Episode Ninety Seven

Part One

            Having said all she could say, Gwen left Hogwarts the next day. She knew that whether or not she wanted to stay there was of little importance, it was simply the wrong place for her to be. Something in the vision told her that her place would be in France, for just now, for a little while. Ann needed her.

            Graves packed up his bags and said goodbye as well. He had no desire to stay at Hogwarts any longer, not without Gwen. He transfigured himself just enough so no one would recognize him until he could learn exactly how to become an animagus. If Gwen could do it, he felt certain that he could as well. Of course he wouldn't register, so that he could travel with Gwen as an animal, preferably a cat so he would blend in with Lucille, whom he had been caring for in Gwen's absence.

            They moved into a spare room in Ann's tidy little house, attempting to share the feelings that had passed over them both for the last couple of days.

            Gwen could hardly put into words what she had experienced and seen, the tiny glimpse she had of the future seemed like a gigantic puzzle she had to fit together. There was much about her own life intertwined with threads of others' lives and she had to weave them together so that she could see the whole picture. What she had described to Dumbledore had been scraps and pieces of information that didn't seem unified, but he understood it far better than she supposed. He knew which way the wind was blowing and it was not blowing sweetly.

            Graves could only tell her how fearful he felt during the dark time she spent in the infirmary alone, howling on the inside, silent on the surface. He had wanted so desperately to be there with her, but he had suffered the helplessness quietly, in a wooden chair, uncloaked and wearing his pain for all the world to see.

            Over the space of two weeks they communicated delicately and as much as they felt they should, which is never nearly enough. Ann avoided these moments they shared with deft ability. She was a witch after all and simply being so had imparted to Ann a kind of empathic ability. She gave them the space they needed and little by little got to know and understand the man who had faked his death, and to better know the girl she called niece.

Part Two

            The French countryside seemed marvelous to Gwen after the constant gloom of Britain. It was refreshing to run and laugh out doors, the fear of the wizarding community had not yet reached this far. She spent much time out of doors, lazing on the lawn of Ann's house, which sat mid-way between the true country and the urban glamour of the city of Reims.

            Gwen had been frolicking outdoors when something caught her attention. She stood transfixed by the shadow of a tree on the paved over grass, just outside the house. The sun was falling just so, in an inexplicable pattern of light and dark. It had been woven expertly by the fey in a tangle of curves and lines, jagged edges and smooth corners. It was so painstakingly beautiful in such a random universe that you couldn't just walk by it. It would stop you, whatever you were about to do forgotten. It was simply something that had to be appreciated for its unique beauty, for the next day it would be gone and replaced by a new shadow, changed by space and time forever. The fact that it was only there for a short time in an ever changing world is what made her want to just stand there and absorb its stark profile. It was like looking at the soul of the tree, exposed by the angle of the sun.

            Yet being human (or at least partly so) didn't afford one all the time in the world to simply enjoy the majesty of nature. She had bills to pay, a stomach to feed, certain tasks to be accomplished. She shrugged at the weight of the world tugging at her shoulders. It didn't seem to help, trying to shirk her duties. She turned her back on the gorgeous tree shadow and wandered inside to find Graves.

            He was sitting at the kitchen table, sharing an impromptu cup of tea with Ann. Gwen smiled at the beautiful picture they made, sitting quietly, enjoying the silence they created together. Graves looked up nervously, he knew that Ann was aware that he was supposed to be dead and he knew that she would never tell anyone that she was his safe harbor for the time being, but he still didn't know how to act around her.

            Gwen joined them, taking a clean cup from the dish drainer and filling it with cold coffee from the morning's pot. The conversation was light until Gwen brought up the topic of her possible father again.

            She had relayed to Ann several nights ago why she had left so abruptly, trying to explain her urgent desire to confront Snape, her moment of craziness when she thought he might be her father finally catching up to her and how it had turned out to be nothing in the end.

            "I just don't know why my mother never said anything to me." Gwen said quietly.

A thin line appeared in Ann's smooth face. She didn't look as old as she felt. "Why do you think she never told you Gwen? She was never certain. She didn't want to tell you something she was unsure of."

Gwen stared at the floor. Graves stared at his hands. Ann was staring into her tea cup.

"Why is it so important for you to know?" She asked sincerely.

"I want to know what I came from." Gwen replied. No one looked up and silence reigned supreme over the kitchen table for several minutes.

Finally Ann spoke again, shocking the silence and causing everyone to look up, blinking confused. "You were raised by two people who loved you. And as for your father, you know that even if Henry wasn't he wanted to be. Guenivere, sometimes the past is best left with those who are buried."

"I know. I just, I need to know who he really was."

"And I don't blame you for wanting to know. But the moment you find out what you've been searching for your entire reality is going to be altered Guenivere. Everything you know will change."

With Ann's prophetic words still ringing in her ears Gwen stepped outside and hugged the trunk of the tree she had been so taken with earlier. Graves stepped up behind her cautiously. His arm wrapped around her waist and he looked out on the sunny afternoon filled with apprehension.

"You're not going to stop until you find out who, are you?"

"No." Gwen laughed with the kind of humor that brings with it an honest ache. "I want to know if he was my dad and I want to know if he wasn't then who is and is he alive. I want to know why I don't feel satisfied right now with life when I have most everything I want. I want to know why I can't feel and be like everyone else."

Graves sighed into her hair and kissed her sweetly. "Then you know what you have to do."

They remained so, holding onto the tree and each other until the sun set hours later. That night, Gwen's bags were packed again and she was heading back to her mother's house. There was a box that needed to be opened, and she was going to find a way to do it.