Sorry for the late upload, I'm planning three chapters coming in April to compensate for my tardiness!

Whatever you rcognise belongs to Rowling, this is her world I'm just having fun!

Enjoy! :)

TN_Chapter 24.

Summer 1994.

(17)

"Quick, d'you know privacy spells?" – Sophie Borgin pulled Anne into an abandoned classroom as soon as she returned from the Greenhouses, closing the door with a Colloportus and a Disaudio that Anne repeated, turning to the ground-floor windows.

"What's going on?" – she asked her excited friend, sensing joy and worry under her alarm.

"Look," – Sophie produced a small black box painted with golden snakes and closed with a latch. "It came with the morning owls! My uncle wasn't happy, but I promised I wouldn't use it!"

Anne carefully opened the lid and stared at two phials of mud-coloured liquid, an amber that captured a dragonfly and some strange mist, and a small etui with silvery powder.

"Don't breathe on it!" Sophie closed the etui quickly and put it back in its place. "It's time-crystal. A type of quartz my uncle once received from China. They fill Time-Turners with similar dust, as I heard. Only the Unspeakable are supposed to have this!"

"What do you want with these?!"

"I want Miranda to have them!" – Sophie explained, wide-eyed with excitement. "She could once relive an hour if she sprinkles this around her. That's Polyjuice and a touchstone. Have you heard of those?"

"They give clarity of mind and a connection to telepathically communicate with the one you held it with… Sophie! This is a fortune!"

"I know, right? She needs some dowry after all…" – Sophie shrugged, and Anne could sense her mood turning to sadness. She didn't want her sobbing, or she would lose it too.

"They'll be all right, Sophie. They have each other, and Miranda is a cunning wrench, and Milan is a strong wiz! My brother arranged their portkey. He knows what he's doing!"

"But what if the Fawleys reach after them through Gringotts? They need a way to defend against anything out there! There are sphinxes, and werewolves, and even things none of us thought about! What if…"

Anne simply hugged her, and Sophie finally broke down. Her sobs were silent, just like Anne's tears. "You know we must stop before she sees us, do you? This is their wedding day! It doesn't matter if we cannot witness it, Milan will make her happy! Where's your optimism?"

"My what?" – Sophie looked up, still clutching her arm. "D'you think I've ever had that?"

That made Anne laugh, and they chuckled through their tears until they dried.

"That's a marvellous dowry! Miranda won't have a thing to be ashamed of," – Anne said when Sophie blew her nose and finally calmed down. "Caleb will wait for us in London. We will cheat time and see them off in peace."

Sophie nodded and straightened her shoulders. "I never gave enough credit to your brothers. Can you forgive me?"

"They have their moments," – Anne tried to hearten her but she thought about Caleb's dealings, the lost wand, and the broken oath that still bound Gavin and herself. Not that she wished to support the old creeps, but making a wand oath all those years ago seemed now so irresponsible she could hardly accuse Caleb of making a mess of their father's plans.

She looked at Sophie's weary eyes and decided her woes about her own future dwarfed in comparison to Miranda's decision. If she and Milan could pull this off, she would be all right, too. And Sophie really didn't need one more friend to worry about.

"I'll work for my uncle for free the whole summer, but it was worth it," – Sophie whispered when she closed the box and dismissed her charms. "Will you come and see me?"

"Wouldn't miss it! But you have to promise to introduce me to the famous Mr. Burke!" – Anne giggled. "I'll get him a cake he can pick at while he tells me all those tales and stories!"

Sophie laughed with her, and they planned the summer walking down to Hogsmeade. They made sure to have their own compartment on the train so Miranda and Milan could spend the day among friends. None of them mentioned anything about their plans or worries until they passed Glenfinnan, and then Milan closed the shades on the compartment door.

"Have any of you tried to Apparate from a moving object?" – he asked after casting a silencing charm on the closed door.

"It's nothing more difficult than doing it the usual way. The point of origin doesn't matter, only your focus on the destination. Destination, determination, deliberation, remember?" – Miranda looked at Anne worriedly. "Are you sure Milan shouldn't Side-Along you? How much do you know the Muggle street in front of the Leaky?"

"I grew up nearby," – Anne assured her. "I'm not that practiced, but I will manage," she promised, but she also thought about the dittany in her pocket. She was more-or-less confident she wouldn't Splinch, but better be safe than sorry.

The girls re-enforced Milan's silencing charm on the compartment's door, then the whole group De-Apparated to London to win half a day of a head start for the couple. Caleb was already waiting for them, and without a word, he walked across the busy street and disappeared behind a fast-food restaurant. The four followed him into a park, enforced with safety and privacy spells like a magical bubble.

Sophie finally let her tears show above her smile, handed Miranda the box, and hugged her. She reached out for Anne, and the three girls embraced for some moments before Caleb called their attention with a cough.

"If there's anything I could give you in exchange," – Milan began when Caleb produced the illegal portkey. To Anne's surprise, her brother didn't dismiss his gratitude.

"Actually, I'm curious about your travelling papers, mate," – he grinned at the other boy. "You'd be a fool to cross Egypt leaving your tracks behind."

Milan eyed him contemplatively, but Miranda gasped. "How'd you know that?!" – she asked.

But her boyfriend put a calming hand on her arm and stepped closer to Caleb. "I wasn't supposed to share the name, so you'd better be very careful," – he said, conjured a piece of parchment, and scribbled up a name and an address.

"I will," – Caleb nodded with all seriousness. "Godspeed, mate! Have a good one!"

"You too!" – Milan shook his hand and reached for his witch.

Anne held Sophie close while their friend swirled away to an unknown future in a distant land, but with a wizard, she trusted with her life and loved above all.

"So bloody romantic, I never cared for such madness," – Sophie sniffed.

"I know. It's nuts, right?" – Caleb watched her. "Perhaps romantic if you cut the story at the right moment, but you'll never know when that is…."

Anne was silently horrified by his seeming lack of feelings, but Sophie finally chuckled.

"Exactly," – she nodded. "I've always been more frightened about what comes after the romance?"

"Some hope they find someone they still could like when it sucks already," – Caleb shrugged. "Good for them!"

"Yeah, good." Sophie's eyes shone with a peculiar glint as if she saw Caleb for the first time. Anne was distantly aware of her brother smirking back at Sophie but was preoccupied with their words. She never truly contemplated if she believed in a happily-ever-after.

"So… d'you care for a burger while we wait for the train to arrive?" Caleb said.

They followed his suggestion, dismissed his wards, and held a reception of cheeseburgers and chips for the eloped couple in their absence. At about six, the girls Apparated at Platform Nine and three-quarters and mingled with the crowd, rescuing their trunks from the closed compartment, never mentioning if they noticed their housemates' absence.

Caleb dutifully showed up for his sister, and his nod to Sophie was unnoticeable in the crowd.

"Are you sure you want to see Father?" – he asked Anne on their way, leaving the station behind. "Your letter was disturbing. Gavin thinks you were either under the weather or psyched out when you wrote it."

"Perhaps," – Anne agreed. "But I got an idea and need to see it through. You told Snape about Father cursing me, you dunderhead! What were you expecting?" – she added when Caleb looked at her with surprise.

"You got an idea from Snapey?"

"Well, I doubt he would own to it, but… You said Father believes his curse is still holding, did you?"

"Yeah, more the fool he is…"

"Then why don't we use that?" – Anne asked. "Look, I want to stay with Rachel, in which case I would be close to you to convince you. As proof, we could act as if I'd already worked on you enough to get you home for this weekend. He doesn't need to know anything else. You may even quarrel. Don't push him too far. And I'll play devil's advocate. You'll finally De-Apparate on Sunday, and I will follow to convince you."

"Not that," Caleb listened carefully but then shook his head. "If you pull this off, I will never cross you in my life, A-bee, and I'll never question your place in Slytherin again, either. But there's no way I'd leave you behind."

"So what do you suggest? I need to get back to Rachel!"

Caleb grinned at her. "We'll make a scene."

Anne let her brother accompany her to the gates of the old family home for pretence, and the game began. Although the balance in her mind was restored, she had never found it easier to use the Anabella part of her personality: the distrustful, almost pure-blood, almost squib, who acted meekly and kept to herself. Monty approved of this daughter and enjoyed listening to her detached ramblings about family responsibilities and Caleb's duties for their name.

Meal times were still spent in discomfort and mild hostility. Anabella wasn't sure if she liked her father's enthusiasm after her professors' letters suggested that a practiced Herbologist would be well-received on the marriage market someday. The most disturbing was that Monty didn't find the thought of a husband for her too early.

"I expect you to worm your way into Professor Sprout's good graces, my dear," – he told her in his study, discussing the letters. "There's enough word about the upcoming games at Hogwarts. If your school hosts Durmstrang the next year, you must build acquaintance."

"Dursmstrang?" – she asked back in genuine surprise. It was hard to recall whether Sprout had hinted at something special, and she couldn't think too deeply at the moment.

"There's nothing yet settled, but knowing the Headmaster…" – Monty sighed, then rewarded his daughter with a soft smile. "I recall Igor Karkaroff. I met him in my youth once. Times change, Anabella. Once, no one believed he could set foot back on these Isles, and now Albus Dumbledore and the Minister himself are courting him to restore the traditional Tournament. I'm counting on detailed letters about their moves in the school."

"Of course, papa, thank you!" – Anabella nodded and hid her eyes. It was so rare to receive such trusting words from her father she wasn't sure she wouldn't disappoint him.

"So… What is the vibe this year? What caught your fancy for the summer? Mediwizardry and soaps are behind us, I hope."

"I need to convince my brothers to return to us," – Anabella smoothly replied. "There's nothing more important than the family to stay strong."

"Good!"

"And perhaps I can also look into growing nightshades…" – she risked.

"Nightshades, you say? Is there a particular reason for your choice?"

"I only enjoy their beauty," – Anabella lied. "The Greenhouses are so calm and quiet… I enjoy hiding out there sometimes," – she added a hint of truth.

"You always loved the gardens, I remember! Now be a good girl, and leave me to my work," – he smiled and nodded towards the door.

She knew the dismissal also meant she should return to her room until dinner, but she remembered something about time… as if she wasn't supposed to stay that long…

The memory made her stop short before her room, and Anabella sank deep enough into her thoughts for Anne to take the lead. Caleb would soon provoke a fight!

She was already weary of their plan, but they needed to win time to spend in London before her first day at St. Mungo's! The butterflies in her stomach were decidedly part of another life! They were enough to suppress the small surge of satisfaction about misleading her father. She was sure even a Legilimens wouldn't have caught her lying in his study, which suggested she should build up Effie Brown before she reported for her first day as an assistant wiz-nurse.

Caleb's steps approached on the corridor, and he left the door open when he entered Monty's study. Hearing the beginning of the altercation, Anne hurried to her room and packed her things, leaving her trunk with outgrown robes and torn quills by her bedside and shrinking a backpack with her things small enough to hide in her pocket.

When she returned to the corridor, Caleb already pushed their father to his breaking point and yelled he wouldn't spend another minute in the house. She followed him, shrieking her disapproval as they had agreed, and reached him just outside of the door to catch his arm before he Apparated.

"Well, that was almost fun!" – Caleb panted when the squeezing sensation subsided, and they found themselves at Knockturn under Evarard's Venoms' swinging trade sign. "You okay, A-bee?"

"Yeah. No cursing this time."

"Sure. I saw his face, the man was almost grinning, goddamn him!"

"You shouldn't say such a thing," – she replied on autopilot, and Caleb's eyes narrowed at her with suspicion.

"I only mean it's indecent. He may be an arse, but you don't have to be like him!"

Caleb's questioning gaze didn't relent. "Maybe?"

Anne rolled her eyes and pushed him aside to walk towards Diagon Alley. At least, she hoped she got the direction right.

"Have you heard about this Tournament thing?" – she asked when her brother followed.

"That's supposed to be a secret," – he said. "We are to engage transportation from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but they are adamant about using their own means… its endless talks and coordination between the schools and the Ministry. I'll be surprised if, in the end, it happens at all."

"What happens?

"Well, if you really spend the summer with Sprout, you might check out something from the library about the Triwizard Tournament… Wait, on second thought, you'd better not. You're not supposed to know about it."

"I can ask Sprout if you don't tell me," – Anne reminded him, and Caleb grinned.

"Cool, I'll let her do the honours of corrupting you, then. You said you needed to talk – Fortescue?" – he asked when they reached the main street.

Anne nodded happily, and soon they settled with lavender water and walnut creams on the backside of the broad terrace, and their chatter washed with the noises of the busy street.

"So, here's the next load," – Caleb handed her a purse under the table. "It's three hundred, I will get the rest sooner or later."

"That's too much, you could live at a decent place if you didn't-"

"If I didn't make a fool of myself," – Caleb cut her. "Things are as they are, take it! And with the World Cup coming, I might even repay the rest within two months."

"You do not repay me by Galleons won by wager!" – Anne gasped.

"As you wish," – her brother shrugged. "Although it would be hard to pick which was which," – he took back the purse and peeked into it. "No, there's nothing to distinguish them," – he closed the purse. "Take it! Money is money."

Anne put it away with a huff, and her beginning good mood turned sour already. "No, it isn't. Haven't you learned a thing from the whole mess? Caleb, how could you?!"

"How? Legally with Muggles, that's how." He winked, but Anne could feel his temper rising. "Brought you by the Red Devils," – he shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. When Anne kept staring at him, he added impatiently: "Look, I learned I cannot trust the like of me. I also learned that football is more reliable. Muggles also won't break my leg because I have a wand. And Man United had a marvellous season. Go ask Mr. Smith if you don't believe me!"

"Caleb!"

"Stop it, A-bee! Haven't I done everything for you and Gavin ever since? I need something good in my life too, you know! And the Bloody Transport Department won't buy my debt to you! It's only going to kill me!"

"Caleb, you're not serious! What you've done there for Miranda and Milan…"

"Big deal, just a fucking portkey! I-"

"It was a big deal!" – Anne argued, now infected with her brother's hurt and anger. "For them, it was! You have no idea how much you could do where you are! I could use your help, too! If only I could trust-"

"But you can trust me, little swot! You can!" Now, he even sounded a little crazed, and Anne's worries multiplied.

"Then why did you mention the World Cup?"

Caleb suddenly folded into himself and rubbed his face with his palms. "I just thought… I can't owe you money…" – he tried to explain. "You're my little sis, when I had to look Filch in the eye knowing that he knew… shite! I have to be a man, A-bee. A wizard for myself, see? I have no choice!"

"Of course you have! Wizards make mistakes every day, look at them! But if you go back to gambling, how could I build upon you? How could you be my strong big brother then?"

"I can win," – Caleb shrugged and pointed at her pocket and the purse.

"Yes," – Anne admitted. "And so you make me gamble, too. For you either win, and I can rely on you, or you don't, and we all go down, and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"Don't be unjust, I just paid!"

Anne picked the purse out of her pocket and pushed it back into his hands. "Screw it! You don't owe me a thing. We're done! Now you don't need to gamble again!"

She tried to stand up, but Caleb pulled her back.

"Stay!" – He hissed urgently. "For the gods' sake! I did it for you, A-bee! All of it," – Caleb looked away. "And anyway, the portkey and all the cloak and daggers… felt nice. Doing something feels nice. Your friends were worth it, but at work, there's nothing… I could also just… you know… go a little astray and pay you off at least."

"Do for me something else!"

"Like what?"

Anne shrugged, but then Snape's words came to mind. "You could give advice…" – she felt her brother's spirits lifting and saw the eagerness in his eyes. "You could think of all the safety measures around Rachel's home I would never think of in a hundred years. And Snapey said you would know about things I should care about when I Apparate."

Caleb leaned closer with a grin on his face and a little shocked. "Snapey?!" – he repeated in a whisper.

"Well, he knows that being with Rachel is only a part of why I'm staying in town. He wants to… I don't know what he wants, but he got me that place by Sprout for the summer, and also, I'll need to Apparate to St. Mungo's 'cause Poppy got me a job there, and–"

"What? But… how?"

"There's this odd magic that makes me age a little faster, remember? Well, it turned out I'm past seventeen and accepted as an assistant wiz-nurse for now."

"But why are you doing this?"

It would have been nice to finally trust somebody with all her secrets and talking about being an Empath and using a Time-Turner, but Caleb had just admitted he was still gambling and seemed ready to do stupid things… Anne bit her lips. "I have a hunch that we'd all be glad if one of us became a Healer."

"A hunch?" She felt Caleb's suspicions and could almost see the cogs turning in his head. "A-bee, you're coming up with things… like befriending Duvessa, and then we're rid of the whole bunch. Then you say Aunt is not even guilty, and we also believe you. Then you show up with Filch and Snape at Gran's funeral, and they handle you with… respect? Was it? You learn quickly and do all that homework, but this is more."

"Yeah, well," – she tried to figure out how to answer, not knowing where to look. "Filch likes me all right, but don't worry, Snape still believes I'm a fool."

"Does he?" – Caleb asked, not even trying to react to her nervous chuckle.

"I can guarantee you that," – Anne said confidently, remembering the password on her pebble. It was still in her pocket, charmed, so she couldn't lose it. "I don't know what you thought to tell him about Father, but-"

"I hardly told him anything new. He seemed to have known most of it already," – Caleb shrugged off her complaining.

"What?! I never told him a thing!"

"Fancy he thought to ask me about Mum then," – Caleb mused. "He went somewhere with Filch, and when he returned, he just sat by me. I was freaking out, but he was less of a jerk than I expected."

"What did he say?"

"That he was sorry for our loss and the usual bullshit. Then he mentioned Father wasn't around and asked if I needed anything."

"With Father?"

"It came across that way," – Caleb nodded. "He said he didn't see our Mum and that if I needed help to protect her or you, I would still be welcome to turn to him at Hogwarts. He seemed to calm down when I told him we got Mum sorted. Then I mentioned I didn't think you still should be around."

"You told him he cursed me," – Anne reminded.

"Yeah, and I won't apologise. He should be in Azkaban only for that. And I had the feeling Snape thinks the same. Which is odd, considering what people say about him and the creepy lot, but he seemed quite put out finding you with all those Dementors by the gates. You should have taken that more seriously!"

"I'm fine."

"Yeah. No thanks to Father," – Caleb deemed. "It was still strange to see Sanpey so peeved. I knew he somehow protected our hides at school, but I never thought he would go out of his way to look after a Snake even out here."

"Well, I'm good at Potions, and Filch is his friend…" – Anne tried, but strange images came to mind.

Snape at her first-year detention actually answering her questions – Snape whispering with Filch above her bed when she was yet to understand her unique talent – Snape crying to Filch about a promise he'd made – taking her to a place which was haunted by old emotions – holding her up when she fell – providing his hearth so she could see Madame Pince then demanding her to perfect her occlumency… She remembered clearly how he'd denied her to become her friend, how the gossips painted him one of the Dark Lord's followers, and recalled his agitation when the old Malfoy managed to sack the Headmaster.

She still had a vivid image of him as he just stood and watched her comforting Mr. Filch after Mrs. Norris got petrified, and how he cast privacy spells to convince her to stay in the Common Room when the monster took a child, and the school was about to close. He kept challenging her, and she rarely felt she passed muster – but then he didn't seem to mind her attacking him when she expected a murderer and didn't lie about his feelings when she discovered the wolfsbane. However, he'd lied to Lupin to deter his attention from her.

He seemed entertained when she lost balance of the personality parts she'd somehow ripped, trusted her abilities to work out her problem, and he was even ready to brew with her. He accepted her help when he was down and expressed worry about her mindset and circumstances. He thought about those deeply enough to fix the chain on her Time Turner and to make her a probably illegal portkey. Should she show that to her brother?

Looking at Caleb, she also remembered how devastated Snape had been when he told her he'd ruined her life. Madame Pince's blessing her also drove him to distraction. She'd never seen a grown man that vulnerable since the war was over… but how could she explain to Caleb what she didn't understand?

"They are also friends with Poppy, and it looks like I have some talent she wants to exploit. Snape didn't like it at first, but I need a job to make a living, and when Poppy proposed I use an alias, he suggested I ask you about safety."

Caleb raised both eyebrows, staring at her with amused disbelief. "He suggested you talk to me?"

"Well, yeah." Anne almost smiled at how much pride Caleb found in the fact. "It would be nice to tell your address at Mungo's instead of Rachel's, but if that doesn't go through Mr. Everard…."

This cracked Caleb up. "Bloody hell, does he want you to vanish?!" He laughed hard but silently; only his shoulders shook, and he looked down to control his cheer. "I can peek at the Map of Magical Activity, and we would know if the Trace still worked on you or if your wand was followed. But if it is, then you're already in trouble with the MLE."

"I don't think I am…" – Anne shook her head. She didn't even think about those things. "Can they follow me if I Apparate between Rachel, St. Mungo's, and Hogwarts?"

"They could if they wanted to, but they have to identify your wand first," – Caleb replied. He stopped for a moment before going on: "If you want to make their job really hard, you shouldn't Apparate from Rachel's at all. Even better if you don't use magic at her or anywhere nearby.

"I've been working for the MLE, remember? We first looked up the Map of the Department for Magical Transportation. If you don't leave your tracks behind on that, and there's no uncommon magical activity in the Muggle district, no one will find you."

It was such a simple idea, Anne grinned at her brother.

"Will you tell me what you've gotten yourself into?" – Caleb asked, this time with all seriousness.

"Nothing!" – Anne cried out, almost too loudly in shock. "It's just that Father perhaps wouldn't like what I'm doing… and also…that odd magic I mentioned… I didn't realise it would come across like that!"

"Like smoke and mirrors?" – Caleb smirked. "You know, I looked into the gossip about Snape, and some say he escaped back then because Dumbledore had said he'd been a spy."

"A spy?" – Anne whispered, leaning closer. But it all made sense in a way…. "D'you think that made him develop this persecution complex? I swear he's a bloody maniac! He doesn't even talk to people and avoids the portraits! He closes his Floo whenever possible and keeps these privacy spells all around!" She almost added what she'd seen in Snape's drawer but stopped before she talked herself into a corner where she would have to explain what she'd been doing in Snape's private study in the first place.

Caleb nodded, with his eyebrows questioningly raised. It was plain to sense his wish to know more… suspicions… curiosity… a hint of disbelief… but overall, Anne got the impression that Caleb enjoyed this conversation immensely. He also tried to be helpful:

"We learned in our second year with Gavin that the portraits shouldn't be trusted," – he told her. "Listen, I'm not an idiot. I've asked for Milan's contact on purpose. You probably don't like me wagering even with the Muggles, but that's a way out for me. If I had the money to vanish and knew you'd be all right, I might…" – he shrugged.

"Maybe you wouldn't have to," – Anne gasped.

"Yeah, maybe. But it's good to know I could if I had to, you know? Like you seem to try." When Anne tried to speak up and reassure him, he shook his head. "Those are freaks, Anne! Whatever makes Filch and Snape help you, I say keep it up, but be ready to run! And tell me, if you need an escape, will you?"

"Now I also believe you have a persecution complex," – Anne told him after she stared at him enough.

Caleb only laughed and let them meander back to safer subjects. Like Rachel and the Smiths, and how much Kelly and Gavin looked forward to seeing Anne. That finally felt nice.

Leaving Diagon Alley through the Leaky, they agreed to meet at the Smiths on the weekend, and Anne soon lost Caleb from sight in the crowd. She crossed the zebra lines and had a good twenty-minute walk up the Charing Cross Road. Thinking about Caleb and Snape, gambling, cloaks, and daggers, until she finally climbed the stairs to the first floor of the old blockhouse and rang the bell. She lamented about her life, the world, and especially Caleb and Snape by proxy, right until she saw Rachel, her paleness, and the tremble in her hand that exiled all thoughts and emotions from her mind but worry and regrets. She should have come sooner.

Rachel – for the first time since she took her great-niece in as a lost child without any guidance – looked old. She radiated loneliness and fatigue, as if grief exhausted her or like she lost direction. Anne followed her into the kitchen, watched her pour tea, and listened to her soft ramblings about the room, which wasn't yet completely ready.

It proved too much for Rachel to evict all Rose's belongings so shortly after the funeral. She drawled on about her being ashamed for sentimentality, and Anne was embarrassed for not being there for her sooner. She apologised for not having biscuits to offer, and Anne watched her narrow wrist and almost translucent skin, showing veins and spots, and tried to find out whether she'd bothered to have a full meal throughout the last week at all.

They slept in the living room – Anne in the large and puffy armchair and Rachel on the bed settee – and in the morning, the last thing on her mind was going to St. Mungo's. Rachel needed her first. She ran down for shopping, got rid of the sour milk from the fridge, made the tea and breakfast, and cut up some apples so her aunt could nibble on a slice wherever she chose to sit around.

"I'll pop in for work, but I'll be back in no time," – Anne promised, and she lied that there was only some paperwork to fill out yet. Surely, within five hours or so, she could turn back time and keep Rachel company? Alas, she didn't count on the time she was about to lose by taking the tube.

It was so symbolic to enter the Hospital for Magical Injuries and Maladies through the main entrance for her first day! Like a new beginning. She only felt unprepared and out of place when she had to introduce herself as Euphemia Brown. With all the family drama, she failed to develop a new persona, similar to Anabella, for Effie, and now Anne struggled not to act like the schoolgirl she was.

"Ah, you must be Ulfhild's pet!" – the welcome witch at the counter in the Entrance Hall looked her over without any hint of approval. "She's been waiting for you. Mediwitch Brunswick's office, second door on the left on the other side. Next one?"

Anne ambled away, slightly confused by the witch's tone. Was she late already? It hardly past seven by a minute or two! She found the door she was sent to and hoped Ulfhild would remember, but when she entered, she only saw an empty office and a pile of parchment on the abandoned desk. She dared not sit down and was uncomfortable just standing around. After a few moments, an elder witch's voice sounded from the inner office:

"Are you back now? These folders won't sort themselves!" Anne looked around, hoping for some idea of what to do, and the witch yelled again: "You might believe you're good enough, but getting rid of you wouldn't get me to a worse place! If I'm stuck at this hole, I'll put this place into order! I need no more tossers, even if- Oh, hello, have you lost your way, girl?"

"Good morning, Madame Brunswick, I was told to report here to Ulfhild Rookwood about the assistant wiz-nurse place…" – Anne felt her voice slipping up and fell silent before her speech became chirping.

"That worthless bint is out again, I have no time for… ah!" – she halted and looked Anne over again. "Aren't you the one fresh from Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Madame."

"It's Mediwitch Brunswick then, girl," – the older witch corrected her with narrowed eyes. "I might have been shoved to hell, but I still know what my wand's for. Has Poppy skipped the use of a calendar lately?"

"E-excuse me?"

"We expected you on Saturday, girl. Where have you been?"

Gasping was useless, Anne still blanched, trying to find the words. "I wasn't told… I came as soon as I found a place to live here."

"Not from town?" Mediwitch Brunswick shook her head and dug through the parchment on her assistant's desk. "Here, fill this out, girl, and don't be late again. Eight-hour shifts on rotation, half an hour for nourishment and recreation, and be here on time so you can get dressed with the others. What's your wand wood?"

After a moment of confusion, Anne realized she should go with the ebony wand; the maple belonged to her fifth-year self.

"Is it?" – Mediwitch Brunswick's eyes found nothing to scold her for, for the first time. "Sheambaum would be pleased. You'll begin with the Poisonings, and then we'll see what to do about you. Are you aspiring to be a wiz-nurse?"

"Yes, Mediwitch Brunswick."

"So dumb on your NEWTs?"

Anne blanched again and swallowed her nerves. There wasn't a good reply to that. She had no idea what Poppy could have said about the matter. The mediwitch smirked.

"We give it a shot," – she said with what Anne tried to understand as encouragement. "Parchment," she pointed to the desk and returned to her office.

It didn't get much better from that point. By the time Anne filled out the parchment giving her brother's address at Knockturn, ebony as her wand wood, and a modest three sentences about her reasons for joining St. Mungo's, which Ulfhild soon told her no one would read, Assistant Rookwood returned and smiled through a thorough dressing down from her boss. She then showed Anne the changing room for nurses and the bench at the back where the assistant nurses were allowed to linger. Within the hour, the St. Mungo's seemed all about discipline and respecting rank.

The others had been at hard work for an hour already, so it was no surprise that Mediwizard Sheambaum wasn't over the Moon to accept a witch visibly too young, too late, and too clueless to join his staff. His apprentice, Conrad Lovehex, was about as friendly as to a cockroach. Amanda Purse, the wiz-nurse on duty at the Department for Magical Poisoning on the third floor, quickly decided to employ the new girl as an owl between their ward and office and the Alchemy Room on the Ground Floor.

The problem was that Pert Wiggins, Sheambaum's apprentice at the Alchemy Room, was yet to receive notice about the new assistant nurse, and Augustine Dice, the wiz-nurse working with him, first sent for the troll guards after dropping a phial of chimera spleen extract in her fright when Anne unexpectedly entered.

By eleven, when Anne had her first break, her only focus was hiding her wish to cry, and she couldn't be bothered about different personae or to show off anything at all. When Wiz-nurse Dice dismissed her for thirty minutes to recuperate, she hid outside of the loading gate for the Alchemy Room, leaned her head on a wall, and let her tears fall freely.

"That bad, eh?" A wizard in his fifties in an assistant nurse uniform and with a half-smoked cigarette dangling at the edge of his lips walked inside the Mungo's wards from the backstreet and casually stopped next to her, propping himself up with one leg on the wall.

Anne sniffed and tried to clear her face. "Sorry, sir. It's only my first day."

The wizard found her words hilarious enough to snicker. "Sir? You must be green if you're such a polite pup!"

Anne was over even trying to understand. She only turned her head away. The wizard snickered again. "And now hurt in her feelings! What got you into this hell, birdie, you don't seem like the rest o'em!"

"I don't know what you mean," – Anne breathed, trying hard not to cry again.

"There was word about a new one," – the wizard told her. "I expected no child, though. Where'd they put ya?"

"Department for Magical Poisoning on the third-"

"To Sheambaum's, eh? That's a good man, don't ya worry. His apprentice got to you, has he?"

Anne shrugged. "I didn't know I was late. And this is someone else's uniform. I can't move in it… I messed up in the Alchemy Room, and I don't know the schedule or whatever that rotation means, and everyone behaves as if I should already… I…"

The wizard watched her for a few moments longer, but when she didn't go on, he asked. "So, who do you hate the most? Who's been the worst yet?"

Anne stared at him as if she didn't even comprehend his meaning. "Why would… I'm just ashamed! They all think I should understand things I don't! I've never felt so dumb in my life! It's not their fault!"

For whatever reason, this cracked the wizard up so hard his head rolled back onto the wall, and he took the fag from his lips and held it between his fingers instead, not to swallow it in whole.

"You'll be a funny one to watch!" – he cried out. "Here, the name's Frank Strawman, assistant wiz-nurse for these last twenty-odd years. Seems we're sorted in the same shift, birdie, so don't be shy to seek me out cause I love a good laugh like the next in line. We don't get here enough of those."

"Yeah… thanks…" – Anne hesitantly looked up at him. The wizard didn't look sympathetic the least. "I think I just…" – she gestured toward outside of the wards and walked away while Frank Strawman laughed behind her.

Outside on the backstreet, she cast a hasty Tempus and walked far enough to Apparate unnoticed. Not far from Rachel's house, she hid under a gate and turned back time, then bought some lunch and returned to her aunt.

"So soon?" – Rachel smiled at her from the depth of an armchair. She let the book she tried to read fall into her lap. Anne realised it must have been only an hour or so for her.

"I told you, I'll be back soon. What were you reading?"

The second morning passed in silent companionship, and she made sure Rachel would eat, too, after she wolfed down half of the takeaway by the kitchen counter before popping away and walking back for the rest of her shift. Now, she was also tired, with nineteen hours on her feet already. She would need to make a schedule, and so soon!

The afternoon from half eleven to four was cardio training on the St. Mungo's stairs, cut with short periods of embarrassment in the Poisoning ward or in the A-Room – as she'd learnt to call them. It turned out that Sheambaum was a likable wizard indeed whenever he got what he wanted from his staff, and even Wiz-nurse Dice proved herself decent, telling him when the new girl finally got something right.

Assistant Strawman's hurtful cheer was also explained as soon as Anne realized she called everything on the "outsider name," and most assistant nurses loved bitching at the end of their shift, letting out the steam which they called "comparing notes." She still couldn't join in on that, but she found it was an excellent source to learn about "the Mungos." No one bothered to pronounce the Hospital's whole name, just like no one spent time calling the wards by their long names.

"Day Llewelyn Ward is the "Venoms' level," Alchemy Room you call either the "A Room" or the Brewery, and the Janus Thickey Ward is "the Thickey." You'd better remember that!" – Frank advised.

"Are we updating the new girl?" – an older witch, Wendy, was calm and unassuming. Anne later learned she was in her sixties and never knew a life outside the Mungo's. "Call Sheambaum's realm the "Poisons' level, love. Artefacts Accidents is just a fancy name for emergency treatment. You wouldn't know if you could make it here before a shift there."

"But that young mediwiz, Marcus Dagworth," – Jaquelin, a sour witch in her forties, who kept swearing every week that it was her last, as it later turned out, now joined them. "He's also fresh. He's just been an Apprentice last year. Mmmm, isn't he delicious?"

"You won't ever taste his fragile Mediwizard arse," – Gus Sparkle, a half-blood wizard born and raised in the shady niches of Knockturn, snickered. "Mr. Nice-Arse still has time to break, Brunswick never liked him!"

Anne learned later that Gus was in his forties and had tried many jobs. The job at the Mungos was an accomplishment for him, elevating him above his kin and giving him the respect he craved. Unlike a young witch called Suzy Wane, whose work only served to feed her squib child after an ugly breach with her family when she refused to abandon her for unknown Muggles. She was more pragmatic:

"You don't need to gossip with them, Effie. You won't have the time. Have you learned the wiz-nurses' names yet? That should be the first thing you get down. They will make you or break you. All of them are appointed to look after an apprentice, but those fresh bastards do not know that. They behave like they were demi-gods, but you'll be smart to never believe them!"

"Wise idea," – Frank agreed. "They are in nappies compared to a trained wiz-nurse. The sooner they learn to ask, the sooner they will get on well with their bosses. Just like you, birdie."

Effie listened to all their tales while Frank watched her and snickered at whatever entertainment he drew from her various expressions. She was too knackered at that point to care. The good thing was receiving her own set of uniforms, finally enchanted to match her shape, and getting a much-needed heads-up on the rotation:

"Expect day and night shifts exchanging between our team and the others," – Wendy patiently explained. "This week, we're from seven to four, the next from four to midnight, then from midnight to seven. Not that bad, don't worry!" She seemed to be the kindest, but it occurred to Anne that they all were ready to help her. Filch must have been right about the numbers. Assistant nurses were badly needed.

It was high time to understand how to construct her schedule, too, with the peculiar need of turning time for Rachel, then later also for Professor Sprout. She shuddered to think how to accommodate such demands into her Hogwarts schedule from autumn, but September was a light year away, and all had to wait for a moment of clarity after a good few hours of rest.

When she left Mungo's wards for the day, she knew Rachel was probably waiting for her at home, but it was unimaginable to join her before she slept. So she turned back time and Apparated to Caleb's place at Knockturn, grateful for her brother for apparently already posting Mr. Everard on her likely visit. She found her way up to the small flat above the shop and fell asleep as soon as she set her wand to buzz and wake her.

Her third afternoon and evening held tidying up Rachel's flat without magic, and the morning came too soon.

"We have almost forgotten about your comparative exams this year, Anne," – Rachel welcomed her into the kitchen. She already had the kettle on and was now busy making breakfast. Anne didn't know if she was more relieved seeing her up and about or chagrined by the thought of her Muggle schoolings.

"Must I do that?"

"Well, it would be a sin to let all your hard work go down the drain," – Rachel deemed. "And after watching your mother… well… You must see what a Muggle diploma could provide you, darling! I won't act as if I understood your other relatives completely, but I know enough to recognise trouble." She looked her over with a heavy sigh. "At least for my peace of mind, Anne. Please, finish what you'd begun!"

There was no other way about it but to comply, and Anne constructed her schedule in a way that also accommodated her cramming and the exams at the Muggle school. She only turned back time in the Park, far enough from home, and Apparated promptly to the Mungo's.

Her first week earned her a totally screwed up series of exams, and the experience of both the hot and cold parts of Hell at St. Mungo's, with a child with rashes and fever clutching onto her while the Brewing Room took its time for coming up with a solution. Then, a lovely old lady at the Bug's Ward who was later told to have contracted dragon pox threw Effie Brown into quarantine, which messed up her routine.

Then she experienced throes of relief when Marcus Dagworth from the AA Ward finally pronounced her intact. However, she had a hard time understanding why Mediwizard Dagworth would ask her to undress to examine her with the scanning charms. Strangely, he also asked her to call him Marcus, reminding her about their previous acquaintance… Sensing his ulterior motives, she denied both requests and weathered his mocking grimaces for about half an hour.

When the Smiths invited her for the weekend after that, she was ready to submerge into their blissfully everyday family life. She hugged her brothers like a refugee reunited with her loved ones after precarious months.

When she arrived, Gavin and two brothers from the neighbourhood, who were quickly introduced as Dan and Steven White, were busy outshouting each other on the couch about Steve Bruce and Brian Robson signing off from Manchester United and what the man called David May would bring in in their stead. Kelly was rolling her eyes spectacularly, and Aida listened to music in the kitchen.

Anne only sat with the boys for a few minutes to be polite and greet George Smith. Still, he was at least as taken with the topic as the younger, so eventually, she cut vegetables and listened to Kelly about her two visits with Rachel.

"I never know what to say to her. She rarely reacts to anything but if I ask her about Rose," – Kelly complained, "and I really tried to avoid that because… you know, I don't think it's healthy."

"She is old enough to decide what's good for her," – Aida reminded. "You wouldn't want to chat around in her place either. Have you settled, Anne? You may always come join us if you'd like to," – she added with a smile.

"Thank you, Mrs. Smith, but we're okay. Rachel is…" – Anne searched for the right word – "Coping, I think. Especially since she can teach me Mu- erm… science and all. We also had a good walk in the Park last evening. The weather is nice enough."

"Just wait for July. We'll feel like sitting in a toaster! Kelly, have you got those cucumbers ready?"

Kelly took her chopping board to the counter, and Anne sensed her cheekiness even before she turned. "So… have you seen the rest of the drawings in your Gran's sketchbook?"

Anne froze. She hadn't spared a thought for that dress she wore for the funeral ever since, but the memory of seeing herself as a woman for the first time now made her blush.

"I didn't have the time."

"Rachel, let me take copies," – Kelly told her with a twinkle in her eye. "I've got them in my room. And I found you a skirt in the second-hand store!"

Anne peeked towards the couch, which looked overstuffed with the arguers now that even Caleb had arrived. Kelly caught her glance:

"Leave them be, they are all nutters! Since the Reds made the double, you cannot have a word here with anyone bearing a Y chromosome. Your brothers try sometimes, bless them, but to no avail."

"I don't like that Caleb bets on them even if they win," – Anne admitted, but Kelly only laughed.

"Dad took him. You won't say anything more offensive to them than Mum had when they returned, so don't even try. But it turned out okay. Dad is a huge fan! He waited for this to happen all his life, so we agreed to tolerate them for a while longer."

She threw herself on her bed and rummaged through some box she pulled from under it.

"You and your Mum can decide how long your Dad can ramble?" – the thought was so foreign that Anne giggled.

"Sure, as long as he wants to stay on Mum's good side! Here!" – she triumphantly pulled out a folder with a handful of copied drawings and side notes. "I've already shown them to Mum's seamstress, and she says your Gran must have been a genius!"

Anne looked over the treasure, trying not to cry. Rose drew mostly dresses, a robe, and an outfit she was unsure about… the trousers were broader than what she was used to, and the tops longer than fashionable among the Muggles. Kelly still seemed enthralled.

"She knew your shape better than anyone. These would fit you so nicely! Do you like sundresses?"

"I don't remember wearing anything else last summer," – Anne remembered. Unfortunately, it also reminded her of the Fawleys and Miranda's elopement. When Kelly asked what made her gloomy, she told as much as she dared.

Lunch was noisy and chaotic. The White brothers stayed, too, so there was no way all could sit by the table. Aida then agreed to George putting the VHS into the player so he could show off the highlights of his team beating Chelsea in the Final – for the seventeenth time if Kelly counted it right – and the guy called Dan squeezed between the girls and readily explained the finer points for Anne about the game.

On Monday, when the owl arrived from Eleonore Fawley, who invited her for afternoon tea on Thursday, she wished she had anything more useful on her mind than the unexpected knowledge about football teams and the offside rule. She arrived for work after her first training with Professor Sprout and two liberal showers to wash off the manure stench and took the afternoon shift. Ulfhild's request for assistance with the paperwork in Mediwitch Brunswick's office couldn't come at a better moment. She was in a daze.

"Here, all folders are titled. You only have to sort," Ulfhild said, showing her the task. "I know it's not what you bargained for, but I can't ready them alone in time," – she sighed and leaned back on her chair, watching Anne getting to work. "Gods, I would have loved to take some days off, but what remains then for the World Cup?"

Anne didn't look up, and soon Ulfhild dreamt about seeing the Quidditch Final. "You know, it was a fortune to get a place, but I figured there would be all those wild fans… probably even some from abroad… imagine if we even won!"

Anne politely smiled up at her and hid all thoughts about her weekend.

"Of course, this helps my uncle's ilk, which is probably the worst part…" – Ulfhild lamented. "Can you imagine how they all kept boasting about the Ministry? Merlin, I'm glad I'm out! But this must make them happy. All that good press if they don't screw it up! The fight between them and Dumbledore's puppets would be vicious, mind my words!"

"What are they fighting about? I thought the Headmaster was the Supreme Mugwump," – Anne stared up at her, astonished by her words.

Ulfhild chuckled. "D'you still call him Headmaster? You're such a sweet child, Effie! Better grow up, though," she added with a heavy sigh and finally joined in on sorting all the documents. "The Prophet calls him that name, love, 'cause it's better than reminding everyone about his station," – she explained. "Not that we, or those at the Ministry, forget it when he's trying to meddle… Now they would bark at each other about whose triumph is the World Cup if it goes down alright, or whose fault it is if it doesn't."

"You said you never regretted leaving your family behind," – Anne remembered.

"No," – Ulfhild shook her head and, for the first time since she'd known her, got her head down and got on with sorting the parchments. Anne could sense her emotions all over the place. Ulfhild was hurt deeply. She also felt vindictive but not strong enough to act upon it and gleeful when she spoke about the Ministry's possible failure. She also disliked Dumbledore and the Wizengamot. Everything but her friends and the entertainment she craved.

"Must be hard," – Anne pushed her so the paperwork wouldn't be so dull. It worked like magic. Ulfhild enthusiastically chatted about her woes and hardships for a while. Then she stopped to think before she said:

"But I don't really know what to wish for, you know? I used to have friends who now wouldn't recognise me on the street. Everything has a price."

Anne nodded. "I know what you mean." On Ulfhild's prompting, she mentioned she had a friend who ran away from home and how afraid she was of the upcoming tea with her relatives.

"That's a tough one," – Ulfhild agreed. "You shouldn't go alone. Don't you have someone to take with you?"

Anne thought about Sophie. "Perhaps," – she smiled at Ulfhild.

After some minutes, the older witch asked about the runaway friend, though Anne questioned the wisdom of sharing anything.

"I don't mean to intrude. There's just gossip about one of the Fawley girls missing."

Yes, it was definitely a mistake to speak up at all! Anne tried a nonchalant shrug, but she didn't convince Ulfhild.

"Love, I like you. I wouldn't see you mix up with that lot!"

"D'you mean the Fawleys or any of the clans?" Anne plastered a smile on her face when she asked back.

"They divide by interest," – Ulfhild explained. "The Fawleys' hunt is the Wizengamot, and they're trying for something big. A bloke came in two nights before just after midnight – secretary for one of the mugwumps – exhausted and poisoned on Invigoration Cocktails. Apprentice Pye says he kept mumbling about some Tournament. Have you heard about that?"

Anne thought it wiser to shake her head this time.

"Anything it is, it must be important for the Wizengamot if the Ministry coined the World Cup," – Ulfhild deemed. "Of course, Dumbledore must hope to reap whichever comes out the better. Here, we're at the half of it! Go, have a break while I grab a snack on the fifth floor!"

Anne happily escaped and used her Time-Turner to see after Rachel. She'd been afraid about what Eleonore Fawley might ask about Miranda, but now she realised there must have been plots and plans she could not follow at Hogwarts. Before returning to Ulfhild, she took a turn at Diagon Alley and sent an owl from the Post Office to ask Sophie if she knew more. She hardly spoke in the afternoon, and Ulfhild finally had more mundane thoughts on her mind.