Shannon and Andrew sit on the floor of her room, the latter aiding the former in coming to terms with the revelation that she will be starting school within two weeks – and not just any school, but perhaps the most famous wizarding school in the world. That and she will most undoubtedly be in the same class as Harry.
To her relief, the boy appears to be a bit of a chatterbox, continuing on with conversation without waiting for her to respond.
"You really don't need to worry about anything," the young boy assures the girl with a childlike all-knowing air of confidence. "I'm sure Mum already has an idea of who to say you are. I mean, it's not like this is the first time this has happened and there's no denying you're a Logan – you've got the eyes, see?" He says as he opens his eyes wide for her to see the resemblance between his and hers. "Every woman in the main line has them, although some random cousins get them from time to time – only the women though. Men usually can't pass them on for some reason – usually don't get them either. Don't know why. Mum says it's something to do with our family being a matriarchy, but I'm pretty sure she made it up 'cause how would family structure affect genetics? I say she's full of it — but don't tell her I said that."
Excited and amused beyond comprehension, Shannon stares blankly at Andrew, her heart thumping wildly in her chest while only half paying attention to the boy as he talks.
"At the very least, you shouldn't be worried about school," Andrew continues, his hand fidgeting with his belt loop. "Ron'll be there to help you with whatever you need, I'll make sure of it. He'll do it if I ask. I'm just miffed that I can't go with. My birthday's August 31, so I'll be coming in next year with Ron's sister Ginny. She's alright I guess – kinda quiet, but she can handle herself. Kinda has to I guess, with all her brothers. Although she's not nearly as cool as Fred and George – they're a riot, they are. Always nicking the best stuff to send home. They once sent me a tap from the prefect's bathroom – no idea how they got in, but I'm not surprised. Mum actually let me keep it if you want to see it sometime – hung it right above my bed! She even enchanted it so that when you turn the handle the faucet pours out light like water."
Shannon begins to smile, finding the excited ramblings of the boy rather cute. She never had any siblings growing up, but her friends did. She had never interacted with them much, but none of them had been quite as forward or self confident as Andrew.
"I'd love to see it," she tells the boy, truly intrigued by the idea. "I always loved reading about Fred and George's pranks. In the first book they comforted Ginny by promising to send her a Hogwarts toilet seat."
A wild grin breaks out across the boy's face, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Shut it – are you serious?" He asks, an eager air about him as he leans forward excitedly. "Did they actually do it?"
Shannon shakes her head.
"Not to Ginny, but they do attempt to send one to Harry while he's in the hospital wing, only Madame Pomfrey intervenes."
"Bloody brilliant, they are," Andrew comments. "Ron may complain about them, but even he agrees they're wicked cool. . . So are they friends with Harry Potter, then?"
Shannon's smile widens with a similar mischievous air.
"Yeah, you could say that," she answers evasively, not wanting to say too much. "He and Ron are in the same year; they become friends on the train to Hogwarts."
Andrew pauses before turning to me.
"Wait. . . so Ron actually manages to make friends with someone other than me – and it's with bloody Harry Potter?" He asks in amazement. "No offence to Ron – he's my best mate – but he's not exactly tactful. The amount of times I've had to dig him out of a hole of his own making is stupid. We had him 'round once for dinner when Granny Logan was here and bloody hell was that a mess – I thought she was going to hex him right there at the table!"
Shannon giggles softly at the mental image.
"Yeah, I guess he isn't exactly known for his social graces."
"No, but he's a cracking bloke. Always up for anything, he is, and not a snitch neither," Andrew assures me. "He's a hell-and-back kind of mate."
Shannon hums softly, smiling at the prospect of meeting the actual Ron Weasley. Something tells her that her presence has already begun to change the story she knew, or rather, her family's existence has. There had never been any mention of the Logan's or even of Ron having another best friend prior to Hogwarts. She has to wonder how that has changed him, if it's changed him at all. From the sound of it, his character is on par with what she's read, but she feels she should hold off judgement until she actually meets him.
Shannon considers the boy in front of her curiously, a thought peaking her interest.
"Hey, Andrew. . . Have you been affirmed?"
Andrew's brows raise in surprise before his expression falls.
"No. Logan men don't get affirmed, only the women," he explains, his lips pursed in irritation. "The ancient magic doesn't get passed down to us, only eye colour on occasion. We do get the Logan name, at least, but that goes for everyone with Logan blood. That's why mum gets heat from the family – you know, 'cause she took dad's name."
"Really?" Shannon asks, surprised by the revelation. "Why's that a big deal?"
Andrew nods, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"It's to keep track of our lineage, you know? Keep track of the magic. But see, Mum basically told everyone to eat shit – said it's her choice to take dad's name if she wants – says it's a sign of her love. Mum's a romantic, she is, and stubborn as hell. She did concede and give me the Logan name though. Bit of a compromise on her part, but not a bad one. I'm proud to be a Logan, even if I most likely can't pass on the magic."
Shannon frowns, curiosity plaguing her. Andrew is proving to be a wealth of knowledge, which considering who his mother is, shouldn't be a surprise.
". . . Have you ever tried it?"
Andrew frowns and shifts guiltily.
"I snuck into Granny Agatha's study once and tried, but it didn't work. Orb stayed that liquid white colour. That's why I wanted to see you get affirmed – never seen anyone but mum do it before."
Shannon pauses, considering a moment before smiling at the boy.
". . . would you like to see mine?"
Andrew's expression brightens with exuberant anticipation.
"'You serious? Yeah I want to see it!"
The girl grins excitedly, eager to see it again herself, the memory admittedly phenomenal. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions the first time she saw it, but here with Andrew she feels more calm, more accepting of her situation – and much more eager to learn about her magic. Perhaps it is because the boy puts her at ease, his childlike acceptance of her dulling the heartache and confusion being ripped from her home has caused her.
Without another word the two rise to their feet and move to kneel before the ottoman where the stunning glass orb sits, casting a faint white glow from its core.
"Okay. . ." Shannon breathes as she situates herself, chewing on the inside of her cheek in anticipation.
"You just put your hands on it, right?" Andrew asks as he leans over the orb, the opal colour casting water-like light across his dark features.
Shannon nods and licks her lips.
"Yeah. . . just on the glass like this. . ." She trails off as she reaches out and grasps the orb between her small hands.
After a second the orb begins to glow white before erupting in a burst of colour, eliciting a curse from the young boy who jolts backwards, his eyes wide as he stares around the room at the rainbow painted across them and the room around them.
". . . Merlin's beard. . ." He breathes, his expression soft with wonder. "So many colours. . ."
Shannon smiles softly, feeling a bit proud as the boy's attention shifts to the small image of her in the orb, beneath which her affirmation is laid out once more.
Shannon Elizabeth Logan – Hale
11 years old (+17)
Status: A Witch of Founder's Line
Magical Affinity: Charmwork; Divination; Duelling; Legilimency
Castor's Magic: Catholic, All Encompassing
Inherited Traits: Resourcefulness; Creativity; Nerve; Dedication
Heritage: Disenchanted circa 1995 – 2013; Enchanted circa 1991 – Present
Title: The Adversary of Fate
"Bloody hell," Andrew breathes, his eyes never leaving the glass. "Are you a fucking ledge or something?"
"A what?" Shannon asks, turning to the boy in confusion
"A ledge – a legend, you know? 'Cause seriously, this is bloody bonkers," he clarifies. "It's no wonder mum's in such a tizzy."
Suddenly embarrassed, Shannon blinks in surprise before turning back to the orb, her lips pursed.
"I don't know about that. . . but I'm apparently not the first with magic like this. See there – a witch of founder's line? There are two others with that title who have similar magicks."
"Get-in – you serious?" Andrew asks, his smile growing. "That's wicked cool. . . and blimey, you're a legilimens?" He falters at his own words, turning to me with a pitying expression. "Granny Logan's one too. I reckon she's gonna want to teach you herself at some point. Don't envy you there – think I'd rather be a squib. The main line has trainings with her on Occlumency as soon as we enter school, and from what I hear it's a right terror. Can't imagine how it'd be for a legilimens. . ."
Shannon falters, her wariness of the woman growing the more she hears about her. From what she's gathered, Granny Logan is a formidable woman that has apparently high standards for her family members – and apparently has a contentious relationship with J.K. Rowling.
As the light of the orb begins to fade, a sudden thought sends her stomach sinking.
"Andrew. . . when your mom came here, where did she live?" The girl asks, wary of the idea of being placed with Granny Logan. She was never the greatest at keeping a kept appearance, which seems to be a point of pride for the older woman given what she's heard. "I mean. . . who did she live with?"
"Mmm," Andrew nods, understanding Shannon's unspoken concern. "Well, when Mum came, she got taken in by Granny Sissy – Granny Logan's daughter. She was the watcher here at Logan Manor at the time – you know, the one who monitors the mirror? She was adopted by her even though she wasn't married yet. I think they told everyone mum's a third cousin or something whose family died in a fire. . ."
"So does that mean I'll be adopted by your family?" Shannon asks curiously.
The boy pauses, not having considered that option as he furrows his brow to think.
"I. . . don't know. I think it actually has something to do with the family registry more than anything."
"The family registry?" Shannon repeats, her confusion evident on her face.
Andrew nods, considering the girl with renewed intrigue.
"Yeah. . . I think whenever someone like you and mum show up here your names just sort of appear in the family registry. . . although you're American, so it might be different. I'm pretty sure that's how you'll get your letter, too, considering you didn't technically exist until today. Actually since Dumbledore's headmaster, he probably already knows you're here. That old geezer's a weird one. 'Knows things as soon as they happen – even before they happen. Did you know he called me out once because I was planning to put frog scum in Ginny's pocket? I hadn't even tried yet!"
Shannon stares at the boy in surprise, reeling from the onslaught of information. It seems as though Andrew takes after his mother's chattiness and tendency for tangents – not that she doesn't appreciate that particular trait given how much she's learned since Andrew came to her.
Still, her mind once more turns to Hogwarts, of receiving her own letter. She had been so disappointed when she turned eleven and never received a letter from Hogwarts, and now Andrew is telling her she should be getting one – and soon, given the date.
". . . Does Dumbledore know about our family? About the mirror or the magic?" Shannon asks, the thought giving her an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She has mixed feelings about the man, who in her opinion seemed to look too much at the big picture when orchestrating the eventual demise of Voldemort. Not to say he wasn't a great and accomplished wizard whose heart was in the right place, she just didn't agree with a lot – most – of his decisions.
Andrew purses her lips and shakes his head.
"He shouldn't. No one is supposed to know about it outside the main family. There's a Fidelius charm on Agatha's library and everything. I only found out on my ninth birthday because I got the eyes, see? If I pass them on to a girl and she gets affirmed, she'll become the next head of the main line. Otherwise female cousins are brought in until the next line is found. . . although," he pauses, considering the girl before him. "I guess it's not necessary now that you're here."
Before Shannon can question the boy further (for his bouncing around between subjects while revealing such bewildering information has left her reeling), there is a knock on the door and Eliza's voice rings out.
"Shannon?" She calls as she peeks her head in, only for her eyes to light up in surprise when she sees her son sitting on the floor beside the girl. "Andy? You're up here too I see. Not bothering Shannon about her affirmation I hope?"
"'Ello mum," Andrew replies, shifting a bit guiltily, but Shannon quickly denies the woman's accusation.
"No, no – I offered to show him. He's just been helping me come to terms, I guess. . ." She trails off, unsure really how else to explain what they are doing. Despite technically being significantly younger than her, she finds herself more comfortable with asking Andrew questions than his mother. Perhaps it has something to do with her new age, but she feels able to relax with him.
Eliza, who looks a far bit more put together than the last time Shannon saw her (which is saying something considering she had been elegant in the first place), considers her a moment before sighing and giving the two a small smile.
"Well, I'm glad to see the two of you getting acquainted. Anywho, Granny Logan has just arrived and wishes to see you before dinner, Shannon. You too, Andy."
Nervousness shoots down Shannon's spine as she and Andrew share a look.
"Oh, um. . . okay," she breathes as she and Andrew rise to their feet. As soon as they do, Eliza pulls out her wand and ushers Shannon closer, muttering under her breath as she does. After a moment, a warm sensation falls over her, like a room-temperature egg being cracked over her head and slowly trickling down her body. The girl watches in amazement as her clothes and hair seem to fix themselves, the pleats caused by crouching on the floor disappearing before her eyes.
"Alright, you next, Andy," Eliza says, ushering her son closer and doing the same to him.
"Mum, I already showered and changed," Andrew protests as his clothes right themselves. "I don't need to be fixed."
"Yes, well you should have thought about that before crouching on the floor, eh?"
Eliza chimes, ginning down at her son pointedly. "Now, let me look at you both. . . good, good. Alright then, let's be on our way. Granny doesn't like to be kept waiting."
As she says those words, she points her wand at the tray holding the Orb, which levitates and approaches the three, following after them.
With that, Eliza leads Shannon, Andrew, and the orb down to the entry, where a familiar African woman stands elegantly. It takes a moment to realise she looks familiar because of the portrait of her that hangs in the sitting room that overlooks the garden. As they approach, Shannon observes the woman carefully, realising this must be Granny Logan.
The woman in question is striking with dark ebony skin and the brilliant, tell-tale Logan green-gold eyes. Her features are sharp and full, a true African beauty. She is tall and holds herself high, but that doesn't stop her from wearing black heeled boots and stunning emerald robes, both of which only add to her domineering demeanour. Her hair is hidden, brought into a beautiful satin wrap that is held together by a broach of a silver serpent. Despite being significantly older than Eliza and using a cane, she moves with elegance as she approaches the stairs with Eeby trails after her, carrying what looks to be a black fur coat.
When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Eliza places her hands on Shannon's shoulders as Andrew steps forward to greet his great grandmother.
"It's nice to see you, Granny," he says with a smile as he steps forward to give the stern looking woman a hug.
To Shannon's surprise, the woman's expression softens somewhat as she leans over and returns the hug.
"Hello Andrew," she greets, her voice beautifully deep with an accent that Shannon cannot place. "I see you have grown again. Let me take a look at you."
Her words cause Andrew to beam while he maintains a somewhat formal air.
"Almost as tall as Ron," he agrees as he pulls away.
The woman gives him a once over before humming in approval.
"Yes, I can see that. I also see you have taken my advice into account and combed that hair of yours. Much better if I do say so."
Andrew merely nods before turning back to his mother with raised brows, as though asking to move on.
Eliza seems to understand her son's implied meaning and gives Shannon's shoulders a squeeze as she urges the girl forward.
"Andy, why don't you go fetch your father and tell him dinner is ready," she urges pointedly as the boy takes off without so much as a goodbye, leaving the three women (and Eeby, who looks positively thrilled to have the mistress of the Logan household present) alone in the foyer.
With a polite smile, Eliza turns back to Granny Logan.
"Granny, I'd like to introduce you to the newest arrival to our family," she says, glancing down at Shannon before turning back to the elegant woman. "This is Shannon Elizabeth Logan-Hale. Shannon, this is our family head, Marceline Chamique Estoria Logan."
Shannon feels herself shrink somewhat, intimidated by the piercing gaze of the woman observing her. It almost seems like she is seeing through to her soul, which Shannon reminds herself is most likely true considering Andrew had said she was a legilimens.
"It's nice to meet you," Shannon whispers, giving the woman a hesitant smile, feeling rightfully intimidated after everything she's heard. Granny Logan gives the girl a cordial and somewhat sympathetic smile.
"Hello dear. Welcome home," the woman greets the girl, her eyes searching her carefully. "As much as we are delighted to have you, I must express my condolences for your loss. It is not easy for our family to return to us."
Shannon stares up at the woman in surprise, her heart wrenching as tears prick at her eyes. She had not expected such words from the admittedly formidable woman.
"Thank you," Shannon whispers, resisting the urge to wipe at her eyes. Something tells her Granny Logan would think it improper.
The woman in question hums as she continues to observe the girl.
"You really are older than Eliza was when she came to us, and an American at that. . ." She states factually, her voice giving no evidence of her thoughts on the matter. "I have also been told that you are quite an anomaly, but even so, it seems that is an understatement. You really should be more detailed in your writings, Eliza."
Eliza purses her lips and frowns at the chastisement.
"As I said in my letter, it's not something I felt comfortable conveying in writing. It's worrying to me that there seems to be a discrepancy in our records and I was hoping you could clarify some things – like why there is no record of two particularly famous Logan's in the copies of the affirmations and family tree."
Granny Logan raises a single, perfectly manicured brow.
"Is that so?" She states, not looking a bit surprised by this information as she turns to the young girl with renewed intrigue. "And these two Logan's. . . I assume you mean Florence and Jehanne Logan?"
Eliza starts in surprise as Shannon looks between the two with interest.
"Yes – that's correct," Eliza affirms as her brows furrow in confusion. Across from her, Granny Logan nods, her eyes gleaming as she studies Shannon.
"So we have a Witch of Founder's Line once more, I presume?"
Eliza and Shannon stare at the elder woman with disbelief, but before either can say anything, the woman motions for Eeby to retrieve the orb that floats behind the other two and for them all to follow her.
"Come, I need to see her affirmation for myself."