Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
A/N: We're so close to the end of the story! Please review. It's depressing how little reviews I get. But above all, please enjoy.
I arrived at the camp with only seconds to spare. Very rarely now did I get up early, and I had fallen asleep soon after getting up at 6 am, giving me only a few minutes to get ready. Amelia waited at the gate for me with an unusual frown.
Over the months I had known Amelia, the dreamy look I thought was permanent, now rarely appeared. She had a smile mostly across her mouth and the occasional frown; sometimes her lips formed a pursed line. Now her frown quickly turned to relief as she saw me. The summer camp I had only been to a few times stretched out behind her. A large wide gate separated us from muggles and past that was freshly mowed grass. One section was a miniature quidditch pitch while the other half was just plain grass. There were several tents pitched up around the field at random spots for what I knew to be for rest stops and instruction.
"You're here. Good." Amelia said rushing me into the camp and closing the gate door. Paul and a small meek balding man, who I had learned would help out with the children, met us. To me he just looked like a sex offender but Paul swore on his honor and I couldn't question his judgment. We only had a few seconds to discuss plans before I heard a pop and to my right, two people appeared. A mother I had never seen clutched the hand of a little boy.
"Hi, welcome to Fly to the-" Amelia started but the woman seemed to have not heard her.
"Charles, I'll pick you up at three. Be a good boy. Bye," The mother said hurriedly and apparated away before we could say anything more. The boy was young, maybe 6 or 7, with a worried look on his face as if to apologize for his mother.
"Sorry, she's deaf," He said and shook his head. He had a mature face that didn't match his undernourished frame. Almost immediately after he stopped talking some more pops were heard around us and people materialized. It reminded me of Hogwarts, we would all wait for someone else to turn in the paper first before we rushed to turn ours in. Eventually 8:30 came and we called roll.
"People last names A-F will be with Miss Flintwood," Amelia yelled through the bustling kids. It scared me how confident she was. I was shaking I was so nervous. 5 or so children came and gathered around. I called their names in a voice different from my own. The children however did not seem to notice my nervousness and talked to me quite casually as we waited for our turn to get fitted for brooms. A girl aged 10, named Dorothy, talked to me as if I was an old pal.
"I've been coming here since I was 7, I'm pretty good. But Mum says I still have to come back. She says I'm too lazy," Dorothy said proudly baring a used broomstick. The other four children were hushed into silence by Dorothy's outgoingness. Maybe they were as nervous as me, I thought joyfully.
The first day went quickly. The other children eventually warmed up to me. Alexis, an 8 year old with her front teeth missing, had a knack for flying. She was probably on the same level as Dorothy though this was her first year at the camp. Charles, thank Merlin, was in my group and remained as somber as he had before. I had a pair of twins, named Michael and Timothy, I couldn't tell the difference between the two but they were both barely passable.
The hour taken for lunch gave me a chance to speak with Amelia.
"They've already got the hang of it mostly. What do we do for the rest of the day?" I asked her worriedly. I hadn't planned out what we were going to do; I just thought I would go with the flow. Amelia swallowed the bite of sandwich she'd eaten.
"We have a quidditch match at the end of the camp, just train them for that," She said simply. Suddenly a memory came of Amelia telling me the same thing months ago. Duh. I hustled the children back to my area of the field and explained to them the rules of quidditch. For such a young group raging from ages 7 to 10, I thought that the children would be a lot more disruptive. But as I explained they sat quietly and patiently. Alexis even raised her hand when she had a question.
The only problem was the twins. They just couldn't sit still. Oh no, they didn't talk when I was speaking but the two of them paced up and down. It was as annoying as someone jiggling his or her knee next to you. I just wanted to take my hands and make them sit still. They weren't hurting anyone though and they were listening to what I had to say so I let them continue. When I was done explaining the children had no questions.
"I don't understand why we had to listen to you talk about that for half an hour. My father used to be a professional quidditch player. I think I would know," Dorothy scoffed and mounted her broom. Her pompous manner made me mentally giggle. I let loose the enchanted softballs that I had learned to control the week before and let them fly free.
"You all need to catch one softball and bring it back to me," I said simply. The feat was easily done as there were some 20 balls floating in the air. The children all caught one and were back to me within minutes. I smiled and took the balls from their hands placing them in the bag they came from as the other 15 balls floated around me.
"You all need to catch one softball and bring it back to me," I said again as my smile widened. The idea of this game had come to me in the spring and I had been so excited for someone to judge it ever since. I had tried it once with Abby as a trial run, but it was a bust with only the two of us. This time the children scrambled over the balls and it took Michael (or was it Timothy?) a full ten minutes to finally make his way back to me.
"You all need to catch one softball and bring it back to me," I repeated. I heard Dorothy groan and whisper to Alexis "Why are we doing this?" as she mounted her broom. Alexis beat out Dorothy this time as Dorothy looked on in shock. A shy smile played on Alexis's mouth as she handed me the softball. In Dorothy's shock, Charles caught a ball as well. Dorothy was next. It took the twins 10 minutes to grasp at the balls that flew in every direction. I repeated my instructions and the five of them went off to chase the remaining only five balls flew in the sky now and I watched as the helpless children began to speed after them.
"Alexis, you need to move your whole body when you lunge! Timot- I mean Michael, you need to scoot up a little more- there!" I said yelling words of advice from where I stood. The time was quickly coming to three. I had to think a few nonverbal spells to help the children out. Timothy almost fell off his broom when the softball flew into his hand. At 3 exactly the children's parents came to pick them. When at last Charles's mother had picked him up, Amelia and I shared an accomplished smile. If each day went like this I would be in heaven. Paul stared in shock as Amelia and I broke down in to giggles. I was happy and oh so confident. Just the look that the two of us shared was enough to make us laugh.
"I had a little boy named Richard. His father called him Dick when he was dropped off so I was called him that. He gave me a death glare and said 'Do you even know what that means?' like it was my fault. And Pamela had gotten a Cleansweep Seven for her birthday and she's only 6!" Amelia and I said over dinner that night trading stories. I waved goodbye to Paul and Amelia and apparated to my own lovely abode. I found Stan reading a book in the living room and I went and sat next to him. He smiled at me and slipped a bookmark into his book. I smiled back at him.
"How was your day?" He said and kissed my cheek. Just those four words reinforced my love for him. Very rarely was I ever asked this, never by Hunter or by my Mother.
"I love you," I told him instead of answering the question. I ignored my racing heartbeat and leaned in to deepen the kiss.
I woke up late two weeks after the camp opened on Saturday, enjoying missing the sunrise. Stan was sleeping soundly next to me. Instinctively he pulled me closer in his unconscious as I tried to get away. I sat up, which was hard to do since his arms were wrapped so tightly around me, and kissed his forehead.
"Wake up," I whispered. One part of me was sad to awake such a cute face while the other part just wanted Stan to hurry and wake up so we could talk and kiss. Stan stirred and blinked up at me and smiled. Just that smile made me want to kiss him. After the incident with Maddie's wedding and with my dad, I thought my relationship with Stan would have cooled off. Every time I looked at him now though, my heart seemed to skip two beats and I just want to kiss him. This urge was sometimes hard for me to restrain. The weekend before I had publicly kissed him in front of Mum without even realizing what I was doing. I didn't know if Stan felt the same way about me still, very rarely did he start any kiss, but I really didn't care. I just wanted him.
"Hey, tonight we're going out to eat. I hope that's all right. I already made reservations," he said smiling. I did a little dance to show him of my approval.
Stan and I hadn't been on a date in a while just the two of us, since having sex we stayed home most times. I would rather do that anyway. Of course we usually went out with Paul and Amelia once a week, but that hardly counted. Amelia and I were to busy having a laugh to take notice of our beaus. Stan and Paul now had a relationship that bordered on friendship. Stan tried so hard to gain the approval of Paul that it was close to obsession.
"Do you think Paul would like this?" He would ask me when we shopped for clothes. Sometime he could be so funny. The day went by quickly with the promise of the date on our lips. I suddenly remembered mid conversation with my Mother, that I had been promised to pick the next date. I had already used one of the promised dates for a trip to an amusement park. I ended up vomiting on the teacups. I looked at my mother and smiled warmly at her. She rarely had news, and mostly we talked about my life. I wondered if she was very lonely. She didn't have anyone and I only visited once or twice a week. Maybe I should buy her a goldfish.
"…But the then Brenda told him that he would have to find a new assistant and stormed out!" Mother said finishing her story. I gasped feigning interest to the story I had barely listened to. "Brooke, there's something else." She said quieter and my head popped up. Her voice was eerie and I wondered what bad news there was now. "I want to tell you now… I've got-" She said and paused. My mind immediately wandered to the words 'breast cancer'. Of course no one in our family had ever had it but still the possibility loomed over us. "- A boyfriend," Mother finished faltering. My face brightened up as relief washed over me. The prospect that my mother wasn't ill lifted my spirits immediately. Plus I wouldn't need to buy a goldfish now! Mother looked at me curiously.
"I thought you would react differently," Mother said in a normal tone now. I smiled at her again in approval. I told her how I was worried about her loneliness. Mother laughed. "Oh, Lionel had been taking real good care of me," She said. The way she said the word 'good' made me want to vomit.
I went over to Amelia's house after lunch and found her knitting in the living room. She had been working on a yellow afghan since she had started trying to get pregnant. It was the first thing she had ever knitted, her mother had never taught her. She spent weeks researching the technique before she finally perfected it. She took it everywhere with her, every lunch we spent gossiping over salads she would be working on a hook and loom. Paul was outside mowing the lawn.
"He likes mowing the lawn by hand, it gives him time to think," She had told me once. Now as Amelia sat in the recliner with a half finished afghan covering her legs I wondered what he had to think about. Hope sprang into my chest.
"Am I going to become a Auntie Brooke soon?" I asked my voice cracking. Amelia broke into a smile. She tossed the knitting aside and pulled me into a hug.
"We just found out this morning. I was going to go to house at dinner and tell you. I'm just so excited Brooke! I know I should be nervous but I'm so happy. Paul is just beaming. He says he wants a girl. We would name her after you, but we already decided for it to be after Paul's mother. Before forever you'll remain her Auntie Brooke," Amelia said grinning and rubbing her nonexistent tummy.
"Oh you already know it's a girl?" I asked her. She blushed and turned away.
"I don't know if it is actually a girl, but I just feel like it is, you see. Don't get me a wrong, I will love a boy just as much as a girl, but wouldn't it be nice to have a girl first?" Amelia asked me curiously. I suddenly felt sick for a home I could call my own. I should be the one announcing my pregnancy. I sighed. Amelia and I talked for hours. Which room would the baby get? Would she have Paul's eyes? Would he like quidditch? Paul came in later with a sweat stained back and a huge smile. I had never seen him so expressive with his emotions. He went up to his wife and kissed her and Amelia giggled like a schoolgirl. They were so adorable that tears came to my eyes. I was so jealous that bitter aftertaste came to my mouth.
I apparated home soon after that, trying not to harsh the mood. Stan was sitting on the sofa with a book in his hands again. Every time I would come home now, Stan always had a book with him. I imagined he was bored, having to wait for me all day. He had probably went over to Mum's and played with Tyler but I was too distracted to ask. I walked over to him and grinned.
"Amelia's pregnant!" I said happily and Stan smiled too, more weakly than I would have hoped. Why wasn't he shouting with joy and happiness like I had been? Why was he wearing khaki pants in the middle of the summer? I looked at the clock on the stove. It was 5. Suddenly I remembered about the date. "When's the reservation at?" I said smoothly and heading into the bedroom to the closet. Stan followed behind me.
"Six. I can't believe I'm going to be an uncle!" Stan said and I figured that the news had settled in. I laughed and picked out a red dress that Stan said he liked on me before.
"Your real sister is pregnant, yet you are more concerned about Amelia's child calling you uncle?" I laughed. I shooed him out of the room and began to change. Usually I didn't do this but I wanted to take away his breath away. But 5:45, I was showered, dressed with my hair curling lightly at my shoulders. Stan did actually gasp as I walked into the room. I hadn't worn my good underwear in vain.
"Brooke, you look beautiful," he said and I believed him. Instead of pushing away and laughing like I usually did when he said things like this, I was instead flattered. I blushed. Maybe, it hit me, in Stan's eyes I really was beautiful. Maybe Stan had made me beautiful. We arrived at a high class Italian restaurant I had only ever heard of at 5:55.
"Oh, we're splurging are we?" I said laughing as the waiter led us to our table.
"Only the best for my woman," Stan said jokingly. I hit his arm and began to look at the menu. Everything listed was over 20 dollars I looked guiltily over at Stan but he just smiled and nodded at me as if to say 'go ahead.' I looked over at him in the dimly lit restaurant and I suddenly just wanted to go to the women's room and eat him instead of the dinner. I wondered if the lights were that low for a reason. The conversation was light. Stan had a few nice story about some wizards he caught selling drugs on his bus, and we went into full detail discussing Amelia's pregnancy.
"Uncle Stan?" Stan implored with a curious look. I shook my head.
"Uncle Stanley sounds better, much more professional," I told him as I took a sip of my red wine.
"How will I know the kid's talking to me if he calls me Stanley? I don't respond to that. It's got to be Uncle Stan, right Aunt Brooke?" Stan said grinning.
"That's Aunty Brooke to you!" I said in mock anger. He smiled at me, the warmth reaching his eyes. When the check came I was the one who offered to pay. Since getting my monthly salary, I had wanted to pay for everything, though Stan, always the gentlemen, always refused to use my cash. He wouldn't even let me see the price. I suspected it to be pretty high though from the way Stan's eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of it. He let me pay for the tip after that.
"I'm am sooooo tired," I said leaning on Stan as we exited the restaurant. "You wanted to get me drunk so you could have your way with me, isn't that it?" I laughed and laid my head on Stan's shoulder. He smiled at me.
"Drunk on one glass of wine now are we?" Stan said laughing and I laughed along. I was on a love high and I wanted anything but for the night to be over. Stan grabbed my hand and I was pushed into nonexistence as we apparated away. Instead of arriving at the skinny condo I had called home for the past few months, we arrived at the park. We were at The Park, the park where everything had happened. The park where we first met, the park where we exchanged our I love you's, the park of memories. Suddenly I realized. Tears pricked to my eyes, as I knew what was happening. It all made sense, the restaurant the way Stan had dressed. He smiled sheepishly. "I wanted to do it somewhere memorable," He said. He put one shaky knee down in the grass and looked hopefully up at me. At that moment I didn't think about the stain the grass would leave in the khaki pants, or that there were several families staring at us in shock. I was only aware of Stan's eyes locked on mine. Instead of being nervous like he usually was about anything serious, his gaze was unwavering. Even though he didn't say it, I knew he had to do this, it was all leading up to this, everything. That first time we met on the Knight Bus, when we were reunited, when I moved in, it all led up to this moment right here. It took all of my strength not to jump into his arms before he finished what he needed to say. I felt tears well up in my eyes as Stan fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a satin covered box. I fingered the necklace he had given me seven months ago. I had never taken in off just like I promised I wouldn't.
"Brooke, will you marry me?" He said in a confident voice. He wasn't cocky or pompous; he was just sure of our love. As he said the word 'me', I launched myself into his arms and kissed his lips passionately. I kissed him full of promises, full of our lives together. I heard applause from the muggle families gathering in the distance. I felt like I was on clouds as Stan slipped the diamond ring on my finger. This was it.