Chapter Four: Nargle-Less Journey
About a month after Dad's departure, three different letters arrived at the Leaky Cauldron – one was addressed to Mum, the second one to me, and the last one for Frankie and Eleanor. I tore open the envelope to my missive so violently that I practically ripped the written letter into two. I read Dad's note in approximately a minute.
Dearest Alice,
My best greetings from Hogwarts, little Ally! You'd love it here, sweetheart, it's even more magnificent than I remembered. Hermione Weasley's SPEW organization has apparently taken its toll here, for only human chefs now cook meals. House elves that refuse to leave Hogwarts often assist them. And strangely, the food has never been more mouthwatering!
There aren't many artifacts around the castle from the time in which your mother and I were students. Hogwarts has become much more modern – they have taken down all of the portraits from the Middle Ages and have replaced them with paintings of James' parents, as well as Ron and Hermione Weasley. The images in these portraits move, of course, and act so vile and crude, nothing like the people they supposedly are! The other staff members wished to have my image painted and hung up on the wall, but I automatically declined their offers. My students do not need to know that I was a war hero. That was a thing of the past. I am now a husband, father, and teacher – a warrior is nothing I am today.
The students are surprisingly very informative of the plants in the greenhouses. I expected Professor Sprout's teaching skills to have faded away over the years, but she left the Hogwarts student body with great knowledge of plants. Teddy Lupin is already at the top of his class in Herbology. Victoire and Dominique Weasley are doing respectively well with their different class levels, but they don't hold the unusual determination and spark Teddy has.
Well, now, you never properly met Teddy and the Weasley girls, have you? I promise that you will soon, dear Alice, we'll find some occasion to all get together…
I miss you all uncontrollably. There are only three more months until Christmas, and then we'll see each other again! Give your brother and sister a kiss from me, and then ask Mummy to give you a kiss from me. And I do have a feeling that you shall be meeting the rest of the Weasleys and Teddy Lupin quite soon…
Yours always,
Daddy
I reread this several times before I realized the questioning air my father had signed off with. Wherever was there a place where I would meet the legendary Weasley children and the Lupin orphan? I had been raised on numerous epics of these people's parents. There were Ron and Hermione, the always destined to be couple, and Harry and Ginny, as well as Remus and Tonks, the two unexpected couples. I remembered being told of Fred and George Weasley, the former having died in the War. Percy Weasley was always a favorite character of mine, with his pompous, self-centered attitude, and then his change of heart just hours before Fred's death.
Puzzlingly, I showed my letter to Mum. She laughed knowingly when she finished skimming it. "Alice, do you remember Luna Lovegood?"
I had a faint memory of this woman who had once visited us in Godric's Hollow. "Yes…a little bit…"
"Dear old Luna has been engaged since April. Her wedding to Rolf Scamander is this December, on Christmas Day, to be exact. Your father just found out the news from Luna herself. She's invited us to the ceremony. Dad wrote that you'd meet everyone because you will – at the wedding. It'll be in Ottery St. Catchpole, where Luna lives, and where the Burrow is. Do you remember the Burrow?"
"I went there? When?" My eyes were wide with astonishment.
"We took you there once when you were a baby. The Potters went with us. You and James were practically sabotaging the garden gnomes there." Mum smiled nostalgically at the memory. I smiled too, although I had no remembrance of this one day. "Molly and Arthur Weasley live at the Burrow," Mum continued, "along with Percy Weasley, his wife Audrey, and their two daughters."
"And what are Percy's daughters' names?" I asked.
And so on and so forth – I questioned my mother about everything she knew about the Burrow and the Weasleys. Finally, she could no longer answer my questions, for they were now deep onto the subject of the Prewett brothers. I had to refer to Hogwarts, A History for more on the Weasleys, the revised edition having included much about their contributions to the Second War against Voldemort. But even that beloved book of mine couldn't answer my questions. I spent the following day in Flourish & Blotts, turning the place inside out searching for the perfect book to answer every burning query I had inside of me. I was eager for information on more of the Wizardry world, and one of its major pureblood families.
London life grew a little better when I reminded myself of the upcoming wedding. I knew nothing about Luna, but knew from my parents' tales of her that I'd like her right away. I bombarded my father with letters asking for photographs of Luna, so I could add her image to the scrapbook I had started a year before that centered on all of the people I had encountered so far in life. It was in late November when he accepted my constant requests, and sent enclosed with his next letter a snapshot of Luna Lovegood from her sixth year of school. Her elongate, flaxen hair tumbled down her back, while her bangs were pulled back by a barrette that looked mysteriously as if it was made of butterbeer bottle corks.
She sat in the shade of a colossal tree by the school lake, her light, distant eyes keeping no contact with the camera. In the shot, her head was seen tilting to the side every now and then, as if she was absorbed in something on the other side of the lake. Luna was a dreamer – it was blatantly obvious by this photograph taken nearly two decades ago. I doubted that she had changed much over the course of time – I imagined her as pensive and comely as she was in the photo Dad sent me.
Fondly, I pasted the snapshot on a new page in my scrapbook – on the page that came after the one consisting of photos of the trunk-seller who came to the Leaky Cauldron every Thursday, and the rambunctious spinster who ran Flourish & Blotts. Inscribing Luna's name underneath her photograph, I mentally began counting down the days until her wedding.
Dad came home for winter break on the twenty-second of December. Throwing away the remembrance of the last time I saw him, I flung my arms around him when he stepped off of the Hogwarts Express on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Dad had been given the option of traveling home away from the students, but chose to ride back to London on the locomotive he had ridden so many times before, and yet, so long ago. Dad lovingly and gratefully hugged me back, exclaiming how I had grown and how he enjoyed reading my many letters. He then scooped three-year-old Eleanor up, plastering her neck with kisses until she was weak with giggles. If there was anything that made Dad smile, it was Eleanor's laugh.
My father joked around by sticking his hand blankly out to Frankie, who laughed and boldly stepped forward for a hug as opposed to a handshake. My brother was six years old, and had not yet reached the point in which a son will only wring his father's hand to show emotion.
I watched happily as Dad then shared a smile with Mum, leading to them embracing lovingly. He kissed her forehead, and then quickly gave her a peck on the lips. Not even twelve years of marriage had expired Mum's ability to blush – she was as red as a tomato when Dad kissed her.
Dad leaned down to pick up the luggage he had discarded to greet us. "Have all of you packed your bags for the wedding? We leave tonight for Ottery St. Catchpole."
My siblings and I nodded eagerly. We were to depart via Portkey to the Lovegoods' home, where we'd board until the day after the wedding. For both the next day and Christmas Eve, we'd assist Mr. Lovegood, Luna, and the Weasleys in last-minute preparations – Rolf Scamander wouldn't complete his current expedition until late Christmas Eve.
When we arrived back at the pub, Mum showed traits of her orderly nature by laying out her already-packed bags by the front door of the pub. Dad placed his luggage from Hogwarts next to her. The two went to serve the late afternoon crowd, whilst I guided Frankie and Eleanor upstairs to pack stray items. Eleanor was reluctant to not add every one of her dolls to her valise, and it became my job to hide the majority of her dolls in our closet, so only one of them was left over. My sister was in tears over this – instead of verbalizing her displeasure, she wailed. Ellie was still a baby, and didn't start talking normally until she was five. She stuck out her lower lip pettily at me, "Allie mean!"
I knew better than to argue back. It was then when it was time to call my mother from upstairs and tell her about Eleanor's miniature temper tantrum. I was terribly distant from my sister, and never mustered up the strength to argue with her when our relationship was already frail.
I shoved my photo scrapbook and camera into my carpetbag, and then hurriedly rushed back downstairs to place my bag with my parents'. We finished serving drinks to the last few customers, and then, once all of our patrons had left the pub, the five of us Longbottoms gathered together in a circle around a dusty, empty butterbeer bottle. I uneasily glared at the Portkey. Mum noticed my discomfort, and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Are you all right, Alice?"
I looked up at her, cheeks red. "Well…have you ever heard of a death caused by a Portkey?"
"Never, darling."
"But, it is possible, isn't it?"
"Anything is possible, Alice," Mum said, "but death by Portkey is practically impossible."
I eyed her wistfully. "Are you sure?"
Mum smiled and held out her hand. "Here, hold on."
I gratefully grasped her white, toughened hand. Across from us, Dad smiled, Eleanor in a piggyback position on his back for the journey. Frank stood between Mum and Dad, bouncing with excitement about this new method of traveling. I was still squeezing Mum's hand for my life when Dad inspected the time on his watch.
"Ten seconds," he announced. "One hand on the Portkey, everyone." Dad reached out and touched the butterbeer bottle with one hand, the other securing Eleanor on his back.
Mum and I each used our free hands to touch the bottle. My heart was pounding so loudly that I could barely hear myself breathe.
"Six seconds," Now Dad was bobbing up and down eagerly, eyes still glued to his watch. "Five and counting…get a good grasp on it, everyone…"
My mother glanced sideways at me, and chuckled calmly. "Here we go."
"Three…two…one…"
I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt a jerking feeling around my navel, and then I felt myself slamming down onto cold, wet ground. My stomach lurching, I opened my eyes to find the obscure, warmed-over setting of the Leaky Cauldron vanished. I was lying on my back in the chalkiest snow I had ever accounted in my life. My hair was already damp from being thrusted upon the snow. Peering around, I found my mother next to me. She was already up from the ground, brushing snow carelessly off of her robes. Dad was nearby as well; snow still stuck to his body as he assisted Eleanor and Frankie in cleaning off.
He turned his head to glance at me. Smiling, Dad asked, "All right there, Allie?"
Shaking suddenly because of the chilliness, I scrambled up from the ground. "Yes…I think so…"
"No deaths because of the Portkey?" Mum joked, picking snow out of my hair. "I'm proud."
As Mum fussed over my appearance, I peered around the area. We were on an average-sized hill, and in the distance, we could spot several houses and shops, smoke lazily wafting out of their chimneys. This little village was Ottery St. Catchpole – our destination.
Dad led our hike to the village's entrance, his eyes gleaming. He was going to see all of his old friends – although this place was no home to him…it was as if he was returning home, to the people he loved.
As we walked through the village, Dad's eyes kept shifting back and forth between several houses. Curiously, I questioned him, "What are you looking at, Daddy?"
Dad's hand was shoved in his robe pocket. He was apparently keeping his grasp on his wand, just in case. "Muggles have come to live here over the years. Wizard families like the Lovegoods and the Weasleys magically moved their own houses further out from the actual village, to avoid the Muggles."
"They did all that just to stay away from them?" I exclaimed in disbelief.
Dad nodded. "You'd be surprised how wizards can act around Muggles, Alice."
Finally, we left the Muggle quarters, and were now roaming through several deserted fields. Eleanor whined of being tired, and Mum carried her for the rest of the walk. Frankie, however, excitedly approached me with wide eyes.
"Isn't it great, Ally? Dad says that even with the snow, all of the Weasley and Potter boys play Quidditch in their apple orchard. He says that I can play with them as well!"
Quidditch was no interest to me at the moment. I rolled my eyes – both of my siblings could be quite annoying. "Very nice, Frankie."
We ventured further, with very little conversation. We bore blue lips and chattering teeth when we loomed near the Lovegood residence. But finally, we turned one last corner, and came face-to-face with the house we were searching for.
The house was quite odd-shaped, and slightly tilted to one side. Horns of different shapes and qualities hung from the circular windows, and numerous strings of tinsel hung from the rooftop. Dad and Mum shared a knowing look and laughed together. Dad then stepped forward to knock on the front door, which was painted bright purple.
There was a moment of silence after my father's knock, but soon, the sound of feet sounded from the other side of the door. We could hear several locks unclick, and the door flew open.
And there was Luna. Her image brought smiles to my face immediately. Although the only time I had seen her before was in a photo taken in her sixth year, I would have suspected that there had been no time between that photo and now. Her hair was even longer than in that snapshot, it now being in a lengthy, thrown together braid. A chord of red tinsel was placed around her head, like a crown. Orange earrings that looked mysteriously like radishes hung from her ears. Her eyes were misty and shone silver. A curious smile played upon her face, and her complexion was flawless. I saw no sign of age – no wrinkles, no grey hairs.
"Hello, Longbottoms," Her voice was like music. It was high, and sounded as if there were no worries in the world. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you made it here safely." She leaned in to us, and spoke in a quiet whisper, "They say the Nargles are on the loose this winter. Lucky that you didn't run into them on your journey."
She immediately fascinated me. As my parents and siblings stepped into the house to say hello, I still stood on the stoop, wide-eyed. Luna poked her head back outside, that strange smile still plastered on her face. "Are you coming in?"
"What are Nargles?" I blurted out.
There was a spilt second of silence, and then Luna's smile expanded. Her whole face shone when she smiled as widely as that. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she replied, "Well, Alice Pomona, we don't want to talk about them in the open, do we? They tend to attack when spoken of." She stepped away to let me enter. Enraptured, I walked into her home.
The first thing you saw after entering was a ginorumus clock on the wall, which was also round, like the windows. Instead of numbers on the face of the clock, unfamiliar pictures replaced them. "They're all of the creatures Daddy and I have looked for over the years," Luna explained. "A Nargle is in place of the twelve, because Dad actually saw one of them when I was a baby."
Behind Luna's back, I gave my father a questioning look. He merely smiled and shook his head. He said to Luna, "When did you redecorate? I don't remember that clock being there."
"We changed things around after the Crumple-Horned Snorkack horn blew up the house," Luna said cheerfully.
"It was an Erumpent horn, Luna," a brisk, matter-of-fact voice called out. We turned back to the clock to find a bushy-haired woman descending from a set of stairs that were located behind the wall. I immediately recognized this woman as Hermione Weasley, nee Granger.
"Ah! Neville! Hannah! You've arrived!" Hermione hurried forward to give my parents greeting hugs. She tickled Eleanor under the chin and planted a wet kiss on Frank's forehead, much to his dismay. She then turned to him, an expression of surprise taking over her face. "Why, Alice! How you've grown!"
"Thank you," I said, red-faced.
Hermione gave me a squeeze, one that seemed too close for comfort. As she let go of me, my mother asked her, "You're not staying at the Burrow with Ron's parents?"
"No. It's already too crowded there, with everyone else staying there as well. Besides, I wanted to help Luna finish up wedding preparations."
Luna's cheeks shone brightly. "Rolf comes home soon, you know."
I couldn't help but giggle at her comment. As absentminded as Luna as, it was possible for a batty person like herself to love – I had not thought this, it was my father's statement. I thought of Luna as a wonderful, independent woman, and as a new friend.
"Alice," Hermione's voice broke me of my thoughts, "Rose and Liana are upstairs, if you'd like to see them."
"Liana?" I raised an eyebrow. I was familiar with Hermione's daughter, Rose, who was a year younger than me, and the same age as Albus Potter, but this name was new. "Who is she?"
"Rolf's niece," Luna told me, the smile not fading once from her face. "Her parents were killed in a Muggle automobile incident, and Rolf looks after her and her older brother."
I gaped. Even something as tragic as two deaths sounded jubilant when Luna said it. But even so, I headed up the stairway, using my surroundings to find the bedroom I would share with both Rose Weasley and Liana Scamander for the few days I'd be here. The hallway, too, was circular – I wasn't surprised. I reached a room in the corner of the hall, and assumed from the high-pitched chatter that came from inside that this was the right bedroom. Just as I reached out to turn the doorknob, the door banged open itself.
Two girls were looking back at me. One had the face of Ron Weasley, with the same color hair as Hermione, although the texture of this girl's hair was straighter. Her eyes were unlike neither of her parents – the two pupils that stared back at me were silvery-blue, very uncommon in the Weasley family.
The other girl was taller than her companion, and although Hermione had said that she was my age, she looked about twelve. Her hair, too, was chestnut-colored, and ended just below her shoulders. Her eyes were a warm, friendly dark brown, and they seemed as if they were smiling at me, due to the twinkle in them. Plus, this girl was grinning at me, while the other still appeared startled by my sudden appearance.
"Hello," the taller girl said with a chipper tone. "You must be Alice. Auntie Luna told me about you." She giggled. "I call her Auntie even though she's not officially that yet. But I just love the word, don't you?"
Before I could get a word in, she continued, "I'm Liana Scamander. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck out her hand, both eyes and mouth still beaming.
"Hi," I said, suddenly nervous about Liana. She seemed very upbeat and hyper, which was the exact opposite of me.
The smaller girl smiled at me too, although her smile held no warmth, but nervousness. "Hi, Alice."
"Hello, Rose. Have you been over by the Burrow yet?"
The little girl shook her head. "Not yet. But we're all going over there for supper."
I glanced for a moment back at Liana, hoping that she didn't mind being currently left out of the conversation. But she still appeared blithe, even when picking at the string bracelet on her wrist.
"Have the Potters arrived yet?" I continued nagging Rose for information.
"No," Rose flopped down on her bed, a sign that she wanted to end our conversation. "But they're going to stay here as well."
I could feel my heart sink. I would have to share a house with that nine-year-old, sexist pig for the next four days. I was quaking with dread.
Liana impatiently slid off of her bed. "Would you like to go out to the orchard with us? Michael is there with some of the Weasley boys. They're playing Quidditch." She scoffed playfully. "Those boys will do anything to bore them to death, won't they?"
I disagreed. Quidditch was simply wonderful, and I often fantasize over making one of the House teams at Hogwarts. But despite my beliefs, I followed Liana and Rose over to the Burrow, and then to the apple orchard there. We found four boys there - Fred Weasley Jr., Hugo Weasley – Rose's younger brother – Louis Weasley, and one male that was alien to me. He was the lankiest of the four, but Liana said that he was only eleven. His hair was shoulder-length, and the most onyx color I had ever seen. His eyes were a piercing, light terracotta color, and when he looked over at us when we arrived, his eyes sent zings through my body. I then recalled how Liana had said that Michael – whoever that was - was with the boys in the orchard. Could this be that Michael?
Liana collapsed onto the ground aloofly, apparently not bothered by the snow. I plopped down next to her hesitantly, while Rose, feeling left out because of her age, sat a bit further away. We lay on our backs in the snow, letting the cold overtake our heads, while observing the boys' two-on-two Quidditch game. Fred and Hugo were on one team, while Louis was with the mystery boy. Liana cackled fondly as the unfamiliar boy took a nosedive as he tried to catch the Quaffle. "That's my brother, Mikey," she interpreted. "He's home from his first year at Hogwarts."
"What House is he in?"
"Gryffindor." Liana seemed proud of Michael. "He's the first one from our family to be Sorted in there too. Bit of a showoff, that he is, but that's why we love him!" She shrugged, laughing more.
Although still a little apprehensive about the unpredictable Liana, I liked her no-worries attitude. She appeared fun and feisty – as feisty as a nine-year-old could get, that is. I wasn't used to befriending girls, having grown up playing with James and Albus Potter. But this kind of "gal pal" relationship interested me. It seemed comforting to have a friend of the same gender who you could talk to about your feminine problems, and not worry about being laughed at. I decided then that I'd welcome Liana into my world right away.
"Alice?" Liana's voice sounded out. "I was thinking – have you ever had a best friend before?"
James's image flashed in my mind for a moment, but I shook it off quickly. "No," I said to Liana. "I haven't."
"Would you like to be my best friend?" Liana asked. "I've never really had a friend who wasn't my brother or a Weasley…it'd be nice for a change!"
"Yes," I declared. "You're my new friend."
And our friendship was formed, as simply as that. In the world of nine-year-olds, true love could be declared in a sincere, natural way, and no embarrassment would be shed. How comforting that world was…
Molly Weasley's shrill voice could then be heard calling us in for supper. Eager to enter the Burrow, I sat up quickly and didn't start brushing off the snow on me until I was halfway to the Burrow. Liana was a speedy runner, and appeared at my side just as I was approaching the door. "Oh, could I please go in first?" she implored me. "Ma Weasley let me make a seating arrangement for tonight, and I want to be sure everyone knows of it."
I allowed her to step in before me. She bounded off once inside, and I quickly followed. The first floor of the house was filled with people – all of the Weasleys, their spouses, and children, Luna, her father, and Michael. I didn't notice until I found my seating card who had arrived…
There was the card with my name written on it, placed on a chipped blue plate at the dining table. Luna's card was on my seat's left. Another card was on my right as well, with that cursed name on it…in Liana's crooked, red handwriting, it read:
James Potter.
