Mini chapter, starring Joan.
As Joan and her daughter approached her father's shop, she began to remember many memories.
Like on Oct. 30th, 1987, she held her daughter for the first time in an emergency room near O'Hare airport after she had been born at exactly 12:00:01 AM. She was so small, barely more than 5 pounds and 16 inches long. The flight was taxing being 39 months along and the stress of holding a glamour charm for more than 8 hours was the final straw.
The second memory she remembered was the first flat she moved into with newborn Charlotte. She lived there for seven months until the neighborhood became increasingly dangerous. Joan had taken Charlotte out for a walk around the park next to the complex when she had heard the gunshots. There was a brave officer who put himself in front of her and her daughter to take several bullets aimed in her direction.
Magic could have saved that man, but she couldn't be discovered. The young mother took the next best thing and started taking the steps to become a muggle police officer.
The last memory was an event before the first two. When her husband died.
When Joan's husband died, she felt it then too the more she thought about it. She was exactly 6 months and 6 days along and Michael Fletcher was still in Diagon Alley, staying late to work on a rather specific commission dealing with Albus. Michael was special in his field as a "researcher" (he couldn't be more specific?) and his commissions with the Order worried Joan, but she kept her opinions quiet.
Joan felt it as her husband tried to contact her through their mirrors and spoke his last words.
"Love, I'm sorry. They're here and tell our daughter I love her and yousomuch andmy completedresearch isforyouboth, I've-"
Then he was gone. When it was safe to arrive to his study, it was burnt to a crisp.
"Mom?"
Joan didn't realize she had stopped a few steps from the front door.
She looked behind her at the three-way intersection, where at the very corner was a vacated shop that used to make her Ravenclaw heart flutter. Only now it anchored with a very painful weight on her heartstrings.
Looking back at her daughter- hereyesnothereyes- "Ah, sorry darling, coming."
The petite blond stumbled on a cobblestone and Charlotte caught her, looking at her mother's misty silver eyes. Charlotte's own eyes were strangely bright and clear, almost matching the whites of her eyes if not for the dark grey ring separating them from the iris.
NeverbeenhereyesneverevERNOTHEREYESNOTYOURDAUGHTER-
Joan's magical instincts were screaming at her to attack, but her maternal instinct to protect were just as loud.
Joan was on the verge of fainting.
"...ou okay? Mom? Mom!"
Joan said something under her breath as she heard the bells of the door.
It's a tough life for Joan, isn't it?