Part Nineteen
Ailene was certain that Marden would never ever speak to her again.
Which is what she has wanted all this time, right? She wanted him to leave her alone, and go on about their lives the way they had been for the last five years. Now nearing six.
But the way things ended that night on New Year's eve was absolutely horrible. Why was she harboring such contempt and resentment towards him? He technically did nothing wrong. He was right in saying that she was enjoying their passionate moment together in her dressing room. She did wrap her legs around him, and she was anticipating him. And above all, she shouldn't have slapped him. There was absolutely no excuse for physically assaulting him.
Ailene was absolutely beside herself during the first few days of January. It was the first Saturday of the year, mid-morning, and Ailene was sitting and writing out her lesson plans for the week, when there was a knock at her door.
Funny, she didn't remember inviting anyone over for mid-morning tea. Perhaps it was Marden? But there was no way he knew where she lived.
She stood and looked through her peep-hole. Her heart lept, but quickly came back down to her chest when she realized it wasn't him at all, but he was dressed eerily similar to Marden, and was clearly much older than him. He had a long, white beard and hair of equal length and color. She saw him reach out and knock again at her door.
Ailene hooked the chain to it's respective lock on her door, and opened until the chain snapped, and it stood just ajar enough for her to speak.
"May I help you, sir?"
"Ah yes, I am looking to speak with a Miss Ailene Hastings?" The old gentleman spoke with such politeness, and Ailene was struck instantly by how blue his eyes were. Not the same shade as Marden's, no. They were as blue as the ocean, and just as deep and captivating. He peered at her over half-moon spectacles very kindly. Ailene stood her ground, knowing that this man was no mere Muggle.
"I certainly hope I have the right address?" A leather glove dug into his pocket and picked out a small peace of paper.
"Yes you do, and I am Ailene. What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Have you ever been in contact with a Mr. Marden McKinnon?"
Ailene stayed silent for a very long time, eyeing him very closely.
"I'm assuming you know him?" Ailene then asked in return.
"Ah yes, Marden and I go back quite some time. Brilliant student, I even wrote a personal recommendation Karkus Rabnott when it came time for his training to be an Auror."
Ailene was silent again. She eyed this old man, and though he may be old to her, he stood with air of wisdom and knowledge.
"I am here because I have a few questions to ask, if that may be alright with you?" The man asked.
Ailene shut her door, before unhooking the lock and opening her door again.
"I have not seen Marden in well at least five years now." She answered him, knowing this wasn't the entire truth.
"Well, there is speculation that this is false."
Ailene walked away from her door and left it open for him to follow her inside. He did so hesitantly, perhaps out of respect.
Ailene clicked her stove on and set her teapot onto the flame.
"Before I tell you anything, Mr...?"
"Albus." He simply stated. "You may call me Albus."
"Yes, Mr. Albus. Before I tell you anything, I must know the true meaning of why you are here. What is your exact business?" Ailene knew that she was probably being very rude and unladylike, but she didn't care. She did not trust Wizards at all, and perhaps that was because with Wizards, nothing was as it seemed.
"Yes, that seems quite fair. I am, after all, taking time out of your day just a few days after the Holiday to bother you.
"Well, a formal complaint has been filed with the Ministry that you have knowledge of our world, which is strictly prohibited. And they have much evidence to prove that Marden McKinnon is the reason."
The teapot's whistles pierced the tiny apartment. Ailene poured two cups of tea and brought over some cream and sugar cubes to the small table by the wall. She pulled a chair out and offered Mr. Albus to sit.
"So you're from the Ministry, then?" Ailene asked nonchalantly, as if she knew of the Ministry's existence her whole life.
"Well, yes." Mr. Albus took the seat that was offered and drew his wand, tapping the cream and sugar cubes so they floated effortlessly into his mug. Ailene's eyes watched in amazement at this. Marden never did anything like that in front of her.
"I am apart of a high court of Wizards and Witches, called the Wizengamot. We work very much like your government's Parliament, if you will. We support the greater good of Wizardkind in the United Kingdom. And with the potential knowledge of a Muggle having intelligence of the Wizarding World is a highly dangerous crime."
This Mr. Albus made Ailene feel as though she had broken a school rule. Which, considering the grave tone in his voice, she had broken the law.
"What will happen to Marden?" Ailene then asked, and Mr. Albus took a kind sip of his tea and sat back.
"Well, we're not entirely sure yet. We are waiting on how this conversation between you and I go."
"And what about me? Am I going to be in trouble?"
Mr. Albus sat and studied Ailene for a very long time.
"Have you ever stepped foot into our world?"
"Well...yes I have. I have been to that dusty old pub...and the brick wall that leads out onto a street with shops. Some sort of Alley, but the name is escaping me at the moment."
"Ah yes, Diagon Alley. That was quite a good choice, if I do say so. Every Wizard and Witch from the United Kingdom and Ireland has visited there at least once in their lifetime."
"Hang on a minute." Ailene stood and walked into her bedroom, rummaging though her closet until she found her Witch's hat that Marden bought her, and the robes she wore to Euphemia's wedding.
"Look, he bought me these." He showed him, sticking the hat on her head and lifted the robes. "I've also been to his house. Well, it's more than a bloody house, it's a mansion. I attended his sister's wedding to Fleamont Potter."
This made Mr. Albus sit up in his chair. "You met Mr. and Mrs. Angus McKinnon?"
"I did..." Ailene answered softly, lowering the robes. "They hated me, and so did the rest of his family. Which...I guess I don't blame them. "
Mr. Ablus then hummed as if he was thinking of something, or perhaps putting things together in his head. He stroked the hair on his chin. "It is one thing to hate someone who has wronged you, another entirely when you are hated out of prejudice." He explained lightly to her. "I think their hatred is quite unwarranted."
The old man then took another sip of his tea before speaking again.
"So, it's safe to assume that you and Marden were very close?"
Ailene returned to her seat. "Very much so. We're not together anymore. But I do still love him, and I think I always will. I realized how detrimental things would be if we were to get married. He could lose his job, he could lose his family and I could never live with myself knowing this."
Mr. Albus slowly sat back in his chair with a smile, still stroking his beard thoughtfully.
"I'm certainly glad I came to talk with you, Ms. Hastings." He said thoughtfully. "They were going to send someone else here to Obliviate you."
Ailene looked back up at him in absolute shock. "Do what?"
Mr. Albus then laughed to himself. "They were going to erase your memory. Wipe it clean so nothing was left of our world, and of Marden. You'd still go on with your life the way it is." He quickly assured her.
"Is that what you're going to do?" Ailene said quickly. "Please, I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't told anyone else about your world, or even him for that matter. Please, I can live with the memory of him."
"Memories can be quite dangerous, my dear." He said softly, but then he shook his head. "But, I don't think I will. That's why I came instead, to learn the truth and whether it was indeed right to wipe your memory clean."
Ailene sighed softly in relief, quickly wiping the tears that welled in her eyes and escaped down her cheek. "Thank you." She whispered.
"There's no need to thank me, I am simply doing my job. But just know that if there is at all a violation, we will have no choice but to Obliviate you. But, alas, I don't have any worries. You seem like a very intelligent young woman. I can certainly see why Marden took for you."
Ailene smiled, stroking the robes in her hands.
"Ah yes, love. Very strange thing indeed. And very powerful. I have learned many lessons on love. We certainly do not expect to fall in love with those that we do. Seems to happen that way. And Wizard-Muggle relationships have been occurring since the dawn of time, and I should think they will continue to do so."
Mr. Albus took a last sip of his tea before grabbing a pointed hat out of his pocket and placing it gingerly on the top of his head.
"Thank you for you time, Ms. Hastings. It was certainly a pleasure meeting you." He stood and stuck out his hand, taking hers gently before offering her a bow. He turned and Ailene followed him, opening the door for him politely.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Albus. I enjoyed your company very much so."
"As did I." He bowed again and turned, stepping out into the pale, winter sunlight.
"Mr. Albus? Can I ask you one more thing?"
He turned and looked at her expectantly.
"You said someone filed a complaint with the Minstry?" She stepped closer to him, and whispered this question. "May I know who did?"
"Mrs. Verana McKinnon."
That night, Ailene searched the usual crowd for Marden. His usual spot in the back was now filled with a couple captured in a rapturous kiss.
Ailene had finally gotten what she wanted, but at what cost?
At the end of the night, Ailene left the dance hall and made her way down the street as she usually did. But she knew this area very well, and knew that Diagon Alley, and the Leaky Cauldron, were not too far off. She made a swift right, walking down the road.
She came to the pub and she looked up, and the cauldron that hung above the door, with a witch stirring her concoction swung creakily in the breeze. Every time she passed by the pub, she would look up and see that this sign and the pub was something else entirely; like a dusty old bookshop. But tonight, it was there, waiting for her expectantly.
She hesitated for a moment, before she opened the door.
Voices and laughter filled her ears, the breeze from inside catching her curls and lifting them in the air. Everyone inside looked the same, wearing long, luxurious robes and tall, pointed hats. Some turned and looked at her, as if expecting a friend, but they were disappointed, and others even eyed her. Ailene was sure she stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in all Muggle clothing, her dress a gorgeous shade of emerald, and her makeup and hair were still well intact.
She slowly walked over to the bar, and Tom the barman greeted her.
"I remember your face. You're Marden McKinnon's friend. I'm sorry to say, but he hasn't been in today, nor the last few days for that matter."
"Well, thank you." Ailene said politely. "I was actually looking for him this evening."
"Ah yes, would you like a Firewhiskey?"
"Uh, no. Is there anything a little lighter, maybe less strong?"
"Ah, butterbeer for the Lady!" Tom declared, and may Wizards and Witches raised their mugs to her. She smiled at them, quite surprised at how warm and welcoming some of them were.
A frothy pint of an orange colored beverage was placed in front of her, and it sure looked delicious. She took a sip, and was not disappointed. In fact she was delighted at it's taste, reminding her a bit like soda pop, but there was indeed a hint of alcohol in it's undertones.
She sat for a while, sipping her beverage and eyeing the scenery. Candlesticks floated just above their heads, owls sat on the bar as if it they were cats, and there were those too, a small black cat purred and pressed itself lovingly against Ailene's ankle.
There was a quite a large crowd in one corner, all glued to a impressive looking radio of some sorts. It sounded as if some sort of football match was coming through, a commentator speaking quickly, shouting names.
"NICE HIT FROM STOCKETT! HE'S IN POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE NOW, NEARLY DODGING WOODSON!"
Ailene leaned in a little to listen closer to listen.
"HE'S GETTING CLOSER TO SCORING, BUT HE'S GONNA HAVE A HARD TIME TRYING TO GET PAST PUNKE!
WAIT...WHAT WAS THAT? THE SNITCH! JONES IS ALREADY ON IT, AND DONOGHUE IS HOT ON HER TRAIL!
BACK TO STOCKETT! HE AIMS, BUT PUNKE! MERLIN'S BEARD, PUNKE IS JUST TOO QUICK, THE HARPIES ARE GOING TO HAVE TO TRY HARDER THAN THAT TO GET PAST THE CANNONS!
HANG ON! HANG ON!"
The crowd that was screaming through the radio went absolutely bonkers!
"JONES HAS DONE IT! SHE CAUGHT THE SNITCH JUST LIKE EVERYONE KNEW SHE WOULD!
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS TO THE HOLYHEAD HARPIES!
FINAL SCORE IS 45 TO 234! HOLYHEAD HARPIES DEFEAT THE CHUDDLEY CANNONS!"
Some of those who gathered around the radio jumped up and down wildly, shooting sparks out of their wands. Others tossed their hands up in the air angrily and immediately went to the bar and ordered more drinks.
Ailene was quite content in the atmosphere that surrounded her. She almost felt entirely at home as she sipped her soul-soothing Butterbeer. Some people still eyed her quite suspiciously, but she felt that no one would bother her, Tom seemed nice enough to trust.
Then, she got the strangest idea. She reached out for a napkin that was left on the bar and dug into her pocketbook for a pen.
I would like to talk, if that's alright with you?
Rosa's for coffee? For told time's sake?
-Ailene
"Excuse me, sir?" She asked, and Tom turned around.
"Another Butterbeer?"
"Um, no. I was wondering if I could ask you of a favor? Would you give this to Marden the next time you see him?" She handed Tom the folded napkin.
"Why don't I mail it to him? Zephyrus here is a ruddy good owl." He smiled, pointing to the large, black owl that sat diligently on the bar. He tied the letter to his leg before the bird took off into an open window by the ceiling. "Wouldn't be surprised if he'd find his way back to you with a reply, I reckon."
Tom helped Ailene count out £0.60, which she only assumed equated two sickles. "Don't worry, you're not the only Muggle that has visited this pub. I've learned to count Muggle money a long time ago." He reassured her.
Ailene threw on her jacket and was just about ready to leave when the massive fireplace against the farthest wall roared with green flames that licked the mantle, and Marden McKinnon stepped through.