Old Gemini

Eileen was studying her options for brushes. The art store she frequented for supplies had a new brand for sale. It was not one she was familiar with, but from the look and feel of them, they seemed to be good quality. They were also a few cents cheaper than her current preferred brand for brushes. Scrutinizing them against her usual choice, Eileen barely noticed that another person was coming down the aisle she was in until they said, "Hi Eileen."

She blinked. Eileen knew that voice. She turned her head to the right and grinned. "Oh, Harry," she said. Putting the brushes back on the shelf, she reached over and hugged her friend. "Hello," she greeted as she pulled back. "It's been too long."

He smiled. "You and the kids should come over soon." Then he chuckled. "I know Artie would be over the moon. Seeing the twins would probably end his whinging about how long it's taking for the summer to arrive and his cool cousins to come home from Hogwarts."

Eileen laughed too. "We could fit in a visit. Are you free next Sunday?"

Harry rubbed his chin and looked away. "I'll have to double-check with Ginny that she hasn't agreed to lunch or dinner with any of her family, but yeah, I'd say we are."

"Brill, just let me know when you're able to have us," she replied. "Our day is open."

He nodded. "Will do."

Eileen took a step back, taking in the sight of her friend. He had a basket in one hand. She thought she saw quite a bit of paper in it. "So, Harry, what are you doing here? Do you need any help?" she asked. Eileen had her doubts he was shopping for himself. She was close enough to Harry to know he didn't have much of an artistic leaning at all.

He lifted the basket up for her to peer into. "Gail," he explained. "She asked for some stickers and cardstock."

That made sense. Gail was a bit crafty that way. "Ah."

Harry sighed and lowered the basket back down. His expression told her he'd read a little too deeply into her simple acknowledgment. "I know, she's a Muggle, but she uses the stickers only for cards she makes for us."

"I'm sure Gail is careful about using them," agreed Eileen. As long as she'd known the other, Harry's sister had been very contentious about keeping her brother's magic secret to anyone who wasn't family or magic themselves. "She's always been rather sensible."

Harry flushed, apparently realizing from her tone he was being a little silly. "Sorry, it's a bit instinctive to defend myself these days," he admitted. He pinched the bridge of his nose just beneath his glasses. "You can't say anything like that in the DMLE without someone chewing you out." He huffed and grumbled, "Honestly, I wonder sometimes if the Statute of Secrecy even makes sense anymore…"

Eileen hummed her understanding. She had been seeing a lot more opinion pieces on the Statute of Secrecy and hiding magic from Muggles in papers and magazines lately. A lot were urging for a relaxing of the Statue. She understood why. The ingeniousness of Muggles was on the rise with their worldwide webs. Gail had explained it a bit to her, how you could find just about anything you might want to know on it if you knew how to properly word your question.

One of these days, a Muggle was going to ask the Google just right about wizards and witches and then they'd all know about their people.

"The Muggle world is very different now, isn't it? The last I saw Gail, she was showing me her, what did she call it? Clever, no, smart phone," said Eileen to Harry, who smirked. "From what I understood, it lets her take pictures and videos just about anywhere and anytime."

"Yeah," said Harry. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. "That's what I mean. They're becoming a real pain in the DMLE's arse. You can obliviate a person, but if they've got a picture of a magical creature on their mobile, or uploaded a video of a wizard performing a spell somewhere… Well," he paused and shrugged. "I reckon we're in for another wave of change here soon."

Eileen did agree. Shifts were on the horizon. She just didn't think they would be quite as grand as Harry seemed to hypothesize they would be. Recalling some of the more moderate opinion pieces she had read in one of Marcus's preferred news magazines, she said, "We just need someone clever to come up with a spell to zap that sort of thing right out of mobiles and maybe a new task force to scour the webs for incidents of magic."

Harry snorted. "I like how easy you make it sound."

She rolled her eyes. While Eileen knew this was an issue Harry was probably a little more educated on than her, it didn't mean she was wrong. Abolishing a Statute, especially one like the International Statue of Secrecy was going to be next to impossible. "It's easier than getting rid of the Statute of Secrecy," she grumbled.

"You're right about that!" agreed Harry, eyes crinkling around the edges. Abruptly, his attention then shifted to the paints Eileen held in the crook of her arm. Harry grinned. "Say, Eileen, I never asked. What are you doing here?"

She pursed her lips. She wasn't exactly happy about the graceless redirection of their conversation, however, Eileen also knew no good would come of fighting it. It really had been too long since she last had time to have a proper conversation with Harry. Even so, she couldn't help but jab, "It's not obvious?" She made the paints in her arms more visible to him and gestured at the display of brushes in front of them.

Thankfully, the wizard didn't take offense to her tone. "New brushes and paint," replied Harry. "Beginning a new project, are you?"

"Yes," she said. "A painting of Lottie for my mother."

Harry paused. "Ah, right, both Darla and Esther mentioned that," he murmured.

Eileen wasn't startled to hear they'd said something about it to Harry in the last few months. It was definitely the kind of thing Darla would probably ramble about in one of her letters to Harry. "Did they?" she replied all the same.

He dipped his chin. "Esther's worried, I'm sure that's not a surprise," he explained, waving off the remark. He struggled then, clearly trying to make sure his next words would be thoughtful, "Darla… I guess she's conflicted? She's said she's happy you're doing this for Edie. Darla knows she'll love it. She also mentioned she's not sure how comfortable she will be in the family quarters if Edie decides to hang it in the lounge or corridor."

"If it comes up again with Esther, tell her not to fret. I'm fine," said Eileen. She shuffled the paints in her hold a bit to look at them again and grumbled, "As for Darla, I'm sure she'll get over it. I settled on painting a portrait of Lottie when she was a little younger than she was then. I think that will make it a bit easier for Darla."

"You probably are right about that," Harry agreed. He paused, eyeing her. "I'll tell Darla if you like?"

Eileen felt her shoulders loosen a little. "Please," she said. It would be so much easier if Harry spoke to her. They'd already talked about the painting, unlike the two of them. Right now, she wasn't even sure if Darla would let them discuss it. She could at times be very touchy about talk of Lottie. "Merlin knows she's not going to talk to me about it."

Harry put a hand on her arm, expression sympathetic. "She doesn't want to discourage you."

Eileen scoffed. "Darla couldn't if she tried! I've been thinking about painting a portrait of Lottie for a long time. This idea isn't just something I came up with out of nowhere." Harry stared at her, expression froze in stupefaction. She sighed, realizing she'd been a bit too sharp. Eileen breathed in and out before she said, "Edie's fiftieth just gave me the push I needed to actually go through with the project."

Harry patted her arm one last time before he took his hand back and murmured, "I understand. I'm sure Darla and Esther do too." He pursed his lips, gaze critical. "It's just this is a sensitive project." Expression softening once more, he concluded, "No one wants to make this harder for you than it is."

She nodded. When Harry put it that way, Eileen found it infinitely harder to be cross with her sister and aunt. Him too for that matter. Eileen smiled. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate what you all are trying to do."

Harry grinned back at her, relieved.

Taking a page from Harry's book, Eileen reached into the basket Harry had. From it, she pulled out a few of the pieces of cardstock he'd chosen. "You have quite a variety here," she remarked, changing the subject.

Harry blinked, only to grin wider. "Yeah," he replied, letting the topic of Lottie's portrait fall behind them. "I reckon that will be more helpful for Gail…"

-o-O-o-

Like at the end of every childrens' painting class, parents were gathered around the door of the studio. They watched with varying levels of attentiveness as their children, and the peers of their children sang Eileen's slightly abridged version of the Clean Up Song and put away their painting supplies for the day. Some of the parents talked with each other, being mates, or at least acquaintances of one another. A few parents soothed fussing babies and toddlers they had with them. A couple more chatted idly with an older child that had tagged along to pick up their younger sibling from class.

Eileen made sure to acknowledge as many of them as she could with smiles and nods as she flitted around, helping her students clean, and, in some cases, clean up after them too. At one point, her gaze connected with Goyle's, who was tucked toward the back of the parents. She was holding her younger child, Grant, close. The lower half of her face was hidden by his round head. Eileen made sure to grin with her lips, her teeth, and her eyes.

The intensity of Goyle's stare mellowed and even though she could not see her lips, Eileen knew she was smiling from the way the apples of her cheeks rounded. A few minutes later, after she released the children, Eileen watched Elspeth skip up to her mother, already babbling about the fun she had in class.

Satisfied, Eileen began to turn away and finish the tidying of the studio. As she did, a parent called out, "Eileen!"

She turned and saw a familiar witch approaching. It was Leanne, someone Eileen actually thought of as a bit of a friend. She had been in Harry's year and a Hufflepuff. They'd gotten quite familiar with each other during that year after the war. Leanne had been a prefect for her house and was Eileen's ally in supporting Calliope's inter-house friendship with Sammy. Leanne had been one of the few left who still remembered Darla's friendship with Stephen.

"Hello Leanne," she greeted, taking note of the new dye job she had gotten done on her hair. She had dyed the ends of her long black tresses a bright orange-red. It was lovely on her, as were most of the bold stylistic choices she had made over the years.

Leanne's expression was unusually somber. "I saw today you had a new student in the class."

Eileen paused. She considered the other woman's features more closely. The downward quirk of her thin lips, the faint pink color of her usually pale cheeks. "Yes, her name is Elspeth," she replied, measuring her words. Eileen crossed her arms. "You're not asking for her mother's contact information, though, are you?"

The other witch's brown eyes flickered in the direction of Eileen's office and private studio. "Can we speak in your office?" she asked.

Eileen nodded. "Fine."

Leanne turned her attention to her son then, he had been happily flipping through the pages of a picture book at her side as they spoke. "Albie?" she said, drawing his attention to her.

He looked up, black brows coming together. "Mummy?" he replied, showing he could tell something was the matter with his mother even if he did not know how to put his concern into words.

Leanne placed a hand on top of her son's head, smoothing down the cowlick at the back of his head. "Mummy and Mrs. Belby are going to talk in her office for a minute," she explained, smiling at her son in a strained way. "Be a good lad for me and wait for us out here, okay?"

Little Albie's knit brows did not smooth. In fact, the unease on his face only deepened. "Okay, Mummy," he said.

The witch sighed. "You'll get a treat after we're done, I promise."

The worry on Albie's face did not vanish, but it was overwhelmed by the promise of a sweet coming his way. A smile splitting across his freckled cheeks. "Thank you!"

Leanne let her hand fall from her son's hand and turned an expectant look on Eileen. Taking the cue, Eileen turned her back on Leanne and walked to her office. The sound of Leanne's footsteps followed her. Once inside the office, Eileen stepped aside, letting the other witch in before she closed the door.

When she was done, she cast a muffliato charm on the door for privacy and went to sit at her desk. Once behind it, in her chair, Eileen squared her shoulders and stared up at Leanne who remained standing.

"Alright, say your piece," she said, crossing her arms.

Leanne's nostrils flared and she fisted her hands in her cloak in response. She knew Eileen too well. Through clenched teeth, the witch said, "I don't think it will persuade you."

Eileen agreed. She had settled on letting Elspeth into her class over a month ago and promised Goyle the girl would be happy in it. "No, I doubt it will."

"Eileen, why in Merlin's name have you allowed her to join your classes?" Leanne demanded, gesturing as she did.

In response, she sighed. People always asked the wrong questions. The answer to that question was simple, easy for anyone to find with a moment of thought. What Leanne really wanted to know was why Eileen did not refuse to teach Elspeth. Eileen, however, was not going to answer that question. Leanne hadn't asked and, honestly, Eileen didn't think she should have to explain herself— Not when the student Leanne was upset about was a little girl.

Blandly, Eileen drawled, "She has an interest in painting and I don't turn away people when I have room in my classes."

Leanne's pink face flared to full-on red. "She's a Goyle!"

Eileen stared back at the other witch, waiting for the worst of the color to fade from her cheeks. When it did, she said, low and firm, "Leanne, when I started teaching the Flint girls some years ago, people complained then too. I never kicked them out." She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward over her desk. "The children are innocents."

Her (soon to be ex) friend scoffed. "Perhaps they are naive, but they are still parrots for their parents' beliefs and opinions. I don't want my Albie exposed to that."

She acted as if she was considering Leanne's words. Finally, she said, "I'll make sure their easels aren't next to one another ever."

"Eileen!" decried Leanne, expression one of disgust.

Eileen just gazed back, nonplussed at the other witch's behavior. Her hatefulness toward a little girl and people who were, by all accounts, trying to be better people. "To be perfectly frank, from what I know about the Goyles and have seen with my own eyes, they are improved people from our school days. I think you have very little to fear about Albie hearing distasteful things from Elspeth," she told Leanne.

The witch's eyes grew wide and wild. "One of Goyle's best mates tried to murder your friend!"

Eileen did not flinch. "Yes, and Crabbe died during his attempt."

Leanne's outraged expression became something infinitely colder at her clipped reply. Expression taut and eyes narrowed, she hissed, "You know, with all this sympathy you show to— to— them, it becomes easier to believe the rumors that your father was never truly the Order's spy, but Voldemort's instead."

She stared at Leanne, a lump in her throat, and wondered if she had ever known this witch at all. How could she not see the parallels between her father and the Goyles? They had all made mistakes in their teenage years and, as adults, had or were trying to atone for those mistakes.

Really, Eileen was being very kind to her father too. Sev had been witness to the murders of George's parents, he was why Harry's birth parents were dead, and had killed Albus Dumbledore. The Goyles hadn't done half as many rotten things combined.

Their daughter and son deserved more leniency, respect, and kindness than she or the rest of her family did.

Part of her wanted to try to reason with Leanne. She had been a good mate once, but Eileen knew from past experiences it never worked. So, instead, she frowned and said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Leanne's narrow eyes briefly widened before returning to their glare. Sneering, she spat, "Albie won't be coming to your classes anymore. Especially if you're just going to keep letting Goyle and their ilk in."

Eileen nodded. What else was she to do? The only thing that would stop this would be to drop Elspeth from the class. Which was something Eileen would not do for Leanne, or anyone, for that matter.

"I'll miss him," she told Leanne with sincerity. "Albie has a wonderful eye for detail."

The witch made a scornful noise and left Eileen's office, closing the door more forcefully than necessary behind her. When she was alone, Eileen put her face in her hands. But she did not cry.

This was not the first time she had lost a student, or friend, because she insisted on treating the children of her father's old students like the innocents they were.

-o-O-o-

Eileen had not been certain at first. There were no small numbers of men and boys of Indian descent in Magical Britain. However, as they strolled down the street of Old Edinburgh behind the pair, the little boy stopped abruptly and stooped down. The man turned, doing the same and giving Eileen a view of his profile.

She was right. It was Sachin Patil. Putting on a friendly expression, she looked to her children on either side of her and said, "That's an old housemate. I want to say hello."

Carrie shrugged, indifferent, while Marcus sighed, aggrieved. Her older son was such a shy child. Eileen often wondered where it came from. None of her sisters or Darla had been so reticent.

Picking up the pace of her step, Eileen approached the duo. Sachin was patiently instructing Prajeet on how to tie his shoe. When they were steps away, Eileen lifted a hand and called, "Sachin!"

The man paused and lifted his head. He turned his face in the direction of her voice and nodded. "Oh, Eileen!" he returned with a smile. His eyes then caught sight of her twins. "And… Eileen's children, hello."

She placed her hands on her son and daughter's backs. "These two are my twins, Carrie and Marcus." Sachin started to look around and Eileen felt pleased. He remembered she had another child. "Their little brother is at home with their father."

Sachin nodded. "Ah."

Eileen turned her gaze to Prajeet. The boy had his mother's (and aunt's) small, round mouth. "I see you have Prajeet with you today," she said as he peered up at her. She took her hand off Carrie's back to offer it to the boy. "Good afternoon Prajeet, I'm Eileen Belby."

Prajeet ducked behind his cousin, fingers fisting in Sachin's light spring robe. "Uncle…"

Her old classmate winced. "Sorry, he's a bit shy."

She chuckled. "Oh, no worries," she replied, fingers dancing up her son's spine to rest at the nape of his neck. She squeezed it lightly and said, "I've met plenty of introverted children." To the little boy still hiding, she assured, "It's okay you don't want to shake hands, Prajeet. Just know it's a pleasure to meet you properly."

To no one's surprise, Prajeet stayed hidden behind Sachin. Scrubbing a hand over his still stubble-ridden chin, Eileen's old classmate asked her, "What has brought you to Old Edinburgh?"

Eileen smiled and answered, "Esther." At Sachin's raised eyebrows, she elaborated, "It's her birthday tomorrow and my husband said she's working at the location here today."

A grin spread across his square face and he barked a laugh. "Ah, so you're surprising her!"

"A little bit!" she agreed. Glancing at her bored children, she explained, "I thought she'd enjoy us popping in to take her to lunch for a small celebration together."

"Lucky witch," replied Sachin, grin having settled into a smaller smirk.

Eileen hummed. "What are you two doing today?" she asked. "Don't Mr. and Mrs. Patil live just outside London?"

They had at least when Padma and Parvati were students.

"Yeah," agreed Sachin. His hand disappeared behind his back and, likely, to the top of Prajeet's head. "I have the day off and made plans to see Priya and her kids," he explained. "I asked my aunt and uncle before I came up here if they'd let me take him with me to see his cousins."

Eileen felt relief. It seemed Sachin had listened to her at the funeral about what Prajeet would need from him. "I see. That was kind of you." She felt herself purse her lips as she tried to recall how old Priya's children were. She'd only glimpsed them at the funeral. They had definitely not been Hogwarts' aged. "How old are Priya's pair?"

"Beeja, Priya's daughter, turns eleven in a couple of months. Her son, Deshal, is eight."

Eileen paused at that. The girl was that old? She'd seemed younger. Priya's son too. "Ah, that's a little older than I thought they may be…"

"They're a bit on the small side," offered Sachin. He told her, "They take after their dad's family."

Eileen shrugged off the information. "No matter," she said. She smiled at the little boy she saw just peeking out around Sachin. It appeared to Eileen this part of their conversation had piqued his interest. "I'm sure they'll enjoy seeing you, Prajeet."

"I've never been to their house before," he admitted as he stepped out from behind Sachin.

"No?" said Eileen as Sachin pressed the boy against his side.

"Uh-huh!" replied Prajeet, shaking his head. "I used to just see them at Nana and Nani's house or, sometimes, Great-Aunt Zainab's home."

If Eileen followed, that meant the children were only really acquainted through their grandparents previously. She looked at Sachin, who appeared to feel a little guilty. Eileen wondered if he felt that way because he thought Prajeet should have been to his sister's home sooner. Maybe he thought if he reached out to his cousins after Padma's death, and before Parvati's, things would be different.

Maybe he was right. Or maybe he was wrong. It didn't matter anymore; what did was that Sachin was connecting with Prajeet now. This was what the boy would remember when he was their age:

When his aunt died, it didn't become just him and his grandparents. His cousin, his uncle Sachin, stepped up in his life and made sure he knew Prajeet would always have more family, not less. Prajeet would have learned he was never alone.

"Mum," complained Carrie. "Aunt Esther's lunch will start soon."

Both Eileen and Sachin looked at her daughter, recalling it was not just them and Prajeet. Her twins were here too. She cringed. "Sorry, sweet," she apologized. "We have gotten a little sidetracked, haven't we?"

Carried looked at her. "Yeah," she replied before crossing her eyes and turning her attention to some hawker across the street.

Sachin bent in, toward Eileen, offering a hand. "It's been nice seeing you, Eileen." Eileen bypassed Sachin's hand and hugged him. Briefly, he stilled before returning her embrace. After a moment, he pulled away, one of his hands lingering on her arm. "We probably ought to let you go," he said, expression lighter than it had been during their entire conversation. "I'd hate for you to miss your window to take Esther to lunch."

"Thank you, Sachin," she replied with a smile. Then, because she thought it might help Sachin and Prajeet, she suggested, "You should firecall the next time you have Prajeet." She then turned her attention to Prajeet and told him, "You're a little older than my youngest, but I think you and Anthony could have a nice time playing in our garden together."

The boy's eyes widened and he gave his uncle's robe a strong tug. "Uncle Prajeet!"

Sachin laughed. "Yes, yes, I'll be calling, don't worry," he assured the boy. Expression earnest, he said, "Thank you, Eileen."

Eileen nodded. "Of course," she said. Then, before taking her children's hands to lead them on to their intended destination, she concluded their impromptu chat with, "Have a nice time at your sister's, Sachin."

-o-O-o-

"Mummy, why are we dressing up?" Anthony asked as she helped him button the salmon-colored shirt she had chosen for him to wear.

When she finished with the last button before Anthony's collar, Eileen leaned back and gave him a slightly strained smile. "We're going to see your aunt Lottie and grandfather, Sev," she explained.

Anthony stared at her for a moment, little face scrunched. "…I thought they were dead?" he said finally, uncertainty clear in his tone.

Eileen nodded. "They are." Moving on to her son's hair, she ignored his squirming as she ran her fingers through it, smoothing his fringe. "But when people die, there is a place we put them to rest and we'll be visiting there."

"Oh," replied Anthony. He looked at his clothes and pulled on his shirt. "How come we're dressing up?"

Eileen hummed as she stood up and went to gather her son's socks from where she'd laid them out on the bed. "Come here," she said. Anthony bounced onto his bed and stuck out one of his feet for her to put his sock on it. As Eileen did, she said, "It's the respectful thing to do for those who have gone before us."

Anthony squinted at her as she readjusted his trouser's leg. "Will they see us?" he asked as she began rolling the last sock up his other foot.

Eileen paused and blinked, incredulous, at Anthony. "Will they—" she stopped and laughed. The questions three-year-olds came up with! "No, your aunt and grandfather are buried beneath the ground. What we will be visiting is a stone with their names," she told her son.

The answer brought a frown to her son's face and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Dressing up is stupid! 'Specially when they can't see us, Mummy!"

Eileen lost her good humor immediately. She was not going to argue about this with her son. This was how she visited Lottie (and later, Sev) long before her children or even Marcus came into the picture. It was Eileen's ritual and since she did this only twice a year, bringing her family only to one visit, they could humor this small idiosyncrasy of hers.

She wrapped her hands around Anthony's ankles, just a touch harder than necessary, to make him look at her. When she had her son's full attention, she declared, "This is what we do when we visit." Eileen narrowed her eyes, making sure her son understood she was being very serious and if he whined, there would be consequences. "You will not change my mind about this, Anthony."

He lost his mulish look and averted his eyes. "Fine."

Eileen sighed and let his ankles go. Reaching up, she tapped his lower lip, which jutted out slightly. "Don't pout. It's only once a year we go, my sweet."

Anthony sighed again, but lost his pout. "Okay."

She reached out and pulled Anthony into her arms before she stood up, putting him on her hip. "We'll be buying flowers for them both and an acid pop for Lottie." As they left Anthony's bedroom, she rested her head on the crown of her son's head. "If you are very good I might buy you and your siblings a box of Bott's to share."

He made a small noise of delight before his small arms snaked around her neck and squeezed it. "Love you, Mummy!"

Eileen rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes," she said, patting his back. "Let's go find your shoes, hm?"

-O-

After they crested a small knoll in the graveyard, the Snape family grave came into sight. It was a wide, slate grey stone with her maiden name etched in bold letters at the top of the grave. Beneath it, was her father's name and middle initial with his birth and death year underneath.

Below her father's name and a little to the right, to center it, was Lottie's name and middle initial. Like with their father, her birth and death year was also under her name. Additionally, there was an etching of a lamb beneath that. The space to the right and above Lottie's name was empty. Someday, Eileen, her sisters, and Darla would have Edie's name placed there.

Eileen did not look forward to that day.

Reaching the grave, Eileen knelt down in front of it, her husband and children still stood behind her. "Hello Lottie, Sev," she murmured. Reaching out, she traced their names and said, "I know we usually visit a bit closer to our birthday, Lottie, but this year has been a bit hectic."

She looked over her shoulder and reached out to her husband, who held a bouquet of white lilies and blue forget-me-nots in his hands. Marcus handed them off without any further prompting. "I have lilies for you, Sev," she said as she put them in the small vase attached to the base of the grave. "You as well, Lottie, but I added Forget-Me-Nots to the bouquet this year too." She smiled as she finished fluffing the bouquet in the vase. "I've been looking a lot at the locket as of late and it felt fitting."

"Mum, don't forget her acid pop!" her older son huffed behind her.

Eileen turned and laughed. Her son's cheeks were puffed out and he was holding the lollipop out for her in his fist. "You're right, thank you, Marcus," she replied as she took it from him. Carefully, Eileen placed it in front of the bouquet of flowers. "I got you an acid pop too, Lottie." Standing back up, she dusted the grass and dirt from her trousers and remarked, "Though, I never understood why you liked them so much."

Carrie's hand slipped into her own. She looked down to see her daughter's eyes were large and insistent. "Mum, you should tell her that Thalia likes them too."

Eileen pet her daughter's head. "Why don't you tell her, Carrie?"

"Really?" she asked. Then, she smiled and stepped forward. "Okay! Hi, um, Aunt Lottie. You're not strange, okay? Your niece Thalia got an acid pop when we were all at Honeydukes with Grandma last weekend and she really loved it!" Finished, she turned back around to face Eileen and the rest of their family. Her expression satisfied, she proclaimed, "There!"

Eileen reached out for her daughter and pulled her against her side. "Thank you, Carrie," she said. Then, to conclude their family visit, she told her father and sister's grave, "Sev, Lottie, I have missed you, as I always do. I hope you're happy together wherever you may be and know that we all love you."

Her husband gave their boys each a nudge. "Say goodbye, kids."

"Bye Grandpa, Aunt Lottie!" Anthony dutifully said. Carrie and Marcus echoed him and then, her daughter slipped from her hold to join her brothers who were already retreating toward the front of the graveyard.

Another moment later, it was just Marcus in speaking distance. His eyes were watchful as he asked, "Eileen, are you ready to leave?"

She shook her head. She wasn't. Eileen wanted another minute with them, another minute to try and recall their smiling faces. "Go ahead. I'd like to just… Stay a minute more."

"Of course," he said. Marcus then ducked close and pressed a kiss to her temple. "We'll meet you at the gate, my love."

Feelings on this chapter? Any favorite parts?

Thanks so much for reading!