Benjamin woke up on the living room floor. His younger sister, Hazel, snoring quietly on the sofa beside him with her He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and noticed the smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen. He trudged lazily into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to fill with milk. His mother greeted him in a hush (he goofily waved at her with eyes still half-shut) as he sat at the kitchen table, which sat by two windows: one facing the field and one facing the front of the farmhouse.

Ben could see his twin siblings playing in a shorter patch of grass in the field, his father sitting in a chair with his back to the window, watching his two youngest children as he puffed on his morning pipe.

The clock on the wall read ten minutes to eight o'clock. He felt relieved that his father had not woken him up twenty minutes earlier to help with morning chores. The quiet snoring from the living room had ceased.

"Sissy, come get breakfast!" Their mother called out to a now-awakened Hazel.

"Bathroom." Hazel called before her footsteps receded to the back of the house. A few minutes later she came back, hair barely tamed and her clothes from the day before were wrinkled. Sissy really didn't care sometimes. Perhaps this was the fault of growing up with three older brothers who, too, did not care.

Loud thuds could be heard outside. Both Hendrix children looked outside and saw Dad rounding up the twins to bring inside. They hugged their older siblings as they ran inside and were then shuttled to the bathroom to wash up.

Mom plated for everyone with a smile, obviously joyed at an extra child to have breakfast with, and placed them all in front of her hungry troops.

As always, everyone waited until she had seated herself across the table from Dad to begin eating. The twins picked off each others' plates while Mom and Dad conversed about the weekly inventory for the stall. Sometimes, he did find himself just watching them. They had been married for thirty years, and sometimes the love was so visibly strong it seemed disgustingly desirable.

After breakfast, their father scrubbed the dishes while their mother wiped down the table. Benjamin and Hazel took their siblings back outside, everyone now fully dressed with boots on their feet.

"Did you remember your wand?" Hazel asked calmly. Benjamin tapped his pocket with the free hand that wasn't grasping onto a toddler's. They made their way around the back of the house, past the shed, towards a path through some trees.

A few minutes of walking and they found the shrine for Elisha and the tree up on the hill where he was buried. Bunches of flowers had been planted around the headstone in colors of blue and white.

They stood in front of their deceased brother, speaking to him for a minute in their heads. The twins were sitting in the grass, pulling out blades of green and tossing it at each other.

Benjamin pointed his wand (11.75", with walnut wood and a phoenix feather core, reasonably pliant flexibility) towards the ground where the flowers were and muttered "Aguamenti". The soil became visibly darker and the flowers perked up a tad.

"Nice," Hazel complimented as she patted her brother on the back.

"Thanks."

"Bu-bu-bu-bu," cried out Leo as he waddled over, placing his tiny red cheek against the grey, etched stone.

"Yes, that's bubba. Good job, Leo." Hazel forced a smile. The sixteen year old witch was just twelve when her oldest brother was killed during the war. It was small moments like this that made her feel older than she actually was. Their sweet baby brother and sister would never get to meet their own, and she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty on occasion. Of course, they visit the gravesite at least once a week; the flowers and grass around the area look regularly cared for.

Ben and Hazel took the twins around the farm, feeding and watering some of the animals - sometimes manually and sometimes with magic. The twins proved to have strong magical abilities, naturally, but shared an affinity for hands-on activities. This is a pleasing trait while growing up on a homestead as one day they will have to pitch in with hands, not wands.

The Hendrix children finished their early-afternoon chores without any hindrance. Hazel led the twins up the porch steps and into the house with their mother (she was making lunch). Benjamin could make out the scratchy sound of the dusty, old turntable as it played Peggy Lee's "Pass Me By" vinyl album - another familiarity that seemed to pull him back into another nostalgic body-high.

Simpler and quieter times of day had begun to feel like a perpetually missed luxury in the city. Not silent, but quiet; and barely could the rushing of the creek towards the back of the property be heard over the bracing breezes and content farm inhabitants. The small noises such as these seemed to blend together to create what sounded like an orchestrated memory to Benjamin.

"Are you gonna move back?" Hazel had her eyes glued on her brother. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Maybe if Dad will let me buy some land off of him, that would technically count, huh?" Benjamin replied in question.

Hazel's eye lit up with excitement. "That would be cool, wouldn't it? I'm glad that Finn has been coming to help with the stall and see us once or twice a month but it would be nice to see you, y'know. If I had the both of you, my school work would be nearly flawless!" They shared a short laugh.

"In all seriousness, I expect I'll have grown too tired of the big city within a few years. And don't worry," he gave a light punch to her arm, "wherever I go, I'll make sure you have a place to sleep."

She rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. "Thanks, dork."

The Hendrix's enjoyed a spicy jambalaya dinner. Afterwards, they sat in the living room and played their musical instruments. Hazel was proficient with the fiddle and Benjamin found an affinity for the guitar and the cultural hand-drum. The twins would laugh, clap, and attempt to stomp dance near the fireplace while Atticus and Cora sat in their side-by-side chairs, holding hands and enjoying the rare sight of their children repeating their own history.

Cora and Atticus had always been more than proud of their children. They were the most proud when the boys refused to stay away from the school, arguing that their sister and their friends were forever worth fighting for. They thought about Elisha every day, they wished safe travels for Finnick, and prayed for courage for Benjamin. Hazel lived at home still, and with Voldemort gone, there was no need to worry while she was at Hogwarts. The twins were coming up to be bright and curious children, like their siblings before them.

Benjamin fell asleep thinking of his next interaction with Hermione. This caused him to dream of her fiercely.

The next morning, with his bag packed, he wandered downstairs to have his last breakfast with his family. He was unsure how long it would be before he would come back, all he knew was his only chance of seeing her again was getting back to the city.

The loving family ate their meal loudly and slow, trying to savor the time and conversation with Benjamin before they would wonder when their next opportunity was. "Eventually, letters don't cut it", they tell him. He carried his bag to the large fireplace in the living room. The family gathered around as he dipped his hand into the Floo Powder.

Mother began to cry a bit, as did the twins. Atticus and Hazel remained calm, though their faces told they were as upset. He saved solemnly with the powder gripped in his hand. He threw it down while yelling "The Leaky Cauldron!" and the green flames roared as they engulfed the young man.

A few seconds later, he emerged - rather dirty - from his workplace's fireplace. "Look sharp, Ben!" Called out Tom the barman.

Benjamin wiped the dirt off his leather jacket and then tousled his hair to get any that remained. "It's been a minute since I've used the Floo network. Bit of a ride; I should have apparated."

He sat at the bar for a few Butterbeers before apparating to his apartment. The alcohol and the wormhole feeling of apparating sent him straight to the shared bathroom. After he emerged, feeling a bit less sickly, he pulled a frozen meal from the freezer and popped it into the microwave. He turned the stereo on and the small speakers started playing "Jesus Christ" by Brand New. He drew back the curtains of the double doors that led to the balcony. The skies were painted grey and drops of rain raced down the glass. Benjamin's mind began to race.

It's too hard. You've never done it alone, you'd fail. Mom and Dad have to tend to their own, you can't ask for for help. What's the difference struggling here and struggling out there? You don't have the money, credibility, nothing. Settle for a menial labor job. Stay at the Cauldron. The opportunities are here, why else would you have come?

That train of thought vacated him. He knew why. Benjamin Hendrix wanted experience - and he wanted money. After Dumbledore's fall during his last year at school, he wanted to know what life was like without sharing everything, without worrying about others, without people always checking in on him. He wanted to be alone.

After he graduated from Hogwarts in 1997, he found himself moving out almost immediately (opposing his parents' wishes) into a small, stinky apartment on the poorer, east side of London. The search for employment did not bode well and to scrape by, he joined a local gym and become a "collector" for a well-known loan shark. Ben was notorious for his brawn on the reservation his father grew up on and that the family frequently visited when the children were growing up. Eventually he would skip around a few part-time jobs, like working in a mechanic shop or a butcher shop. Staying away from home meant his family would be safer from the clutches of Death Eater's and Benjamin could recon for the Order.

However, the responsibility and financial struggles seemed to be tipping points in the upcoming months. He took up drinking and smoking cigarettes, eventually taking up a few underground boxing matches to pay for the food and rent on top of keeping his collecting job for the loan shark.

His demeanor and appearance began to change dramatically - he was no longer full of life and athletic, but serious and burly. This frightened his parents with the Ministry falling to Voldemort around the same time. No matter how often he denied it, they would sometimes assume the worst - he had turned against the Order and became a Death Eater.

The Order of the Phoenix was aware of the rising dysfunction in his mentality. They knew he would be vulnerable to Legilimency and began leaving him out of the loop until around mid-December of 1997. He kept fighting Muggle men with his hands at night, and he kept "collecting" during the daylight hours - most importantly to the wizarding world, he kept his eyes on the streets of London, particularly those around the visitor entrances to the Ministry of Magic.

He'd sneer as he watched notably vile Ministry workers, Snatchers, and Death Eaters enter the Ministry as comfortably as they would enter their own homes. He received news late-March of '98 that the Golden Trio had been captured by a handful of Snatchers. He remembers the fret he felt for them all, and knowing they also had his school friend Luna Lovegood. He was instructed to do nothing, even though his first words to Remus Lupin were "I say we walk up in there and punch their lights out".

Benjamin was requested to stay at the Burrow with Molly while Arthur and the twins toured around with the other members of the Order. Benjamin, to the Order and his brother's dismay, seemed to be slipping again in his head. He worried for his sister at school, worried about how the Carrow twins would be treating all the students and the few younger friends he left: Draco, Neville, and Dean. His lack of control and discomposure left him a bit useless for tactical missions against Voldemort's forces, and felt that he would better be suited as Mrs. Weasley's "personal body guard". He sat with her for months and took on the strenuous chores as a workout routine to keep himself fit.

This would prove to be an advantage as Arthur, Remus, Tonks, and the Weasley twins apparated to the Burrow on the memorable night of May 1st, 1998. A serious but frantic expression outlined each of their faces as they hurried towards the door of the home. Benjamin had the door open for the rushing group. They had explained how Harry, Hermione, and Ronald had infiltrated Gringotts earlier that morning, had potentially stolen one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. They informed Benjamin and Molly that word had circled of Voldemort's plans to invade the school that night, as he assumed that was where Harry would be heading, and that all were in danger.

The time had come.

Benjamin wasted no time prepping to come to the aid of his younger sister and his friends. He sent an owl to his parents and apparated alongside the members of the Order to collect the rest before arriving at the school that night.

The beep of the microwave startled Benjamin out of his trip down memory lane. He tore the plastic off the top of the container and dropped it onto the kitchen table, ignoring the few splatters from impact.

Before touching his food, his eyes darted into the living room where the heavily-used punching bag hung from the ceiling. He continued to eye it as he ate his mediocre meal. The tension seemed to rise with each tick of the clock, so he picked his food tray up and carried it over towards the bag. Obvious dust had started collecting on the bag and the faded black gloves that hung on a nail beside it.

He threw a few slow, faux punched towards the bag, never actually touching it with his knuckles. He was a fighter. He was better now, and there was no reason to let his intrusive thoughts ruin the good progress he has made.

Still, he could barely shake that feeling that something was missing. He ventured upstairs to his bedroom loft where a small wooden desk sat. Benjamin pulled a jar of ink and a quill from the drawer and began a letter to his parents.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I think I'm gonna take you up on that offer. I hate to say it but I think I need to step away from the shop and take some time for myself. I'm thinking, you guys want me to settle down so bad, maybe I should take this time to enjoy life while I can do it just me, y'know? I'll keep in touch more, don't worry.

Love,

Ben

He sealed it up but left it on the desk as he turned and looked down from the loft into the living room. His eyes glazed over as he stared intently at the punching bag again.

He shook his head to himself, and proceeded to change his clothes into more public attire: a black Death Cab For Cutie t-shirt, rugged black jeans, black riding boots, his signature black leather jacket, and the dark aviators to cover his eyes. He slipped a silver chain over his head and around his neck, a small, shiny skull hung from the chain. He placed a few rings on his fingers and a leather, spiked cuff around his left wrist. He stuck the envelope in the inside picket of his jacket before bounding down the stairs with enthusiasm.

Ben stopped at the mirror by the front door to check and tousle his messy, black hair. In the key bowl was a silver dangle earring with a red and turquoise bead stacked on each other, a silver feather at the bottom. The missing touch, he thought to himself as he placed the earring in his right ear. He grabbed the keys to his motorcycle from the bowl and headed out the door.