Taste The Dreams of Distant Lives
When Edie walked out of her bedroom the next morning, she was surprised to find Lottie, dressed for the day in a light jumper and wide-legged plaid trousers, but with bedhead, staring at the photos on the mantle of her heath. She studied the witch in the quiet. Her shape was relaxed and from the way her hands reached up to bring a photo of Severus from last Christmas down to study more closely, Edie could see she was curious to see how their family grew and changed.
When Lottie put the photo back, Edie seized on the opportunity and said, "I was sure yeh would be gone."
Lottie jumped. "I'll admit I thought about it," she replied with a sheepish smile as she turned around to look at Edie.
She suppressed her flinch and crossed her arms. "Wha' changed yer mind?"
The witch sighed and a sadness pulled at her face. "It's been eight realities since I last saw you and three more before that you were my mother. I hope the next one I go to will be home, but statistically speaking it probably won't be," she said. Lottie's face reddened and she mumbled, "I… want a little more time with you. You're the nearest thing to my mum I might get to experience for a while."
Edie felt her heart warm at the words. Closing the distance between her and the younger witch, Edie took her hand. Smiling at the uncertain-looking woman, she urged, "Eat breakfast with me." Edie glanced at the room's clock. "I can put off openin' the library an hour, but no more than tha'. It's OWLs an' NEWTs week."
"Damn," replied Lottie. "It is that time of the year, isn't it? The passing of time becomes so odd when you're jumping between realities."
Edie nodded. "If yeh want yer welcome ter stay here an' wait fer me. I can come down fer lunch too," she said, hoping Lottie would take her up on the offer.
She hesitated. "I really shouldn't," she said.
She squeezed the with's hand. "Stay, Lottie," she pleaded.
"…Okay," relented Lottie. She turned her expression stern. "Just until after lunch."
Edie beamed. "Thank yeh," she said. "Yeh still like bacon?"
Lottie dipped her chin. "I do," she agreed. Briefly, she twisted her mouth. "Which would be lovely and maybe some yogurt and jam if you have it? I've been craving it for a few days now."
"O' course," Edie replied. She let go of Lottie and shifted in the direction of the kitchen. She had jam, but no bacon or yogurt. She usually preferred to have most of her meals in the Great Halls these days. It was just herself here now. "Let me just ask a house-elf," she said.
Lottie clasped her hands in front of her. "I'll stay out here."
Edie hummed. If that was what she wanted to do, Edie didn't mind. The elves would think she was Eileen, but she understood if that wasn't something the witch wanted to deal with. Stepping into the kitchen, she called for one of her favorite elves while taking out the jam from her cupboard.
After they popped into the room, she asked for the food Lottie requested. Then she also asked for a pot of tea to round off the meal. All too happily, the house-elf agreed and popped away before returning with the requested food. Edie thanked them and waved as they left once more. Edie then arranged it all on a tray and quickly made herself some toast from a loaf of aging bread next to her sink.
Once done, she stepped out into the living room to find Lottie had taken a seat on the sofa, feet tucked up next to her. She smiled and raised the tray. "Here we are, tea, bacon, yogur' an' strawberry jam," she said.
"Brill, Edie!" replied the witch as she leaned in with eager eyes as she laid out the spread on the coffee table.
Edie watched with satisfaction as Lottie spooned jam into the yogurt and ate it. As the witch stuffed herself, she poured tea for the both of them and stole a bit of jam for her toast.
"Mh, this is great," the witch said as she crunched on a slice of bacon.
Edie stirred milk into her tea and considered Lottie's voracity. "Yeh been eatin' well lately?" she asked.
She shrugged and dumped a spoonful of sugar into her tea before taking a sip only to shake her head and pick up the milk and put some in too. "Eh, it depends on your thoughts on pub food for dinner and maybe a pastry for breakfast and lunch," she said.
She frowned. That was not good at all. No wonder she looked so rundown yesterday. "Lottie," she scolded.
Lottie pouted at her over her tea. "Sorry! It's not like I had anyone willing to host me the past few days," she said. "The last universe I was in Severus didn't exist at all and before that he was dead and you two were never married. When that's the case I don't usually try to seek you out."
Edie lost her frown in favor of an open, horrified gape. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Lottie reached over and patted her knee. "It's okay, Edie," she assured her.
It wasn't. Edie could help the witch, though. "Before yeh go I'll have the elves pack yeh some leftovers fer yeh ter take on yer travels," she told her. Then if the next reality or two wasn't hospitable, she'd still be eating well.
It was the younger witch's turn to wear a gobsmacked look. Hastily, she put down her tea and flung herself at Edie. "You are the best Edie after my mum and seriously tying with the one who raised me," she gushed into her shoulder.
Edie patted her back. "You're welcome, swee'," she said as a smile tugged at her lips.
When the witch pulled away, she looked over her shoulder and at the mantle. "Hey, can I ask the names of the babies and little boy in the photos on your wall?"
"O' course," said Edie. "The little boy is Darla's son, Severus. The babies are Eileen's twins, Carrie and Marcus."
Lottie hummed, hand twitching the way it had the day before. "Carrie as in…?" she asked.
"Carroll," replied Edie, "two Rs and two Ls,"
She furrowed her brows and padded closer to the mantle to stare fully at the photo of Eileen and her twins. "Elsewhere she named her daughter after me," she commented.
Edie wasn't surprised. Carrie almost was another Lottie. "She wanted ter," she told the witch. "When it came time ter announce their names, though, she started ter cry an' couldn't stop. Eileen said the very thought o' sayin' yer name hurt an' told Marcus ter pick somethin' else."
She leaned away from the picture, a photo of the twins as newborns, Carrie in Marcus's arms and Marcus in Eileen's arm, to gaze at Edie. "So Carroll was his idea?" she asked as she came to sit back down next to Edie on the sofa.
Edie shook her head. It wasn't, not really. "He was in a panic at Eileen's state an' myself an' his mother started throwin' names at him," she explained. "She suggested Carrie an' I agreed it'd be lovely, but she needed a proper name. I offered Carroll. A woman by tha' name helped me out a time o' two before I met yer father."
Lottie's fidgeting fingers darted into the pockets of her pants. "Interesting…"
She squinted at Lottie's hidden hands. She was almost sure the one she saw was gripping a Muggle pen. "If yer recording this information in somethin' I don't mind," Edie said.
Lottie blushed before she sheepishly pulled out a Muggle pen and yellow-brown leather diary. "I am, actually," she admitted.
Edie didn't mind, but she was curious. "Fer wha'?" she questioned as she watched Lottie flip to a half-filled page in her diary.
Lottie glanced at her as she began to write in the diary. "When I arrive home, this will be quite a trove for Unspeakables who want to study the Reality-Shakers and parallel universes."
"Ah," murmured Edie. Lottie was right. The Unspeakables of her universe were going to be beside themselves when given such a journal. They'd be able to hypothesize and theorize for decades to come about the nature of different realities.
Finished with taking her notes, Lottie closed it with a satisfying thump. "Also, I mean, what I'm doing is a little bit illegal. After all, you could argue I'm altering realities," she remarked with a little laugh.
Edie frowned. "How?" she asked. "I'm not goin' ter change my life 'cause o' yer visit."
Lottie hummed and let her eyes slide off to the side. "Perhaps not you, but… Well, it's not like I did it on purpose, I was a kid, but I changed the first reality I ended up in," she admitted. "Severus wouldn't have sought you out or married you or became my brother's father or had Annie if I never showed up." She brought her gaze back to Edie and said with a shrug, "My time in the other 277 universes has been very brief for the most part, but I did reveal stuff about where I came from. I might have piqued a Severus or Edie's curiosity or someone else's and who knows what they're up to now because of our time together?"
Edie winced. When Lottie put it that way… Surely no one would blame her for the first one. It was an accident (and no one had been cross with her Lottie for what she did where she ended up). But the others? Well. Hopefully not, but there was a chance. "So yer hopin' ter bargain with tha'," said Edie, pointing at the diary.
"Yeah," agreed the witch with a pleased grin.
She smirked. "Clever girl."
Lottie's grin grew even wider. "Thanks!"
They lapsed into a contented silence for a minute. Lottie began on another piece of bacon while Edie took a long sip from her lukewarm tea. In the silence, an old question she had from the day before came back to her. "Yesterday yeh said yer an outlier, wha' do yeh mean by tha'?" she asked after putting her now empty cup down on the coffee table.
Lottie shoved the rest of the bacon in her mouth and finished with an audible swallow. "I mean in the 278 places I've visited, only 37, here included, have or had a Lottie," she explained.
Edie felt chilled at the new information. "Tha' few?" she whispered.
Lottie sighed. "In a lot of other universes, you were still a mum. Just to another child or, sometimes, children."
She scowled. "Yeh don't understand, it's not bein' a mum I love, it's bein' a mum ter yeh. Yer sisters," she told her.
The smile she got in return was infuriatingly patronizing. "I'm sure the Edies in other realities feel that way about their children," said Lottie.
She frowned and crossed her arms. "Maybe so," she grumbled. It did not change how dearly she loved her girls, Lottie.
The other witch groaned. "Oh chin-up, Edie," she pleaded. Eyes wide, she bent in and shared, "All of your children I met love you."
Edie perked up at that information. She did like the sound of that. "Yeah?" she said. It did soothe her to know that no matter who her children were, or the situations they all were in, she had done well enough to earn and keep their love.
Lottie nodded with a smile on her lips. "Yeah," she replied. "You're the best mum."
The small bit of comfort Edie felt disappeared like a stinging spell to the back. "I wish I felt tha' way," she confessed. "So many nights I'll lie in bed feelin' I've failed yeh all—"
"Shh, shhh," hushed Lottie, drawing her into a hug as she started to cry. "You have to go to open the library soon. You don't want your eyes to be all puffy, do you?"
Edie did not want that. Sniffling she pulled away from the witch and began to dry her eyes. "No, yer right," she said. Meeting Lottie's gaze directly, she demanded, "Yeh'll be here when I get back?"
She bobbed her head. "Of course! I want those leftovers you promised me," she told her with a little laugh.
Edie echoed it. "I love yeh," she said as she got to her feet and brushed a hand over the witch's head.
"Love you too," said Lottie, eyes soft and liquid as she stared back at her.
-O-
While in the library, Edie did her best to focus on her job. There were students who needed her help finding textbooks, others that wanted her advice on their essays, and a few who needed a good scolding for being too rowdy for the library's atmosphere. Even so, Edie found her mind drifting frequently to the young witch in her quarters. To the things she said. More than once she found herself dissecting her words about the universes she saw. She'd mentioned out of the 200 plus universes she visited only a small fraction had a Lottie.
37 to be exact.
Edie couldn't get this fact out of her mind as she hurried back to her quarters at lunchtime. Lottie existed in 37. Existed. That didn't necessarily mean they were all alive, did it? It meant there were other places, like here, where Lottie died. As she stepped into her quarters, Edie found herself scowling. Was it more common for her daughter to be alive or dead in the few places she existed?
Her contemplations were temporarily brought to a halt when Lottie said, "I know that look." Lottie wore a not-quite-smile on her face as she remarked, "You learned it from Severus. What are you brooding on?"
She sighed. Edie had been wondering how she would ask Lottie about the 37 universes. Now was as good a chance as she was going to get she reckoned. "Yeh said there are 37 realities yeh exist," she reminded the witch. "How many are yeh alive in?" she asked with a pointed stare.
Lottie's almost amused expression grew stricken. "Edie—"
"Yeh also said it's common fer yeh ter die in an accident," Edie broke in. "How many are yeh alive in?" she demanded.
The witch didn't answer her immediately. Edie crossed her arms, fine with waiting. "Nine," whispered Lottie at last.
Edie felt her heart drop. Her daughter only lived in that many? "Nine?" she echoed.
Lottie's eyes grew fretful. "I'm missing in two," she said.
"But the rest yer dead," replied Edie while still stuck on the fact that in over half of the realities Lottie exists she is cold and buried.
"…Yeah," agreed Lottie after more hesitation. She exhaled with a sad droop to her shoulders. "Mostly, it's accidents. Five or six of them I die in the Final Battle."
Edie stared at Lottie, absorbing this horror. The witch seemed to take the silence as an encouragement to explain the remaining few. "In three I, or both I and Eileen, die as you're giving birth to us," she explained Lottie. Her voice dropped and she murmured, "One of those universes you died too."
Edie, knees nearly knocking together, stumbled over to the room's armchair and sank into it. "Merlin, Mordred, and Morgana," she muttered into her palms.
From out of the corner of her eye, Edie saw the other witch get to her feet. "I'm sorry," Lottie whispered as she draped herself over Edie's hunched shoulders.
Edie pushed a wobbly smile over her face and turned her head. "Wha' do yeh have ter apologize fer?" she asked while reaching up to grasp the witch's hand. "Yer father an' I failed yeh, lettin' yeh die from recklessness…"
Lottie squeezed Edie tighter. "No!" she refuted. "It's as I said before, I'm wild." She chuckled hollowly. "I… I'm inclined, you could say."
"Inclined," repeated Edie with displeasure. She was only so because she and Severus found her spirit too endearing to tame. However, she was not going to try and explain this. Lottie wouldn't understand. Instead, Edie decided to explore a different line of interest, one that was now itching at the back of her mind. "Wha' are yeh like in the ones yer alive? Are yeh happy?" she asked.
The other witch pulled away. "I didn't stay in those places long," she hedged.
"Lottie," Edie said in little more than a scolding hiss.
Lottie grumbled beneath her breath. Then, louder, admitted, "I'm okay." Edie twisted in her seat to level the younger with an unimpressed frown. Lottie lifted her hands to the ceiling in a helpless gesture. "I don't know. Those Lotties are alive. Some of them have more family and friends, some less, but they aren't alone and I think that's enough. There's no reason they can't be in their futures," she explained.
Edie wasn't pleased by the answer, but it was honest. "That'll have ter do, won't it?" she said.
Lottie winced. "Sorry," she muttered.
Edie shook her head. Then, capturing Lottie's churning blue gaze, Edie made her stare into her eyes as she told her, "I want yeh ter know here yeh were happy."
The younger witch's face softened incrementally. "That's good," she said.
Edie nodded before she let her mind tunnel back to one of the most painful days she had ever experienced. "Yeh just had yer birthday an' got yer firs' broom. The day… The day o' yer accident yeh were playin' with Darla before it happened," she explained. Edie recalled the way her baby smiled. How excited she was to get her broom. Swallowing back a lump in her throat, Edie croaked, "Before yeh died, yeh had a good day."
Lottie's face is taut anew with anxiety. "Is Darla well?" she questions, searching Edie for hints to her aunt's state.
Edie didn't nod. Nor did she shake her head. Darla was what she was. Her state was too complicated, too influx to be encompassed by such a simple word. "She doesn't fly anymore," she told Lottie instead of answering her question.
"Oh."
At Lottie's fallen expression, Edie decided to elaborate and ease her pain. "Most o' the time when I talk ter her Darla seems content. Her an' Severus live in Australia."
A light like happiness ignited in Lottie's eyes. "Do they? They live there in a couple of different realities I've been to as well," she admitted.
She smiled. "She is adventuresome too," Edie said, reflecting on that small period of bliss she and her family experienced before Voldemort's return. "It's why yeh got on so well," she told her with a smirk.
The other witch laughed. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?" she mused with a smirk. Her eyes then fluttered wide. "Oh, hey!" she exclaimed before reaching into the pocket of her pants. "Before we go our separate ways…" she murmured while pulling out what looked to be a slip of paper from her pocket. "Here," she said as she placed it in Edie's hand.
Edie turned over the paper and was entrapped when she realized it was a picture of a younger Lottie with two other children at the seaside. Lottie was a teenager, possibly fifteen or sixteen, with long hair fluttering around her face as she smiled and laughed. One of the other children, a dusky-skinned boy who had to be (nearly) Lottie's age with a short afro, had one hand on Lottie's shoulder and his other held the hand of a little girl standing between the two. The little girl's smile matched Lottie's and the boy's. Otherwise, she held a startling resemblance to Esther.
"Is this yeh an' yer siblings?" Edie asked when she finally raised her gaze from the sweet photograph.
The witch nodded. "Yes, this is a picture from when I was fifteen," she explained. She looked away and told Edie, "Severus, ah, knew things were going to take a turn that year and, for a weekend during the summer, took us all to the seaside."
Edie hummed and returned her gaze to the photograph. "Wha' a beautiful picture," she mumbled while tracing the faces of the children. She chuckled. "Yer little sister reminds me o' Esther,"
"I know," agreed Lottie. She bent closer and pointed at the little girl's smile. "She looks a bit more like you, though. It's in the shape of her face and how she smiles."
Edie had to agree. Maybe the little girl had Severus's hooked nose and fine black hair just like Esther, but she was also distinctly her own. "Yer right," agreed Edie. She held the photo out to Lottie, "Here. I'll call the house-elves now."
The younger witch pushed the photo back to her. "No, keep it," she urged.
"But—"
Lottie shook her head. "Look, It's been a long time since I came across an Edie so like the ones who raised me," she said. "I want you to have it." She reached out and hugged Edie. "Thank you so much for your kindness and care."
Edie patted the younger witch's back. "Yer welcome, swee'," she said as the girl began to shake with quiet sobs. "Oh, Lottie…"
Lottie pulled away. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured. Sniffling, she wiped at her eyes and complained, "This is why I just bloody leave." Edie flinched and a look of guilt passed over Lottie's face. "Sorry, I've really enjoyed our time together, truly," she said.
She believed her, as much as her heart was smarting from her words. Saying goodbye was always difficult. It became nearly unbearable, though, when one knew it would be the last time. Edie forced a shaky smile across her face. "Lottie, I'm going ter call the house-elves," she said.
The witch dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and half turned away from her. "Okay," she replied.
Edie stepped into the kitchen, and as she had in the morning, called for a house-elf. When they appeared she requested a basket's worth of food wrapped up to go. The weather wasn't terribly warm yet, but she implied to the confused elf she was going to go out looking for some potion ingredient or another during her lunch break and was taking a student with her.
While the elf was gone, one of Edie's hands drifted to her ear and she began to roll the pearl stud in it between her fingers. They were a gift from Severus. The last he gave her before he died. At the time, she had not much appreciated them. They had felt like an attempt on his part to buy her forgiveness. After he died, though, they became precious to Edie.
A reminder of how much Severus loved her, valued her. Edie had planned to pass them on to Eileen in the future as her (living) oldest. Now, though… Lottie probably hadn't taken a reminder of Edie with her beyond a picture or two when she left. As she pulled the earrings out, the house-elf reappeared with her requested basket of food.
Passing the earrings into one palm, Edie stooped low to accept the basket and thank the elf. The house-elf gave her a pleased smile and bow before disappearing back to Hogwarts's kitchens. Earrings in one hand and the basket the other, Edie stepped back into the lounge.
Lottie's eyes lit up at the sight of her basket and she smiled. "This should keep yeh well-fed fer a couple o' days," she remarked.
Taking the basket from her, Lottie laughed. "No doubt!" she agreed.
Edie looked to her hand with the earrings. Then she pressed them into the empty hand of Lottie. "I want yeh ter have these," she told her.
Lottie opened her palm and frowned down at the earrings. "Why—"
"Sev'rus gave 'em ter me the last Christmas we had tergether," she explained.
The witch's eyes widened and she attempted to pass them back to her. "No, Edie," she whispered.
"Take 'em," urged Edie, gently pushing away Lottie's hand cradling the earrings. "Remember here. Remember I love yeh. Remember somewhere yer mother is waitin' fer yeh."
Lottie's eyes shimmered and she started to blink rapidly as she complained, "I'm really going to cry!"
"It's all right, swee'," crooned Edie as she drew the witch against her. "Shh…" she hummed into her hair as her shoulder began to grow damp with tears.
"I love you," Lottie mumbled into her neck as she wound her arms around Edie.
"Oh," whispered Edie as she felt tears sear against the back of her eyes. "Oh, Lottie. I'm goin' ter miss yeh," she warbled into the girl's hair.
"Me too," she sniffled.
Edie kissed the crown of her head one last time before pulling the witch away. "Lottie?" she said.
"Yeah?" the younger asked, cheeks wet and eyes wide.
Edie wiped away the tear tracks with her thumb. "If yeh ever decide ter stop, know yer not failin', okay? Yer Edie an' Sev'rus will understand," she told the witch. "They'd rather yeh happy wherever yeh are than dead o' sad an' constantly searchin'."
"…Okay," whispered Lottie after a bout of doubtful silence.
She resisted the urge to sigh. Edie didn't think the other witch fully believed her. She hoped Lottie ran into another Edie who told her the same too. As certain as Edie was Lottie's mother yearned for her daughter's return, she also knew if she had even an inkling of an idea of what happened to her daughter, she would want Lottie to settle somewhere. For her to be happy.
Lottie was not happy now. It would break her mother's heart to see. It broke Edie's.
"Any Edie will gladly have yeh," she assured Lottie. "All yeh got ter do is ask fer help," she explained before caressing her cheek one last time.
"I will," promised Lottie.
The unhappy knot in her chest loosened ever so slightly. "Good girl," said Edie. She picked up Lottie's leftovers and handed them to her once more. "Don't yeh ferget this."
"Thank you!" said Lottie. She juggled it to one hand and reached into her satchel. Carefully, she pulled out a reality-shaker from the bag. Holding it between her fingers, she said, "Well, this is goodbye."
"Goodbye," replied Edie as she clasped her hands (and the photo Lottie gave her) to her chest. "It was nice visitin' with yeh."
"You too," whispered Lottie and she shook the globe.
Edie was alone in her quarters once more.
She collapsed onto her sofa and curled around the picture of Lottie with her siblings. Face pressed into the back of the sofa, Edie broke into heaving sobs. It was the worst time possible for her to take a half-day from her job, but it was what Edie was going to do. She was so, so happy to have gotten a glimpse of what her Lottie could have become. Yet she felt as if she had lost Lottie all over again.
Thank you all so much for reading!
