Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter or Good Witch. This is one of my ONC entries for this year. For this one I am using prompt fifteen, "Three women. Three secrets. Three tangled lives." Also, this story is for International Fanworks Day 2023 as the theme is crossovers. The twenty-fifth Froday Madness challenge also involved "women being awesome" for which I need to write 2k between Dec 30th and March 31 for that particular prompt, which would be the first six-chapters and 8.5k in words, but the story is hopefully going to be finished by the end of April.
Here is the timeline for Goodwitch for this fanfic, in part to help the Good Witch plot line up with Harry Potter timeline wise, but also because the timelines between the movies and television show for Good Witch varies.
- 1960, October 24 - Cassie is born.
- 1972-73 - Cassie and Regulus' first year at Hogwarts.
- 1979-80 - Brandon Randall is born. (Meaning he'd turn twelve in Harry's first year or the summer after.)
- 1982-83 - Lori Randall is born. (Meaning she'd turn nine in Harry's first year or the summer after.)
- 1998 - Cassie arrives in Middleton, making the time Brandon turns 18 97/98 school year or the summer after, and Lori would turn fifteen during this time frame.
Three Witches
Cassie Nightingale
For an entire year, England found itself in a world full of grayness, with even Muggles realizing something was off even though they didn't know a war was raging within the magical community. Yet in the middle of a world full of grayness was Middleton, a town somehow remaining oblivious to the grayness happening around the small town.
And in the small town left untouched by the grayness created by the war was a spot of grayness, left unchanged by anyone but the caretaker. Everyone in Middleton knew of the place as Gray House, the historical home made of gray-colored brick with a story involving a lady clothed in gray whose ghost roamed the corridors at night, grieving for her love who'd never returned.
Nobody knew why the house remained still, without anyone taking up residence, or why someone took the time to pay for someone to take care of the grounds, almost as if the place were waiting for someone to return home one day for whatever secrets came with them. A grayness also hung about the house, the site contrasting with the rest of the bright town.
And one day, as the grayness in the world surrounding Middleton broke, a stranger stepped off the bus with the route that ran outside of town. Cassie, the stranger, stopped and glanced around, taking in the brightness of the small village before turning her attention to a hand-drawn map. And then she was off, heading in the direction indicated by the map, her shoes clicking on the sidewalk as she navigated her way to Gray House.
With each step, rays of sunlight appeared to slowly pierce the grayness hanging around the place until, when Cassie arrived, Gray House was bathed with sunlight bursting through, revealing the beautiful gray brickwork in places. In contrast, the sunlight skittered about in other areas, moving as the trees shading the home moved with the soft summer wind.
Cassie reached out for the gate, stopping short. " Don 't come back, Cassie. " The hand which reached out for the gate lowered while the other gripped the strap of her purse tighter. Cassie's mouth twisted slightly, her dark eyes darting down to the ground. " Not until the war is over. "
"Well, it's over," Cassie muttered to no one in particular as the gate creaked open.
"What's over?"
Cassie's head darted up at the sound of a friendly voice as she looked at a man with hair slowly graying from top to bottom. "Oh. Sorry. I thought I was alone when I said that. Is this Gray House?"
The man nodded his head. "This is a gray house. Can I ask why you asked?"
She held out her hand. "Cassie Nightingale."
"George O'Hanrahan. I'm the groundskeeper," the man said, reaching out to shake her hand. "And I know why you're here."
Cassie straightened up as he shook her hand. "You do?"
"I was instructed to keep an eye out for you," the man said, turning his head to look at Gray House. "Whoever's arranged for my wage to be paid—they hoped you would one day return here. I guess since it's over, whatever it is, you can come home?"
"Oh, but I've never been to Gray House," Cassie said, her head tilting up to look at the rather large house as her hand clutched the strap of her purse. "I'm not sure why it was left to me, to be honest."
"Oh," George said, one of his gray eyebrows lifting. "Then I misspoke. Apologies."
"It's not a problem," Cassie said.
"You don't have anything with you?" he asked. "Your purse and backpack are the only things?"
"Oh. What few possessions I have will be arriving tomorrow. I wanted to see the place first."
The man held out his hand, indicating she should step through the gate. "Why don't I show you around."
Cassie continued smiling, her mouth shifting slightly as she looked at the place. "Yes. Let's look around."
She followed him, a strange feeling overcoming her as the man gave her the garden tour before proceeding inside to the main rooms, which he'd left alone as instructed outside of emergency repairs. And she discovered, despite the wear and tear, that Gray House was a relatively bright place. George noticed and let out a chuckle. "Were you expecting something else?"
"My past experiences with old homes I've some form of attachment to," Cassie said, continuing to look around the place. "They've been much darker, less welcoming. This place, even though I've never been here, actually feels like a home."
"Well, I'm glad you like the place," George said. "It's been my pride and joy taking care of this place,
"I need you to know," Cassie said, wanting to be truthful. "All I've inherited is the house."
"Oh. Don't worry. Whoever arranged for me to care for the place arranged for me to continue after you showed, but even if those funds paying me were to run out," the man sighed. "I love taking care of Gray House. It gives me something to do in my old age."
"I see." Cassie nodded her head. "And I can also learn from you?" She looked around. "I do know a bit about antiques."
"Yes," George said, reaching out to shake her hand again. "And it's delightful to meet you, Cassie Nightingale."
She opened her mouth to say something, only for the front door of Gray House to open. She turned her head, craning her head over the railing at the person who appeared down below, taking in the police uniform that the man wore. She stiffened, her free hand going to clutch the railing. "Oh!"
"It's alright. That is my son-in-law come to pick me up," George said before calling down. "Jake. The owner of Gray House has arrived."
"Oh," the man said, looking up. "I'm Jake Russell."
"Cassie Nightingale," she said, heading down the stairs to shake the other man's hand. "It's nice to meet you."
He looked around. "So, Gray House finally has someone living here? I guess Lori will find this place less intriguing to write about."
"Oh?" Cassie said, the corner of her mouth twisting in amusement.
"My daughter. She enjoys writing stories," Jack said.
"Is there anything else in Middleton she finds intriguing to write about?" Cassie asked.
"Just the disappearance of the Granger family last summer," George said, resulting in one of Cassie's eyebrows shooting up as she looked at Jake for answers.
"George. Come on," Jake said, his smile twisting into a frown. "It's bad enough that you and Lori's older brother encourage her with these conspiracy theories of hers."
"Did I open a can of worms?" Cassie asked.
"No. You'll find out soon enough about the dentist's office being closed since last summer because the Granger family mysteriously disappeared. Rumor has it that the daughter murdered her parents."
Jake let out a sigh. "No. That's just the story Lori made up. The parents left a note telling everyone they were going on a prolonged vacation to make up for not having gone on their honeymoon, and they might be thinking about early retirement."
"They're too young for early retirement," George said, shaking his head. "Not old at all. And what about how nobody has heard from them or their daughter since last summer."
"Their daughter is at boarding school, studying for her A-levels, but from what I remembered, she was quite the bookworm," Jake shook his head, giving Cassie an apologetic look. "Even the extended family believes nothing happened and that the daughter's simply forgotten to pass on any message because she's so engrossed with her studied."
"Ah," Cassie said. "That makes sense."
"See. Told you. And to think you and Martha didn't believe what I said made any sense."
"Martha?" Cassie asked.
"The town's mayor," George said.
"Ah." Cassie nodded her head.
"Anyways, we'd best be going to let you settle in," Jake said.
"Yes. See you tomorrow," George said, grinning ear to ear.
They left, the door clicking behind them, and Cassie headed into the kitchen, setting down her purse and shoulder bag on the table before pulling out the will and a few other items.
She paused at seeing a youth with black hair and gray eyes peek out at her from a picture, and one of her eyebrows lifted. "Oh? You decided not to be shy and not hide today?" The young wizard disappeared from the picture, hiding wherever he dissapeared to. She gently lifted her fingers from her lips to the photograph before saying, "Miss you dearly, Reggie."
She continued straightening the items out, pausing upon seeing something else. The corners of the clipping were starting to curl up while the title read, "HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED FINALLY DEFEATED BY THE BOY WHO LIVED," followed by an article detailing how there were actual witnesses to his demise this time. But what caught her eye was the picture of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and his two friends and the caption attached. Her finger traced over the name she'd just heard moments before.
"Ah. So that's what happened to the Granger family. She had her parents disappear to keep them safe," Cassie said. "So much for the local conspiracy theory, if I'm right about this being their daughter. Although," she frowned. "I do hope his followers didn't kill them."