Shannon shifts uncertainly in her seat as her affirmation glows from within the orb, casting beautiful rays of light across the dim room. To her surprise, Granny Logan had not led them to the sitting room overlooking the garden, but to the study where the Sortis Mirror resides, as well as the portrait of the rather plump woman, who smiles fondly down at the three. Every few minutes Shannon's gaze shifts to the infamous Sortis Mirror, sending shivers down her spine at her experience with it just hours earlier. She'd rather not be back here so soon.
Across from the girl sits Eliza and Granny Logan, their eyes shifting between the orb and the scroll in front of them as the light begins to fade. Occasionally they glance up at the girl, but never address her, leaving her feeling like a prop or a piece of art for all the contribution she adds to the conversation.
As time passes, the desire to be back with Andrew up in her room grows. At least with him she felt relaxed – she felt normal, or as much as she could in the given circumstance.
From what she has gathered, her arrival to the enchanted is significant.
As if her situation wasn't already fucking confusing.
Granny Logan sighs and turns her attention once more to Shannon.
"It is true – you are a Witch of the Founder's line."
Shannon frowns. She already knew that. But what does that mean?
As though sensing the girl's thoughts, she continues.
"Unfortunately, there is very little known about Logan's who bear that title, only that those who do tend to be very powerful and that their presence has a large impact on history. It does not help that there have only been few."
Shannon purses her lips but says nothing, growing tired with the exhaustion of the day. The bed upstairs has begun calling to her, although she perseveres knowing dinner should be coming soon.
"But why are they not mentioned in the family records," Eliza presses, looking quite irritated. "They've been wiped from the registry and neither of them seem to have kept the Logan name!"
Granny Logan pauses a moment before leaning back in her seat.
". . . I do not know," she states simply, causing Eliza to narrow her eyes suspiciously.
Shannon studies the elder woman, an irksome feeling pulling at the back of her neck. For whatever reason, she has the impression that the woman is lying, which is further supported by the expression on Eliza's face.
"Granny. . ." Eliza breathes with exasperation. "How are we supposed to help Shannon transition if you don't tell us what this is all about?"
"Just as you would any other daughter from the Disenchanted. She has much to learn if she is to start Hogwarts this year," the woman states firmly, her hazel eyes gleaming in the dim light. "It is surprising that she has been brought here at such an age. There is much she needs to understand and not much time to do so."
Eliza flushes with anger as she stares down Granny Logan, the purse of her lips and red splotches on her cheeks conveying just how much restraint she is practicing by not yelling outright at the older woman. After a moment, Eliza takes a breath to calm herself, a somewhat bitter and cheeky smile pulling at her lips.
"Well that won't be an issue seeing as Shannon already knows about the Wizarding World," she states with a somewhat mocking lilt to her voice. "As far as I've seen, there is little that needs to be taught in the first place. She's not like me or anyone else from the Disenchanted – she might as well have grown up here herself!"
Granny Logan stiffens, seeming to falter at this news as she looks between the two curiously.
"I beg your pardon?"
An antagonistic grin pulls at Eliza's lips, surprising Shannon. The woman is much more worked up over the elder woman's evasiveness than the girl herself.
"Oh, yes – did I not mention that there is apparently a very prominent book series centred around the Wizarding World in Shannon's time? Or that it was apparently written by a certain J.K. Rowling?"
Granny Logan freezes at Eliza's words, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looks to Shannon with the beginnings of outrage.
"J.K. Rowling. . . you don't mean –"
"Seer Rowling? Yes, it looks to be her. She apparently has made quite a name for herself as an author, particularly in her writings about the life of the Potter boy and the return of He Who Must Not Be Named."
Granny Logan visibly blanches at Eliza's words, her eyes far away as she turns her attention to the portrait above the desk.
"Impossible. . ."
Eliza huffs.
"Obviously not, seeing as Shannon knows practically everything about this world."
Granny Logan pauses a moment before rising to her feet and addressing the portrait.
"Madam Helga, the seal if you please."
The woman in the portrait gives a soft smile and bows her head just as the portrait swings open to reveal a pair of gilded wings etched into the navy wallpaper. Shannon watches in amazement as the elder woman strides forward purposefully, pulling her wand from her robes as she does so. A yelp escapes the girl's lips when the woman grips the shaft of her wand and brings it down in a smooth motion, followed by the trickling of blood down its handle.
Eliza's anger falters, her jaw slack as she looks between the portrait and the elder's hand with an intrigued and horrified expression.
"What – Merlin's beard, Granny! What in the bloody hell –"
"Language, Eliza," the elder woman chastises with a firm glare as she opens her hand to reveal a long slit down her palm.
Without another word, Granny Logan places her hand in the centre of the wings, her blood streaking across the image like paint. Almost immediately, the outline begins to glow as the outline of what looks to be a large cabinet appears around it. Slowly the doors open, to reveal what appears to be a hodgepodge of items.
On the top two shelves sit about fifty vials of a milky white substance that glow faintly, small tags attached to their tops. The next shelf contains a few hard cover books and journals, a pearl the size of a golf ball laying on a navy pillow, an antique silver hand mirror and a matching key, a leather bracelet, and a golden feather floating in a glass casing, similar to that of the rose from Beauty and the Beast. The bottom shelf displays what looks to be an obsidian sword with a gilded handle, a pearl dagger, a silver cat's collar, and a silver pocket watch, opened to reveal that it had stopped working some time ago.
Anxiously, Granny Logan begins to look through the vials, muttering under her breath.
"Granny! What in Godric's name is all this?" Eliza blusters as she approaches the cabinet with wide eyes.
While the two women begin to argue, Shannon stares entranced at the contents of the cabinet, familiarity washing over her and igniting a sense of longing in her chest.
No, not just longing, she realises. It's more than that – like her soul is being pulled in a million directions all at once. Love, sadness, desire, hope, fear, heartache, loss, anger. . . it's overwhelming and leaves her reeling.
Before Shannon knows what she is doing, she rises to her feet, moving as if called by the items. The young girl approaches the shelf, entranced as Granny Logan gives an exasperated sigh, cutting off Eliza's questioning with a frown as she nurses her hand with an emerald handkerchief.
"It's gone," the elder woman states, her expression a mixture of anxiety and outrage.
"What is?" Eliza presses, her face flushed. "Granny, you need to explain what is happening here. What is gone? What is all this?"
Granny Logan sighs and clenches her fists, closing her eyes as she pauses to think.
"The Founder's origin memory. . . it's gone."
Shock flashes across Eliza's face.
"Excuse me? The Founder's what?"
Granny Logan's rigid demeanour falters as she takes her seat once more, her eyes never leaving the cabinet.
"The original memory provided by Helga herself. . . She must have got a hold of it somehow, that Seer Rowling. . . It's the only explanation. . ."
Eliza blinks in confusion.
"Granny, please. What is going – Shannon?"
Eliza's attention is diverted as the young girl steps in front of her, running her small fingers along the objects along the bottom shelf. Granny Logan's head snaps to the girl, watching her closely.
Shannon pauses, her brow furrowed.
"These things. . . I think – I think they're mine. . ." She trails off as flashes of broken memories race across her mind, too quickly for her to get a proper grip on them. Despite that, a possessive feeling pools in her chest, not only of the objects themselves, but of the oddly familiar faces in the memories. Frowning, she turns to Granny Logan. "Where did you get these? Why are they so. . . familiar?"
Granny Logan purses her lips, pausing as she chooses her words carefully.
"Unfortunately, I do not know," the elder woman replies firmly. "All I know is that as the family head, I am tasked with keeping a tab on the items here. No one should have known about the seal, let alone its contents, yet somehow that blasted seer got ahold of the most important memory. . ."
"I beg your pardon?" Eliza asks, her brows so high up her forehead that Shannon is surprised they haven't disappeared into her hairline.
"I believe Seer Rowling is trying to force the fruition of a prophecy," Granny Logan sighs, looking as though she has aged significantly.
Shannon and Eliza stare at the woman in shock, but before either can respond to the woman's claim, a pop echoes through the room as Eeby appears before the eder woman, bowing low.
"Pardon Eeby's intrusion, miladies. Dinner is served."
A few days later
Shannon shifts in her seat within the towncar, her leg jittering with nerves. Her lips purse as she claws at the high neckline of her dress, feeling claustrophobic in the modest finery. The fitted navy dress has a harsh stitching that buttons up right to her chin, leaving her feeling like she is being suffocated.
It's been a few days since Shannon first came to the Enchanted – came home as Eliza likes to remind her. While the first day had been a whirlwind of information and revelations, it had left a bittersweet taste in the girl's mouth, especially since the conversation with Granny Logan had been cut off and never resumed, much to Shannon and Eliza's irritation. Overall, it's been a transition with an array of ups and downs that's left Shannon in a constant state of wariness and confusion. Granny Logan seems to know more than she says, not that she appears keen on sharing, much to Shannon's annoyance – Eliza's even more so, if that is possible. As an Archivist, not being given the information she desires appears to make her particularly irritable.
Ever since that first night, the door to Agatha's study has been locked shut, allowing neither Shannon nor Eliza into the room as Granny Logan investigated the scene thoroughly. Despite their pestering of the elder woman, not much else had been revealed on the subject of the memory, Seer Rowling's intentions, or the mysterious cabinet filled with objects that seemed to call to the girl.
Still, Shannon feels that she has more to worry about than whatever is going on with Rowling or that cabinet, such as adjusting to her new life. For one thing, being thrown back in age has left her increasingly frustrated, especially at the realisation that she will need to go through puberty all over again.
"Do not fidget," Granny Logan chastises her from the opposite seat, her voice stern as her hazel eyes give the girl a once over. It had been the woman herself who had provided the choice of clothing, stating it was necessary for the process they are about to undergo. "A Logan must be controlled and elegant at all times. Discomfort is to be endured and handled with grace."
Across from her, Andrew smirks, giving the girl a look that conveys an 'I told you so' attitude. Shannon has to resist the urge to scowl but says nothing as she turns her gaze out the window to watch the gloomy London sky, clenching her fists into the fabric of her skirt.
"Granny, go easy on her," Eliza instructs from her seat beside Shannon, giving the girl's hand a squeeze.
The woman in question seems to stiffen – a feat considering the rigidness she already carries herself with.
"I shall not. Shannon is the next heir of the Logan line. She must learn how to carry herself like one, for all eyes will be on her as the future of the household."
Eliza purses her lips but says nothing, turning to give Shannon a sympathetic smile.
She's been getting a lot of those lately.
On the other hand, Andrew snickers silently, quite relieved to not be under the same pressures as the girl. Catching sight of his cheshire expression, Shannon discretely presses the edge of her heel into the toe of the boy's shoe, a smirk of her own growing when she sees him wince. The two have grown closer over the last few days, namely because he seems to be the only one to treat the girl with an air of normalcy.
"Everything alright back there?" Henry calls from the driver's seat, his dark eyes catching his wife's in the rearview mirror.
"How long until we get there, dad?" Andrew asks, sounding just as suffocated as Shannon feels.
"Just another minute. Gotta find a place to park the car," he assures the boy, sending him a wink as he pulls into a traffic circle.
"Drop us off at the booth first," Granny Logan interjects before turning to Eliza with an expression of distaste. "Your insistence to use the guest entrance is appalling."
Eliza purses her lips, her irritation with the elder wan bubbling to the surface once more.
"This is an important moment for us all as a family. I will not have us arriving separately. The children must use this entrance, therefore so shall we. I told you you were welcome to meet us there."
Granny Logan huffs and turns her gaze out the window.
"Just here, Henry," the elder woman tells the man with finality.
At her command, Henry pulls the car off to the side and gets out to open the door and aid the group in their exit of the vehicle. Once out, he kisses his wife on the cheek and relays that he will meet them inside.
"Right then. On our way," Eliza states as she gives the two children a warm smile. "Hold hands please."
Without so much as a grumble, Andrew reaches out and takes Shannon's hand as the two follow after the two women in the direction of what looks to be a broken bright red phone booth in disarray, hidden in the corner of a graffiti laden alley.
It's no wonder Granny Logan was so irritated at having to use it.
"Nervous, Shan?" Andrew whispers with an edge of teasing to his voice.
Shannon shakes her head, a smile growing on her lips.
"You kidding? We're about to enter the Ministry of Magic. A week ago I thought this place was fiction. I'm on cloud nine."
"You'd have to be to go anywhere in that. You look like an antique," he laughs, eyeing the girls' admittedly old fashioned ensemble.
Shannon scrunches her nose and resists the urge to trip the boy whose hand she holds.
"Shut up. I don't have any other clothes. This was your mom's when she was my age – or I guess my new age," Shannon frowns, adjusting the navy knitted cap on her head, the wool yarn itching her scalp through her hair. "We're supposed to go shopping later, but for now I'm stuck with this shit. . . Fuck, this is so uncomfortable! How did your mom endure this?"
"Language, Shannon! And do not fidget!" Andrew whispers in a high voice, giving an undoubtedly accurate impression of Granny Logan.
Shannon turns to the boy in surprise and lets out a laugh, surprised by the ballsiness of the boy's action considering the woman herself is present.
"Come along, you two!" Eliza calls back, holding the door to the phone booth, Granny Logan nowhere to be seen.
Shannon and Andrew follow after the woman obediently, shuffling into the cramped booth along with the woman.
"Right then," Eliza breathes as she removes the receiver from the dangling apparatus which looks ready to fall off its hinges at any moment. "Ready?"
Shannon and Andrew nod as Eliza begins dialling the phone, biting her lip as she does so. As soon as she is done, a woman's voice echoes from beside Shannon, causing her and Andrew to jump in surprise.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
Eliza glances down at the two children with a smile before turning back to the apparatus.
"Eliza Smith, Archivist for the Magical Research Department, Andrew Logan, and Shannon Logan for Family Registry and the Department of Magical Education."
"Thank you," the woman's voice echoes once more. "Visitors, please take the corresponding badges and adhere them to the front of your robes."
Immediately, there is a rattle and a clink as two silver badges fall from the spare change chute.
Taking them with a scoop of her hand, Eliza eyes them quickly before handing them to each child with a nod as the voice continues.
"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."
Heart beating loudly in her chest, Shannon glances down at the badge in her hand.
Shannon Logan, Family Registry and Department of Magical Education
Excitement pools in her stomach as the telephone box shudders and begins to descend as an elevator – or a lift, as Andrew teased when she told him what it would be like, sending a million thoughts through Shannon's head as she processes the accuracy with which J.K. Rowling had depicted this process.
Soon the group is enveloped in darkness as the lift seems to descend further and further into the earth. Hand in hand, Andrew and Shannon watch with wonder as light appears at their feet, steadily growing until a grand view of the Ministry appears before them through the broken glass.
"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."
With those last words from the booth, the lift comes to a halt and the door springs open as though ushering them out. Before them stands Granny Logan, her lips pursed as she watches the three exit, Shannon and Andrew pinning their badges to their chests hastily as they do.
"Alright then, to security," Eliza states with a smile as she begins to lead their small group across the dark oak floors of the vast atrium which seems to be lined with rows of seemingly endless fireplaces.
Shannon's heart thuds heavily in her chest as she takes in the admittedly magnificent architecture. The vast ceiling seems to have no end like the night sky, littered with gold symbols that move across the blue backdrop as though alive. In the centre of the atrium stands what Shannon knows to be the Fountain of Magical Brethren, the same fountain that eventually is removed and replaced when Voldemort infiltrates the Ministry. The thought causes Shannon's stomach to churn, picturing the awful replacement in her mind's eye. As they walk, flashes of green fire erupt from their sides at random intervals as witches and wizards arrive and depart. Soon Shannon's attention shifts to the witches and wizards themselves, stunned by their attire and the sheer number of them.
Eventually they arrive at the golden gates at the end of the hall, the true entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Just inside said gates sits a desk, above which floats a sign with the word 'Security' written in large block letters. Beneath the sign sits a middle aged man with the beginnings of a pot belly reading the Daily Prophet. To Shannon's surprise, his shockingly bright blue robes are somewhat dishevelled and it appears he is in dire need of a shave.
As the Logan's approach, Granny Logan stiffens as a scowl forms on her lips.
"What is the meaning of this?" The woman chides as she steps in front of the desk, her cane and heels clicking against the floor as she does so.
The man's tired eyes slowly rise from the page, seemingly unperturbed – that is, until he catches sight of the matriarch of the Logan family glowering down at him. Instantly the man is on high alert, the paper slipping from his hands to the floor as he jumps to his feet, adjusting both his robes and wizard's cap as he goes.
"Ma–Ma'am Logan! I – we weren' expec'in yeh today –"
"That should hardly matter," Granny Logan chastises the man, her voice low with disdain. "You are the first face seen upon entering. Your appearance should never be this. . . slovenly. It reflects poorly on the Ministry, England, and our administration."
"Righ' yeh are, Ma'am," the man stammers in his thick accent as he continues to fuss over his appearance. "Um, uh, wha–wha' can ah do yah for this mornin'?
Granny Logan's eyes narrow, but before she can say anything else, Eliza steps forward, drawing the man's attention.
"Good Morning, Marty," Eliza greets the man with a warm smile. "We're here with the children today. Would you mind. . .?"
"Miss 'Liza – oh, o'course,'' the man named Marty greets the woman as he swipes a long golden rod from the desk as he rounds the table and catches sight of the two children for the first time.
"Well, 'ello there! Ah didn' know yeh had two youngins," he states with a smile as he waves the long rod along the front and backs of the two children.
"In a few hours we will," Eliza clarifies, giving Shannon a warm smile. "Shannon here is a relative from America. We're here to file her with the family registry and sort out her school situation."
Marty's face fills with surprise before turning to the young girl, who shifts awkwardly under his gaze.
"Tha' so? Ah'll tell yeh wha' – yeh got sum good luck, yeh do. Yeh coul'n't ask fer a bett'r family ter take yeh in," he tries to assure the girl, giving her a small smile as he places the rod back behind the counter.
Shannon gives the man a smile in return, her heart panging at the memory of her family in the Disenchanted, forcing herself to remember that while she is hurting, they are not. Despite that, she still has to swallow the lump that has risen in her throat.
At that moment, Henry arrives, placing his arm around his wife and greeting the security wizard cheerfully.
"Bonjour Marty," he says as he shoots the man a brilliant smile. "Having a good morning?"
Marty grins as he tips his cap to the new arrival.
"As good as ah can," the man says before turning to the group in general. "'Ight then. Yer clear. 'Ave a good day!"
"I expect you to be properly groomed the next time we meet, young man," Granny Logan adds as she turns away in a huff.
Pursing her lips, Eliza says goodbye to Marty and urges the group to follow after the elder woman, who despite her age moves quickly.
Soon the whole family reaches the end of the hallway and enters one of the twenty or so gilded lifts that lined along the walls, each bustling with witches, wizards, and hovering paper aeroplanes that do small swoops over the peoples heads as they wait for their floor.
A moment later the family exits the lift for the Historical Research Committee, which turns out to be a library of sorts that rivals that of the Library of Congress in Shannon's mind, albeit a magical one with fluttering paper planes zooming over head while a handful of witches and wizards sit hunched over in the desks, buried under mountains of books, newspapers, and leaflets, their quills scrawling across their notebooks faster than Shannon believed possible. A few even seem to have enchanted additional quills to write alongside them, dictating one thing what writing another.
"Just over here now," Eliza tells the group while calling out good mornings to her coworkers.
The woman leads her family to a small desk in the back corner behind a staircase, where an extremely small witch of about twenty-five shuffles papers between piles, her wand stuck in her short brown curls as she works.
"Good morning, Cassandra," Eliza greets with a congenial smile as the children look around curiously.
The small witch jerks up with a start, a startled look on her face as her cat-eyed glasses slip down her heavily freckled nose. When she sees the group before her, a smile breaks across her lips, a sparkle in her pale blue eyes.
"Lizzie!" Cassandra cries happily before glancing down at the watch on her wrist that was partially concealed under her pale pink robes. "You're here right on time."
"A Logan is always punctual," Granny Logan states firmly, studying the somewhat dishevelled girl smiling up at her curiously.
"That's our Liz, alright – punctual to a 'T, she is!'" The girl chimes, not affected by the woman's naturally severe nature. "Any who, let's get down to it shall we? Do you have the paperwork I asked for?" She says as she rifles through a stack of papers and pulls out a folder from the bottom of one of her stacks. There seems to have been a charm in place, for when she pulled the folder, the ones above it float up momentarily for easier access before setting themselves down neatly.
Shannon watches the girl work in wonder as Eliza produces a rather thick manila folder from her purse and holds it out for Cassandra to take.
"Smashing!" The young witch cries as she takes the paperwork and begins to finger through it. "And our matriarch has the family seal?
"Of course." With those words, Granny Logan steps forward and places on the edge of the desk what appears to be a gold and silver stamp engraved with the symbol of a heart being pierced by three wands.
"Lovely, lovely," Cassandra replies with a warm smile as she continues to peruse the paperwork. "And we have the girl in question here with us today?"
There is a pause in which Andrew nudges Shannon's shoulder, prompting her to answer.
"Wh–oh, um, present. . ." Shannon trails off, pursing her lips when she catches Granny Logan's disapproving gaze.
"So you are! Can you just place your hand on the page there? Yes, right there," Cassandra instructs motioning to a corner of the paperwork. As soon as Shannon touches the paperwork, the sheet begins to glow softly before returning to normal.
"Right then, and we have the adoptive parents – clearly," she says with a small laugh as Eliza and Henry smile down at the cheerful witch. "And even the brother! How exciting!" She adds, giving Henry a brilliant smile before laying out the paperwork on the edge of the desk in front of them while producing a black feather quill and a small pot of ink.
"Please check everything over, if you will. Now, I have it in my records here that Miss Shannon is the great grand niece of the esteemed Madam Marceline here from her first marriage to Mister Alfonso Figeroa, making Miss Shannon the only daughter of Mister Thomas Logan and Missus Guadalupe Castro – is that correct?"
Shannon starts in surprise at the mention of her parents' names, not having expected them to come up – especially with the name Logan. Her heart burns as Eliza answers for her.
"Yes, that is correct," Eliza hums, placing a comforting hand on Shannon's shoulder.
Cassandra hums and moves on.
"And the reason for the adoption is. . . oh dear; death of guardians? Oh – oh my. . . My condolences. . . I hadn't realised. . ." Cassandra trails off, quite obviously horrified with herself as she looks between Eliza and Shannon anxiously. Seeing that no one is keen on commenting on the subject, Cassandra continues, but this time with a more subdued demeanour. "Any who. . . it looks as though everything is in order. I will just need signatures from both adoptive parents and for our lovely matriarch to place her seal at the end of these three documents here," she explains as she points out each space needed.
Taking turns, Henry and Eliza sign their names at the end of the last document before Granny Logan takes the seal and presses it at the end of the pages indicated. To Shannon's amazement, when she pulls the seals away, the Logan crest of a heart pierced by three wands blooms from the paper in a mysterious gold ink that seems to glow softly.
As soon as the three adults finish, Cassandra collects the paperwork and grins, looking between the family with a bright smile.
"Congratulations – it's a girl!" She laughs before shaking her head. "But in all seriousness, we are very happy for you all. You're in good hands," she adds, giving Shannon a sympathetic smile before turning to one of the papers with the Logan seal stamped on it. With practised hands, Cassandra plucks her wand from her hair and taps the page, causing the paper to fold itself into an aeroplane. With a quick twitch of the wand, the paper flies off, exiting the Hall of Records with a flourish.
"Now, I have sent off the paperwork needed to the Department of Magical Education regarding Shannon's admission to Hogwarts and I will send a letter to Professor McGonagall about adding Shannon to the list of incoming first years. She's pretty punctual herself so I expect you will hear back from her very soon."
With those words, Cassandra smiles down at the girl from behind her glasses.
"Congratulations, Shannon! You're officially a Logan – or well, a Logan twice over," she corrects herself with a soft giggle. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"
"That will be all," Granny Logan answers, nodding her head toward the girl in hesitant approval. "I feel I must commend you. You are quite efficient."
Cassandra blinks up in surprise at the elder woman, a blush rising to her pale cheeks.
"Oh – why thank you, Madam!" She breathes, her eyes wide with admiration as her lips hesitantly curl in a small smile. "That's quite a compliment coming from someone like yourself."
Granny Logan's stiff expression seems to melt at the sight of the cute young witch who is quite obviously starstruck by the compliment, surprising Shannon. Perhaps Granny Logan is more of a softy than she likes to let on.
"Alright then, I believe it's time we head back," Henry states with a warm smile. "Lots to get situated."
"Yes indeed," Eliza adds, turning to Cassandra with a warm smile. "I will see you later then. I have filings to drop off later in the week."
"I will see you then. Congratulations again!" Cassandra calls as she gives the group a brilliant smile before turning back to her work.
With that the Logan family leaves the Magical archives, their family one member greater. As they enter the magical golden lift once more, a tall, slightly balding man with brilliant red hair looks up from the box of what looks to be singing teaspoons.
"Well I'll be! What are you lot doing here? I thought it was your day off, Henry," the man greets, shuffling the box in his arms to extend a hand to the gentleman. "And with the Madam and the Missus – how wonderful to see you both again."
A brilliant smile breaks out across Henry's lips as he returns the gesture. Beside Shannon, Andrew seems to brighten, as does Eliza and even Granny Logan. The girl herself stares up at the man in awe as recognition washes over her, realising who this must be.
"Arthur, mate, how are you?" Henry greets the man as the latter turns to observe the group.
"It's a pleasure to see you, Arthur. I trust you are doing well?" Granny Logan adds, a polite smile on her lips.
"Doing well, doing well. Keep coming across these blasted spoons though. Scaring muggles out of their wits, they are, breaking out in song every time they stir their tea. . . Anyway, looks like you got the whole brood with you today, I see. 'Morning Andy, 'morning – hold on a moment," Arthur pauses, his brow furrowing when he sees the young girl hold hands with Andrew, her eyes wide with a look of absolute wonder as she looks up at the man. "Who's this?"
Eliza places her hands on Shannon's shoulders.
"This is Shannon, our new eldest," the woman introduces the girl. "We've just come from the Family Registry Office getting her paperwork squared away. Family issues, you see. She's come to us from America and should be starting Hogwarts here in a couple weeks. Shannon, this is Arthur Weasley, a dear friend of ours."
"Merlin's Beard. . . well it's a pleasure to meet you, young lady," the wizard says as he bows his head cordially. "I don't know if Andy told you, but my youngest son is set to start Hogwarts this year as well. . . Actually," he pauses, glancing down at his watch. "I'm about to head home for lunch. Would you all care to join me? Molly and I've been meaning to have you 'round and this way Shannon can meet the kids. 'Be good for Shannon to have some friends heading into school."
"Dad, can we please?" Andrew presses with a thrilled expression.
"I could do with some lunch," Henry replies, turning to his wife questioningly.
"That sounds lovely!" Eliza replies, clapping her hands together. "It's been a minute since the last time I saw Molly. Is that alright with you, Shannon?"
"I – yes I would love to!" Shannon cries, struggling to keep her excitement in check.
"I shall have to pass," Granny Logan states regretfully, her fingers interlocking over the top of her cane. "I have errands I must run, but perhaps another time. Eliza, Henry. . . Andrew, Shannon. I will see you at the Manor upon your return," and with those words, she gives Arthur one last nod as the lift comes to a halt and she exits, leaving the group in the lift as the doors close shut once more.
"Right then," Arthur says as the lift begins to move again, causing them all to catch themselves at the jerky movement. "Let me just drop these off with Perkins and we can be off. Andy, I'm sure everyone will be thrilled to meet you Shannon."
If he only knew how much more elated Shannon is at the prospect of meeting the famous family of wizarding red-heads.