Frisk had experienced a lot of different kinds of magical transport. She'd used enchanted cars, portkeys, flue powder, not to mention brooms. She'd rather have used any of those then take the Knight Bus. According to Stan, the person who'd taken her ticket at the bus's entrance, it used a form of Apparition to go from place to place between predetermined stops. Every time it burst between these stops, Frisk could feel her stomach lurch with it. Judging by the noise (and the smell) coming from upstairs... she wasn't the only one, and that only made it was worse.

She was sitting with Opal... "Her Sister" on the first floor of the bus, along with a few other wizards and witches, wearing a mix of mundane and wizardly clothing. Frisk and Opal had changed in the Three Broomsticks before boarding. Professor McGonagall had kept their robes, so that the Macintoshs didn't see them when picking up the students. They weren't carrying much, not even their school books.

They rattled into Sheffield and gratefully wobbled off the bus. Stan gave them a polite nod, and the bright purple knight bus made its way out of the populated area before popping out of existence somewhere further down the trail.

Opal led the way into the Sheffield train station, looking around to make sure they were heading for the right place to pick up the train. At least this time the platform she was looking for was both a whole number, and was actually listed on an overhead sign. As far as Frisk knew, it was after school hours, but they seemed to be the only children there. She worried, briefly, illogically, that the conductor was going to go off on them for being out of school, but he only gave their tickets a terse look, punching them, before giving them back.

The mundane rail car wasn't nearly as comfortable as the Hogwarts Express, with the compartments being traded for rows of... somewhat comfortable seats. It went without saying that there wasn't going to be any kind of snack trolley either.

Opal tried repeatedly to engage Frisk in conversation, trying everything from discussing to her family but only to mild success. Frisk's nauseousness hadn't completely gone away with the change in transportation. It was about a half an hour into the trip that Opal finally nudged Frisk hard enough to wake Frisk from her rambling thoughts, "Your pocket's ringing," her friend told her.

Frisk had forgotten she'd put her cell phone in her pocket. She pulled it out, looked at the incoming number, and answered it. "Hello, Mom."

"My child. I am glad to see you have your cell phone on. I just called to see if you were doing well. Did you make your human train?"

"Yes, mom," she replied quietly.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "I know you are worried, my child. I do not know if the these words will help, but I would like to try. You are going to spend some time with someone who cares enough for you that they have come looking for you. Do you believe anything matters other than that?"

Well. When you put it like that. "No," Frisk replied, "But..."

"But do not worry, my child. Whatever happens after, we will work it out together. No matter what it takes. Because we are a family. Does that help?"

Somewhat to Frisk's surprise, it did. "I think so. Thank you."

"My child, I would like you to promise me to call if I can help. Do not get so caught in this necessary deception that you forget that. Okay?"

For the first time that day, Frisk smiled. "Yes, Mom, thank you. I promise."

A few minutes later, Frisk disconnected the call.

"Are you feeling better?" Opal asked her, and she was smiling too. She already knew the answer.

It was odd to pull into the King's Cross station, but not be on the hidden platform 9 and three quarters. It was the end of the line for this particular route, and everyone was getting off the train at once, jostling into one another in their hurry to get wherever they were going. Frisk agilely led Opal to the side to get out of the worst of the commotion, but the smaller girl had no chance in seeing anyone waiting for her.

After a minute or two, the crowd began to thin out, and Opal withdrew her own cell phone, to make contact with her mother. "They're not far, they're waiting over near the timetable board... I think I see it. This way." The taller girl led the way toward the large monitors that hung, suspended, at the end of the track area.

Frisk saw Mr. Macintosh first, and that wasn't surprising. He was taller than his wife, his formerly black hair was showing signs of going a more 'salt & pepper' color, still cut militarily short. Frisk could see his dark eyes scanning the station, looking for the first sign of Frisk. He was dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, which seemed a striking contrast from the US Air Force uniform that had ingrained itself into her memory.

Ms. Macintosh was standing next to him, looking for Frisk, wearing a plain blue shirt, also tucked into jeans, and it didn't match Frisk's memory any more than her husband's clothing did. Her medium length brown hair was straight as ever, her eyes pierced through her glasses, trying to race to be the first to spot Frisk.

She could see Ms. Oxtoby sitting nearby.

What she couldn't see... was Tony.

Frisk hurried forward, but only for a few steps before coming to an abrupt, shocked, stop.

There was Tony, he was staring straight forward, his eyes glinting in the florescent light of King's Cross, looking down the platform Frisk had just come down. He was wearing a Washington Nationals baseball cap with a plain blue shirt...

...and he was in a wheelchair.

"Tony?" she whispered, before charging down the remaining distance, "TONY!" she shouted.

"Frisk!" he called back, though without the same force in his voice. The others turned to watch as Frisk came to a screeching stop in front of his wheelchair. He smiled as Frisk searched for the right words. "It's good to see you," he said. His voice was smaller – weaker – then she remembered.

She swallowed. "I've missed you, Tony. It's good to see you," she said, as Opal came up beside her. "This... this is Opal, my adopted sister." She glanced, just briefly, over at Opal. "Opal, this is Tony Macintosh... and his father and mother."

"It's good to meet you, Tony," Opal said, her voice hesitant at first before picking up steam. "And Mr. and Ms. Macintosh," she hastily added.

Mr. Macintosh knelt down, one knee just about hitting the tiled floor of King's Cross, so he could look the two girls in the eyes. "It's good to meet you, Opal," he turned to Frisk, "and... it's really good see to you again Frisk. How have you been?"

Ms. Oxtoby stood up, interrupting them. "I'm sure my husband is going to have dinner laid out for us," she said, smiling, "How about we continue in the car?" She pointed out the door, "The car park is this way."

Accepting a quick hug from each of the Macintoshs, Frisk settled in walking next to Tony, who was being pushed by his father. Opal trailed behind her mother, she kept looking from Frisk to Tony, appearing uncomfortable with the situation.

They were silent as they went out the front doors, then crossed the evening London street towards the parking lot. "You brought two cars?" Opal asked, finally speaking up.

"I had to come," Ms. Oxtoby explained, "Because I knew where we were going, and, well," she smiled, "Everyone wanted to be here, and we only have so many seats. So, Opal, why don't you ride with me, so Frisk can ride with the Macintoshs."

"Alright," Opal said, looking over at the others. "See you at home, Frisk."

"See you at home, Opal," Frisk told her, and moved to get in the back seat of the Macintosh's Toyota.

She was buckling her safety belt as Mr. Macintosh started the car. "Think left, Dad," Tony told him. Frisk had a momentary start as she remembered the Americans drove on the other side of the road.

"I'll remember, Tony," his father said, and Frisk could hear the smile in his voice. Mr. Macintosh had always seemed to had two modes, a very serious mode, which was any time he was wearing his uniform, and a more relaxed mode, like now. It was odd that he could just flip between things like that. It made her wonder what Ms. McGonagall was like when she wasn't at the school.

There was quiet at first, as Mr. Macintosh pulled out of the parking space, and behind Ms. Oxtoby, and both headed out of the car park into London traffic proper. Tony broke the silence with a waterfall of questions. "How have you been, Frisk? What's it like in a boarding school? When did you get adopted by the Oxtobys? He was about to go further, but Frisk had leaned against the door, putting up a single hand to forestall any remaining explosion.

"I've... I've been okay," Frisk said. "I was adopted a little over two years ago, at the beginning of the summer." It was easiest to match the fake adoption by the Oxtobys with the real one by the Dreemurrs. She continued,"They were the last in a series of foster homes... but they wanted me to stay with them."

Frisk took a deep breath, turning from Tony to look at her one-time parents, then back to Tony. This was a question that had been anticipated, and practiced. "As for the boarding school... it's kind of tough being away from home for so long. But Opal is still with me, and I've made friends there. So it's not so bad," she concluded.

"What's your favorite subject?" Ms. Macintosh asked, just as the silence was becoming awkward.

"Maths," Frisk answered, this was another question that had been practiced.

"And what are you working on in math," Ms. Macintosh followed up with.

"Geometry," Frisk replied, "Shapes, that kind of thing."

"What's the area of a circle?" Mr. Macintosh asked quickly.

Frisk froze. They hadn't gone into detail on the specifics of maths... and she had no idea.

"Pi are squared," Tony said in a slightly frustrated voice that Frisk normally associated with Papyrus.

"No... pies are round," Mr. Macintosh said. That tone she recognized immediately, it was Mom's "This is a joke" tone, and Frisk managed a fake giggle, even though she had no idea why it might be funny.

"Please don't encourage him," Tony said, giving Frisk a look. "Dad only has so many jokes, so he has to repeat them frequently."

"I thought it was funny," Frisk said, smiling slightly. "But it'll only be funny the first time."

"That's fair," Tony said, a grin breaking through the dour expression. They were about on the edge of London, heading for a motor way.

Frisk wanted to ask about Tony, about this 'Leukemia' that was eating away at his body. But she didn't dare, it was an elephant in the car with them, sitting on her chest. Instead she cast about for something – anything – else. "Where are you living now?" she settled on.

"Just outside of Washington DC, in Maryland," Tony said, adjusting the cap on his head. "Dad's stationed at Andrews Air Force Base."

"Is it nice, being back in the States?" Frisk asked.

"It's just different," Tony told her. "There's really nobody I knew from the UK nearby, not that I really had a lot of friends here. Mostly different TV shows and different sports."

"Speaking of sports, that's a baseball cap, right? What team?"

"The Washington Nationals. DC has a baseball team, now."

"You should talk to Opal about that. She's a big sports fan too. She saw one of the American Football games that they played over here." Frisk racked her brain, "I don't know if she's a fan of baseball or not, I don't think it's come up."

Mr. Macintosh turned onto the motorway. "They've only been doing that a few years. Did you go?" he asked.

"No," Frisk said, "The tickets were expensive, it was going to be cold, and I wasn't as interested."

Mr. Macintosh laughed.

Frisk wanted to say how Opal actually played rugby but stopped herself. Would that be inconsiderate? Tony would have liked her before... Frisk shoved the thoughts out of her brain. That wasn't important right now. He'd bring it up when he was ready.

The conversation shifted into safer subjects, about what her sleeping arrangements were like at

boarding school, her friends at school, what made a good teacher, that kind of thing. Through it all, Frisk kept the focus on herself, or her new 'family'. She only barely realized they'd pulled on to Opal's street, and come to a stop.

Tony looked up. "Oh. We're here."

"Yep, we're here," Mr. Macintosh said, putting the car into park. "Everyone out."

Ms. Macintosh retrieved Tony's wheelchair from the trunk, and helped him transfer from the car. Together they headed into Oxtoby's household, Frisk in the rear. The house was much the same as Frisk remembered, she'd seen it enough over the summer. The only obvious magical object, a mantle picture of Opal's Grandparents, on her mother's side, had been put away somewhere.

The smell of fresh cooked chicken wafted through the front door as Frisk crossed the threshold. "Hello, everyone," Mr. Oxtoby said as everyone tromped through the entrance. "I couldn't think of what I could cook such a large group, so I brought something in instead. I hope everyone likes KFC."

The dining room wasn't that big, and having seven people in it made just a bit crowded. As they sat down, Frisk saw Ms. Macintosh give Tony a quick but pointed look.

He responded by looking wounded.

Mr. Oxtoby didn't notice or, at least, pretended he didn't. He had separated the chicken onto two large plates. "We'll start with the dark meat," he said, passing it to Mr. Macintosh, and before long, everyone had taken their choice of fried chicken, and was eating the slightly greasy chicken the only way one could: noisily.

"I figured I'd go with something imported from the States. Does that meet the approval of everyone?"

Frisk hadn't eaten fried chicken for a few years. There wasn't a KFC near where the Dreemurs lived, and it was a bit hard to make at home, so it was actually a nice change of pace. There were satisfied murmurs of ascent around the table. "So how was the trip you two?" Mr. Oxtoby asked, directing the question at Opal and Frisk.

"Long and boring," Opal said. "It is a lo-o-o-n-g train ride," she said. "And the train isn't particularly comfortable."

"At least you can get up and walk around," Tony said, causing Frisk to flinch slightly. Tony apparently noticed this, "I mean, there's different cars on a train, right? It's not like you're stuck on an airplane."

"I guess," Opal said, "I've never actually been on an airplane before."

"It's claustrophobic," Tony said, "Like traveling in a large tin can, and you can't have fresh air because you're thousands of feet up in the sky..."

"My experience with planes has been very different than my son's," Mr. Macintosh said covertly to Mr. Oxtoby.

"Yeah. Dad loves them," Tony said.

"If you've never been on a plane, have you ever been out of the country?" Ms. Macintosh said, steering the conversation away from what felt like a frequently repeated conversation.

"We've been to France, before Frisk joined the family," Opal said, "But just for a weekend, a couple of times. Just long enough to visit Paris. It's pretty easy with the Chunnel."

They continued the small talk through the remainder of the chicken, and American biscuits with honey. Since they weren't actually tired – or couldn't admit to it, having theoretically sat on a train all day, they retired to the living room to watch a film, one of the Oxtoby's favorites: "Back to the Future". Frisk had never actually seen it before.

"Time to pack up," Mr. Macintosh said as the credits were rolling. He looked down to Frisk, who was lying on the floor (both couches being full of adults). "We're staying with the Meades, if you remember them. We've a busy day tomorrow, we're going to the Woburn Safari Park."

"That sounds fun," Opal said, "We've never been there."

And it was, as it turned out. Okay, so maybe Giraffes weren't quite as interesting as the Unicorns Madam Grubbly-Plank had shown them in their second Care of Magical Creatures class (not to mention the Dragons they'd seen last year), but there was something endearing about seeing them in their natural environment. Since they didn't leave the car, it was something Tony could fully participate in.

They did the second part of the tour, the walk, after lunch. It was a bit harder for Tony, but it was highlighted with a bird demonstration that was fascinating and thrilling to watch.

"Can we go around again in the car?" Tony asked as they reached the end of their tour. "It says we can go around as many times we like."

Mr. Macintosh checked his watch. "I'm afraid not. We have someone we're meeting for dinner tonight." He slapped his forehead. "I'm sorry, Mr. Oxtoby, I forgot to ask. The Meades have offered to cook for all of us tonight. Would you like to join us?"

Mr. Oxtoby looked taken aback. "Oh. Sure. Why not? I was kind of planning on pizza anyway, and any night I don't have to cook is a good night for me." He smiled, looking at his wife, who nodded an agreement.

With that decided, they went for their cars.

Frisk had never been to the Meades house until now, though she did remember the Colonel. It was a quaint little home in the northwestern London suburbs, looking like... well, like most of the homes around it. A bright red door stood out between the two windows.

There were two cars already in the driveway when they arrived. The Macintoshs, with Tony, had led the way this time, and got out of the car first. They waited in a neat little little group on their porch, as Mr. Macintosh rang the bell.

"Hello, hello!" Mr. Meade said as he opened the door. He looked down, "Frisk! It's good to see you again. And you must be Opal, and the Oxtobys. It's good to meet you," He continued, stepping out the house to shake their hands. "They're here already, Scott, in the living room. Go ahead in, I'll help your wife with Tony."

"They?" Opal asked.

Motioning Frisk to follow, Mr. Macintosh led the way into the Meade's living room. There were three people in there. Two women, and a girl. The women... Frisk didn't recognize, but the girl... the girl had raven-colored black hair. Her brown eyes weren't quite focused, reminding Frisk somewhat of Luna, but... like they were looking beyond Frisk, somewhere behind her.

Frisk knew this girl. They had met before... but Frisk couldn't place where until...

"Do you know my angel?" Anne Roberts asked.