'"Wretch," I cried, "Thy God hath lent
thee--by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy
memories of Lenore,
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and
forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."'
The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe (also not mine)
Hermione Granger knocked on #18 Ash Lane one Saturday afternoon in Reading. Her brown hair was tamed in a French plait and she wore a muggle t-shirt and jeans. Hermione rang the bell a second time and waited as the door opened.
James Edwards stood there, holding the door open with his good hand. His golden wavy hair framed his slender face, and he wore a soft charcoal gray t-shirt, with faded blue jeans and his sling. On his left side was a home fashioned sling, which held a sleeping child. "You must be Hermione, the babysitter."
"Yes, you're James?"
"Of course. And this bundle is Patrick." He indicated, pulling a tiny hand out from the blankets. The hand curled into a fist around his right pointer finger, which caused him to flinch with the pressure. "Enough Trick, that's the broken one. Well, introductions having been made, would you care to come in off the doorstep?"
He brought her in through the foyer. "This way to the kitchen. Or have you been here before?"
"Once, a long time ago," she said, steadying the book bag on her shoulder.
Grace came into the kitchen, where James had brought Hermione, and she pulled Patrick from his sleeping place, and headed into the nursery. "Give me a hand, James?"
"Of course, Grace. Hermione."
Liam entered the kitchen shortly thereafter, and greeted Hermione. "How are you doing, dear? School going okay?"
She hoped he didn't see her tearing up. "Well, Mr. O'Brien," she began, forcing a smile on her face. "I needed the holiday from school desperately." Liam always reminded her of Seamus Finnegan, with his musical Irish brogue.
"Don't we all from time to time, dear. Well, we're taking James to get a haircut, some new clothes, then dinner. We ought to be back by nine and there's food in the pantries if you get hungry. Unless he needs something, Patrick ought to sleep rather well. James is excellent at putting him to sleep and Grace and I have gotten more sleep in the past week than we have in the past 6 months. There are times that I don't know how we ever managed without him. An excellent big brother to Patrick," he said, pacing the kitchen, trying to remember everything about what he needed to tell her.
"Anything else, Mr. O'Brien?"
"Yes. Grace will be carrying a pager in case you need anything. The number is by the phone. There's a baby monitor that I just put in the telly room for you. I think that's about all, Hermione."
James reentered the room. "Well, Hermione, he's asleep, freshly changed, and fed before you came. Let me show you where we keep the formula." He opened the icebox and showed her what to do with the ease of a professional.
As he replaced one of the bottles in the cupboard, she saw the pale scars on his left wrist. Following her eyes, he quickly withdrew his hand and looked back at her. "Yes?"
"Nothing. Sorry?"
"Whatever. Anyways. If he won't go to sleep, say 'Somnio'. It usually helps. I don't know why," he said, shrugging.
Hermione nodded, and waved as the trio left. Sighing, she closed the door, and walked back to the living room. Turning up the baby monitor, she opened her back and pulled out a book: (The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5).
Forcing herself to focus less on what had gone on that previous June, she studied as always and wrote a letter to Ron, advising him to start studying for OWLs already. She wrote a second letter, to Harry, in which she told him that she was worrying about him, and gently asked him how he was.
Her eye fell on the open book, where she looked at the spell named 'The Somnius Charm'. For the peaceful sleep of children and those in need of calming. Also thought to cure colic. Word used: 'Somnio.'
As Hermione lived in #16 Ash Lane, she saw James quite frequently during the months of July and August. But she never brought herself to ask him how he knew a spell that was so advanced that she hadn't covered it in class yet. Or why he had those scars on his arm.
One day, he was walking with Patrick under the trees near the Granger's house as their Land Rover pulled up. Hermione jumped out of the back seat, as Mrs. Granger left the driver's seat. "James!" Hermione shouted to get his attention.
"Hey Hermione," he said, with a touch of an Irish brogue, probably gained by Liam's influence. "You went on a trip?"
"No. Just picking up a friend from school. We're leaving for London in a few days, so we can get some things done before school starts," she said, moving closer to the hedge.
James shifted Patrick in his arms, to balance the weight a bit. "Ah. What's her name?"
A red-headed boy James' age came from the boot of the Land Rover pulling a trunk and a tan book bag.
"Um, I don't have any real girl friends in my year. This is Ron, one of my best friends. Ron, this is James Edwards, and the little tyke is Patrick O'Brien," she said, gesturing to each of the boys in turn. "James, did Grace kick you out again?"
"Very funny, Hermione," he said, rubbing the place by his eyes where the black eyeliner was irritating him. "Don't know why I forgot to laugh. Grace has appointments all day at the centre, and Liam's at a party fundraiser. So I got Patrick to myself all day. And watching the telly was far too damn depressing."
"So you're just sitting outside with an infant?" Hermione asked, smiling. "Tough guy you are."
"You know I have a soft spot where Trick is concerned." He smiled at them.
"Yeah, I do. Got any other plans for the day?"
"Yes. I plan to be bored out of my wits. So far it's working fairly nice."
"Well, we were going to take the bus to the department store downtown. Would you like to come?" she asked, tapping her foot a bit.
"Let me go call Grace. If I don't get out of this house, I am going to go crazy. She'll understand. Could you ask your mum to baby-sit for Trick?" James asked, thinking hard.
"Sure. Come on over when you hear about it, okay?" Hermione asked, giving Ron a hand with his trunk.
"Hermione, what's so interesting about this guy? You mentioned him in letters," Ron said as they walked toward her house.
"Not here, Ron. Let's take your stuff to the guest room."
Maybe 5 minutes later, James strode through the front door of the Granger's house, dressed in all black, even down to the black nail polish he had worn earlier. After the first time Hermione had seen his scars, he either wore long sleeves or leather wristcuffs, as he did today. In August, it had gotten too warm to wear black longsleeves, so he had bought a sleeveless rock band t-shirt and wore it with black jeans. He had hidden a CD player in the diaper bag that he carried, and was listening to loud harsh music when he reached the kitchen.
"Hello, Mrs. Granger. How are you?"
"I'm well, James. How's the arm?" She said, smiling and taking Patrick from his arms.
"Better. I should be completely fine by the time I head off to school. Just trying to work the strength back into it now," he said, shifting the CD player into his left hand, and setting down the diaper bag.
"When did you get that tattoo, James?"
"Oh. Long time ago." It was his blanket answer for when he really didn't remember.
"They're settling Ron in the guest room second door on the right. Go on in, James." She said, turning back to Patrick.
He walked to the room the two teens were in, and paused outside, listening.
A lamp clicked on. "And it just comes on, like that? Eckeltricity again?"
"Electricity, Ron, but yes."
"Ingenious what the Muggles have come up with, to get around having no magic. Dad would be fascinated by all this Muggle stuff. You know, living with it, not just looking at it," he said, in awe.
"Ron, while you're here, you really shouldn't mention magic or muggles. Take James for example. He doesn't have a clue about the Wizarding World, Dementors or You Know Who." Hermione paused. "He's perfectly happy."
"You know, private conversations are usually best conducted with the door closed," James said, half-smiling.
The two magical teens jumped. "Oh crap, James. How much did you hear?"
"Well, Eckeltricity, Muggles, magic, wizarding world, dementors and you-know-who. And I don't suppose those are magic wands that you two are holding at me?" James said, rather calmly under the circumstances.
"Ron, we are in so much trouble. This is against the muggle treatment codes. We have to get in touch with your father. The Ministry has to know," Hermione said, rubbing her temples.
"Bring the Obliviators here and I'll put a boot up your arse," James said suddenly, then shook his head. "Where the hell did that come from?"
They sat on the bus, drawing stares. James draped his body on the seats, getting comfortable, Ron sat as though he was in a high backed chair, and Hermione had sat across from them so that they could talk. James just left his headphones on, pretending that he couldn't hear the whispers. He also brought out his shades and glared back at those people who stared at him.
"James, it doesn't bother you that people are looking at you like that?" Ron asked quietly. "Our best friend hates it when people do that."
"Hold on a second, Ron. Ma'am, is there something wrong with my face?" he asked politely.
A middle-aged woman had been caught staring, and blushed crimson.
"Sorry. You were saying?"
"You sort of answered my question," Ron said, smiling.
"Well, to some point, it does, but even if you talk to them nicely, half will piss their pants," James said. "Took a bit for my mum, Grace, to explain that to me."
"So when do the papers come through?" Hermione asked.
"Oh. Next Wednesday, we go to court for the formal signing. Grace and Liam are so happy. And they insist that I dress in a suit and tie. Doesn't that suck?" James said, a small smile belying the words. "Then I become James Edward O'Brien."
"What are you doing with those things on your head?" Ron asked, confused.
"It's called a CD player, Ron. These things play music, and I can listen to them using these headphones. You wanna listen?" James asked, taking them off to hand them to Ron.
James turned up the music as Ron put them on, and Ron said rather loudly, "Wow, this is amazing…" before Hermione put her hand over his mouth. "James, what are you listening to?"
"Magic Carpet Ride, by Steppenwolf."
She looked slightly confused, but said, "Well, I haven't heard of them, but that's not saying much. I don't listen to much music."
"That much is certain," Ron said, returning the headphones. "She's a book person, if you hadn't guessed."
"Don't worry, I guessed. She's been helping me with my subjects ever since Liam decided to send me to St. Ignatius. He always said that he wouldn't trust another school with his children."
"Where's that?" Ron asked.
"I don't know. Somewhere in Northumberland, I think. But then again, we leave in less than a week," James said. "And they have a dress code," he added with a lisp.
Hermione smiled. "So does our school. But at least it's comfortable." She looked over her shoulder, as she had been turned around to face the boys. "This is our stop."
James stood up, gesturing to Ron. "So move already."
The three stepped out of the bus and found themselves in front of a huge storefront. James smiled, and exchanged greetings with three other Goths who were standing outside, smoking what Hermione hoped was a cigarette. James took a drag, and blew it out. "Good stuff, man," James replied, handing it back. "You guys remember Hermione?"
One of the boys recognized her and cuffed her on the shoulder gently. "Hi."
"This is her friend from boarding school, Ron," James continued.
"A co-ed boarding school? Nice. Wish I could go there," the tallest boy said.
James laughed. "Just cause you hate your school doesn't mean you can go to Scotland. Anyways, we're just headed inside. Any troubles?"
The third one spoke in an Australian accent, "Well, nothing as yet, but then again, we're waiting for Kevin."
"Crap. I thought Kevin was banned for life from the store, remember?" James said, rubbing his forehead.
The first boy tried to hand the cigarette to Ron. James put his hand up and moved his friend's hand away. "He doesn't want any. Well, we'd better get going. Got some stuff to buy before Kevin gets every one of us banned for life from the store," James said, guiding Ron and Hermione inside.
"I had forgotten that Kevin was out," James muttered.
"What did he do?"
"Oh, right. He was being escorted out of the place after the customers complained one day. He didn't go quietly," James said, moving inside. "Liam was one of the attorneys in the case. Defence, I think. Got 2 months."
"They ever do that to you?"
"No," James replied. "I'm too damn nice. Besides, I'm not here that often. And most of the people in this store know Grace, for the number of times she brought me here."
"Hey, James," a clerk called.
"Andrew. How's work treating you?"
"Can't complain. You need any help?"
"Yeah. If you see the security guards headed my way, give me a little time to run, okay? The last time, one of them nearly ripped my arm off before Grace found me," James said.
"Got it. Have a good day."
James waved.
"Why were you…?"
"Kevin's legacy and a woman who didn't like the look of me. But the management knows that my father is a lawyer, or the man who will be my father, at least. So they don't want a discrimination lawsuit on their hands," James said, moving them towards the women's clothing section.
"So, James, how did you know about the you know what's?"
"Oh, that," James said, holding up a shirt for Hermione. "I don't know. I actually don't remember anything before early July. Sometimes a word or a sight triggers a memory, but nothing major. Grace is beginning to get frustrated. Nothing seems to work, and she's tried hypnosis as well."
Hermione shook her head, but James pushed it at her anyways. "Try it on. Red is very much your color."
Ron smiled for some unknown reason, and she nodded. "Okay. I'll give it a shot."
"All I ask. Ron, you wanna make a suggestion?"
"Like what?" Ron hissed.
"Well, is she more like a girlfriend, or a sister?" James asked, sotto voce.
"I don't know," Ron said, nonplussed.
"Alright. So suggest a skirt in each type, then see what looks better on her," James said, smiling. "Time's a wasting, Ron. I know that she isn't attached at present."
"What about Viktor Krum?"
"What about him? I haven't heard anything about this Viktor guy. Just you and some guy named Harry, and she seemed really worried about him for some reason, but it ain't love," James confided.
Ron's face lit up. He pawed through a rack or two, and came up with a suggestion that James would definitely have placed in the 'girlfriend' category.
Hermione blushed, but took the clothes and went to the changing rooms.
"She's a bit of a social butterfly. But only when she's in the right company," James said, looking in the black section for Hermione.
"James, what do you remember?" Ron asked.
"Not much. Not even my name. And from what I have pieced together of my life, I don't know that I want to remember. Too many scars, too many beatings," James said, wincing at the memory. He ran his hand through his short, but still blonde hair. "But now, I have two parents who love me unconditionally, and quite over protectively. I have a little brother, who I absolutely adore. And even though I am leaving again soon, I still like this life better."
Hermione came back, smiling. "They were great."
"So, are you going to buy them?"
"I don't know. Why?"
James elbowed Ron. "Give her a reason," he hissed.
"Because I know that you'll look great in them, I can almost see you in them now. Of course…" he said stumbling as James shook his head and sighed. "You'd look great in almost anything."
James sighed in relief and pulled Ron closer. "Nice save. We need to work on your social skills though."
They made their way to the men's section where Hermione tried to get Ron to try on some clothes. Finally, James pushed Ron off to the changing rooms, and looked at some shirts in his size.
"James, what are you doing?"
"Shopping?" he asked innocently.
"No. What are you trying to get Ron to do?" she asked, putting her hand on the rack in front of him.
"Oh that. You were so made for each other it isn't even funny. And neither one of you seemed ready to make a move without some prodding. He seemed the easiest person to manipulate at the time. You two will make a really cute couple, you know. Just learn to compromise. It's the only problem I can foresee," James said, smiling.
"How did you know that we had such a big fight before the ball last year?" Hermione asked. "He asked me as a last resort, and I nearly punched him."
"I'm sorry. But he just needed a bit of encouragement. What do you want to bet that he didn't want to mess up your friendship, especially the one you had with your other friend?" James said. "You mind if we look at music? I have enough clothes to last me for a while."
"Not at all. I've been meaning to ask you. That wasn't marijuana, was it?" Hermione asked.
"Um, I don't think so. But then, you don't know, unless you see them open the new package. And I don't smoke that often, just a drag every now and again. That was probably my last for about the next several months. As I might be coming back for Christmas," James said, shaking his head at Ron who was coming back. "How'd they fit, mate?"
"Okay. But I don't know. I'm not really that good at shopping for clothes," Ron replied, replacing a couple, then looking at a couple other shirts. "What a cool pattern."
"Holy crap. You're kidding me right? Back away from the maroon shirt," Hermione said, smiling. "You hate the maroon sweaters your mum sends you every year."
"You don't ask her for another color?" James asked. "Ask her for a black one. See what she'll say. Sure, you'll look Halloweenish, but you won't look like a plum."
--00--
Damn, this was a long chapter. Don't expect the rest to be this long, or you WILL be disappointed. You read me? It's only this long because there was no logical stopping place around 2000 words.
The quote was just so that you know where I found the class of drugs called Nepenthes. Look it up… it's in OED if you need it, or Websters. Besides, I defined it last chapter.
**** So… I don't have a Beta, looking for one or two… mostly for grammar and helping plot holes… because I retain the right to control my stories. You can suggest it, if I hate it, I won't use it. Got it? I do want someone who can promise me 2-3 day turn around… thinking of posting twice a week, depending on schoolwork. If you're expecting me to post the day I have three final exams, you're crazier than I am.****
Authors Note: I am thinking of starting a yahoo e-group for people who want updates for my fanfics. Let me know of your interest, and if you have any good ideas for names. I would appreciate them and will post my decision on my profile or the next chapters of my fics.