
"We'll see you soon, I'm sure," Fleur assured her, as Hope declined the offer to stay for dinner. "Especially with Dom being back soon."
Hope's heart skipped several beats.
"Dom's coming back?"
Fleur looked round at her in surprise.
"Yes! In a couple of weeks. Did she not say? I know she was going to. Maybe the letter went astray."
Hope wasn't so sure. She doubted Dom would want to see her at all, after her seeming indifference over the past year. She said her goodbyes and spent the evening and a restless night soberly contemplating whether her friendship with Dom would ever be the same again.
The letter, however, arrived the very next day.
… I'm coming home on 17th August. Roxanne is going to spend a few days in New York with George and Angelina but she'll be back just before your birthday. Maybe we can meet up the week I'm back?
Hope still wasn't convinced Dom would want to see her. No doubt she was being polite. They were still family, after all. Whether they were friends... remained to be seen.
Her sleep the following night was plagued with bizarre dreams. Dom and Roxanne stood on the doorstep, arms held out, and she was so, so happy to see them. Next minute they were screaming at her, demanding to know why she hadn't been in touch. "And after I brought you a pygmy puff," Dom yelled, eyes still wild with anger. Hope was suddenly holding a purple stripy ball of fluff, and then Cadmus appeared, sneering, telling her pygmy puffs were only for little kids and asked her if she was ever going to grow up -
Hope awoke with a start, heart pounding, forehead and torso drenched in sweat. Cadmus's mocking face was imprinted in her vision. She could hear his cold voice in her ears.
She rolled onto her side. It was a dream. Just a dream. Dom may not be happy about her lack of correspondance but she wasn't one to scream and shout. Cadmus was not about to turn up on her doorstep. She didn't have a pygmy puff at all.
Hope could still feel the soft fur, so vivid in the dream, against her hands. A sudden longing for her old, loyal companion overtook her.
She would get a new pygmy puff. She would go to The Wheeze as soon as it opened and buy one. Screw Cadmus - what the hell did he know? She should have insisted on buying one a year ago, instead of letting him buy her a stupid Wiznote. That day, really, had symbolised the beginning of the end for them.
She did not manage to go back to sleep and headed for Diagon Alley as early as she could. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was, for once, almost deserted.
"Early customer!" Ron said, coming over. He did not, much to her relief, ask "how are you doing?" or "how are you feeling?" simply said, "What can I do for you, Miss Lupin?"
Hope looked over at the empty cage by the left hand set of shelves, her face falling. "I was thinking about getting a new pygmy puff. But you don't seem to have any."
"Ah!" Ron gestured to her. "None we can sell yet. There's a hold up with our annual breeding license. We normally get it within hours and it's taken days. Worst timing with the back to school rush going on, however - " he indicated that she should follow him out the back, and Hope followed him into the stores, where a cage full of pygmy puffs sat on a large table.
"Can't give you one until we get the approval back," Ron said, "but you can choose the one you like best and I'll keep it reserved for you."
Hope surveyed the cage. They had every colour imaginable these days. Most of them were clustered round the bars, jostling for her attention. Hope, however, was looking towards the back, where there was a small turquoise pygmy puff with two odd, paler splodges on her back.
"That's an interesting colour," she observed. "They don't normally have different shades, do they?"
"No, they don't," Ron agreed. "And I'm not sure what happened with that one. She's not quite right, either. Subdued and unfriendly for a pygmy puff - she bit George the other day. We hardly ever get ones that bite. Might have trouble selling her."
Unperturbed by this, Hope poked a finger through the wire right next to her. The pygmy puff eyed the finger cautiously before shuffling towards it and sticking a tongue out to taste it. It was definitely subdued, much less animated than Oompa had been, but Hope supposed that she had been more animated fifteen years ago too.
Not quite right. Much like she was at the moment. And Ron had said they might have trouble selling her. The thought of the tiny creature sitting in the cage month after month, unloved and unwanted, pierced Hope's heart like an icicle.
"Can I have her?"
"Of course you can," Ron said. "I'll keep her reserved for you. I hear Dom and Roxanne are back soon!" he added, firmly ignoring the coins she was trying to give him as they went back to the main shop. "You'll be looking forward to seeing them."
"Yeah." Hope gave up trying to get him to take the galleons and put them in their St Mungo's fundraising tin instead. "Yeah. Definitely." But her heart beat faster again as she remembered her dream.
"I'm sure they will be looking forward to seeing you too," Ron said. "Two years is a long time. I know Dom, in particular, has felt pretty homesick recently."
Hope looked up at him in surprise.
"You do? How?"
"I think it was Louis who told me," Ron said, screwing up his forehead for a moment then nodding. "Yes, he mentioned it when we were at Harry's. They've stayed out there to make the most of their travel permits, and I think they had work commitments to see through. But it sounds as though Dom has been ready to come home for a while."
O
Hope was deep in thought as she made her way back through The Leaky Cauldron to floo home, and walked right past the bar without noticing who was standing behind it.
"Hello!"
"Oh!" She pulled up short. "Hi Michael."
She hadn't seen him since leaving school. The sight of his ever cheerful grin lifted her mood a little further.
"Are you helping your parents out?"
"Sort of," he said. "They're paying me though. Mum needed help on the bar while she manages all the renovations upstairs, and I'm saving to go traveling next year."
"Oh yeah, you were supposed to go with-"
Hope stopped herself. Michael had broken up with Esme before the end of term. Amicably, as far as she could tell, but maybe he didn't want to be reminded of it.
"With Esme," Michael finished for her. "It's OK, I don't mind you saying. We're still in touch and it was for the best in the end. She's been accepted at St Mungo's and she's started already - doing great. No traveling for us, though. So I'm saving up properly to go by myself for a full year, instead of a few weeks."
"Wow. That will be amazing."
"What about you? What are you up to at the moment?"
"Um." Hope didn't want to lie to Michael, nor did she want to pretend she was fine. Nor did she want to go into details.
"Not doing much for the moment," she admitted. "Everything went a bit wrong after school, and I haven't been very… well. I'm trying to get it all back together," she added quickly, before Michael could break in with sympathy. "Take time for myself before I figure out what to do next, you know?"
"Definitely," he agreed. "Taking time for yourself is important."
"I will need a job at some point though," Hope said. "I can't scrounge off my parents forever."
Her heart sank slightly as she said it. The mere thought of job applications was overwhelming.
"There's work going here," Michael said. "Mum definitely needs another pair of hands. Susan Finch-Fletchley has cut down her hours to the bare minimum - wanted to spend more time at home with Grace - but Mum's very particular about who she brings in and we haven't found anyone to meet her standards yet so she's insisting on doing it all herself. She's upstairs decorating all day, comes down here whenever the bar is too busy for one person, spends half the night setting up for the next day, hasn't slept in about a week." He rolled his eyes. "She'll implode if she's not careful. I have to say, life was simpler when we were younger and thought our parents were always right."
Hope sighed.
"Tell me about it."
"I know bar work isn't for everyone," he added. "Thought I'd mention it, that's all. If you were looking for something."
"I doubt I'd meet your Mum's standards," Hope said. She didn't bother bringing up her appalling NEWT results. No doubt Michael had passed everything with Es and Os.
"I don't see why not," Michael said, sounding surprised. "You're not a stranger who's going to come in and mess up her system. Mum's known you for years and - you know -" he grinned, "actually likes you."
"Thanks." Hope forced a laugh. "I'll - I'll think about it."
She already knew as she went on her way that the job wouldn't be for her. You had to be sociable and friendly to work in a pub, particularly one as popular as The Leaky Cauldron, and she had never felt less sociable in her life.
Back at home, Hope's thoughts returned to Ron's revelation about Dom. She took out some of her friends' most recent letters. Dom had never mentioned being homesick. Not once. All her letters spoke of fun adventures and exciting tales of foreign lands. Nothing about missing home or being ready to come back. But maybe that was because she thought Hope didn't care either way. Overcome with guilt, Hope took out a parchment and quill and, for the first time in months, began to write.
Hi,
I'm sorry. I know I've been the worst friend in the world-
She stopped. She wasn't supposed to be putting herself down.
She put the parchment through the recyclator and tried again on the blank page.
Hi,
I know it must seem like I've disappeared off the face of the earth. It's been a bad year. I made a lot of mistakes and got myself into a mess. I've been very unhappy but I think I'm on the up again now. I'll explain properly when you're back but I'm sorry if you thought I'd forgotten you or didn't care because I missed you every single day.
I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in Australia. Definitely want to meet up asap. Can't wait to see Rox too when she's back from New York.
All my love,
Hope
Having sent the letter by the fastest post available at the local Post Office, she set to work on her room, tidying her clothes and cleaning up Oompa's old cage for the new pygmy puff.
She dressed properly for dinner, put a streak of colour in her hair and managed to chatter away to Dad about his new project at work, and to Mum about how annoying Auror Bentley was being at the moment and how well Hermione was getting on in her new role, helped greatly by Nightingale, who was relieved, more than resentful, that he had missed out on the top job and the responsibility that came with it. Her parents did not comment on her attitude, but she could sense the surprised delight at her renewed buoyancy and interest.
She was on the up, Hope thought, as she lay in bed that night. Dom and Rox were coming back. She would soon have a new pygmy puff. Maybe she was out of her rut at last.
O
Hope had no idea where the positive thoughts went. How was it possible that in the space of a night's sleep when she hadn't even left her bed, her emotions could change so drastically? But change they could, and change they did. When she woke up the following morning, lead weights had reappeared in her chest, the motivation had gone completely, and the black, foggy cloud was back in her mind.
By nine o'clock she had cried twice, although she hid the tears from her parents. Yes, she wasn't supposed to be bottling things up any more, but they had seemed so delighted by her cheerful demeanour the previous evening. And surely this was a mere blip.
Once they had left for work, Hope lay in bed with the lights off, drifting in and out of sleep, trying to block out the entire world. Time crawled by and she only left her bed to go to the bathroom. She couldn't even be bothered to eat.
At four, there was a knock on the door. Hope considered ignoring it, reminded herself that her family were already worrying about her and crawled out of bed, making herself presentable with a quick shake of the head.
Ron was standing on the doorstep in his work clothes.
"I won't intrude," he assured her, stepping into the hall and declining her offer of a drink. "I should get back to the shop soon. Wanted to bring you... Here! All yours. Our license came through this morning."
Gingerly, he extracted the tiny, turquoise pygmy puff from his pocket. It gave a nervous glance around the room, then jumped onto Hope's shoulder and burrowed itself affectionately into her neck. To Hope's horror, tears welled in her eyes yet again. What was the matter with her?
Ron reached out a hand and gripped her other shoulder, even as she tried to blink them away. No doubt he had seen.
"I'm sure you're sick of hearing this," he said. "But it will get better. It does get better."
Ron had been unhappy too, Hope remembered. A long time ago, for a long time. He had got through it in the end.
"I'm a mess," she admitted. "I'm in such a rut. And every time I think I've got out, I fall back in. I thought I'd have figured it out by now. Got the clear picture back. But everything is still so - so blurry."
She wasn't sure where the word blurry had come from, but it was befitting to her current state and Ron seemed to understand. He ran his hand thoughtfully through his red hair before replying.
"I've been in a few ruts," he said. "Took me a while to understand that... I don't actually think it's possible to jump clean out of it. You can't make a clear picture in one stroke. You have to join up the dots one by one. Bit by bit. Step by step, no matter how small it is. Even if it's the tiniest step in the world. It might take a while, but eventually the rut isn't there anymore. Those steps take you to a better place and - and there's solid ground, I guess, under your feet again. If that makes any sense at all."
Hope nodded, eyes still stinging.
"It does. Thanks. Really. Thank you. For everything."
He cleared his throat and withdrew his hand from her shoulder as if he had only just realised it was still there. They both watched the pygmy puff for a few minutes. She was now hopping around cautiously by the mail stand.
"What are you going to call her?"
Hope thought over what Ron had said. Step by step. Little by little. Joining up the dots one by one. Maybe this was her first dot in the happy picture. The first step on the way to solid ground.
"Dot," she said, and Ron laughed in understanding.
O
Having Dot the pygmy puff as her constant companion did have an immediate impact, and the following morning, Hope awoke feeling better than she had the day before. The weekend brought with it glorious sunshine, and she spent most of it outside, introducing Dot to the local area or else lying on the grass in the garden.
Little steps, Ron had said. No matter how small.
She did her best to take his advice. On the Monday, she went for a run. She was hideously unfit - a further consequence of quitting quidditch - but it did improve her mood to get some fresh air and build up a sweat.
On Tuesday evening she took Dot over to Teddy and Victoire's new house and helped them decorate the living room - the latest of a seemingly never-ending list of home projects. Dot did not take an immediate liking to either of them, did allow Teddy to stroke her before they left, but seemed relieved to get home to her cage that night.
"I know," Hope said to her new pet, as she huddled on the tiny cushion in the far corner of her cage and fixed Hope with a reproachful stare. "I'm struggling with people too. But I'm making an effort so you're going to have to make an effort with me."
Wednesday was wet and miserable so Hope stayed in her room and read an old favourite book.
Thursday brought with it an unproductive counselling session and the tears returned with a vengeance when she got home, but she let them fall until they had dried up and by the time her father started making dinner she had summoned up the energy to help him out.
On the Friday afternoon, she was contemplating going for a run again when there was another knock, this time on her bedroom door. Surprised, Hope went to answer it. Her parents must be home early.
Then she froze, unable to trust what she was seeing.
Dom was standing on the landing, taller, somehow, her red hair longer than ever and so bleached from the sun it was nearly blond.
They stared at each other. Hope had no words for what felt like several minutes.
"When did you get back?" she said at last.
"About an hour ago," Dom said. Her voice was soft as it always had been, exactly how Hope remembered it. "I had a quick catch up with Mum and Dad. And Louis. I'll see Vic later. I wanted to see you."
Hope felt the tears starting again, but there were some happy ones this time, as Dom came forward and put her arms around her.
"I missed you," she said. "So much."
Hope couldn't even respond but she knew the intensity of the returned embrace would speak for itself. All her agitated worries about how her friendship with Dom was ever going to be the same fell away. Nothing had changed. She could tell that immediately. Instinctively.
Dot, after several moments of suspicious hesitation, had decided that Dom could be trusted and bounced up her arm.
"I guess we have a lot to catch up on," Dom said heavily, stroking the pygmy puff with her finger.
"Yeah."
Hope wondered where they were even going to start but Dom simply said:
"Beach?"
"Beach," Hope agreed.
She scribbled a note to her parents, should they come home early and worry, and she and Dom walked down to the beach mostly in silence. Once settled in their old familiar spot, Dom, at Hope's request, spoke first and Hope learnt about the grittier side of traveling. The travel bugs. The constant worry of money. The selfish people they had shared hostels and houses with. A couple of unprecedented but heated arguments between herself and Roxanne. She also told Hope about the morphing treatment. It had worked well and she was confident it had been the right thing to do, but neither decision nor procedure had been easy. Hope understood that sentiment all too well.
Then there was the missing home, the missing family, missing old friends who could never be replaced by new friends.
"-and - and I've been with someone the past few months, too," Dom said. "Although that's over now."
"You have?" Hope said in surprise. "Who? You didn't mention him in your letters, did you?"
"No. I didn't. Um. It was her, not him."
"Oh." Hope tried to hide her double take. "Wow. Cool. Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I didn't know you… liked girls… that's all."
What else had she been oblivious to in the past two years?
"I don't," Dom sighed. "I thought I might, for a bit, because I liked this girl. But I'm not attracted to girls at all, it turns out. That's when the problems started. Everything felt wrong but Alana was so strong willed and I had no idea how to get out of it."
Hope thought back to the letters.
"You - you didn't say."
"I didn't know how to," Dom admitted. "I hadn't even told you about her and every time I wrote it got harder to put the situation into words. Even Roxanne didn't know there were problems and we lived together. But eventually I knew it was time to end it and it got really nasty. Alana said some awful things." Dom swallowed, unwilling to elaborate. "You can probably guess the sort. Think Elodie but worse. Roxanne overheard some of it and she was fuming. You remember what she was like at school when anyone was unkind to me?"
"Oh yes." Hope gave a minute laugh. She had always wondered if Elodie would have survived to be reprimanded by Flitwick and Vector if Roxanne had got wind of her unkind behaviour first.
"This was even worse," Dom said. "And at first she was angry with me for not telling her. Then I had a meltdown and said I wanted to go home and it turned out she'd been feeling like that for ages but hadn't said anything because she thought I wanted to stick it out until our work permits finished."
"Oh Dom. When was this?"
"Last month."
Last month, Hope thought sadly. So all three of them had been struggling in their individual bubbles, spiralling down towards rock bottom. How much easier would it have been if they had talked more openly? Hindsight was a wonderful thing.
"Thing is, we'd promised Gee - you know, our boss - that we'd work on this big festival coming up. He's been so good to us and we didn't want to let him down. So we agreed we'd stay until the 15th, then Roxanne would meet George and Angelina in New York and I'd come home. But then I got your letter yesterday morning and - and I had to come home straight away. Roxanne would have come too if she hadn't already arranged everything with her parents."
"Your boss didn't mind?"
"I told him a family member was ill. He was very understanding."
"Sort of true, I suppose," Hope mumbled.
There was a silence. Hope knew it was her turn. Where did she even start?
It took the best part of an hour to explain everything. The long, downward decline into misery. The loneliness. The failed exams. The lack of motivation. The failure to keep up with quidditch. And the terrible end of term. The sex with random students, one of which had led to pregnancy, and the decision she had made as a result. The only part she skimmed over was the relationship with Cadmus itself, mentioning the break up in May and the fact that she had never slept with him, then pushing quickly on. She didn't want to drag the subject up now. Dom, who had been taking in every word, eyes sombre, speaking when appropriate, was not blind to the omission.
"So what happened with Cadmus?" she said at last, when the explanation finally tailed off. "It must have been a tough break up after eighteen months together."
Hope hesitated. She could go into specifics, tell Dom about the unkindness, the manipulation, the way he had twisted everything to the point of making her question her own reality. That she suspected his behaviour was the main reason she now experienced panic attacks multiple times a week. But the mere thought of talking about Cadmus made her heart beat faster, and she hadn't experienced the horrible out of body feeling for over a week now. There would be time, one day, to explain the intricacies of it. Now was not that time.
"Didn't work out." She shrugged. "He wasn't for me so I dumped him. In the end. Should have done it sooner, but you live and learn." She wasn't sure that her friend believed her, but Dom accepted the story without question, and the two of them continued to sit there talking, long into the evening. The sun went down and the air cooled, but nothing could extinguish the tiny fire of happiness that was burning deep inside her. Dom was home. Roxanne would soon be home. The two people, aside from her immediate family, she loved and trusted above all others.
"I'll see Vic in the morning, but do you want to come over in the afternoon?" Dom asked, as they finally made their way back along the shore. The moon was out, though barely visible, a waning crescent in the dark, star strewn sky. "Not dinner or anything, unless you feel like it," she added quickly. Hope had already confessed that she was finding the amount of invitations she was receiving overwhelming. "Just for a drink? And I bet Louis brought a stack of those Petit Sorcier biscuits back from France. He always keeps them hidden from Dad."
A drink and a biscuit. Hope contemplated this.
Little steps. No matter how small.
She could manage a drink and a biscuit.
"Definitely!" A genuine, unforced smile came out of nowhere as she hugged Dom goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow."
OOO