Chapter 30
Priya hated London rain. Which was stupid, really. Her adult brain told her that London rain wasn't any different than Matsuyama rain. And she enjoyed rainy afternoons on their patio, laying mostly on her husband while watching rain fall through the trees.
Hell, she'd even conned their lover into dancing barefoot in the muddy grass with her. It had taken quite a bit of chiding and cajoling and puppy dog eyes and maybe even a little singing in the rain. But she'd done it.
They hadn't managed to get Harry to join in. Even with some of her more creative bribes. Although she was somewhat undercut by Emily constantly interjecting that she would not, under any circumstance, do the things Priya was suggesting.
Which was dumb. Because it was never that difficult to convince her to try something in the heat of the moment. Despite how often she'd thrown down assurances that she would never, ever, do something like that.
Priya didn't get it. She wondered if it was a nineteen fifties mentality of some sort. Was she supposed to appear to be more wholesome or what? Was it some sort of mental thing? It didn't seem to be worth arguing about.
She was always more of the 'can't knock it till you try it' type. It was hard to know if you liked or hated something purely on a gut reaction. She'd give anything at least one chance. And she had no problem voicing that. Or discussing things she liked or didn't like. Or talking about anything, really.
Emily tried to stay demure. Keyword being try. Because it was almost alarmingly easy to bait her into some sort of reaction. Usually a glare. Sometimes storming out of the room. But most often just a threat of some kind.
She should have been concerned about that. How many people would cower away from a single threat from Lord Voldemort, much less multiple ones a day? There was quite a bit of evidence that her bite was far worse than her bark, but Priya knew she'd never have to be on the receiving side of the bite.
Well, maybe if Harry died. But that wasn't worth thinking about. And even then she doubted Emily would just off her. She'd be too bored. They'd end up being crazy cat ladies together or something. There'd be a lot of bickering but it wouldn't be that bad of a way to grow old.
Worse than her current situation, mind you. But since it involved a possibility she was not intent on fathoming there was no point to reflect further on it.
Still, none of that was alleviating her annoyance at London rain. She wasn't sure what it was about it particularly that bothered her. If she had to guess, it had to do more with the urban nature of it.
When she was in Japan, or really, when she was anywhere that wasn't London, rain felt fresh. It felt clean. It felt like a renewal and like a shift back to a more natural state of being. She enjoyed watching it, listening to it, smelling it, dancing in it, you name it. She loved rainy mornings on her patio, or rainy evenings in bed with her husband. It even managed to remind her that he'd used the rain as the excuse as to why they should spend the night together the first time.
But in London it felt like the opposite. She knew it wasn't. She knew that rain was rain, no matter where it fell. But something about it in the city always made everything feel grimey to her. Like it was more of an unwanted nuisance making everything in their life a little worse by its mere presence. This was firmly brought back into her mind when she stepped into a puddle outside of St. Mungo's.
She entered the lobby and dried her foot with a wave of her wand, grumbling incoherently to herself as she did so. Despite the fact that magic rectified her problem, she still found herself annoyed at whatever grossness was certainly in that puddle and would now be all over her sock. Even if it wasn't. Harry would have rolled his eyes at her and offered to burn the sock for her, if it would solve her problem.
She'd never taken him up on that offer but there was still time. And given her annoyance, maybe this evening would change all of that. Her next few steps still annoyed her, despite the fact that she knew the foot was completely dry. Her brain took a moment to catch up and anticipated the squishing feeling that had accompanied her last couple of steps before entering the hospital.
It was all absurd. She knew it was absurd. But it didn't matter. Sometimes the tactile sense just won out over the reality of the situation.
It wasn't lost on her how stupid it was that she was more than willing to dance around on muddy ground outside in the rain, splattering who knows what in every direction and then turn around and think that version of rain was clean. But here she was.
Of course, she wasn't ever doing that in her dragonhide slip-ons. Granted the dragonhide didn't care at all whatever material it wound up plunged into. But still, she felt better the fewer gross sticky substances they were exposed to.
She ignored reception, focusing entirely on the secret mission she'd agreed to as she entered the hospital proper. Neither of the Welcome Witches noticed her as they were both checking in other people. The two security officials were talking over their coffee and didn't appear to be paying much attention, either.
She weaved expertly through a group of students following one of the lime-robed healers as she made her way through St. Mungo's, deciding it was best to not think too hard about the rain for any longer.
The trainees looked amazingly young even though she knew a few of them couldn't be that far off of her own age. Something about the brightness of their eyes and smiles made them look woefully naive.
She'd been the same way. She knew that. It lessened over time. There was too much sickness, strife and stupidity to have any other effect. They were all exceptional, bright and motivated. One had to be to make it as a Healer. And, statistically, half of them would wash out before the training was completed.
None of them stopped her, or commented on her presence as she went about her business. Which bothered her. The trainees probably shouldn't have said anything. It seemed like bad form to interrupt their lesson because a stranger walked through the hospital.
But in her mind that said something about them. Perhaps not that they were unobservant, as she knew they saw her. But that they were unwilling to ask questions, or inquire as to what was going on. It shouldn't have been easy to sneak into St. Mungo's. And while she wasn't really sneaking into the hospital, someone should have stopped her. Whether that someone was security or another Healer was debatable. But she still shouldn't have been given free reign of the building.
A few of the Healers even nodded at her. Which, in her mind, made it worse. They clearly recognized her. Which was fine, she'd been their colleague a few short months ago. But appearances were one of the easiest things to alter in the Magical World. And meant very little in the long run.
She had no identification on her. No magical lanyard with her name, credentials and duties. And she certainly wasn't wearing the traditional lime robes of a Healer. While she looked like she belonged, and clearly knew exactly where she was heading, someone should have stopped her.
Yes, she wasn't doing anything nefarious. And yes, she was a familiar face. But what did that matter in the grand scheme of things? She could have been anyone. And sure, she had her reasons for her trip today. And there were a thousand of completely legitimate reasons as to why she would visit the hospital. But still, despite that, someone should have stopped her and asked her about it.
She wondered if Harry and Emily's general paranoia was rubbing off on her. A few years ago she couldn't have fathomed such finite details mattering. But some experience in the hospital and with some of the patients led her to be a bit more skeptical of random people in a place they shouldn't be.
She'd lodge a complaint about it. Even if she knew that would just lead to a lecture from some administrators as to why certain protocols must be followed and that it would just be a half hour of time the Healers could and likely should spend doing something more productive.
It only took the briefest of memories of such lectures for her to decide that maybe the complaint could wait. She'd vent to whomever would listen. Which would almost certainly only be Harry Potter. But nothing formal needed to be discussed. It was too much of a waste of time.
She turned a corner and passed through the prenatal wing and made her way to pediatrics. She only made it a third of the way down the hallway before a woman called out behind her.
"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice said. Priya spun around and saw a plump, fresh-faced healer jog to catch up to her. "Did you have an appointment? You should really check in at reception before wandering down this way."
"I'm meeting my grandmother for lunch," Priya said. She shifted her purse off of her shoulder and reached into it.
"Stop," the woman ordered. Priya froze and saw the other healer's wand drawn on her. She couldn't help but smile.
"I'm surprised I got as far as I did. I'm Priya Potter," she said. She didn't recognize the young Healer who held her wand on her. So she had to hope for some name recognition. The Healer only blinked at her.
"Potter?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Right. Used to be Patel. I used to work here. My grandmother is the Head of Pediatrics," Priya said. She kept her voice level.
"Drop your purse and take a few steps back," the Healer said.
"I don't think that's necessary," Priya answered, giving the woman a glare that hopefully cowered her.
"Now, please," she said. She kept her distance. Priya was half impressed that she hadn't sent for security yet. Her hand was trembling but she kept her wand leveled on her. Priya raised her brows.
"This is silly," Priya rolled her eyes. She did her best to appear as annoyed as possible as she didn't comply with the orders she was being given. She took a deep breath and used one of their code phrases. "Mugwort Blossoms."
"Not good enough," the woman answered. And it shouldn't have been. It was two cycles out of date. The healer shifted toward the wall where Priya knew she could hit a specific brick and sound one of the many silent alarms in the hospital.
To her estimation, it had taken the Healer too long to get to that point. But they also didn't want to cause a scene with one person who may have just been in the wrong place and genuinely confused. Especially given that a great many magical curses had lasting effects on short-term memory.
Before she made it Priya dropped her purse onto the ground, holding her hands up to indicate there was nothing in them. The woman paused and stared at her for a moment before summoning the purse.
"That's good enough, Maria," a more gruff woman's voice rang out from behind them.
"Healer Patel?" the younger healer asked.
"I can vouch for my granddaughter," Farah said.
"She should know better than to wander into the hospital herself. Especially if she worked here, like she claimed," Maria answered.
"She does," Farah Patel said. "But I told her not to. I wanted to test those new Ministry provided security guards. I don't think they're worth the chunk of the budget being allotted to them."
"I see," Maria said. She hadn't lowered her wand or offered the purse back to Priya. Priya hadn't moved, either, figuring that it was best to wait until the situation was resolved. And suspecting that the test wasn't quite over. Her grandmother peered at the other healer for a few moments. They stood in silence until Farah spoke.
"Glitterroot Stems," she said, letting no emotion into her words. The other healer visibly relaxed and floated the purse back over toward Priya.
"Thanks," Priya said. She slung the bag back over her shoulder.
"You did well, Healer Mallow," Farah answered. "I can't believe they let someone unmonitored all the way into the nursery."
"Technically I only walked by it. Didn't go in," Priya answered.
"Same thing," her grandmother shrugged her off.
"And I only saw her by coincidence. I was on my way back from my coffee break," Healer Mallow blushed as she spoke.
"You're allowed to take breaks," Healer Patel answered. Annoyance was clearly evident in her face. Priya knew her grandmother well enough to know it wasn't being directed at the young healer. But she had decades of experience in dealing with her grandmother. "And still the only one who bothered to say anything to her."
"And reacted with the right protocol," Priya answered.
"Took too long to get to security," Farah answered.
"I didn't want to cause a scene," the younger Healer answered. "You know how people can get lost."
"It was fine. But when the children are concerned, hit the button at the first sign of trouble. When I was your age there was a rash of thefts in the nursery," Farah said.
"The seventeen hundreds must have been rough," Priya teased. Her grandmother glared at her. But given who's glare she'd grown accustomed to in the last few months it had virtually no effect.
"I'm not nearly that old," Farah said. "You can get back to your post Healer Mallow. Well done."
"Thank you, Healer Patel," Maria Mallow answered before scampering back off toward the nursery.
"She seems nice," Priya said.
"She's barely qualified," Farah said after making sure Healer Mallow was out of earshot. "But the candidates haven't been the best in the last couple of years. I should have never let you rush off to Japan. And now I hear that you married that idiot." Her eyes flashed to her hand. Priya held it up, showing off the ring.
"We figured it was about time. One more lecture from little Anya about how inappropriate our living arrangement was and I may have had to rethink my life choices. Or told her flat out that yes, we did have sex before we got married. Quite often," Priya answered.
"Yes, your cousin does like to harp on that. She'd be more tolerable if she just let her boyfriend fuck her," her grandmother answered.
"Damn," Priya laughed.
"You were thinking it," Farah answered.
"Yes, since I was like sixteen. Didn't expect someone else to say it," Priya answered. Farah snorted. They continued down the hallway toward the Pediatrics wing of the Hospital. Farah exchanged a few quick words with some of the Healers they passed on the way.
It only took a few minutes before they entered Farah's office. Priya sat in the chair in front of the cluttered desk while her grandmother paced around it and sat at her desk.
"So are you a fugitive?" she asked. Priya had to admire the woman. She always had. There was something about her no-nonsense attitude that she'd always strived for. But she'd never quite been able to replicate it fully.
Still, it hadn't shocked her when she'd put it all together and realized that her grandmother had been friends with Emily Price. She doubted either of them really saw their relationship as a friendship. But as an outsider it made sense.
Sure, they never did anything together. And to a degree it had always been strictly professional. Priya thought that may have been because of how things ended for Emily. And the more she learned about the other woman, the more she expected they'd have gotten along every bit as well as she now did with Emily.
Well, aside from sharing the occasional sharing of a husband. Then again, her grandmother seemed like the type to claim whatever she wanted. And who knew what she got up to in her younger years. She didn't want to think about that, though.
"Not yet," Priya said.
"But you're back here with him?" her grandmother asked.
"Yes, my loving husband returned to England with me," Priya answered.
"Your letters made it seem like you did not think that would ever happen. I take it you don't want me to inspect your little clinic any longer?"
"I'd still like your opinion on it when we go back. But if you were planning a vacation in Japan this summer, I'm not sure if I'll be there," she said.
"I'm sure you did well with it. But I can't imagine your patients will be thrilled with you leaving for months at a time," Farah said.
"I suspect not. But I have my reasons and I left them in good hands," Priya answered. "And if I have to, I can get back there in a hurry. Then again, I have no idea how long I'll be here," Priya answered.
"Yes, your letters were quite vague. But before we get into that there is something more important to get to," Farah snapped. Her eyes flashed to one of the reports on her desk as it magically updated. Whatever the information was she clearly didn't like. But it wasn't pressing enough that she did anything more than sliding it further away from her on the desk.
"No. I'm not pregnant. Yes, I know the older I get the worse it is for me. And, dammit, we're witches, we can negate almost all of the negative aspects of geriatric pregnancy with magic," Priya rolled her eyes.
"I'm not your mother," Farah chuckled. "I'm less interested in accumulating great grandchildren than she is in grandchildren."
"What's so important then?"
"What's for lunch?" Farah countered.
"I've been gone for months. I don't have any idea what's worth going out for. I figured you'd just have an elf whip something up," Priya answered.
"If my granddaughter is gracing me with her presence and offering lunch, then she sure as hell better be taking me somewhere," Farah teased.
"Is that little French cafe still any good? The one down a couple of blocks on the corner," Priya asked.
"It's fine. But there's a phenomenal Vietnamese place that does a great banh-mi down the other way," Farah answered.
"Lead the way then, Healer Patel," Priya answered. Farah nodded and stood. She moved to the small fireplace in the corner of her office. Only a couple of the highest ranking hospital officials had their own private ones, and tossed the powder in. She stepped in and Priya followed her. It only shot them back to the entrance but a few steps later and they were back out in the rain.
Except it had gotten worse. It wasn't even properly raining any more. Instead it sort of misted down on them. Priya grit her teeth as her grandmother conjured an umbrella and made her way into London.
Priya followed a few steps behind her. She didn't bother with an umbrella herself, given that she felt more like they were walking straight into the misty rain and that there was little point in covering her head.
The restaurant was small, nothing more than a handful of cheap plastic tables and a counter. A woman in her forties greeted them with a smile and a wave. Her grandmother was obviously a regular. Given the proximity to the hospital and the general mental benefits of short walks and breaks, that didn't surprise her.
Farah ordered some type of chicken banh-mi without looking at the menu. It sounded good enough for Priya to just order the same thing. Her grandmother added two sodas. They made their way over to one of the tables in the corner and sat.
It took her grandmother longer than seemed necessary to sit at the table. Priya frowned and wondered if she should say anything. But it wasn't like she was utterly old and infirm. She'd made the walk just fine and spent days on her feet at the hospital. Age, in the end, would catch up with everyone.
"So are you a fugitive?" she asked again.
"You know I'd never put my family in danger like that," Priya retorted.
"Yet you're back. They spent a good two months slandering you in the paper before something else distracted them," her grandmother answered.
"Really?" Priya asked. She'd ignored most of the gossip when she'd left. Largely because she'd been busy distracting an equally annoyed Harry and Emily.
"You were referenced for your obvious dalliances and connection with Harry Potter, yes. Which meant that you were obviously dangerous and deranged and nothing you ever said, or more importantly, wrote, could be valid," Farah said. Priya couldn't help but snort into her drink.
"Still harping on that?"
"Yes. Fudge hasn't liked anything linked with Harry Potter. They go out of their way to try to discredit it. It's faded away over the last few months but you were referenced with him at every chance," Farah answered.
"You know I get offers to speak at essentially every major magical convention in Europe and North America because of it," Priya laughed.
"Maybe you should accept some of those just to comment on England's treatment of one of their premier magical scholars," Farah scoffed.
"I've thought about it. Especially after I'm more situated. I think it's something worth talking about and discussing with others."
"Those conferences are a waste of time for any real discussion of ideas," her grandmother said.
"I guess," Priya shrugged her shoulders. "But it's good networking."
"What are you a floo now? Such a stupid word your generation is applying to everything," Farah countered.
"You're such a grump," Priya said. A small smile rose on her lips though. She enjoyed her grandmother's pessimism about most things. It never seemed quite as malicious as the words could feel.
And really, they were both right.
She'd gone to a few of the smaller events with Harry. And there had been little to no discussion of the actual substance of their work. The only comments they'd get would be things like how inspired it was, or brilliant it was, or groundbreaking it was. But there was never any explanation as to why it was any of those things. Or how it could be furthered to help the Magical community as a whole.
After, when she'd sober up and think about the evenings, she'd realize how empty all of the platitudes felt. How it hadn't been anything of note. And largely, from the standpoint of her research, a waste of precious time.
But she'd also met people she otherwise wouldn't have. And while none of them stuck out as interesting or important, it was still contacts she wouldn't have otherwise had. She doubted that she struck any of the people she was criticizing as interesting or important herself. But that was the nature of short meetings in crowded groups. Most of them seemed more interested in her arm candy than in her.
Which, frankly, was a little bit demoralizing when it was her, and not him who had agreed to the events. And when it was her name, and not his, that was headlining the discussions and talks. She was rather thankful that he was an expert at directing attention back to her. Especially when he would have rather been anywhere else. A few of his more ardent admirers certainly had no clue how close they'd come to almost being hexed after his second or third attempt to get them to talk to her instead.
That wasn't to say it was all bad, though. She'd exchanged letters with a few of them, developing something akin to friendship. A few of them she even looked forward to seeing at other events. Or perhaps having dinner with if she ever wound up in their cities. Something that she hoped would happen more often once everything in her life settled down.
Then again, her visions of that hadn't included being thrown into some sort of conflict with Grindelwald. At the time she'd figured settling down would be a stable job, stable marriage, and a kid or two growing up in a peaceful home. At least she'd managed one of those things.
Although she suspected her cousin Anya would argue that her marriage couldn't possibly be stable if she was routinely inviting another woman into her bed. But so what? It worked for them. At least for now. It wasn't like it was going to be a permanent thing. Or something that she'd share with anyone.
Her grandmother let her stew until their food arrived. It was quite good. Better than Priya had anticipated when she saw the restaurant. Which was another dumb thought on her part. She knew better than to think the outside appearance had much to do with the quality of the food.
"So why are you back then?" Farah asked after they'd each had a couple of bites of their sandwiches.
"That unhappy to see me?" Priya teased.
"Thrilled. I'd be even more thrilled if you told me you wanted to work in pediatrics and not trauma. But you'd rather play with Muggles in Japan than commit yourself to St. Mungo's," Farah countered.
"I did enjoy my brief stint as the nurse at Hogwarts," Priya commented.
"Only because the teenagers didn't do something to disgust you in your month there," Farah countered.
"And here I expected you to say something about how I would love joining you at St. Mungo's," Priya laughed.
"I don't lie to you," Farah said. "We both know you'd hate working with me. But you'd clip on a smile and deal with it until I retired. And you'd be a better replacement than most heads could hope to find."
"I'm going to take that as a compliment and thank you for the praise," Priya said. Farah grunted and ate another bite of her banh-mi.
"You're going to make me settle for Richard Clearwater," Farah complained.
"He's nearly as old as you are," Priya countered. Clearwater was the number two in the Accidental Magic wing. She knew little of him. Except that he was quiet and had a good reputation among the other Healers.
"Well my first choice screams of nepotism. Especially given her general aversion to working at the hospital," Farah complained.
"I loved working at the hospital. There were just complications that prevented me from staying there," Priya let her voice trail off. Farah rolled her eyes and glared at her.
"Five years," she scoffed. "You couldn't have pushed off those complications for five years? You'd have distinguished yourself in that time. And when I floated your name to replace me it wouldn't have been as absurd."
"Still nepotism," Priya countered.
"Qualified at least," Farah sighed.
"The Hogwarts candidates have gotten that bad?" Priya asked. She knew there'd been some bumps in the road even as far back as her going to school. Professor Snape had drawn the ire of the institution in his last years as a professor as the amount of students qualifying for advanced Potions dropped drastically.
Even after his mysterious disappearance, that Priya had only recently learned the truth of of, the return of Horace Slughorn hadn't brought much luster back. She didn't think he was incompetent. No, just old and uninterested. From what she'd learned since Professor Farley took over the grades were steadily improving but there was always a bit of a lag between the examinations and actually qualified healers.
Even in Priya's year, only four students had continued with Potions into their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. And one of those four dropped it after the sixth year. Of the three remaining, she was the only one who had any interest in medicine. And the only one who'd continued down the Healer track. Which had taken a few more years, although her impromptu summer vacation to Japan hadn't helped.
"I think it's improving, really," Farah answered. "But I'm old and stuck in my ways and I feel like I was far more prepared out of school than they were."
"Could just be bias," Priya said as she finished her lunch.
"Could be," Farah agreed in a way that indicated she didn't agree. Then again, Priya had stepped more or less from Hogwarts to a Magical hospital in Japan using her third language and felt fine the whole time. So perhaps she wasn't the best person to comment.
Then again, none of her Japanese colleagues had complained about her work. Although they tended to be so polite that she wondered if they would have if her work had been sub-par. Given that they kept assigning her tasks and responsibilities she figured she was performing well enough. And she thought they'd seemed genuinely sad when she'd resigned.
"So why did you insist on lunch?"
"I can't just want to talk to my beloved grandmother?"
"Of course. You know family dinner is Thursday," Farah responded.
"I'm not sure that what I want to talk about is a great conversation for a family dinner," Priya admitted.
"Enlighten me."
"Emily Price."
"What about her?" Farah said.
"I want to know more," she said.
"I didn't know her that well," Farah said.
"I don't think that's true," Priya countered.
"I was her doctor for six months," Farah shrugged.
"I think there's more to it than that," Priya said.
"If Fudge is to be believed you know her far better than I do," Farah said.
"She lives in my house," Priya admitted. She didn't necessarily think there was much of a point in giving more details than that.
"Crazy woman in the attic? How very Jane Eyre," her grandmother commented.
"Her bedroom is downstairs," Priya countered. Farah raised her brows. It was enough of a confirmation of her previous sentence to give the older woman pause.
"Is she in your head too?" Farah countered.
"Is she in yours?"
"I knew her before all of that nonsense," Farah spat. Priya had a hard time diluting the war down to nonsense. Even if she hadn't been alive for most of it. Still, she knew her grandmother had been one of many that had been vocal about Lord Voldemort's alleged widespread use of the Imperius Curse.
She, along with many others, had argued there was no way that many people were actually being influenced by it at any one time. Priya didn't think it was fair to rule out it as something Lord Voldemort had been incapable of doing. But from what she learned of the woman in their time together she suspected there was some truth to the argument.
It seemed like more effort than Emily would have spent to keep people in line. Especially when killing a few would have had the same effect. She had little doubt that there was always an underlying threat against her followers. But she suspected very few of them were actually coerced into being there. Despite what they'd said in public after.
"And I know her after," Priya said.
"How is she?" Farah asked. It gave Priya pause. She wasn't sure what she'd expected from this interrogation. But her grandmother showing sympathy for Lord Voldemort still made her feel a bit queasy.
"Getting better," Priya shrugged. It was a hard question to answer.
"I'd never seen a body like that. What even happened to her?"
"She used some sort of spell to store pieces of her soul in items. I can't get much more detail than that out of her. Long story short it turned her into a wraith when she died. Some wizards in Canada captured her while she was a wraith and flayed bits off of her to turn into drugs," Priya said.
"I think I remember reading about a strange magical drug in Canada," Farah said. "If I recall it vanished shortly after it emerged. And no one has been able to replicate it."
"Either way, that had an effect when Harry got her body back."
"It was disgusting," Farah admitted. "Honestly, I'm surprised she lived through the procedures it took to heal her."
"What did you think of her?" Priya asked.
"That she was pure evil and needed to be put down," Farah said.
"Why didn't you?" Priya asked.
"Professional pride in the oaths I took," her grandmother shot back. "Would you have?"
"I don't know," Priya admitted.
"Why did your husband bring her back?"
"I think he felt like he owed it to her," Priya said. "There's something between them I can't quite place. She did something for him years ago…"
"She killed his entire family."
"After that. He felt like he owed her something. They don't talk about it. I haven't pried as much as I should. It's an odd dynamic. But it seems to be working."
"Why has she stayed with you then?"
"I think she's terrified of being alone," Priya answered.
"That's rich," Farah snorted.
"Last time she lost everyone she cared about she tried to burn the world to the ground," Priya answered.
"You think she cares about you?"
"I know she does," Priya laughed. She dug into her purse and took out the journal. The last entry was worrying. She figured the less she told her grandmother about Grindelwald's followers ambushing Emily the better. She'd responded with a simple note that she and Harry were going back to England with Fudge but that they didn't think anything required her presence immediately.
Emily hadn't responded to that message as of yet. It was slightly longer than she'd usually taken but it wasn't anything that worried her yet. For all she knew after ascertaining that she and Harry were safe, Emily may have well gone back to the camp and started the trek back as she'd originally intended.
She flipped back a few pages until a set of their more bantery entries and slid the book across the table. Her grandmother read through them with raised brows.
"Signing 'Love E' doesn't mean she cares for you," Farah said. Her eyes kept flashing back to the pages and Priya could sense she wanted to read more. She took the book back before her grandmother could turn the page.
"Maybe. Maybe not. A lot of effort for someone you don't care about. She's lonely. She wants a friend."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Tell me what you thought about her before?" Priya asked. Farah stared at her for a moment before her shoulders slumped.
"Honestly? Not much. She was a couple of years behind me at Hogwarts. I didn't even realize that my patient, Price, was the same girl as the dour Slytherin prefect Riddle until a few months after she started seeing me," Farah said.
"There has to be more than that," Priya sighed.
"She was personable. Ice cold at first. It took her a while to warm up to people. Like she always expecting something about it was fake or performative. But after a few weeks she was chatty and cheerful. She seemed to enjoy being pregnant. Some women do, some hate it. She got me a great deal on those enchanted bangles your mother likes."
"Really?"
"Yes. I forget how it came up but it was in some conversation and she brought them to her next appointment. I got them independently appraised a few years later and I paid less than a tenth of what they were worth," Farah said.
"And you don't think she wanted a friend?"
"I think she would have loved a friend. But, I'm not sure she understood what friendship was. She'd talk around a subject like that. She'd have a whole conversation that seemed like it was leading to say, a dinner invite, and then it would just end. Like she couldn't get the last few words out. She'd talk about things she hosted for her husband. But that was about it."
"She's still the same," Priya said. "She needs to be pushed across the finish line for almost everything."
"More Emily than Lord Voldemort, I suspect," Farah said. Priya nodded, understanding her point. She suspected Emily had shed that last bit of decorum before walking down that path.
"She's got a lot of trauma in her past," Priya said. "And she never got any help for it. The more normal she's allowed to be the happier she seems."
"Do you think she deserves a second chance? Knowing what she's capable of?"
"No. But that's part of the problem. I am not convinced she ever had a first chance," Priya answered. Her grandmother's brows shot up as she said it. She was silent for a moment but nodded at her. That felt like a good point to leave that conversation on. Her grandmother had told her all she knew, really. And she wasn't here to discuss the enigma that was Emily Price. The time for unraveling that puzzle would come. Hopefully when there were less pressing issues.
They were silent for a few moments. Priya watched people walk down the street outside. The sun was starting to poke its way out from the clouds giving the small puddles a sort of shimmer.
"This isn't what you came back to England for," Farah said.
"No. Fudge asked us to," Priya admitted.
"Excuse me?" Whatever her grandmother had expected, that hadn't been it.
"He found us in Japan. Well, sort of. He stumbled around the correct city and Harry confronted him about it later. And he asked that Harry come back and help," Priya said.
"With what?" her grandmother laughed. The thought of Fudge approaching Harry still seeming absurd to her.
"Grindelwald, allegedly," Priya answered.
"So there's more to those strange rumors coming out of France than they're leaking out?" Farah asked.
"What rumors?"
"Strange bits of stray magic. Some of it seems to be done by Muggles of all people. Odd, inconsistent stories. Things like that. It all sounds like nonsense when you look at it individually. But there seems to be more when you put stories together. It's been all the talk of the breakroom for the last month or so," Farah explained.
Emily's last journal entry stuck out in her head. The followers she dealt with were stronger than they'd been. Emily wasn't one to misjudge that. And from what she'd gathered about Iran.
Priya's heart sank as it all finally clicked.
"I don't think they're rumors," she said.
"Of course they are. They're absurd," Farah answered.
"Maybe," Priya said. She didn't want to argue with her grandmother about this yet, when the thoughts were still forming in her head.
"So Fudge is worried about Grindelwald. Despite using his information to oust Harry Potter from Hogwarts? And not bothering to back any of the sanctions the Spanish tried to impose on his emerging power in France?" Farah asked.
"Maybe. I haven't been following the politics that close," Priya said. "We're supposed to have dinner with him this evening."
"That seems like a trap," Farah said.
"Maybe. But it's not that easy to trap Harry Potter," Priya answered. Farah looked skeptical.
"What did you need from me then?" she asked.
"You know people high in the ministry. You have contacts we can't dream of. Harry is skeptical of everything that comes from Fudge. He'd like to get a better feel from others but we're both on a bit of an island here," Priya said.
"You want me to spy for you?" Farah asked.
"I guess sort of. Not if it's impertinent. I am mostly hoping for another opinion. Fudge coming to Harry seems so far out of left field that if tonight isn't a trap he's not sure what else to do. I know it's a lot to ask."
"It's nothing to ask," Farah said. "I was going to ask around anyway. Something isn't adding up. And I'm not sure I like the way the wind is blowing."
"Be careful," Priya said. Farah waved her off.
"From the sound of it, I'm not the one who needs to be careful," her grandmother said.
"I wouldn't worry about me," Priya smiled. It was enough to make her grandmother shake her head. She clearly didn't believe her.
"If Grindelwald or Fudge are worried about Harry. The easiest way to get to him would be to go through people he loves," Farah said.
"Yes, I know," Priya answered.
"That means his wife," Farah added.
"Yes, I know," Priya answered. Her tone indicated how little she thought of such a threat.
"And you're not concerned?"
"You know how Emily tried to burn the world down when she lost her loved ones?"
"Of course," Farah sighed. "There've been drunken nights where I blamed my own slow reaction for that. Even had I been able to save one of them, imagine the outcome?"
"You can't blame yourself for that," Priya said.
"I don't," her grandmother responded. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't keep me up some nights. Ten minutes, Priya. Ten more minutes, maybe less, and the world may have never known Lord Voldemort."
"I'm sorry," Priya answered as she saw tears well in her grandmother's eyes.
"Don't do anything stupid. Don't think you're immortal because your husband is powerful," she answered.
"Oh, I don't," Priya said.
"Then be careful," Farah ordered.
"I will," Priya answered. "But it's different."
"How?"
"Emily tried to burn the world to the ground when she lost her family. Harry wouldn't try. He'd succeed," Priya said. She paid for their meals as her grandmother shook her head once more.
"You're that confident in him?"
"Anyone dumb enough to hurt me deserves whatever happens to them," Priya answered. She tried to keep her voice light. Like such thoughts didn't bother her. She didn't think it worked. She didn't feel it necessary to add that Emily would be helping. "Shall I walk you back to the hospital?"
"That would be lovely," her grandmother said.
Author's Note: This is a bit of an odd chapter that may have warranted just skipping as it fit more into a differing version of this 'story' that was actually a trilogy rather than a duology. I can make a reasonable argument for cutting it, but thought it served well enough to set up Harry's return from England and the coming fight.
As always thanks for reading. I do appreciate the continued support I receive. If you'd wish to support me further I can be found on PAT RE ON. There are five additional chapters, up to the penultimate chapter, of CTS available there at the moment. As well as nine additional chapters of my other WIP, Conjurations & Catacombs.