On the ninth of September, Charlotte September Ollivander turned one. Her un-necessarily lavish birthday party was int erupted, quite rudely, by a square jawed ministry official wearing a set of Burgundy robes that made him look much too Inquisitorial for Amanda's comfort. He had close set eyes and heavy brows. His expression was something less than pleasant, if not openly hostile, and had he been a tall man he might have seemed commanding.
With an imperious wave of his hand, he said;
" Leave us. I'll need to be alone with the child. The parents may wait in the next room."
He refused an offered refreshment, then refused to wait for the party to end, which caused some dissension among the others. Many of those adult ' others' had been improving the available beverages for nearly an hour, and were well past tipsy and on their way to dangerously merry. Giles for instance, had been nursing several glasses of cherry punch that had been chastely flavored with brandy from his own flask, and his nose had begun turning slightly red. He had also begun to flirt indiscriminately with the others; Eloise, Winter, Philo, Patsy, Amele, Edward...even the man from the Ministry, who obviously thought he was being taunted.
The guests took it upon themselves to stall as long as possible. Amele and Jean-Paul were the first to attempt to leave. They reluctantly gathered Arden, Franchot, Renee and Wellis, who had been teasing Charlotte with a candy apple, and bade their hosts farewell. They managed to make this task last nearly forty-five minutes. Then Eloise stopped Amele to ask her advice on whether or not she thought the planets were in a favorable conjunction for the mixing of oil paints. Amele had to consult her celestial gadgets, and peer at Eloise's palm. After another fifteen minutes, she announced that it was indeed the perfect time for mixing lavenders, greens, and azures...but reds, oranges, and yellows should be avoided. Caught up in this fascinating conversation, she forgot to leave, and her recently clustered children sifted away again to play. Giles had to speak to Edward about a Quidditch score, and Philo had to speak to Amanda about a new philosophical society being founded. Stella had to clean some caramel from Charlotte's face. Then Winter and Amele had to both speak to Patsy about a series of novels--and they drew Amanda and Philo in as well. These tiny procrastinations were done simply for the sake of annoying the official, who was bouncing impatiently, arms crossed, occasionally checking the time on his little watch. He kept one wary eye on Amele's children.
" Excuse me..." he said after another half hour had passed and not a single guest was more absent than before. " I really must ask you to leave. I will be in trouble!" he warned, as if these people would mind.
Amele and Jean-Paul left first, promising to bring Charlotte her very own garden gnome on their next visit. When Amanda insisted they shouldn't go through the trouble, Amele assured her it was no trouble at all.
" I do have a new lot, just weaned, grwoing in the garden. They boys love to play with them, and JEan-Paul has found that if you catch the babies young enough, and charm out their teeth, they make very good pets. Or at least...they aren't dangerous pets."
After Amele's departure, which took two more tries, as Renee escaped the first Disapparition, and had to be sent back for, Eloise gathered Winter, Stella, Giles and Philo, and bullied them into joining her at Rookwood for a taste of antique vintage and a few games of Cosmic Curses, which was a rather unique Wizarding board game, much like Truth or Dare, in which a cheater is popped by a temporary curse for not answering the question. Eloise's 'company' board was tailor made so as not to ask any remarkably embarrassing questions, but if they imbibed enough '21, she might bring out her famous secondary deck of question cards.
Blissfully unaware of their danger, Giles and Philo allowed themselves to be persuaded. After a few dramatically drawn out goodbyes, Edward and Amanda were left at last with Charlotte, Patsy, the official, and a garden full of glitter, singing confetti,and multiplying balloons. Patsy was a real dear, and offered to tidy the garden while the others went inside. The Official wanted an empty room where very little could be destroyed, but the best they could offer on the ground floor was the library. Amanda wouldn't hear of him going upstairs, insisting that was an invasion of privacy. He could test Charlotte in the library, and they would wait in the parlor, close by. Every ounce of her demeanor suggested that she didn't trust him in the least.
The man, who was called Walters, was relieved when the door to the library closed, dividing him from the girl's anxious parents. He was a nervous sort of man at best, and had little experience with children. Why, of all the persons in the world had the Ministry selected him, he could never guess. All he knew was that since the first of the' law-children' had come of age, he had slept less. The children were exactly what the Ministry had wanted, powerful beings with little or no control. He had been cursed, jinxed, hexed and charmed. Set on fire, the target of flying objects, stung, bitten, and just plain kicked. What he personally fretted over, was the children that refused to do any magic whatsoever.
How was he supposed to give an accurate report? He couldn't force a child to perform magic; most of the time, they didn't even know how. Being an obsessively meticulous man, it gave him indigestion thinking that he might at some point mis-register one. And after a half-hour with Charlotte, he could feel the familiar burn and water brash of what would soon be a fully developed duodenal ulcer. He had instructed her to perform magic, and she was refusing.
Charlotte regarded him with her pure grey eyes, with much more wisdom than he was comfortable facing. Her gaze was steady, and expectant, one corner of her rosebud mouth drawn back in a wry smile that Edward would recognise as an imitation of Amanda, but what Walters saw as mocking. He was certain that any moment she was going to begin speaking, and tell him she was waiting.
So was he.
He showed her a lolly. Usually, if he were lucky, offering then refusing a toy or sweet would infuriate the child, producing a sporadic burst of magic. Charlotte merely cast a glance at it, then returned her eyes to him. She sat on the edge of her little chair, ankles crossed daintily, and her hands folded in the lap of her starched white pinafore. The perfect picture of propriety and patience.
Walters waved the lolly in front of her, and then pretended he was about to eat it himself. The very idea made bile rise in his throat-he abhorred grape-flavored candies. Charlotte only raised her brows.
Yes, I see you have candy. Isn't that lovely? her face seemed to say.
He sat down across from her with a sigh of defeat, and rested his perspiring forehead in his equally perspiring hand. With the other hand, he fished out a blue and bronze striped handkerchief, with an eagle crest in one corner. he mopped at his neck, and then his face, propping his chin in his palm to regard the child in front of him. She offered a brief smile of patient...sympathy? Perhaps.
" Now you just see here..." he said, weakly. " I don't feel well, and I would like to go home. All I need is for you to do something--anything. Can you understand that?"
She turned her head to the window, and he chided himself. Of course she couldn't understand. She was only a year old. Best to use one of the few successful means of luring out a child's talents. With a trembling wave of his wand, he turned a coin into a puppy. Charlotte returned her attention, and for the briefest moment, her eyes widened in surprise. She watched the puppy gambol about a bit, then turned back to studiously ignoring it. A kitten had the same effect. A balloon, a train. She knew it was only a charm, and watched with mild interest as he grew more and more frustrated.
With a groan he buried his face again. He knew she could do it. He had seen her fingers flex for a moment, seen the understanding on her face. He just knew that she could. But she wouldn't! He didn't like what came next. Next was when he had to be mean, and watch as the children's expressions changed from innocent to fearful. Angry, scared, confused--he could spray them with cold water, or frighten them with monsters. These were all Ministry approved methods, but he hated them. They made him feel low, like a monster himself. It was not his fault, yet he was the one who bore the brunt of the retaliations from the children, the angry words of the parents, the stares of hatred and blame.
He was taking several ragged breaths, trying to find the will to go on, or the courage to quit, when he felt a cool little touch on his neck. Looking up quickly, he found that Charlotte was now regarding him with a look of concern. He caught a glimpse, from the corner of his eye, a very small cloud, as it was evaporating.
Startled, he whipped his head around, but they were alone.
" Did you do that?" he asked.
Charlotte smiled impishly. Then, as if she were tired of tormenting him, she looked up at the amber glass of the gasolier, and a sudden shower of cold water began to pour. He took up his wand and stoppered it. She raised her hands and clapped lightly. Then promptly set the sofa on fire. He wanted to spring, but suddenly his legs were numb from the knees down. He couldn't move!
On the verge of screaming, he was surprised to find himself engulfed but unharmed by the flames. They produced cold air.
" Ch-charlotte?" he asked. " Please stop."
Insulted, she turned her head, and the ring of fire fell through the sofa, leaving only a puff of pink smoke.
" No...that was marvelous!" he siad honestly. Controlled magic...and in one so young! He actually smiled in his excitement. " Can you change this into something?" he dropped the coin onto the floor. Charlotte regarded it coolly, then slipped from her seat. She bent to retrieve the token, turning it clumsily in her baby fingers. When nothing happened, she frowned, and squeezed it hard. It suddenly shot from her hand in a hundred liquid droplets.
Her eyes teared up at her inability, perhaps to turn the coin into a puppy or kitten... but Walters was far from disappointed. He was on the verge, for the first time in his forty-two years, of bending a rule. With a glance around to be certain no one was watching, he held the butt end of his wand to the child.
" You mustn't use it on me. But...let's jsut see what you can do?"
Charlotte's clever eyes were suddenly greedy and wide. She took the instrument cautiously, knowing it was bad for her to touch a grown-up's wand. But just as a thousand other children applied invisible cosmetics like their mother's, or shaved their imaginary whiskers like their father's, Charlotte had spent hours pretending that her toy wand could perform wonders. She had watched the adults closely, and knew, even if she could not speak the words, several of the common spells they used, and a rough imitation of the wand movements that accompanied them.
Walters watched with trepidation and expectation as she waved it a few times, and sighed with both disappointment and relief when nothing happened. Just as he was reaching to take it back however, she forced it down, in a precise arc, her miniature forehead furrowed with the grim determination she had inherited from her father. A bolt of pink light shot from the walnut wand, connected with the sofa, and blasted it over backwards. She seized the wand with both hands as it began vibrating, and cast the beam of light to one side with some effort. An entire shelf of books emptied itself, one volume at time.
In the parlor, Amanda and Edward both leaped to their feet, and rushed to the door.
" Marvelous!" they heard Walters exclaim. The door opened suddenly on their knocking.
Walters stood blocking the total devastation from their immediate view, his thick brows met as one on his across his damp forehead, and seemed to be shaking hands in a congratulatory manner. Up and down, they bounced as he tried to catch his thoughts.
" Just a few more moments, please! Without interupption. " he closed the door.
Amanda bit her lip, but Edward took her hand in a reassuring manner, and led her back to their seat.
---
" I won't do more." Charlotte said suddenly.
" Just one--what did you say?" he stopped and looked down at her. She had flounced back into her seat and locked her ankles.
" No more." she repeated.
" Why, you haven't said a word until now. "
The wry smile had returned.
Casting a glance at the clock, he sighed. It was fair--he had kept her busy for three quarters of an hour, she must be tired. Not to mention he had ruined her birthday. Walters took his wand back from her tiny fist, and began restoring the room to order.
" Well, what else do you like to do?" he asked conversationally.
Charlotte began to play with a curl of her hair, and for a moment, he thought her look was almost flirtatious.
" Piano." she answered.
" Do you play it?"
" Yes."
" I would like to hear someday, but not today, I'm afraid. I have to go."
" What's your name?"
" Rembrandt Walters." he blurted.
" Oh." she said simply. " Well, goodbye."
" Goodbye." he answered, backing out of the door. She was still the perfect picture of control, her eyes never leaving him until he had stepped through the door and closed it.
" Charlotte? " Amanda asked, confronting him.
" Yes, she is in there. Quite all right, I assure you. May I have a word?" he directed the question to Edward, who, after a nod from Amanda opened the door to his study, and led Walters inside. Once that door had closed, Amanda rushed into the library.
Charlotte launched herself into her mother's arms, and Amanda knelt on the rug listening with awe as her daughter began babbling happily, tossing her curls to and fro and playing with her mother's jade brooch.
Amanda tightened her arms around Lottie, listening as words poured forth, some non-sensical, other's perfect. She found herself revisited by that same suspicion that had nagged her when Charlotte first said ' mama', so distinctly and then refused to repeat it. The child had been talking all along!
" Why, you cunning little witch." Amanda exclaimed, kissing her daughter's cheeks. " Well, I'll forgive you at least. "
Charlotte broke away and pretended to help Amanda to her feet. Then she led her to the piano in the parlor and asked with some words and many gestures if she could play on it. This was often her chosen reward for any good behavior. Her mother was about to refuse, since they had an important guest, but when she heard raised voices suddenly emanating from the study, she hurried to open the lid of the instrument.
Lottie could not yet clamber up on the bench, and even after she was lifted, she had to sit on her chubby knees to reach the keys. Without preamble, she began enthusiastically to beat at the notes; being at that age when cacophony was more pleasant than melody. Amanda, who was not at that age, chose to grit her teeth and wait patiently for news from the study.
It would be a lie to say that she was unperturbed by Walter's deliberate exclusion of her from her daughter's future, and that in part was why she tolerated the piano even with her own nerves on edge. She hoped, in the same malicious way that Eloise might hope for something, that it irritated Walters beyond reason. After all the Minstry had done nothing but irritate them for years.