A/N: Last chapter for this week since I've got moving plans. Also a very happy birthday to Harry Potter so happy reading :) until next time!
"Where destruction is the motive, unity is dangerous." - Ravi Zacharias
F
May 1968, Yorkshire
"You promised," Danny Moore said over the phone that Saturday afternoon with no Hufflepuff versus Slytherin Quidditch match, "and you know I can't again. If they attack worse, can you?"
"In a month?" Frank said flatly, side tingling in his orange egg chair. "Look, we could try Ilvermorny or Red Rock together."
"Maybe," Danny said. "Just don't put yourself out there for Emmy's sake."
"And everyone's, aye." Frank tore out a sketchbook page. "Are your O.W.L.s in July? I'm dying."
"Daniel?" Mrs. Moore's distant voice.
"I'm coming, Mam!" Danny called, away from the phone. "Frankie isn't bad off! Sorry, lad. I guess you're off tea duties?"
"So long someone can help me into a chair, no," Frank chuckled. "Glad I caught you."
"Ilvermorny'll have to be later, but I'm up for going back to Whitby next term. In a bit, eh?"
"Ta-ra, Danny," Frank said. "Say now then for me."
They bid final goodbyes but Mrs. Moore called again and Danny hung up.
Frank pushed the telephone set aside. His sketches and notebook papers everywhere and colored pencils. He wiped his face, damp.
He pushed papers off, scattering. Patches and Rex squeaked.
"Who else does?" Frank's voice cracked, kicking flying papers away.
Mam's footfalls clicked upstairs. "Orson?" A door unlocked and swung open. "What are you doing?"
"So what d'you think?" Oso said cheerfully. "We're here, and some world over here-" Frank tittered, rolling for the door, "Britain went like this!"
Something thudded rolling and Heidi barked from the landing.
"I'm most certainly glad we didn't," Mam said. "Is this for an actual class Astronomy project or your own distractions?"
Frank stood up stepping towards Mam in Oso's doorway, blocking Heidi from going in.
"Muldoon is brilliant." Oso grinned, brandishing his clay covered hands towards his large scale more labeled parallel world model, some balls merged together. "Pick another world, lad?"
"Napoleon and Gauthier won," Frank said easier, as Heidi rubbed his leg.
"That'd merge with the Grindelwald world." Oso pressed clay into another ball.
"We would be Albion then," Mam said. "Heidi, downstairs!" She pointed.
Heidi barked and pitter pattered downstairs.
"Potatoes need chopping," Mam said. "Frank, how are the Moores?"
"Great," Frank said, throat thicker. "Moving on. Which ones're Pip on, Oso?" He smiled slightly.
"Most, but we're missing on some too." Oso scraped clay off his hands. "I don't fancy continuing Ceramics though, but that's my Arts done. I signed up for Ancient Runes and Anglo-Saxon Studies."
"St. Hilda's it is then." Mam pushed Frank's egg chair back into his room. "American schools can wait for next year?"
Frank's mouth dried. "And Europe?"
"Unless it's Celtic nearby, there's more outside influence at most Continental schools not that there isn't more Mink subjects. Do you mean to continue Maths or any other science?"
"I don't know," Frank's voice strained, "I'm too busy trying to pass!"
Mam came over, holding her hands out. "You're doing well, a sheòid, but if O.W.L.s are too soon there's other schools."
Frank sniffed. "I know."
"I'll go wash and get those potatoes cut." Oso stepped out. "I know it's hard."
Frank wiped his face with his sleeve. "All your horrible teachers?"
Oso raised his fingers. "Well, Portchester, Sowerberry, Copplestone." He shrugged. "Junior teachers looks like."
"Portchester's up for Transfiguration Head if." Frank inhaled.
"Come downstairs," Mam said kindly, "I will get some water steaming." She passed around and went downstairs.
"Ahead but behind?" Oso whispered. "I can't even sign up for Innovative Magic for a good year."
"And the others?"
"I signed up for Air and Lumosity," Oso said. "But if we're off to Whitby, then there's loads more options, Old English wise."
"I stayed too long," Frank mumbled.
Oso held an arm out and guided Frank downstairs.
Over a pot of steam, Frank's nose cleared then dripped worse so he couldn't help with dinner. He plodded into the sitting room with Heidi and clicked the telly on, two hours till Cybermen.
"What about 2001?" Frank spooned his cheesy seasoned thin soup at the kitchen table.
"Do you feel up to that?" Dad lowered his napkin. "It's two and a half hours long."
"I can't," Frank said, "for owt." He sipped a spoonful.
"Colds seem to be coming back too," Dad said softer. "Tea and Doctor Who is enough for me."
Frank shoved his napkin, fluttering away.
"Frank?" Mam said.
"When'd I become less northern?" Frank panted, steam drifting from his soup.
"Hogwarts does that," Dad said. "We change for the environments, eh? Can you eat?"
No Marla. Heidi rubbed Frank's leg.
"It's fifteen minutes before the show," Mam said.
Frank pushed his bowl over and stood up, mess blurring. Oso pulled Heidi aside.
"Garlic, girl," Oso said sternly.
Frank kicked the chair and Dad came around. Mam raised her wand but Dad tugged it down. Oso and Heidi left, door shutting.
"Franklin?" Dad held his hands out. "What's going on inside?"
"You still get this?" Frank's voice shaky, fumbling for Dad's rough hands.
"Aye." Dad cupped Frank's hands, steadying. "Serenity Potion helps calm things so we can learn how to, not a replacement. You've seen some things too."
"No," Frank's wrists tingled. "Barely."
"Even then, eh?" Dad smiled blurry. "Not just Hogwarts, but other things."
Frank inhaled sharply. Dad rubbed Frank's back.
"Don't worry about owt right now, eh?" Dad whispered. "Just breathe." He guided Frank into a empty chair away.
"Marla." Frank brushed the blue tartan cushion.
"We'll see her tomorrow," Dad said. "Can I get owt?"
"I can't leave," Frank said thickly. "Not now."
"No," Dad said. "But I do want to put your O.W.L.s off till July, is that-?" He rubbed Frank's shoulder. "Aye. You're all right, Frank, as you are."
Frank sniffled. Mam handed Dad a steaming mug of tea and waved her wand at the soupy mess. Dad helped Frank drink and his body eased, soreness easing.
On Monday half rested, Frank was hopelessly distracted but Professors Eikenboom and Sprout had full confidence in his O.W.L.s, now five weeks away. Friends shot down comments in Art and Aunt Tilda let Frank and Craig study off to the side. Hugo Leach wasn't back yet, his family fighting a bug again.
"Transfiguration Club, laddie?" Craig said that evening, during dinner in the Hufflepuff kitchen as Frank spooned his cullen skink soup and Sam packed up.
"Forget it." Frank sipped his soup, notebook page scribbled over.
Sam shouldered his bag. "You're good though."
"Ta-ra." Frank's lip twitched, insides numb.
"Take care." Sam trudged off past Oscar Weasley and Wayne Skewes.
"Owt on your mind?" Craig said.
"I'm not staying." Frank dipped his half eaten bread into the soup.
"Naw," Craig said slightly amusedly, "but we've been through too much." He picked up another piece of bread.
"Sorry," Frank muttered. "Just, erm." He scraped soup off the edges of his bowl. "I might not be ready next month."
"Who is?" Craig chewed.
Frank swallowed. "Aye, well, never mind."
"No, laddie, I'm sorry," Craig's voice softening. "Do what you can."
"I try," Frank's heart hammered, Newscap heavy. "Not like, everyone else."
Craig put his spoon down. "Hard, aye. Art just to scrape through," he shifted awkwardly, "but you know what else?" He smiled slightly. "Reminding people life's more than school."
Frank chuckled. "We could just…stupid idea." He licked off bits from his spoon in his mouth.
"Quit?" Craig sniggered. "Then what?"
Frank shrugged. "Don't think we're ready."
"Probably not." Craig ate a bite. "Nice idea though." He turned towards Oscar and Wayne. "Kelynek does it in July?"
Frank took a bite of bread.
"It's Scotland that's weird," Oscar said. "Even up, or down north?"
Frank nodded.
Craig grumbled and kept eating. "Well, if you've got the chance then take it. Loch Ness is same as here."
"You're okay, mate?" Wayne smiled slightly at Frank.
"How's exchange then?" Frank managed half-heartedly.
"Good, but I miss Kelynek." Wayne clapped Oscar's back, chewing. "Come back."
"When I get suspended, or hurt," Oscar said. "You need me in the Newspaper Club."
"Not too hurt." Frank's beads slacked.
"Yeah," Wayne muttered. "I'll try and come back."
Rumors spread if Minister Leach would be able to give his speech on Wednesday, since Hugo was back in a bubble mask but the E.V.F. kept up all they could in support with Albion believers behind them.
"Face it then," Rodolphus Lestrange said, in the Ancient Studies corridor the next morning waiting for Thurston. "Daddy Leach might be next."
"He's the Minister for Magic," Diggory said, as Frank's eagle flapped.
"It doesn't hurt to face reality," Flint said. "Come now, Longbottom, how's your best friend's family?"
Frank's legs jerked and he pushed back at Kelsey, letting go. He fixed his bomber jacket, beads unsteady underneath. Lestrange smiled smugly, wolf brooch calmer.
"What's the game?" Frank's voice oddly loose. "Ever since Leo Potter got back."
"What?" Lestrange chuckled but Flint and Hackett laughed harder. "I'm not playing any game, perhaps growing up."
"Fine," Frank said flatly. "I don't know about the rest of your families, but I understand where you're coming from."
"Yeah, well," Lestrange raised his chin, "yours sits around in a chair, doesn't he?" The warning bell tolled. "At least my grandfathers died most honorably."
Flint chortled. "I expect that's why you don't trust Prewett then, Longbottom."
"Who says-" Frank inhaled.
Diggory stepped forward. "Back off."
"He's coming!" Lisa Malone said.
Kelsey nudged Frank's back. Lestrange chuckled.
Thurston turned into the corridor, robes tousled. "Everything all right here?"
"Just reviewing our family's contributions in the war, sir," Flint said. "Are we discussing that today?"
Thurston came up, stopping towards Frank and Kelsey. "Was any offense given anywhere?"
"First Leach then it jumped to Frank's grandparents after he stepped up, sir," Diggory's voice slacked.
"Let's step inside." Thurston unlocked the door. "I apologize for being late." He opened it.
The others ahead filed in and chatter. Frank passed Kelsey and they over, but Frank stopped at Thurston.
"Just lies, sir," Frank muttered, and went in.
"Come sit up here," Flint smiled on her desk. "Away, I suppose. Your family's earned the respect. The Moodys established the Aurors after all."
"To fight dark arts, honestly." Frank dropped his bag at a far side desk near Paul Corner and James Fleming.
"Go on," Hackett said.
"All right!" Thurston swept in and the last few hurried in, and he shut the door. "Mr. Diggory, explain precisely what happened in the corridor. Everyone in your seats!"
Flint dropped down. "I offered Longbottom to sit up here, sir."
Thurston went around on the supremacists' side. "Be reassured I'm not showing any favoritism for anyone, but remember what the Headmaster said this morning. Mr. Diggory?"
Diggory shook his head. "What I said. Hasty from all sides."
"Of course. Shall we discuss the war then, as honestly as possible?"
"Everyone knows, Lestrange," Jim Darcy said. "Most of our families believed or helped the Zanos-"
"That isn't the point," Lestrange scowled. "Even the greatest warriors cave in sometimes."
Frank tugged his beads out, and raised his motto beads fingers shaky. "We do our best at least, yeah, even if hanging!"
Shivers spread. Frank dropped his beads, heavy.
"Many terrible things happened," Thurston said grimly. "Sometimes you do the necessary thing to survive in war for either side, even if operations fail there's always a second chance. Yes, Miss Luff?"
Marlene lowered her hand. "Even ones like Operation Dragoon, sir?"
Kelsey shifted.
"Fine," Frank muttered, eagle still fluttering.
"Have many here read Wolf Magician by Albert Slank?" Thurston said. "Yes, the dystopian novel."
Hands went up. Some scoffed.
"We're reading it in British Literature." David Rothenberg dropped a book on his desk.
Lestrange turned sharply, wolf growling. "What did yours do?"
"My dad was a Dragoon for the dozenth time," Rothenberg said.
"My mum was in the Witches' Auxiliary Force," Jim Darcy piped up.
Thurston encouraged more input and Lestrange glanced back at Frank, smiling smugly, and wolf brooch fierce but turned away.
"Jews," Kelsey muttered, "only people it stops playing for."
Frank fiddled with his brooch. "Gotta be charmed to his emotions, but he's still against Josiah most."
Kelsey opened her notebook. "Aye. Let's pay attention."
After the lesson about history and what-ifs, people went up for questions eagerly and Rothenberg swept over for Frank and Kelsey. Frank's eagle wings slapped and Paul and Fleming had turned on Lestrange at the edge of their desks.
"Valhalla, Longbottom?" Lestrange stated. "Since clearly I can't get any nearer."
"What about it?" Frank shoved his binder away. "Yours must've been honorable too, but I'm not calling owt openly."
Lestrange scowled. "Granted Valhalla, to the great Auror. Didn't he believe?"
"Leave him alone," Darcy snapped. "Obviously yours got a place."
Lestrange sneered. "Good lesson." He strode off. "Oi, Rothenberg, my friends seem to have left. Maybe I can find some bacon for Zale, he needs it. Want some?"
"Straight to the Great Hall!" Rothenberg rushed over. "So what? I scrape the fat off."
They bickered, leaving. Frank sunk onto a desk, bum tingling, elbows on his legs.
"Frank?" Kelsey said.
Frank squeezed his heart pendant, own rapid. Talk from the front but gazes around, faces slack. "My aunt Nicki, refused to truly side with them." He brushed over the letter beads. "S'pposedly, well we can't know anyone's…" he gasped.
"She made history, mate," Jim said.
Kelsey held a pink hand out. "We all did."
Frank ran a hand down his ragged jacket, faux wool warm. Not-? A soft hand. Two shivering young men in the snow, dark and red hair clashing.
"Frankie," Kelsey's voice said. "It's okay."
"Aye," Frankie muttered thickly.
He fumbled for her hand and she helped him stand up. A few people scattered around, guarding? Frank fixed his jacket, clearing his throat, and swung his bag on.
"You all know what happened on D-Day," Frank said. "They refused to give in. I'm hungry so let's go."
They grouped up, Paul and Kelsey on Frank's either side. Out the classroom, they raised their wands.
Darcy had deflected several hexes, bouncing back, but they made it safely to the Great Hall. Off at the Gryffindor table, Prewett and McLaggen with Lennox and Dingle grimly talked.
Kelsey rubbed Frank's back. "It's okay."
Down and across, Oso between Tyler Bell and Gus Pond among friends and Tracy McGonagall swung her dark ponytail over her shoulder. Paul smiled slightly on Frank's other side.
"Where do you want to sit?" Kelsey said.
Darcy sniffled. Frank indicated on. They passed the Ravenclaw table. Gideon Prewett and Sterling Ollivander with other supportive friends and Darcy turned at the Hufflepuff table, more mingling, and they pressed down through people.
Leo Potter stood up, in Slytherin crested robes.
"He's fine," Darcy said.
"I can see that," Leo asserted sharply. "And since everyone's talking about it, our family."
Darcy stepped away. Paul hurried for the Ravenclaw table. Frank shook his head but Leo stepped up, chest heaving.
"Valhalla?" Frank hissed, Newscap shaky.
"Didn't everyone, mate?" Leo whispered, nose smaller. "German first." He jerked his head at the table.
"We can't sit together," Frank said. "I'm biologically closer to-"
Leo tugged Frank's arm for the Hufflepuff table and they dropped into popping seats, but Leo winced.
"What'd you have today?" Frank poured Leo pumpkin juice.
"Arabic then Anthropomorphism." Leo swigged it. "You on the other hand, need to stay calm next period." He levitated his plate of fish pie.
"Why'd you turn into Gawain Robards?" Frank scooped cottage pie onto the empty plate. "And what happened to Hermes?"
"I'm here," Leo's mouth full. "Take your chance next term."
"Somewhere north, yeah." Frank poked a pea and carrot. "Lestrange then," he muttered.
"Let me worry about him," Leo muttered, lowering his goblet. "What'd Darcy get hit with?" he said normally.
"Bat Bogey. The week's too respective for everyone." Frank took a bite. "How're you?"
Leo nodded. "Home tomorrow?"
"The party, yeah." Frank steadied his beads, pushing the Newscap over. "You?"
Leo smashed his cheesy potato into smaller bites. "The Ministry dinner, of course." He chewed potatoes, lips messy. He glanced up and wiped his face, but whiskers still light. "What?"
"Anthropomorphism then?" Frank cut a bite, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, obviously." Leo sipped his juice. "Glad you're okay."
After lunch, Frank joined his roommates for Intermediate Transformation but the goldfinch's wings flapped, Snitch body solid. Sam Abbott's Snitch rolled off the desk, wings folded, and Frank sat up.
"It's conjured, mate," Elliot Mulpepper sniggered, as Wayne Skewes floundered his arms at the fluttering goldfinch.
Fittleworth strode over. "Skewes, do something about it."
The goldfinch flew off.
"You sure this is fifth year level, sir?" Wayne said.
"Both O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are standardized testing across the country," Fittleworth said strictly. "There is no time to waste." He turned sharply.
Everyone waved their wands.
The next morning, Professor Dumbledore reminded at breakfast about remaining respective. Lestrange snidely smiled at his table but turned back to his cauldron quickly and only confronted Rigel Blackworth's friends in the forest. During Art, Nellie Malfoy bickered with Sheringham but Martha Yates kept Bryson distracted.
Afterwards, the corridors and staircase heavily regulated with people already heading out the front doors for Hogsmeade still ("thank Dumbledore") but chatter about the weekend trip.
"Hogg's Square's getting boring," Linda Kellow said among her friends down High Street.
"-won't be where we're expecting it, honestly," Aaron Pevensie said.
"Weekend plans, mates?" Dickon wondered.
"Maybe the real Narnia's through our old carpenter's shop," Craig said longingly. "You sure about no Ilvermorny, Dickon?"
"America's too far at least." Dickon shook his head. "Time people left the Pevensies alone though."
"Yeah, well, Gawain Robards' dad got promoted too." Frank fixed his beads. "My dad was done with all that."
"How long?" Sam glanced back.
"Twenty-three years. Mostly, he'd, the Aden Emergency was stirring," Frank's brooch oddly steadier, "he didn't want to get called away mostly."
Sam nodded, smiling slightly.
"Where's Aden?" Craig wondered hesitatingly.
"Yemen. In the Middle East, from British rule. " Frank's brooch fluttering. "Well, we always kept together. Union schools would've been the closest and then…"
"Frankie?" Dickon's voice drifted.
Squeaks.
"Marla," Frank gasped.
Sam brushed Frank's arm, warm. "Breathe out."
Frank breathed out thickly. Sam rubbed Frank's back.
Down the street, they turned into Honeydukes with Muggin advocates and upstairs to the Flumes' flat. Craig then Dickon followed. Sam took the flower pot off the mantle, no cloth around.
"We honor them today," Sam said.
Frank sniffed and took a pinch. "Ta." He tossed it in the fire and the flamesroared green.
He stepped in, clearing his throat. "Ribblesview!" and spun away, water slapping.
Stumbling out, Heidi barked happily and Frank grabbed the mantle. Birds lifelessly dotted, the covered Floo pot behind the oak clock. Heidi came up, smiling, and he rubbed her head.
"Franklin?" Mam called, as he set down Patches' and Rex's carrier.
"Is Dad home?" Frank dropped his knapsack on her tartan armchair, boxes still around.
"Not yet." Mam turned into the doorway, apron covered in flour as she settled against the doorframe. "Your hair?"
"Oh, been busy." Frank went around the sofa. "Just, realized something."
"What is it, sweetheart?" Mam ushered Heidi back to her bed.
Dad's POW medal shimmered behind the glass.
"Dad, retiring," Frank said. "After Aunt Kat died."
"Oh, of course that was part of our considerations but your education's also important." Mam hurried around the staircase.
Frank dashed out and a silver mass swept into the kitchen. "Mam?"
She unbolted the door, whispering, and let Dad in. "For Myrddin's sakes, owt could've happened!" She shut it.
"Nah then." Dad pecked her cheek, his suit tousled. "Someone's home. Franklin?" His mustache slacked.
"Erm, the silver thing?" Frank went to wash, a bowl of batter half stirred on the counter.
Mam slapped Dad's arm.
"Is Orson home yet?" Dad said, as Mam took the sink. "I think Franklin ought to know by now then."
Frank dried his hands. "Like I haven't seen any bees around. Silver ones." He smiled.
The fireplace whooshed and Heidi barked. Mam shook her waves. Oso laughed.
"Perfect timing." Mam kept stirring. "Has anyone else hinted it?"
"Maybe just Alastor," Frank said. "Oh, and Marla." He left.
"What happened?" Dad muttered distantly.
Mam whispered. The door shut behind.
Oso grinned, sticking his head out the sitting room. "Everyone home?" He held out Patches' and Rex's carrier.
"Almost." Frank went over, taking it. "Erm, what d'you remember when Dad left the RAF?"
"I dunno," Oso said, past Frank's shoulder. "Radging year. Bit, glad, but why all the boxes still?"
"Hard to get rid of." Frank indicated upstairs.
They trudged upstairs, washed, and put Patches and Rex away.
"Dad okay?" Oso wondered, dropping by Frank lingering at their pen.
"Mad year," Frank said slack, as Patches and Rex pushed balls around. "Marla," he chuckled oddly, "then Al goes for Elsie?"
"That would, sure," Oso said. "Marla's theirs, right? I mean, you know." He smiled weakly. "Paternally Moody."
"Obviously," Frank said. "Nobody else's saying owt?"
Oso shrugged. "Dunno, but takes them five more years?"
"War injuries, but gotta be harder with a McKinnon, lad," Frank managed lighter. "We're done for when one falls for a Weasley."
They laughed and Oso helped Frank up.
"Girls." Oso spread his hands out. "No wonder they're all scared." He grinned but it faded. "Three choices though." His cheeks flushed slightly.
"When'd all this get into your head?" Frank said dumbfounded.
"What? No! Friends." Oso dashed for the bathroom. "Kay'd kill me!"
"What about Cameron?" Frank trudged out. "And Kirsty's too feminist and Marla, Merlin." He stopped in the bathroom doorway.
"So how's that work?" Oso glanced back. "Like, is it natural if two-"
"Your father's home, boys!" Mam called sternly.
"Can only have girls," Frank muttered, cheeks warm. "Coming!"
Oso chortled. "That's why!" He dried his hands and left, sniggering.
"I didn't say owt," Frank mumbled, and turned the sink on, face deep red. "Oh, blimey." He splashed his face with cold water.
"Well, three until Skye's-" Oso laughed. "No, Kelsey too!"
"Doomed." Frank dried his dripping face. "So who're you asking out for Saturday? Jane Bell's bonny."
Oso dashed downstairs. "Lucky they aren't cousins!"
Downstairs, Oso cheerfully poured himself tea as Mam filled the cake pan with batter.
"Did we miss something, lads?" Dad smiled over his mug at the table.
Oso sniggered. "So is Uncle Nobby talking tonight or not?"
Frank got himself tea and sat down with his Sgt. Pepper's mug.
"Special speaker for the most part," Dad said. "How are the rumors at Hogwarts?"
"Mad," Frank said, as Oso sat down. "What're they hoping for with all these flus?"
Dad glanced away. "The same as always, of course."
Mam popped the cake pan into the oven. "Richard."
"It can't lead to owt!" Dad's voice stuffier. "To what end?"
Mam turned. "You never seem to give up on Abraxas Malfoy's expertise in Potions lessons."
Heidi pitter pattered over to Dad.
"That's different," Dad sighed. "You're right about the flu, Franklin." He sipped his tea. "The Leaches are down with the fever."
Oso coughed and Frank clapped Oso's back, who swigged his tea.
"Before or after Hugo came back?" Oso thudded his mug down
"After." Mam soaked the mixing bowl, dumping baking utensils in. "It must be connected to Hugo."
"Or all of us." Dad wiped his beard. "October's failed assassination, everything."
"Doesn't do owt." Frank traced Dr. King on his mug. "He's healthy."
"I know," Dad said. "Headmistress Scamander won't survive the year at this rate and if you can take the Scamanders down…" He sipped his tea, bags under his eyes.
Oso snapped his fingers. "All our work."
Dad nodded, glancing away from Mam. "Boys, you do need to know this." He winced. "They've got all our blood, but I'm deeply afraid Headmistress Scamander and Minister Leach share the same type."
Oso thudded his mug down. Frank's insides flipped over. Heidi whined.
"Then what?" Oso demanded.
"Orson, please," Mam said calmly. "Something more must've happened in October but her illness most certainly hasn't helped."
"Even then," Frank's voice deeper, "they had their last chance to take him down."
"Then what?" Dad said wearily. "Take him out fast there'd be chaos or do it slowly. Still time before the next election, which no, it can only be another Progressive if it comes to resignation."
"Like who?" Frank said.
"Eugenia Jenkins perhaps," Mam said. "I think your father ought to get some sleep before the party though."
"Scamanders still got this." Oso smiled. "Danny was mentioning his gran the other day."
"I'll take that nap." Dad pushed himself up. "Wish Charlie'd be there tonight."He took Mam's guiding hand and plodded out, muttering about respect.
Heidi followed and they went upstairs. The master bedroom door finally closed.
"How's Uncle Nobby?" Frank said flatly.
"As we said, but the only way to get to him was through all of us," Mam said stiffly. "None of it makes sense."
Frank drained his tea, swirling the cup. "Two figure heads both being integrated Blacks doesn't make it any better, even if people don't really care. Can I have a saucer?"
Oso groaned but Mam summoned a larger saucer. Frank flipped the mug over on the saucer and waited. Oso left with his tea and Mam drew up a chair, brightening the room.
Frank turned his mug over. A line. Mam inhaled. A triangle, off the line downwards.
"Up or down?" Mam whispered.
"Down," Frank muttered thickly. "Erm, Marla's actually Moody, right?"
"Of course she is," Mam said hastily, but slowed down. "Every chance the arrow's from another life. How much have you been thinking about her?"
"More, I guess." The leaves settled into something else. "I worry." Links around the arrow. "Links?"
Mam muttered in Scottish Gaelic, something about history repeating.
"Mam," Frank said.
"Well, I told you to continue it." Mam flushed. "Can I see your birthmark?"
"Still a good sign." Frank stood up. "Divination's stupid anyway, unless you're Rupe or cousin Cassie."
"Not entirely." Mam pulled the mug and saucer over. "How is Ornithomancy?"
"I prefer it." Frank reached under his shirt to his shoulder. "Hasn't faded much."
"It's still worrying, with your father's family history," Mam said. "I do hope it's merely a kiss of luck though."
Oso came downstairs, runestones rattling. "Now this is proper divination."
Mam stood up. "Is your shirt tucked, Orson?"
Frank scuttled out. "She's checking birthmarks now!"
"Great, d'you see an arrow or something?" Oso darted back up a few steps and Mam swept out. "Marla's not yours, aye?"
Frank ran into Oso who caught him.
"What?" Mam said dumbfounded. "What magazines have you been reading?"
Oso slapped Frank's arm, who smiled awkwardly. Mam had crossed her arms.
"Just, erm, how's that work?" Frank chuckled. "Generally speaking."
"Marlene, your adoptive sister, is my brother's youngest child for the last time," Mam said sternly. "Bring those runestones in here then." She crossed down the hall.
"Your fault," Oso hissed.
"Read my tea leaves already," Frank teased, and went upstairs.
Off his walls, Marla's sparkling beam in Aunt Kat's playful arms and Al's brighter face, fading growing up, till Elsie in his arms. Skye's tiny beam sparkling between them.
"Please spare her," Frank muttered. "All of us."
That evening behind Red Gables, Union Jack banners flapped and Dad headed straight for Uncle Tim at the red draped table. Uncle Tim stood up, arm outstretched and Dad fell into them.
Frank followed after Oso and Kay Weasley chatting. Down the table, Marla sat up beside Alice Fortescue and Kirsty McKinnon. Frank hurried over. Marla stepped over, auburn curls neater against her short blue robes and seed beads tucked.
"Ey up," Frank panted, clutching a snitch at his side.
"Don't run then." Marla brushed her hand over his bomber jacket. "Looks good on you."
"Al gave up on it too," Frank chuckled. "How're you?"
Marla shrugged, smiling slightly. "Kirsty's been telling us about abroad. I think I'm done with the idea out there, home's here." She drew a chair up.
"Well, I barely remember Austria." He dropped into it.
She sat beside him, fiddling with her seed beads. "I always remember our trips there being better than Germany. How's school been?"
"Is it fair to sit O.W.L.s at St. Hilda's?" He brushed his beads under his shirt.
"Mine was radging too," she muttered. "If you can't then, wait."
"After Pip you still managed," his throat strained.
She brushed his jacket and reached underneath, taking out the Newscap. "He hardly used this, aye?"
"He should've," his voice cracked.
She ran her fingers through his wavy ends. "Here or not, facing it reminds us what life's really about. You be you, aye?" She put her hand over his heart, pendant underneath.
"Nat Kowalski though?" he muttered thickly.
Her hand wavered. "Kept us strong," she sniffed. "Hell would've raged, if, if that…" She her starlet.
"You're okay," he said softly. "Marla?"
She nodded dazed, but wiped her face with her sleeve. "Sorry. I mean to be home more, but I just, I dunno, your mam and Gran're the same. I can't," she inhaled.
"Hey." He brushed her arm, easing, and he rubbed it. "So don't."
She scoffed stuffily. "Skye's tiny. Gotta keep her safe too."
Kirsty laughed quietly down.
"Would it help, if," Frank's throat thickened, "erm, I dunno."
"McKinnon?" Marla tugged out a bright floral handkerchief. "Enough to go round." She dabbed her face. "Never say this but Al'd be happy to just let Moody linger on by blood only."
"Cursed, aye." Frank tugged his beads out. "Can you wait to come out?"
"I could, but Alice's breaking down," Marla's voice cracked.
"Got you," Frank said shakily.
Marla nodded. "And we'd be better off with any boy, wouldn't we?"
"Forget them." Frank shifted sideways. "Forget Gran. What about your mum?"
"There's enough McKinnons around." Marla fixed her curls. "Besides, someone'd probably stop it if I even tried to change mine." She stood up and flounced off.
Alice shot up. "You okay?"
They embraced and sunk down. Marla hid her face into Alice's shoulder, her round face settling against Marla. Frank swallowed.
"Easy to get married," Cameron McKinnon muttered, stumbling up with a half full bottle of Scotch. "Hullo, laddie," he slurred.
"You seventeen yet?" Frank managed.
Cameron smiled playfully. "Three days, laddie." He fell into Marla's abandoned chair and swigged the Scotch. "I've tried firewhiskey, it's horrible stuff."
"So, Saturday." Frank's cheeks warmer. "Tegan Puck?"
Cameron blushed deeply, wiping his mouth. "Maybe, and yeh?"
"Nobody." Frank's beads sunk, face damp. "Well, I dunno, we can't let them fall."
Cameron swallowed. "Who?"
"Muggin-borns. I'm gonna get somethin' to drink." Frank pushed up.
"Take it easy, laddie," Cameron said. "Distance shouldn't stop anything."
"First thing Arty does, aye." Frank plodded off, beads tousled. "Set up!" But
Arty wasn't visibly around either, people blurry. Frank's knees wobbled and he fell into a heap, shaking. Laughter somewhere, gone, lost. A long arm wrapped, Scotch drifting, and short curls tickled.
"I know, laddie," Cameron whispered. "Yer okay."
"Pip's dead," Frank gasped, grass in his mouth.
