I may be in different form,
Although I am the same,
Disguised in a surname, I am born,
What is in a name?
# # #
England...
The blue Corvette zipped through the dirt roads, whirling up a large cloud of brown dust as it did so. Susan wasn't entirely sure what the speed limit was through these parts, but she was sure that her mother was going about fifty miles over it.
Stretching as far away from the leather interior as possible, Susan reached over the windshield to feel the wind whistle through her fingers. The weather was very warm, and the sky was almost as blue as the car itself, so it had been voted that the top of the car be put down, even if it meant black curls whipping in Susan's face.
Susan's mother seemed to be enjoying the ride about as much - if not more - than Susan was herself. With one hand her mother steered the car, and with the other, she thumped on the side of the blue plating, as if urging it to go faster.
"I haven't seen these people in over ten years!" Susan's mother yelled over the din that the wind was making. "Not since your father deemed it necessary we move to Canada!"
Susan groaned. Her mother and father had recently been divorced, and the bitterness of it all was rather overwhelming to Susan's ten-year-old self.
"Let's not think of that," Susan shouted in reply, "I want to meet your friends!"
Susan's mother grinned largely, reached down to put the car in a higher gear, and zoomed down the road. She was one of the few, the proud, the Hogwarts alumni. Susan was also a witch, but she hadn't started her training yet. Her mother had been assuring her that she would get into Hogwarts also, and that they would be househunting soon so they could live near the area.
The car was at its breaking limits and the world blurred together as Susan's curls felt like they would be pulled straight out of their roots. She whooped with delight as her mother giggled helplessly.
"We're almost there," she cried to her daughter. Susan bounced in her leather seat.
"Faster, Mommy, faster!"
Susan's mother was only too happy to oblige.
# # #
The Party Room of the Leaky Cauldron...
Carolyn sighed as she speared a cherry in her drink with a toothpick. Grownup parties could get very boring, she had decided. Nobody else had brought his or her children yet, as almost nobody had been there. She thrust her Shirley Temple to the side and watched the people there chat.
Her little brother, Rob, walked up to her and looked down. "Bored?" he asked in an innocent voice. Carolyn sneered at him and pushed her drink to the side again so viciously that it tipped over. Red liquid spilt all over the place.
"Bored," she said roughly, "is an understatement." She put her head down on the table that she sat at, as Rob produced a handkerchief and began to attempt to sop up the carbonated mess.
"You could go and try to make conversation with some of the adults," Rob suggested, wringing out his cherry-stained handkerchief. Carolyn looked at him.
"You would go and do that, wouldn't you, Robert?" she asked in an accusing voice that one might use to address an axe murderer. Rob shrugged and pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"It's more interesting than moping, I can assure you," he said, watching as a servant came over. With a flick of his wand, the red mess was gone. He leaned over to Carolyn.
"Beverage, miss?" he asked. Carolyn shook her head.
"No."
The waiter turned his face to Rob. "For you, young sir?"
"I could use a butterbeer, if you please," Rob replied politely. The waiter picked up an empty silver platter, twirled it on his index finger three times, and bent down to Rob. There was a bottle of butterbeer, a bottle-opener, and a frosted glass on the formerly empty platter. Rob took the butterbeer can and twirled the top off with his hands. He put the bottlecap back on the tray and nodded to the servant.
"I don't need the glass, if you please." The waiter nodded and walked off. Rob took a pull of the butterbeer, eyeing his sister. "Please don't call me Robert," he said with perfect nonchalantness. "I despise being called by my full name." He walked off into the crowd, and Carolyn grunted and put her head back between her hands.
# # #
Metro Airport...
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not, did not, did not!"
"Did too, did too, did too!"
"Did not times infinity!"
"Did too times infinity and one!"
"Did not times infinity and two!"
"There is no such thing as infinity and two!"
"Oh, and there is such a thing as infinity and one?!"
"You can't even use infinity in an argument! It's not logical!"
"Logical my-"
"What in the name of thunder is going on here?" roared a man, lugging two large suitcases behind him. The two squabbling children pointed at each other.
"Grace stole my pencil!"
"Gerald's lying! I wouldn't steal that ratty pencil if my life depended upon it!"
"Would too!"
"Would not!"
"Would-"
"If everybody doesn't shut up this instant, I am going to introduce everybody to the back of my hand!" a woman yelled, toting a makeup case. The two children fell silent. They knew that their mother was only kidding, but the airlines put her in a bad mood, and that wasn't fun for anybody.
"Sorry, Grace," muttered the boy.
"Ditto, Gerald," the girl mumbled.
"That's better," their father crooned to his offspring, looking at an airport personnel, who looked rather frightened. "Where are the rental muggl- I mean, rental cars, good sir?"
"Down that hallway to the left," the man in uniform squeaked. The man nodded.
"Thank you. Kids, grab a bag and let's go."
There was a brief but silent squabble over who got the lighter bag, the foursome tromped down the crowded airport terminal, pushing their way through the myriad of people. Gerald leaned over and whispered in his sister's ear.
"Mum is suffering from some serious PMS."
Grace giggled and nodded. They walked past a couple in terminal 3A, who were kissing intently. "PDA alert!" she hissed back at her brother, discreetly motioning to the couple. Gerald chuckled softly.
There is much to entertain a body who ever cares to stop and take a look around a muggle airport, the twins noticed immediately. People running from the airplanes into lover's arms; the cult members ragging people for money, the people trying to get bumped from their flights in exchange for free hotel time and coupons. They took this all in, until they turned into a small booth that said 'National Car Rental' across the top. A short, greasy looking man that was filing his nails looked up. His mouth widened in a put-on smile.
"Welcome to National Car Rental. You have made the very best choice in fine car rental..."
The twins' mother lost her temper. She slammed her free hand, palm down upon the countertop, making the man jump. "Cut the crap. We need a car, and we need it now," she spat.
After a near two hours of haggling and picking lint off of their sweaters, the twins were beginning to get impatient. Grace moaned.
"How long can it take to rent a car?" she asked. Gerald was preoccupied by watching an ant slowly crawl its way across the seat of his chair, so he didn't respond.
Finally, their parents burst through the door, looking triumphant and carrying keys in their hands. Gerald leapt out of the chair.
"What car did you get? Is it a sports car?" he asked excitedly. His parents exchanged sideways looks.
"Not exactly," his father said finally.
When they made their way out to the large parking lot, Gerald was much dismayed to find that the car was not a Corvette or a Mustang, but a very old, somewhat tarnished, beige Ford Taurus. He wailed.
"Aw, Ma, couldn't you get anything other than that?" he whimpered, looking at the axles of the car, which looked like they would fall into two at any moment. His mother scowled.
"It's a car, and we can drive it. Get in." Gerald thought better than to argue.
The ride was a long one. The car didn't seem to be able to function properly over the speed of fifty, and the radio didn't work. What made it worse was that it smelt like somebody's old gym bag. The entire family was enveloped in stony silence.
"I can't wait until we get there," their mother said wistfully.
"Neither can I," Grace and Gerald chorused in a whisper.
# # #
Sherry Ville, 173 Shady Lane...
"Are you sure that you don't need help?" the voice asked for the millionth time.
Helen scowled. She whirled around and placed her hands on her hips, facing the voice. "Mother, I swear. I'm not an invalid. I can take care of myself." It was at this time she whirled around too fast and lost her balance. A pair of strong, firm hands grasped her and kept her from falling headfirst into the garden.
Pride hurt; Helen shook her mother off, and felt her way to the door expertly. Even though she couldn't see it, she heard her mother sigh briefly, walk around to the side of the van, and insert the key into the lock. The unlocking sound sounded, and Helen sat down, shut the door, and grabbed the seatbelt with the precision of practice. She fitted the clip into the slot that held the seatbelt, heard the click, and tugged at it gently to make sure it locked. Folding her hands in her lap, she waited.
"Christopher, sweetie, come on!" her mother called from the window. Helen smiled. She loved the sound of her mother's voice. So melodic.
"Coming, Mummy!" her little brother called. Little footsteps clattered on the pavement, the door opened, and Helen heard her brother's ragged breaths - he had been running. The seatbelt clicked, and her mother started the ignition. The sensation of movement swept Helen over as they backed out of the driveway. They stopped - Helen felt the engine gutter - and went forward. After a few moments, Helen cocked her head to the side, and turned her head in the direction of her mother.
"Mum, what's out there?"
Helen's sensitive ears heard the squeak of the rearview mirror as her mother adjusted it, and the affectionate sigh that rattled from her lips. "I see rows of houses in all colors - creamy blue, rough brick, Slytherin green..."
"Slytherin green?" she asked. Her mother laughed.
"It's a very dark green, almost black in some respects."
Helen nodded sagely. "Evil green?"
There was a short lull in the conversation as her mother considered. "In some respects, yes. But even in the midst of that, there are some good people. One of them was one of my best friends during school. Sarcastic, yes. Cutting, sometimes. Loyal, yes. In her own way, she was almost... oh, well, you'll meet her soon."
Helen smiled. She had heard the tale many times. She had read it in the textbooks, heard about in the movies. It gave her unspeakable pride to think that she was related to one of those 'fabled four' as they were often called. She was ready to meet the other three of this quartet. She also wanted to meet the often forgotten 'fifth wheel', also known as Samantha Chenelle Bronxton.
Helen settled back into the comfy plush of the van, and shut her eyes. The smooth movement of the van, and her mother's driving were enough to ease her into sleep.
# # #
The Leaky Cauldron...
The Ford Taurus rattled into the parking lot of the Leaky Cauldron. There was a huge crowd of people waiting, and the most of them turned their noses up at the sight of a ratty muggle car. Gerald and Grace scuttled out of the car as fast as the unbuckling of seatbelts and opening of doors would allow them.
The old van glided into the parking lot after that. The automobile gave a tired, patient sigh as it rumbled to a stop. Christopher leapt out of the side door and waited for his mother. Helen followed, a bit slower, and then placed a hand on the side mirror of the car, to gain her rights to the place. Her mother followed her, getting Helen (much to her grumbles and complaints) to place a hand on her forearm so she wouldn't stumble.
Lastly, the blue Corvette screeched in, leaving black tire tracks, and a smell of singed rubber to hang in the air. Gerald squeaked and ran over to it.
Gently pressing his hands against the blue plating, he dropped to his feet and rubbed his cheek against the warm car. "Oh, a 2018 Corvette, leather interior, ABS brakes, horsepower more that I could ever count... oh, hum to me, girl."
He was soon aware of two raven-haired women looking good-naturedly at him. "Like the car, kid?" asked the older girl.
Gerald blushed hotly and clasped his hands behind his back. He was too embarrassed to say anything, so he just nodded.
"Maybe I'll give you a spin in 'er later. Right now I've got to..."
"Sarah?!" an ecstatic voice screeched from behind the black-haired woman's shoulder. Gerald peered around the woman to see his mother. "Sarah Slytherin, you old renegade, is that you?!"
"In the flesh," the woman replied giddily, leaping over the Corvette's door. "And if it isn't Gabriel Gryffindor. It's been so long," Sarah said, enveloping Gabriel in a hug. Grace came over.
"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to the woman that her mother was embracing. Gerald opened his mouth to answer, but his mother interrupted him.
"Aw, Sarah, these are my two little pain in the asses, Gerald and Grace Finnigan," she said. Sarah looked the twin brother and sister over. They were both spitting images of their mother, tan skin, with bright gold, slightly curly hair. The only difference was they had inherited their father's bright blue eyes.
"Kids," Gabriel went on, "this was arguably my best friend in Hogwarts, Sarah Slytherin."
The kids looked over the tall, almost spindly, gray-eyed woman. She had hair that curled so dramatically that it reminded them of black slinkys.
"Gerald and Grace, eh?" Sarah asked, looking them over sharply, but with a quasi-friendly look about her. She nodded at the Corvette, where a girl peered over the back of the seat at them.
She looked a lot like her mother, with black hair, but the hair wasn't as curly - just very full. Her skin was a few tones darker, and she had bright green eyes as opposed to the gray ones of her dam.
"I could only handle one of 'em," Sarah said, winking at her daughter while she stuck out her tongue at her mother. "That's 'me girl, Susan Harrisfer."
Gabriel wrinkled her nose and looked around the Corvette. "Where is your husband?" It was evidently a sore spot, because Sarah snorted and her gray eyes turned to gunmetal.
"That asshole? Don't get me started."
"Don't worry, I won't."
"Sarah, do you still get your kicks out of making other people look bad?" a voice asked.
Sarah stiffened a tad, smiling. "It's my prime source of enjoyment." She turned around. "Hayley."
Though a little older, and a little wider, Hayley's bright green eyes smiled at them all from behind a pair of glasses. Her wavery copper locks had been twisted and pinned in a bun, and she adjusted her spectacles with her free hand. On her other arm was a girl.
The girl stood rather stiffly, before reaching out a hand timidly to touch the warm car where everybody had conjugated. She had light; straight brown hair that did not come from her mother that sat primly at her shoulderblades. Her eyes were a very vivid blue, but they seemed more smoky - it was like looking at two sapphires through an early-morning haze. Everybody looked at her quizzically, before the girl spoke.
"My name is Helen," she said clearly, noting the sudden, confused silence that had fallen on their part of the party. "And if you didn't notice already, I'm also blind."
This only caused more silence on everybody else's part, before Gabriel reached out and took Helen's hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Helen."
Helen steadied herself on Gabriel's strong fist, and reached up cautiously towards her face. With sensitive fingertips she ran her hand over the bridge of Gabriel's nose, her hair, and face. She did the same with Sarah when she introduced herself and with Susan, Grace, and Gerald.
"This is my younger son, Christopher," Hayley went on. The little boy shyly hid his head in his mother's robes, mumbling into the cloth, probably his hellos.
"It's about time you showed up," a high-pitched voice said, "Robert's been going nearly insane for hours."
Sarah whirled around, to come face-to-face with a woman with very blonde hair and brown eyes. She was smiling good-naturedly at them all, and Sarah raised her eyebrows.
"Sorry, but you don't really ring a bell in my mind-"
"Hannah Abbot, that's you isn't it?" Hayley said, cutting Sarah off. Sarah looked rather reproachful, and snapped her jaw shut resentfully at being interrupted.
"Hannah Ravenclaw now, if you get my drift," Hannah said, winking. Gabriel clapped a hand over her mouth, as well as Sarah.
"You're joking," Gabriel said disbelievingly. Hannah shook her head.
"Nope."
Sarah, once again, looked reproachful, though more than before. "Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?! The last one I got invited to was Gabriel's!"
Hannah blushed slightly. "Sincere apologies, Shana..."
"It's Sarah," Sarah snapped.
"Sarah. We couldn't locate you... you had left England."
"I moved to Canada, because my git of a husband's job moved. I thought I told everybody that!"
"Yes, Sarah dearest," Gabriel interjected, rubbing her temples, as all adults do when they get annoyed, "but you neglected to tell us exactly where you were in Canada. It's not like it's a small place, you know."
Sarah's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Finally, she shut her jaws, blushing uncomfortably. "Well, I guess I did forget that minor detail." It was at this that everybody burst into peels of laughter.
"If only I knew what was so funny."
"Oh, Robert, over here!" Hannah called, waving a hand. A short while later, Robert strode up, flanked by two children.
Robert looked nearly the same as he did ten years ago, with the slight change of the additional two feet of height. He was tall.
"It's good to see everybody," he said, smiling. Sarah gaped for a moment, before rolling her eyes in the back of her head.
"Oh, and it's good to see you too," she said, looking up at him. "Give me a hug, you oversized human dictionary."
He was rather forced to comply, because Sarah, while shorter than Robert, was nonetheless quite strong.
Once the embraces were done, Robert nodded to his children. "These are Carolyn and Robert II. Carol, Rob, these are Sarah, Hayley, Gabriel and Sarah. I'm sure you've heard of them before.."
After everybody had been introduced to each other for a fourth time, the adults wandered off to find their other friends, while the children sat in the Corvette, looking at each other.
"So," Susan said, feeling rather uncomfortable, "how is everybody?"
It was a lame way to start a conversation, and she knew it, but nobody else could think of anything to say.
"I'm fine," Rob said, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
"Pretty good," Helen said, grasping at the shift of the vehicle.
"Bored," chorused Grace and Gerald. Everybody giggled nervously.
There was more silence in the back of the car, before Susan recognized her mother's voice again: "Draco? Malfoy? Is that you? My God, I thought you were your father!"
There was a humming of amusement at this, and Susan blushed slightly.
"Is she always like that?" Grace asked, looking at Susan, who blushed deeper.
"What?"
"Your mum," Gerald picked up, "she's completely nuts!"
"What's it to you?" Susan asked, temper starting to flare. Helen sighed quietly.
"Oh, do shut up," she said, "it's not worth getting all angry about."
Rob, feeling rather dismayed, leaned back against the steering wheel, and put his hand over the dashboard. He didn't seem to notice that Sarah had accidentally left the keys in the ignition. His hand brushed over the radio button, and he switched it on.
Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Jonnie Ray,
South Pacific, Walter Winchell Joe DiMaggio...
Rob nearly leapt three feet in the air. "Who is that?!" he yelled over to Susan. Susan shouted something back, but he couldn't hear it over the next verse in the song.
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, Television,
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe....
"What?" he shouted over the din of the music. He distinctly saw Susan roll her eyes in the back of her head before she shouted again.
"It's Billy Joel!"
Rosenbergs, H-Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom,
Brando, The King and I and the Catcher in the Rye...
"I don't get it," Helen yelled, clapping her hands over her sensitive ears. "What's it about?"
"Stuff that's happened over the years," Susan hollered. "If you listen, you'd be able to figure it out!"
Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen,
Marciano, Liberace, Santayanna,
Goodbye...
"Those darn kids!" Gabriel shouted, looking down at Sarah. "Sarah, should I tell them to get out of your car? Sarah?"
Sarah appeared too busy at the moment to care - she was jumping rope with some of the kids of the people they knew, and her old friend, Essex. She turned around to Gabriel and stuck out her tongue.
"I can jump better than yoooou caaaaan!" she taunted as her feet skipped over the rope.
"I swear, Sarah, when are you going to grow up?" Gabriel asked. Sarah just smiled.
"Whenever you do, Gabby. Come on!"
But Gabriel needed no second urging. Much to the delight of the children that were turning the rope, Gabriel leaped in, and the magical rope expanded to compensate for her jumping distance.
Robert and Hayley were watching them with interest. "You know what, Hayley?" Robert asked, helping himself to a cherry cordial.
"What?"
"The more things change, the more they stay the same, you know?" he said, pointing to Sarah and Gabriel, who were trying to outjump each other.
Back in the Corvette, the song that Billy Joel was singing was a very long one, so the five of them were screaming the reprise at the top of their lungs, just adding to the noise of the party, which had since moved outside.
We didn't start the fire,
It was always burning,
Since the world's been turning,
We didn't start the fire,
No, we didn't light it,
But we tried to fight it...
"Look at that," Hayley said, pointing over to the car, where the five children were belting out the song.
"That looks familiar," Sarah said, red faced from jumproping.
Gabriel sighed. "I think it's going to be a long year for them."
Robert laughed. "A long year for them? What do you think, being the heirs of the heirs?"
We didn't start the fire,
It was always burning,
Since the world's been turning on us,
We didn't start the fire,
But when we are gone,
Will it burn on, and on, and on, and on...?
A/N: Well... sorry it's so slow. It should pick up later, hopefully. And no, I haven't forgotten about Chenelle/Samantha, so be patient!
~Moxie ^_^
Disclaimer: 'We didn't start the fire' belongs to Billy Joel. Every character or name that appears in the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling, and everybody else belongs to me. Okay? Good. ^_^