Hi All,
Still struggling with my new schedule, but I'm trying... Please share your thoughts!
HP and all you recognize belong to Rowling, of course.
Oh, and I promise the two plotlines (the murder and the original with Hogwarts and Severus) will eventually collide... I'm trying to show the background struggles and fights in the wizarding word before and after the Dark Lord's return.
TN_Chapter 19.
18th December 1993 - 2nd January – 1994
(16)
Annabella's bracelet shone up about half past ten, and she examined it with a hint of surprise. There was a word scribbled on her wrist with black ink: Ebony. It recalled a memory… like a dream… about trees? Anne happily noticed that the disturbing lurch under her chest was easier to manage every time. She spread her senses around the room, but there was nothing unusual to pick up. Within a few minutes, she heard footsteps, then Madame Rosmerta escorted Duvessa into the room.
"Are you sure, Madame Travers? If you send an owl next time, I can reserve you the ensuite with bath and view on the meadows."
"But this room of yours is always free, Rosmerta, dear, and I will not stay long just to greet my niece in privacy. Merlin knows she would miss me this Christmas, but I doubt I could find the time… You will send her up, will you?"
Of course, Madame Rosmerta assured that she would, and Anne was sorely tempted to flip back to her maple woods before she did something silly in her fear. Balancing in her mind had never been this difficult, but Duvessa hardly spared a glance at the bed. She sat straight to the escritoire and scribbled up notes for a full ten minutes, then she stepped to the window and stared down at the street. She seemed tense. Anne stretched her senses toward her – and she picked up hurt. Deep hurt, resentfulness even, and fear. Enough fear for someone to do something mad.
Anabella grabbed the reins without much discussing it with herself or anyone. Being afraid of another who feared was tedious and ridiculous. That's something she should use instead of freaking out by it. The other thing she could turn to her benefit was Duvessa's notes. If she could only find a way to get to them…
Hearing a short knock, Duvessa Travers turned to the door with one hasty motion, and for a flick of Anabella's wand, this was enough for the notes to slip to the floor. The door opened, and Anne's few-hours-older-self greeted her aunt with seemingly heartfelt joy, while her other-self raised her wand under the bed, trying not to lament Time's nature. She had never understood more profoundly why one wasn't supposed to meet herself when using a Time Turner: it was confusing, to say the least.
"Oh, Duvessa, I was so glad you wrote! How have you been?" – Anne hugged her aunt.
Geminio! Invito! – Annabella cast the spells behind them.
The two nonverbal spells from under the bed preceded Duvessa's wand move only by a second, and her aunt returned the strips of parchments on the escritoire.
"Splendidly!" – the older witch cheerfully lied. "Malmo is at its most charming in the autumn. Once you'll need to see it yourself, Annabella! The colours and the scenery in general are truly magnificent."
"I would be happy to see it!" – Anne smiled.
"Oh, I'm sure you would. I always say, especially when society demands you to spend all your days and evenings visiting your friends… well, family first. Albeit, you must forgive me if I had no patience to stay around and look after your worries. I thought better of it and left on a whim, not three hours after we spoke. Will you forgive your old Duvessa her bohemia? I'm sure you never mistook my words for a promise!"
Annabella's invisible jaw fell when Anne sat on the corner of the bed as she replied: "You don't need to worry. My father forbade me to testify at all. Whatever had misled him, he was never prepared to watch his kin before the Wizengamot."
"So you wish for the harder way," – Duvessa settled across her. "We can talk, my dear, like adults, then. But I'm warning you-"
"Aunt, please! I don't accuse you. In fact, I'm certain that my father is wrong about his dark presumptions. I guess this is what bothered you…. It would have bothered me… I'm so sorry about the family being so suspicious and unreasonable. But I thought you and I had an understanding. Isn't that the reason why you wished to see me?"
Anabella wished she could see Duvessa's face to ascertain her feelings, but to move was out of the question. Led by instinct, she read the word scribbled on her wrist, and Anne's senses filled with the nauseating dread and vengeance in the room. There also were sparks of hope and self-assurance. She needed a moment to sort which feeling belonged to whom.
"I admit that Montgomery's ways are hurtful," – Duvessa softly said. "Your grandmother would be proud of you, my dear. Despite your unlucky origins, you might prove a true Rosier. Is your brother well?"
"Caleb recovered as far as I know. Of course, I haven't been able to see him since he left St. Mungo's. He would be happy to hear about your sympathy."
"Oh, what a mess!" – her aunt sighed. "You know, I was unsure if I could trust you as I'd have liked to, but blood is thicker than water. Is your father adamant you shouldn't clear my name?"
"Even if he is, a witch like you must have a way around people I cannot understand yet," – Anne blatantly tried to flatter her. "With my brothers out of the way in the Ministry, I was hoping that whomever we disturbed would be content with the results. And I have the impression that the boy who replaced him would be easier to convince than Caleb."
"Is that so?" Duvessa's sparks of hope multiplied, and she calmed a tad. Anne watched her hand from under the bed as it placed her wand on the parchments beside her and leaned back on her seat. "I appreciate your loyalty, my girl. You see, I haven't had a close friend since your uncle… I loved Evan."
"I remember him," – Anne tactfully said when her aunt choked on her emotions.
"You do?"
"Only pictures and some moments… it's a bit incoherent, but I do recall he used to come. And once or twice, he brought a gift."
"Oh, that is him! Always the charmer! See, there wasn't much difference between the age of your father and Mordred, and Evan was the youngest. I doted on him, and he never disappointed. Mordred was a strong boy, the loner type, headstrong. He was ready to lead the family, so no one bothered about your father. Our parents left him to his various readings and entertainment. He was spoilt, and it shows. But when Evan was born, Monty should have grown up a little. I'm unsure if he ever did.
"Evan was like a summer storm. Always on the right, ready to prove himself, to be the fastest, most praised, and favourite! And we all gathered around him and clapped for his achievements. My mother, our old grandmother, and I were the first in his court. I wasn't surprised when the Dark Lord recognized his talent, but maybe we shouldn't reminisce about that. Your father shoved all duty to the corner and tried to break with the family, but the world just doesn't operate that way!
"Mordred was the first I lost. I would still give anything to know what happened to him! Then Monty turned his back on us instead of stepping into his brother's shoes! It must be hard to hear this, Annabella, but somebody must tell you about those times. You are loyal like your great-grandmother always demanded of us. You're her blood. She used to say a loyal witch was the foundation upon which to build families and kingdoms. I follow her advice. That's why I have never given up on your father. Are your brothers cut of the same cloth?"
Both selves of Anne sensed the danger, and she tried to phrase her answer to their future benefit.
"I think Gavin is a man of science. He's never cared for politics and only wishes to deal with beasts like Scamander," – she managed to add some lightness to her voice. "Caleb was deeply shaken. Merlin, I was shaken, aunt. He almost died! And for what? A young man having some fun with colleagues should not call for an assassin!"
Duvessa glanced at her notes before she slowly looked over Anne.
"As a matter of fact, I believe I worked out this knot, my girl. This takes us back to dear Evan's Hogwarts years and the times that shortly followed them. That half-blood hussy thrust herself onto him and kept him in her clutches for years. Monty finally had sense enough to listen and open your house, so the family's place was secured in every storm. Believe me, at the time, no one would have guessed the Dark Lord would vanish. But it happened, and your father didn't listen to me anymore. He failed to punish that upstart and his negligence now bit him in the arse.
"The Macmillans and the Travers families provided him with a chance to restore his reputation, and some began to talk about a new Minister to many old families' liking, but not all. Those traitors who wormed their way out of punishment, denying everything their families had stood for, would prefer someone like this scallywag Cornelius, for it's easier to wind him around their finger. Can you understand my meaning, Annabella?"
"You mean Mr. Malfoy," – she slowly surmised. Under the bed, she was astonished at how sure she sounded. Then she realized she had already heard herself talk… it was too confusing. No wonder she wasn't supposed to meet herself!
"He's not the only one," – Duvessa carried on. "I told you about the old times, girl, now understand me! The Dark Lord was gone at the height of his power. From one day to another, he just vanished! Those with the good sense to survive his fall remember more than what is healthy. Family interests, business, and alliances had always been at work behind the scenes and wouldn't just vanish with a wizard, however great. Your brother didn't understand this. He didn't take to the honey, so he faced the cane.
"But you have the good sense to seek an alliance, and I happen to have used this last decade well. I have all the letters dear Evan wrote, and I collected proof enough to send his harlot to the Dementors for the rest of her life. I told her as much after we talked. The devil would have thought she wouldn't survive that day! It took time to find out who sent her that poisoned lunch and even more to figure out why she decided to take it. But Malfoy had always been a master of coercion, and I remember his friendship with Hogwarts' Poisoneer."
Anne's breath hitched under the bed, and she hoped her other self wouldn't show surprise or astonishment.
"Do you have proof about Professor Snape's part in this?"
Duvessa stomped a foot in her frustration. "Eh, of course not! That swindler has never been that easy to catch, and that's not important now. I only need to remind some of my older acquaintances that a Rosier or a Travers is still not their chump to play. But by all means, you should enjoy Christmas now!" – she changed the subject fluently. "Are you spending the holidays in Farflang, or does your father have any special plans?"
Anne admitted to her absolute lack of knowledge about what her winter hols would throw at her way, and after some chatting, Duvessa asked her to keep an eye on her Potions Professor. Her older self under the bed thought she was doing that already, sitting in all his lessons and occasionally seeing him at the Infirmary, so she wasn't surprised when she heard herself telling her aunt that she would be before they finally said their friendly goodbyes.
Duvessa sat back to the escritoire and hid her face in her palms. After some moments and a deep sigh, she ordered a fire whisky from the thin air around her, which appeared by her hand.
"She might know more than she thinks she does, but at least she's one of us," – she told herself, chuckled bitterly, and downed her drink.
Next, she asked for owls, and Annabella began to lose patience under the bed. She still needed to live through this discussion from a different point of view, and she was unconvinced about Duvessa's innocence. What made her – or would make her before she returns here – believe her? She couldn't wait to find out. Or perhaps this was only a stratagem she developed sometime between her present and near future?
After sending the owls, Duvessa finally left the Three Broomsticks, but Anabella waited another quarter of an hour before she invisibly tiptoed down the stairs. The pub was packed by then, and she saw herself chatting with Miranda while Milan waved at them from the bar, gathering their butterbeers. She kept herself unseen and walked to the street behind the pub.
She turned back time without lifting her Disillusionment and only pulled out the Geminio-ed parchments from her pocket when she was safely back in the morning. The first one didn't explain much:
Mr. Polver,
With the information you provided, I consider your debt settled and the peace between us restored. Please don't try to contact me again. D. T.
She tried to figure out what this might have meant. Duvessa had mentioned her connections and Mr. Malfoy, the master of coercion. She'd suggested that he'd made Lucinda take the poison that caused her death. Anne didn't believe Snape had taken part in the scheme. At least she vividly remembered how much he despised Malfoy the day Dumbledore was sacked last year. She also remembered Mr. Filch. He all but changed gear when she had mentioned Scabior, yet Duvessa didn't seem to know about that part at all… or was that the cane she had mentioned? Was that information she had needed from this Polver? That would have meant Duvessa believed old Malfoy and the boss of that Scabior co-acted against her brother.
She opened the second parchment.
Totie,
I have proof. If you cannot muzzle your good-for-nothing brother, I will be forced to take steps. Wilkes may serve whomever he wants to, but pushing the blame is unhealthy. The fact I haven't killed a soul doesn't mean I cannot use a cauldron. Provide a scapegoat that fits your needs, but if you dream about putting me up for this, I will not be shy to talk to my heart's content.
You know very well who I am. Times don't change.
Annabella stared at the lines with genuine bewilderment. It was much more than what she was ready to stomach, and her inner world flipped back to the better understanding side.
Anne spent moments trying to imagine the fright such a letter would cause her. She was shocked enough without being the recipient. Zap! Wilkes. She knew she had heard this name… Filch believed him to be Scabior's boss. Who could Totie be? She had no idea. But at least it was plain to see that Duvessa wasn't the one who killed that witch, and she genuinely strived to clear her name. What could she know to be so threatening to such people?
She cast a hasty Tempus and realized she was almost late already. Thankfully, Duvessa would be staring out on the street from the window. She walked into the Three Broomsticks and asked Madame Rosmerta to let her up to her aunt.
The rest of the day was a blur tangled between variations of her selves, timelines, and her mind. Snape might have found her turning her abilities and defences on and off funny, but Anne was yet to get the joke. She could sense she confused Sophie and decided to spend as much time alone as she could before she made another mistake like Filch's salve. At least the sergeant was happy to receive her gift.
"Now, lass, this is something new. Even if you never get around to concocting such a mix, it's thoughtful that you tried. Here," – he reached into a cabinet and fished out a small box. It was soft under her touch, covered with purple velvet, and ominously resembled something for jewellery.
"Mr. Filch–"
"Whatever it is you would say, I'd rather you kept it to yourself," – the old man warned her. "If that makes you feel better, you may know I didn't buy it."
Anne carefully lifted the lid and found a silver hairpin. It formed a feather, and tiny crystals and emerald scrapes shone on it as if someone had only sprinkled them on the surface.
"Beautiful!" – she breathed.
"The last one to wear it believed the same," – Mr. Filch told her with a rare hint of a sad smile. "She was my sister. It took long enough to find someone to dust it off, but" – the old man shrugged, almost shyly, then reached out and closed the box into Anne's hand. "You seemed old enough to appreciate it. Will you do me the favour to have it? Safekeeping such bauble is not my forte, lass."
Anne lifted her gaze slowly and tactfully asked: "What was her name?"
"Lauren," – Filched said with simple practicality. "She contracted dragon pox and died a year before finishing Hogwarts. It would have been better for all involved if it was me. Yet even though I went to war, I was the one to survive."
"I'm happy you did, sergeant," – Anne told him, feeling lame and inarticulate, but the old man still nodded.
"And so you are the one to have it. Merry Christmas, lass."
The warmth she felt that moment was comforting enough even the next day, keeping Anne from giving in to anxiousness and helping with her balance. She explained to Sophie and Miranda how she was to buy a rare gift for their mother with her brothers and why it should be kept secret, not to spoil the surprise. They agreed to assist her, and she boarded the train with her classmates, chose her friends' compartment, and let them giggle while she Disillusioned herself and sneaked off to hide behind the station.
A moment before eleven, her brothers appeared next to her, and using the noise of the departing Hogwarts Express, they Apparated her to London.
Anne looked around with wide-eyed disbelief. "Didn't you say we weren't supposed to contact any of our relatives?" She couldn't recognize the district, but it was impossible to mix up the town.
Gavin grimaced, and his shy anticipation hit her as much as Caleb's mischievous glee.
"We aren't," – Gavin looked at a building on the other side of the street. "Erm… you do remember Kelly's dad got a job in Town, yes?"
Anne nodded.
"Let's do this inside," – Caleb interrupted, and the boys led her to a glass door between a café and a fake Thai restaurant.
They made her climb the stairs from a spacious entrance hall to the second floor, where four identical doors lined the two sides of the landing. It was lit by enormous glass windows and sparkling white walls. She was almost gawking, having never known the inside of a new-built Muggle house. It seemed fashionable and expensive and wholly alien to the Hogsmeade she'd left less than five minutes ago.
Gavin produced a set of keys, with a puffy cartoon character, a bunch of plastic daisies and a die-cast rainbow dangling from the ring and opened the door to a two-bedroom flat with a tiny balcony holding out above the Thai place and a living room that wasn't separated from the kitchen.
"Kelly will be home in about three hours, so we need to go over the shady stuff by then," – Gavin instructed, showing them around. "Mr. Smith doesn't mind if we hang around here, and Aida said you're welcome to her apple pie."
"Aida?" – Anne was astonished. "When have you gotten this chummy with Kelly's mum?"
"She's still Mrs. Smith for me," – Caleb quickly pointed out, mocking his brother with a tongue in cheek.
"I happen to be a good boyfriend. You will learn how to do that someday," – Gavin patted Caleb smugly on the shoulder, which he pulled away swiftly to try to smack the back of Gavin's neck. In vain, because he was way too quick and ducked. "See, violence is immature, that's your first lesson!" – Gavin laughed. "If you learn to behave, I might tell you about the rest!"
"Yeah, birds and bees," – Caleb replied and chased Gavin through the living room, only stopped by the fridge's door, which his brother opened in his face.
"Better: bacon and beans," – Gavin comfortably pulled out at least three different plastic containers and a loaf of sliced bread and began to make the most appetizing sarnie Anne had ever seen outside of Hogwarts.
"Can you just do that?" – she stared at her brother. "Like… at home?"
Gavin smiled around the bite and answered with his mouth full already: "Thish ish home," – he swallowed – "that's what we're tryin' ta tell ya."
Caleb was busy putting together all that looked delicious. Anne thought everything looked delicious. She gulped, only watching.
"Want some?" – her brother asked. She eagerly nodded and dived into it while Gavin pulled himself up and sat on the pristine counter to finish his sandwich.
Anne didn't stop to ask, "But how?"
"So," - Caleb began between bites - "it's quite sad if you think about it, but it seems we are homeless…. I mean, Father is ready to have you, and I haven't yet decided, but Gavin has already sent him to hell. And Mum lives in Gran's room since she's in the hospital. At least she would if she -"
"What are you babbling on? I'm losing the plot here!" – Anne cried out, out of patience, but Gavin only nodded to Caleb and said with a grimace:
"Yeah, well, Rachel doubts Gran will ever get out. Not this time, as it looks."
The spoon would have stopped in Anne's hand even if he'd told all that more tactfully. She tried to replace it with the mustard jar, but she missed it and made a mess.
"Don't freak out. We're not at the half of it," – Gavin suggested wiping the counter. Seeing him so tidy would have been funny under any other circumstances, but already went on:
"So Mum wanted to go and see her, being her mother and all, it seemed reasonable, but not for Father. He's gone off his rocker and shouted about things like them being a bad influence on us all, teaching us to disobey and planting ideas… It all came off as if he said no danger would lurk in the shadows if we avoided the Muggles. And he mentioned you especially."
Anne was stunned. She couldn't deal with that madness, but one particular part of the tale bothered her more than the rest. "Gran fell ill again-"
"Yeah, we weren't supposed to tell you, and after Mum read him the riot act, she couldn't send owls either," – Caleb explained.
"What about regular posts? Kelly had no problem writing to Hogsmeade!"
"A-bee, don't freak out, but I doubt she thought about you much," – Gavin's tone radiated his unease. "It's not you or us, it's… well, you know how much she loved cheek fume… turns out father dearest is more competent with those brews than any of us would have given him credit for."
"Yeah, you could ask Snapey for antidotes or just let her be for a while," – Caleb gravely agreed to whatever Gavin implied.
Anne's head was spinning, and the balance inside her had never been more challenging to maintain. But she needed to be herself. She needed to access her brothers' emotions. Those were the only things that tempered the blow. At least they felt sad and confused, even if their words seemed harsh and cold.
"You might wanna sit down," – Caleb suggested, noticing her paleness.
"I don't want to sit down!" – she finally cried out. "I want details! What happened to Gran? And Rachel? And is Mum all right?"
"Well, that depends," – Caleb shrugged, but Gavin took pity on her and explained:
"Mum doesn't really feel all right, A-bee. She was on Father's brews for almost fifteen years, you see. No one gave a damn, but now that she doesn't have them… well, she had a spectacular meltdown, and Rachel put her in a Muggle place for addicts. When we suggested buying her antidotes, Rachel yelled at Caleb and sent us away."
"I can put together an Antidote for Common Poisons. The Muggles can't have a way to counteract a magical brew!" – Anne gabbled in mounting fright. Her only solace was her brothers being so chill about the matter.
"They are treating symptoms," – Caleb explained. "And she's better. I've seen her in the morning. We can visit, but she doesn't want to see you or Gavin and is still determined to leave Father for good."
"Gran's being unwell shook her more than anyone would have thought," – Gavin added. "I don't know what Father'd been telling her, but this time, she opened Rachel's letter and flew off the hinge. She packed up and demanded to be taken to the Muggles, but Father forbade it in that shouting match. So… I kind of resigned the family name and took her," – he finished shyly.
"Gavin here is excommunicated and disowned," – Caleb announced with surprising chill and copious amounts of pride at his little brother, which kept waving around them in the kitchen, shocking Anne.
"No! But what will you do?"
"Nothing," – Gavin laughed. "Mr. Smith says I should be working towards a good living. He took to my being a wizard quite good, eventually. Have you known that many Muggles gossip about such things in the village? His parents are still living there, and they helped me and mum. Kelly doesn't know because Mr. Smith asked me to be decent about it as long as she finishes school, and I agreed. Then, I will or won't tell her whatever we would be up to. And until… well, they kind of took me in."
"We rented a rathole above Everard's Venoms in Knockturn," Caleb said. "Father doesn't know, but Gavin can go live there if he must. And Mrs. Smith would feed him. Of course," – he hesitated – "this also means I will be slower to pay back your money."
Anne waved that off, but she objected to the Knockturn. "That place is dangerous! Surely Rachel could–"
"She couldn't," – Caleb shook his head. "Listen, A-bee, she's ninety-one already, and she's a Muggle. She doesn't have long, no matter what we would wish for. Now, her little sis is dying, and her niece is an addict. The last thing she needs is more family troubles. And the Smiths were game."
"Also, Evererd's is on the north side of Knockturn, which is far less horrible than the slum," – Gavin added.
Anne leaned onto the counter with her uneaten sandwich desolately dangling in her hand. "I need to see Rachel, and I'd like to visit Gran," – she sighed.
"Yeah, well, that won't be that easy," – Caleb deemed. "But we thought you would. That's why the abducting and all. Didn't you say something about a pie?" – He turned to his brother.
Gavin tidied the counter and put the containers back into the fridge before he pulled out the pie and set the table in the Muggle way. It was hilarious to watch but also heart-warming. He seemed at home and was happy… even if not about what they had to discuss. The funniest was when Gavin gave her a plate for the sandwich, saying that Aida wouldn't like the crumbs. Anne tried to take strength from his mood and was glad for the time to compose herself.
"So, when did you tell Kelly's dad that you were a wizard?" – she tried one of her million questions, choosing one that didn't make her wish to cry.
"After our esteemed father had sent me away," – Gavin replied airily. "You should have heard that rant, A-bee, it was hilarious-" he stopped for a second, then amended his words: "On second thought, it is better that you didn't…. Anyway, Mum was in stitches, and I was afraid to Apparate her. Using an illegal Portkey with such a high-standing member of the Wizengamot having it out against us didn't seem a terrific idea, so I took her to Kelly's grandparents, and they helped a lot.
"Mr. Smith came for us by car, and Mum lost it somewhere between Peterborough and Huntington. I tried to help, but I'm not good with mind charms at all… you can imagine Mr. Smith's reaction" – he pulled his mouth into a strange grimace. "It's funny how quickly someone can go from what are you doing with that ridiculous stick to mumbling prayers and denying the devil."
"Sweet Nimue!"
"Well, that's something I wouldn't say in front of them either," – Caleb snickered, savouring a piece of pie. "I tried a "Merlin!" once, and Mrs. Smith stared like I came straight from Bedlam, but then she decided it must be some film reference and told me I should read more!"
"Well, you should," – Anne raised her eyebrows. She remembered how hard it had been to prepare Caleb for his exams. "So what happened in the car?"
"Well, I… sorry, A-bee, but I knocked Mum out with a Stupefy. I know, I shouldn't have, but I knew no better," – Gavin seemed genuinely contrite. "Then I explained it all to Mr. Smith, and he got the basics by Ilford. The Ministry lets you talk about these things in a marriage, so I told him I was serious about Kelly, but she's so young. I want her to finish school without all the madness around her. By the way, it's all true, too. I wouldn't have told her father, but it happened, and he thought I was a responsible lad for thinking about Kelly's peace of mind."
"Breaking the Statue of Secrecy like a responsible lad," – Caleb mocked him, but Gavin only shrugged.
"Well, it worked, which is more than what you could achieve with Father. He stayed behind to try and placate him" – he looked back at his sister. "It didn't really work."
"What came over him to be such an arsehole?" – Anne stared at Caleb. "Mum should be free to visit her mum!"
"Ah, I don't think that's how they lived lately," – Caleb shook his head. "You do remember how Father's been ever since I got cursed. It only got worse after I changed jobs with Phil. Which was a marvellous idea, by the way, you may tell Filch if you want that I said that. Although I wouldn't advertise his involvement to Father, you see.
"The people at the Ministry were surprisingly game to organize our re-locations, and it all happened within a day. So Father had nothing to do about it, but he almost exploded that night at dinner when he heard. Mum was only sitting there like furniture. You should have seen her lately. She wasn't herself for months," – Caleb went on. "I'm sorry to make you worry. We tried to spare you the whole thing, but she kept having those brews and… when did you last receive a letter from her?"
Anne had to force herself to recall it… was it in the summer or last term? "It was long ago. You should have told me."
"A-bee, last time I told you something was amiss you dragged in Duvessa, disappeared for weeks, and eventually lent out a thousand and five hundred Galleons on your own," – Gavin reminded. "We thought you should rest before you solve the climate change and stitch the ozone hole."
"It wasn't like that," – Anne protested, but Caleb didn't let her:
"Actually, it was worse. D'you think I didn't hear about you saving my life? Father might think it nuts, and you're just a baby, but I know what I felt. You've been the one who'd been there for me. I felt you through all that shite, and there was nothing else to grab."
"Oh, Caleb," – she stood and hugged her brother, making him feel inadequate and ashamed for some reason she couldn't understand. "You know I love you guys, do you?"
"Yeah, don't get all sloppy," – Caleb patted her shoulder and hugged her. "We don't mind you either. Just try to get that this made us keep you out."
Anne could understand that even if she wished they told her more. "Okay," – she smiled. "So I gather you couldn't convince Father about Gavin being a good lad or about how Phil should be used instead of you?"
"Not at all," – Caleb shook his head. "He says we screwed up some big schemes he was supposed to work towards and that it all harmed the family somehow."
"Would be nice to know what that scheme was, though," – Gavin added, giving Anne a sudden thought:
"Well, could it be that Father was one of those who wanted a new Minister of Magic? If you were cursed by Wilkes and Scabior… and if they were indeed creeps like old Malfoy and our uncles, then it makes sense if it all happened to warn Father off. Because Malfoy wouldn't want a new Minister. And Father refused to talk to them even at your request, and he didn't pay off your debts either because none of us told him. Correct?"
"A-bee, where would you get these things?" – Gavin carefully asked in the dead silence, but his sister was too deep in thought to listen.
"I wonder who Totie is, but if she was supposed to have cared for her brother, she might be one of the creeps. Like someone in Wilkes' party or what… and our aunt knows them well.
"Probably better than Father because he missed the whole pre-game with courting Mum and all while Uncle Mortimer and Uncle Evan were busy playing it, just like Duvessa. Now it's Caleb's turn, or so they thought, but he doesn't have the uncles to support him, and Father is too weak and green to help…. At least, Duvessa seemed to think that. And if she's right about it, Father either shouldn't have set foot in the Wizengamot, or he must have made some terrible pacts."
"A-bee, I will regret asking, but how come you're so familiar with whatever our Aunt thinks about the matter?"
"Well, she… she just told me…" – Anne bit her lips, answering Caleb. "When I assured her that I didn't believe she was a killer, she became quite chatty, and she … she kind of thinks I'm worthy of our great grandmother's heritage?"
Of course, it unleashed all the devils and skeletons from various cupboards, but eventually, her brothers listened through her censored tale about Duvessa and her letters, and Gavin hid his face in his palms while Caleb was walking around between the living room and the kitchen. They were at least through with chastising her. There was not much they could say anyway without proving themselves moronically hypocritical.
Anne waited for Caleb to calm down, and Gavin let his hands fall to re-read the stolen letters.
"Hey, isn't this Polver, that guy who sorts the owl posts at the MLE? You know, the one with a thing for top hats?"
"Must be," – Caleb grumbled. "I still have no idea who that Totie could be… that's for Dorothy, right?"
Anne nodded, and Gavin offered to ask around, but Caleb shook his head. "I don't think you should," – he said. "Because I just realized… but you know it's funny in a way… but it doesn't really matter! God bless Argus Filch because I'm no longer there to worry about them. And Father cannot replace me without my consent. That man's a bloody genius!"
Anne grinned, but she kept her silence.
"A-bee's the genius for finding the right one to advise us," – Gavin lifted his head to say. "Really, Caleb, you have no idea how good it is to have someone on your team. I didn't know that until Mr. Smith accepted me as I am. He talks like an adult, and we never really had that."
"You're an adult too," – his brother reminded, but Gavin shook his head.
"That's different, and you know it. There should have been others."
"You're on my team, bro," – Caleb shrugged. "And Smarty Pants," – he added. "I'll be all right."
Anne's gaze slid to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, and she felt that this was her celebration. A moment in time, like back in the Hogwarts carriage, or when they had those butterbeers… because none of them were all right.
"And what about Father?" – she reluctantly asked. "Who's on his team?"
Gavin held up his palms. "Well, don't look at me. I'm officially out."
"If I take you home, A-bee, you won't see any of the Muggles," – Caleb warned her.
"Will you go home?" – she asked back.
Caleb grimaced. "I thought we should decide that together. Would hate to leave him alone though… sorry, Gavin."
"No, it's all right," – he began, but then Kelly arrived home, and his attention turned to her, just like Anne's.
She hadn't met her since she was a girl of maybe seven, and the girl in front of her now was as different from her dormmates and herself as anyone could get. Kelly was… ordinary, in a lack of a better word. She wasn't a mesmerizing beauty, but she was tall and fair-haired, with a dash of makeup on her clean cheeks and the scent of a sweet shop. She wore jeans and a tee that hardly covered her navel and earrings that were absurdly big and still somehow fun and playful. Anne tried not to stare when she kissed her brother without a qualm or joked with Caleb as if she was the one brought up with him. But before jealousy could take root, Kelly turned to her with attention and curiosity, and Anne could feel a hint of insecurity, too.
She was amazed to recognize this girl was anxious for her to like her, and it all told her about Kelly's affection for her brother. What else could make someone like this girl wish for the approval of someone like Anne? She felt like a duck with a swan swimming up to her. But the swan wanted to be friends, and Anne wasn't the kind of duckling to deny everyone else's wishes in the room.
Kelly was also practical about their family crisis. As soon as she learned about Anne's conflicted wishes to see her Gran and aunt and talk to her father, she proposed they visit the hospital and only decide after that.
"Even if you won't be allowed back after, you'd have seen them already," – she thought. "But you should change out of this school uniform, or people would look."
Anne glanced over her worn-out school robe and thought of the old long skirt and only band tee in her backpack. She'd left her trunk at Hogwarts and only took what she knew her father approved.
"I don't have much else to wear…."
Kelly excused themselves, led her to her room, and didn't give up making her try on different pairs of jeans when the first two were too small for Anne's more substantial backside.
"Hey, don't fret, this is more stretchy," – she forced her to try one more, and when it finally fit, she was delighted. "See? I was sure we'd find something. Though I'm not sure about the top. Jesus, I would kill to look like you! Do you have a boyfriend?"
Anne was so confused by the compliment she admitted to seeing Paul since the summer, and Kelly was unstoppable after that.
"We've got to get you to see him!" She dug through a pile of clothes and came up with a yellow tee with an enormous white daisy in the centre. It was only a little too short, but Kelly swore that was the best about it. "D'you also have that long coat I used to see on Gavin?"
"Yeah, that's also… erm, school-specific," – Anne drivelled.
"Rad, that fits you out!"
With a bit of combing of her hair and a hint of eyeshadow, because Anne refused to accept anything more, Kelly finally opened her bedroom door and reintroduced her to her brothers. Funnily enough, Caleb looked indeed as if that was needed. His mumbled words flew away because Kelly was already on the phone, asking for Paul's number.
"Not because it's a boy's name, but don't we have more pressing business to get done?" – Caleb asked with a dark scowl, and when he saw his sister's hesitation, he simply walked over to Kelly and gently eased the speaker back to its place.
She looked horrified. "Is this something your authoritative father would do? Did you learn this at home?" – the Muggle girl asked the surprised young wizard, who looked at his brother for help.
When Gavin only shrugged, Caleb took a deep breath.
"There are things you don't know about, and only one is how little our father has to do with common sense. It's still not amiss to observe that and get business done instead of wasting time."
He sounded so much like Filch or Snape would have, Anne almost cracked up despite her misgivings about missing Paul by a hair. Not Kelly.
"Jesus on a bike, mate, you sound like those gangsters on the telly! What kind of business is it to visit your grandma? Will you also say now things like "family business" and "we'll ask you a favour"?" – she broke down snickering, only seeing Gavin's grin and missing Caleb's incomprehension.
"There are such things," – Caleb reminded. "And I was yet to hear about anyone called Paul," – he looked at Anne.
When she pulled her neck shorter, Kelly ranted on, and only Gavin could hush her, proposing they all set off for the hospital. "You can berate him on the way," – he cheered his girlfriend, and to Anne's surprise, Kelly seemed ready to do just that indeed.
And she'd used to think she was progressive… obviously being a modern witch still counted as a weird Muggle.
The hospital visit was short because they arrived at the end of visiting hours. Rose smiled at them, but Anne wasn't convinced she recognized them, and although Rachel looked happy to see them, she also seemed too tired to put up with their presence for long. When Anne offered to stay with her and help out, she shook her head and only hugged her, whispering into her ear that there were things to face for each on their own.
Anne sensed her sorrow but also a strange strength that came from her self-respect and understood that Rachel took pride and consolation in facing the world on her own terms. She still counted as a child for her great-aunt, and she couldn't help someone who wasn't ready to accept it.
With a longing look after the hackney that took Rachel home, Anne sighed and asked Caleb to take her to face their father.
"You might be able to make him see some sense," – Gavin said his farewell, hugging his sister. "Merry Christmas, A-bee! And if something goes awry, just come back here to me!"
Caleb walked Anne to a narrow backstreet, and when they were out of sight, he Apparated her to the place they were both reluctant to call home.
The mood at dinner was grim, and neither felt ready to approach their father. Caleb only once mentioned seeing his brother, and Monty replied earnestly that he had no idea what he was talking about. His words hurt enough, but the dark emotions, the bitterness and the fear about him picked at Anne's senses like the Dementors. They were as thick as a brick wall, and she had never been the kind who pushed her way against her father.
She decided to give themselves time and resigned herself to a dark holiday. Caleb strangely refused to go out with his various childhood friends, or meeting with the local Muggles, since it might have been forbidden. Still, the following days saw them hanging around the house together, Anne doing her homework, and Caleb packing up Gavin's room or just watching the fire in the living room's hearth.
On Boxing Day, their father kept closing himself up into his study again, so Caleb dared to finally ask his sister about that name he'd heard mentioning in London.
"So a Paul, eh?"
When his sister acted as if she was temporarily deaf, he kept staring at her silently. That always broke Gavin. Soon, Anne looked up, too.
"Have you ever had a song stuck in your ears? You know, like a theme song for a part of your life or something that explained a different part of the plot, like in a film?" – she asked back, making Caleb squirm with discomfort on the sofa.
"If you're coming up with some twisted tale of romantic hogwash, I–"
"No," – Anne rolled her eyes. "I was about to mention Jefferson Airplane. You remember Mum's albums, don't you? She used to listen to music all the time."
Caleb leaned back with a sigh. "That was long ago."
"Yeah."
Anne didn't force it. She was sure it must have sounded all cheesy. Better finish her Transfiguration essay.
"So which song?" – Caleb asked after a few minutes.
"The one with that funny pink cover … When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies-"
"Some-body to Love?" – Caleb asked in a singsong voice. "Is that your solution?"
Anne shrugged, feeling shy. "I guess. Wouldn't it be nice, though?"
Caleb laughed up bitterly. "Not that I would know, would I?"
"Sorry."
Her brother waved her off. "So this Paul kid… does he make you feel like having a solution?"
Anne hesitated. Paul made her feel guilty and frustrated, mainly. She wished he made her feel as good as back in the summer. "No. I doubt that's supposed to come from another, don't you think?"
"Well, it works for Gavin," – Caleb offered.
"I'm not Gavin."
Anne returned to her essay and looked up another example of Cross-Species Switches she could describe.
"What would you have done if I asked you not to visit Gran or don't talk to Rachel?"
Anne let the quill fall on the parchment, leaving an ugly splotch. "Why the hell would you do that?!" – she cried. "I would have asked you to explain and be sure that I would have found fault in your reasoning."
"Okay, chill, I'm only asking," – her brother grinned. "What about if I told you to lose Filch for a while?"
"D'you believe it may harm him if I'm friends with him? I don't think people know that he was the one who made you change jobs with Phil. How would anyone guess that?"
"No, I don't think anyone knows… just a feeling… would you pause your dealings for a while?"
Anne stared at him with disbelief. "Because you have a feeling? Have you caught some Trelawney bugs, or what?"
Caleb suddenly lost the mocking grin and looked dead serious when he asked: "So how come you didn't even argue when I stopped Kelly from making you a date?"
A moment was lost only for the surprise, then Anne grabbed the inkwell because that was the closest, and threw it into her brother's face, screaming what he should do with himself like the rotten swine he was, then she ran out of the room. She almost managed to make it to the porch before she broke down crying.
What an utter worthless prick! Honestly! How dare he question her feelings? She signed her letters with love ever since Paul had the amazing idea to do that, and she loved it. She wanted to belong, and Paul was such a decent guy! Really decent! Not like the various heirs and stuck-up jerks in the House, but a caring, lovely puppy with plans down to Earth and a nature that would make once flowers bloom!
No wonder he worked with pets and strived to be a doctor! And he loved his sisters so much! And he loved his mum, who was so bloody normal. She made dinners, packed lunches, and sent kimchi to a girl she didn't know! Just because her son told her about her horrible eating habits! Because even his mother cared! Paul accepted the people, and he was gentle and patient and so fucking perfect she had no idea how or why he even looked at her!
After the first fit of nerves and histrionics calmed, Anne acknowledged that they didn't have much in common. Not more than having relatives they both wished to accept and a shared interest in Muggle science. But that was enough, wasn't it? They loved music, even if not the same kind, and they both had siblings… of course, one was a witch and the other a Muggle, even criticized by other Muggles because – well, stupid reasons… people are usually just generally pricks… And maybe she wasn't into prehistoric animals and meteorology. Still, she could appreciate a good film even if she doubted she would have gone to a cinema at all had Paul not been an enthusiast, but wasn't that normal? To change for somebody? To open up and listen?
Anne sank down on the threshold and let the cold from the porch swept through her, while some of the warmth from inside kept her from shivering. She thought she was thinking, but she was only chewing on one of her nails, trying to bite it as symmetrically as she could as if that was the most crucial thing in the whole world. If she couldn't even control her nails, what else remained? She wanted to be in love! She wanted Paul to love her because that would make her at least tangentially average, and it would be a shame not to love a perfect boy back!
What kind of a horrible person wouldn't love a boy like Paul if he loved her?!
She didn't notice when she began crying, only her face getting cold when the hot tears that soaked it cooled in the December air. Her nail tore in painfully, and it was now bleeding. She fucked up that, too… because she couldn't do anything remotely right.
When Caleb's voice first seeped through the hall from the living room, Anne hated to hear it because he was so obviously cruel and wrong! Then, her words began to combine into coherent thoughts, and her heart almost stopped.
"… don't you think it's a little late for that?"
A male voice grumbled back so low Anne couldn't make out the words.
"Well, because it was a bad bargain!" – she heard Caleb again. Then later: "Of course I criticize it! What have you been thinking? I'm not less of a Rosier than you are, didn't you think I would understand?!"
Caleb was arguing with their father, which surely meant he'd finally given up his voluntary exile to his study. What could have he wanted to anger Caleb so? All her previous misgivings forgotten, Anne silently closed the porch door and tiptoed closer to the living room. The nasty jumble of warring emotions that swirled inside halted her steps.
"Hogwash!" – Caleb cried out, reacting to low murmuring again. "You might live in the past, Father, but the war has been over for a dozen years! Whatever you –"
"I protected you all," – Monty's voice was more like moaning than arguing, but she finally understood the words. "You don't know what you are talking about! And don't tell me about my sister being innocent because I refuse to believe it!"
"Why? If someone questioned my sister, I would be her first advocate! Is that such a sin that you've been questioned?" Caleb spoke out of hurt and honour, failing to recognize his father was complaining. Anne understood them both. Monty was at the edge of old fear. Their discussion recalled:
"I was cited to be tried in front of the Wizengamot! You have no way to imagine what that would have meant!"
"You never told us about this," – Caleb finally reacted to their father's emotions. It made Monty comfortable, even chatty:
"OF COURSE I didn't! What use would I have had of the input of mere children and a Muggle?! But my dealings were questioned just as much as everybody else's when the war was over. I opened my house for my brothers' and my father's associates, but no one saw it that way! They wanted blood for blood, and heads falling! If your Uncle Mordred's family by marriage didn't come to my rescue –"
"I thought the Macmillans called this vile mess upon us!"
"Because times change! But there wasn't another I could rely on back then but exactly the same Haemophilus Macmillan, who needed the Malfoy money clean! So I served my keep by helping him, and in exchange, they hushed up my case like so many others!"
Anne felt the change in her brother's emotions. His empathy turned into calculating patience, and he asked on:
"I thought you weren't on Malfoy's side. Hell, they even cursed me just because you couldn't as much as agree to even meet him!"
"Do you have even an inkling about how good that man is with mind charms?!" – Monty cried out, his fears chasing each other in the air around him. "Would you have your father cursed just because you couldn't sit at the MLE being ready for future use?"
That had Caleb's anger and hurt take the better of him: "I always knew we were never more than tools in your pocket! And you call yourself a"
"ENOUGH!" – his father roared. "Haemo Macmillan saved our side of the family, not demanding more than our testimony about Lucius having been put under the Imperius. With my brothers in the grave or gone missing, what could I lose by helping them? It was a good arrangement and would still be good if it lasted longer, but your idiot aunt and her Travers relatives couldn't watch you and your brother joining Hogwarts! They suddenly remembered I wasn't the last Rosier any longer. It is you! And Haemo threatened to out me for my so-called war crimes if I sided with the Travers!" – Monty recited with hurt pride.
"What would you have me done? I accepted Dorothea's offer to help out her brother as an acting member of the Wizengamot, and Haemo was forced to make peace with Sloan Travers, who remained to lead the family as long as Torquil stayed imprisoned." – He went on. Still, Anne's ears stuck at the name. Could Dorothea be Totie?
"I hosted the celebrations so we all could be a big happy family!" – Monty spat with dripping sarcasm. "It's not my fault if your short-sighted mother couldn't see the benefit! It's none of my sins if Haemo can't agree with Lucius about the best name for a Minister, either! And it surely wasn't me who got you into St. Mungo's! It was your idiocy that couldn't have you make a stand and-"
"You were also not eager to defend me," – Caleb interrupted his father's tirade. His voice was surprisingly low compared to his heightened feelings. Anne could sense he had had enough. "You were not there when I was cursed, and you screwed up the whole family since I got out!"
"Your mother's idiocy and addictions are-"
"And who gave her those potions?!" – Caleb boomed.
Monty couldn't help but cower with fear, although Caleb had no wand on him and stood far enough away. Anne stared at his father, almost mesmerized by the realization how hurt and bullied he was.
"Now, I will not suffer you talking into my marriage!" – he tried to collect himself as much as he could. "A decent wife should know how to support her husband. Yet your mother has done nothing to that effect ever since the Travers and the Macmillans –"
"Are you bloody surprised? Father, you were the one to marry a Muggle! You should have known it would bear consequences!" – Caleb had no idea how ambivalent his statements sounded. Anne knew he meant well and was only out of patience, but could only imagine how much Kelly would have hated his words. "Have you forgotten what made you love her? Was she a burden to poison and erase from your life?"
"You don't use this tone with me, young man!" – Monty dismissed filial loyalty as disrespect. He soon regretted when Caleb suddenly broke and roared at him:
"YOU POISONED MY MOTHER! I will use whatever tone I see fit, Father, THAT IS MY BIRTHRIGHT! I AM THE LAST ROSIER, and I DEMAND RESPECT FOR THE ONE WHO BIRTHED ME AND TO HAVE MY BROTHER RESTORED!"
Monty faltered, swallowed, and shook his head in defeat. "Your brother has chosen a Muggle-"- he tried, but Caleb didn't have it:
"Just the same as you!"
For a minute, it seemed they reached a standoff. Anne carefully entered the room and was about to offer some consolation to either party or at least tea for both when her father raised his head with sudden hope:
"If I took your brother back, would you return to the MLE just like Haemo wished for you to serve there?"
Anne saw her brother's hesitation and sensed that his courage was faltering. He was too close to Gavin not to sacrifice himself for his sake. She also remembered with sudden clarity that Caleb's wand was already broken. Her brother's feelings about having nothing more to lose could well have their origins in his grief about that and a childhood promise he thought he failed to keep.
"No," – she stepped in front of her brother. "No, he wouldn't. Caleb will never return to the MLE."
A warm and tender gush of affection, then she heard her brother's voice: "A-bee, you don't need to be a part of this!"
It felt so good she almost missed her father's ire rising.
"Imbeciles and bloody traitors! That's what I brought up, not children! How dare you, Annabella! It is time you all learn your places! It might be too late for your brothers, but not yet for you!"
She watched as if in slow motion the way his father's wand swung upward and had no idea what stopped him from uttering the curse he chose… he just stopped mid-motion, turned away, and soon they heard the study door shut on his heels.
"Bloody knobhead," – Caleb murmured, and for Anne's greatest surprise, he offered her her own wand. "Sorry, it hung out of your pocket," – he shrugged when she didn't reach for it promptly.
"Would you have cursed him?" – she stared at her brother.
"Turned out I didn't need to," – he grimaced and seemed glad to see her pocketing her wand again. It was far not enough for Anne.
"Would he have cursed me?" – she asked her brother again, unsure if she wished to hear the truth.
Caleb probably felt the same. "Please don't make me think about that," – he asked her and retreated to a reading chair in the corner of the room. Anne understood his protective emotions as if he even explained them: he wouldn't leave her alone for a minute in this house. The problem was that she didn't wish to leave Caleb alone with their father either.