Ok, Ok, I'm going to stop apologizing about updates and simply say: at this point I will when I can. The holidays are nuts especially since my Mom is a music teacher.

You know those Christmas concerts at local elementary schools one thinks are sooooo cute? Well, there's a lot of work into it when you have a part as a kid, there's even more as a teacher, plus getting presents mailed for the first time.

(Yes, they went out too late for Christmas but they are coming girls ;) )

Thanks again Mystic!

Chapter 6: Memories

Once everyone had finished eating Dumbledore asked Meidh what kind of wand she had gotten. Meidh smiled and wordlessly handed him her creation. Dumbledore looked puzzled as to why she hadn't said anything. He gasped as soon as his hand touched the wood. This was most assuredly a wand like no other.

"I had no idea Olivander was making wands like this."

Meidh smirked, "He doesn't."

The other staff members appeared amazed. "But then where did you get your wand?"

"Olivander's," Meidh replied. McGonagall shot her a look that said 'enough teasing. Explain it to them or I will.'

"However, Olivander didn't make it." Meidh explained, "I did." A gasp ran through the table. They had never heard of such a thing in recent times. Sure, in ancient days one made their own, just as a family made their own broom. However, since specialty trades began only the most skilled workers made wands.

"Well done," Dumbledore approved. "This is a very fine wand on your first try. Very powerful, it will take much strength to control."

Meidh barely resisted rolling her eyes. "So everyone keeps telling me," she muttered. Her wand was passed around the table so everyone could have a look. Most looked alarmed at the raw power in the wand. They knew Dumbledore didn't exaggerate, but this was more than they had imagined.

Just then a door to the Great Hall opened and in came Professor Sprout.

"My apologies for being late, my errand was more complicated than I thought. Professors, Headmaster, and Miss McRobertson may I acquaint you with…" She stepped aside revealing a small figure sitting behind her.

"PEANUTS!" Meidh screamed and scrambled from her seat. The dog gave a happy bark and took off towards his master. Meidh fell on her knees and hugged the dog around the neck. He began kissing her neck and ear; as soon as she pulled away enough he cleaned her face for her.

"Ok, ok," she laughed, "I did wash my face this morning. Come here you." Meidh picked up her dog and carried him over to the table. He laid contentedly half in her lap and gazed around at the others. Professor Sprout had taken her seat and was enjoying the scene as much as the others. McRobertson whispered in Peanuts' ear for a moment before kissing the top of his head. Speaking louder she said, "Peanuts, these are the Professors, be nice."

Dumbledore smiled, "I'm sure you two would like to get re-acquainted."

Meidh nodded, placed Peanuts back on the floor and rose. "We would at that. Thank-you very much for such a wonderful surprise. Good night all." Once the young woman had left the hall, the dog on her heels, Snape turned to the Headmaster.

"I must protest. Two dogs are more than enough in the castle. He will only cause a disturbance. What of the other students' cats?"

Dumbledore raised a hand to stop his agitated Potions Master. "He is her only link to the life she has left. The only reason she did not have him with her for this entire journey is Muggle Customs. To bring him would have meant a six-month stay in Quarantine. Due to the uncertain nature of her journey she made the decision to leave him in the care of others. As for the cats, he will know enough to leave them alone."

In McGonagall's common room, Meidh sat on the floor with Peanuts lying half on her lap again as she told him about her journey. She had just gotten to the part about Hagrid and his crossbow when McGonagall walked in. The Professor was amused to note the dog had noticed her presence but the woman had not. When Meidh had reached the end of her narrative the dog stood and trotted over to McGonagall. McRobertson looked up and smiled as Peanuts licked the Professor's hand.

"He wants a scratch, preferably behind the ears," Meidh chuckled, McGonagall obliged.

"How is it you know what he wants so well?"

"I've had him since he was old enough to leave his mother. My dad gave him to me as an eleventh birthday present. He said I was old enough to look after a puppy." She yawned and stretched. "G'night Professor, it's been a full day. See you for breakfast."

"Would you like a bed for Peanuts?"

"No thanks, he always sleeps at the foot of my bed. He makes a wonderful foot heater in the winter." She smiled, "Again, good night."

Sleep refused to visit Meidh that night. Every time she started to doze the memories of her brother and father would emerge. Finally, well after midnight, Meidh gave up and with a sigh of frustration got up. After yanking on a robe, she went out into the common room and sat on the couch. Peanuts padded silently in and lay down. He lay his head on top of her feet. Meidh was so absorbed in her thoughts and the fire, she barely noticed. Her counselor/therapist back home would never approve of what she was doing – brooding too much on 'what ifs' and 'might have beens' only led to depression.

'What if? Means never was or will be… Some things are simply beyond our control… If you continually dwell on the past, life passes you by.' He had said. Most of the sayings he used were proverbs or clichés and were cold comfort to someone whose life had been torn to pieces.

McGonagall awoke just before one a.m. Deciding to check over the castle, she pulled on her tartan dressing gown and silently opened the door. The scene before her eyes made the Professor stop short. Meidh was sitting on the couch, staring at the nearly out fire. The young woman's eyes were red with unshed tears. McGonagall sat down next to her and pulled the grieving girl into a comforting hug.

Mechanically, almost as though she was under the influence of veritaserum, Meidh began to speak softly.

"They never told us exactly what happened. It was a clerical error that led to the training accident." She snorted softly, "As though that was supposed to make us feel better. It didn't matter HOW it happened; the point was that it did. The result was always the same – he's dead. They wouldn't even let me see him. They closed the casket before Dad and I came in. His commander told some stories and anecdotes the other men in his battery wrote down. Everyone said how well loved he was, how much of an asset he was to the community.

I couldn't take it anymore I stood up and screamed at the pastor – 'Then why is he dead? If he was as wonderful as everyone keeps saying, why are we here celebrating a life that has ENDED?' I don't remember anything more until later; I was out back of the church, sitting against the wall, my head on my folded arms on top of my knees, drained and empty. There was nothing more I could do. After I got his dog tags, Dad told me that I was going to go on Tuesday night and speak with the pastor. He said I needed help that was beyond him. Dad went with me the first Tuesday. At the end the pastor said he would like to talk to both of us on Tuesday night, but I should see the school guidance counselor on Thursday or Friday as well.

The only good thing that ever came out of those talks was Dad's and my discussions while we worked. That's especially when I began to notice the telekinesis, a tool that I wanted but was out of reach would move and be within easy reach before I got up to get it. As the months passed, I began to heal. There were still ups and downs but they were more manageable.

Then there was the day of the accident. Dad went into town to meet up with a customer and do some follow-up. He asked me to come along; how I almost wish I had. The policeman showed up just over an hour later. Silly me, I thought he was there to discuss the screening he had talked of putting on the deck we built. The plans were laid out since we were putting the finishing touches on them. He told me that dad needed me.

When we got to the hospital, the doctor tried to explain what happened to me. The upshot of it all was that there had been an accident and Dad may never wake up. After five days he woke up for a few short minutes, I knew what he wanted but it was another six days before I could bring myself to do it. I made the doctors let me be the one to pull the plugs out of the wall. The nurses unhooked the machines. Helplessly, I watched my Father, my provider, take his last breaths and depart." Tears silently coursed down her face. She wanted to stop, but there was one more event that needed telling.

"Two or three weeks later, I was home finishing up a project Dad and I had been working on together. When it was finished, I went back inside to shower. Deciding on a workout before the shower, the punching bag called me. Not even thinking about gloves or workout shoes, my work boots and socks got left at the door. The first few punches were as usual, and then something went wrong.

Everything that had happened over the last few months came back. The fury coursed through my veins. The bag was the target. I punched and hit, slapped and kicked all the while never stopping screaming. Some time into it, I heard someone asking me to stop while I stopped screaming to kick harder. They eventually handcuffed me and put me in the back of the police van. They took me to the hospital. The doctors made the decision to sedate me, as I wasn't calming down on my own.

A day later, the doctor told me I had two choices. One I could continue to fight and be strapped to the bed or sedated again or two, I could calm down. I calmed down. He went on to explain what damage I had inflicted. Sprained ankle and bruised shin from my kicking. Cut and bruised hands, swollen fingers from the punching and a strained shoulder." She held out her hands, palms down so McGonagall could see the still healing cuts.

"They kept me in the hospital for almost three weeks. Then I had to have a counselor who came around once a week to check up on me and for counseling. It took a lot of convincing for them to let me come over here and what's more to do it alone. My sorry excuses for friends had abandoned me after my dad died. There were rumors floating around that we must be wicked or have committed some grievous sin for all this to happen.

It's funny, the only place I've felt peace since then is here. The nightmares have almost quit and there's a sense of belonging. It's weird but soothing." Her story finished, Meidh fell silent.

McGonagall's head was nearly spinning with all she had learned. The professor noticed Meidh was finally falling asleep. She gently led her sleepy pupil back to her room. Peanuts, who awakened as soon as Meidh moved, followed and curled back up at the foot of the bed.

"Watch over her tonight, extra carefully, but let her sleep in, in the morning." McGonagall instructed the dog.

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Well, there it is. I hope you liked it.

Please review, bats big puppy dog eyes Thanks!

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is a gold medal writer, I'm not. However I have been advised to add this: All concepts, ideas and characters not recognized from the Harry Potter Series belong to the author unless otherwise specified.