“Oh sure I’ll be doing that! I don’t want children at my doors, honestly. Those Scots are infesting the world with their traditions! But not my house, you bet! See you!”
The man waved over to his neighbour as they parted and stopped around a corner, where he lit himself a pipe. Puffing into the rather moist and cool air underneath the already darkening grey clouds, he gazed at the otherwise deserted crossing of alleys. In its middle, sat a boy with tousled black hair, appearing to be too concentrated on creating a masterpiece of chalk on the cobbles. No, he wouldn’t let any of those annoying children bang on the front door. But just as if some odds were in his favour, that particular boy spent too much time in places that weren’t good for a child of his age. Enough time for a little fun play, enough for getting the things rolling, before it would be too late and the boy safely locked away.
Straightening his coat and cap, he walked around, approaching the drawing boy from the front. Too taken by his work, he didn’t even look up; not until the man hunkered down on the other side of the drawing, puffing more smoke up to the similar coloured sky.
“That’s great, you know? What you’re drawing there.”
“Thank you, Sir.”, meant the boy, but resumed his business after only a quick glance up.
“What’s it? I think, that’s a nose there, right?”, he pointed at a part of the drawing. “Who are the people you’re drawing there?”
“Sometimes humans tend to misinterpret all sorts of art for something those were never meant to display.”
“Huh?”
“And this is no art at all, Sir. At least none you have on your mind. It is; as you might know if you weren’t bearing your grudges, and had cared for your education enough to take the subject of Ancient Runes; a sigil of Gaelic runes, meant to trap evil souls.”
“Aren’t you a little too young for such stuff?”, he chuckled. “And how come you know I’m a wizard?”
“I just know. You excuse me, please move a bit, so I can finish that part over there.”
“Why would someone like you, want to trap souls? Meaning to build an army or what?”, chuckled the man with a sneer. “You know what, I know a better place to draw something like that, or anything, for that matter. Here it’ll only get washed away by the next rain. And that’d be too sad, wouldn’t it?”
“No, thanks.”, the boy looked up to him, his grim eyes making the sneer freeze with uncertainty. “Lying exactly on a line that connects our graveyard to another seven ancient grand sepulchres all the way up to Scotland, this very south point seems just fine to stop them from travelling. I have drawn such circles between each over the course of the week. So if you would mind moving a little,”
The boy reached out with the chalk in hand, but, having no intentions to make way, the man caught his wrist firmly. Yet, the boy raised a brow and looked up at him again. That reaction confused him more than anything before. He had expected him to struggle, to say something, to beg him for letting go. Nothing. Only a stare as if meaning to force him to let go without physical action.
“Brazen like your father, aren’t you?”
“I merely don’t like the thought of walking alongside a molester,”
“What?”, smirked the man, slightly panicking. “Oh no, no. You got me wrong – I’d never harm a child – ”
“Sure not, that is also what you made the other twenty-nine believe, that died at hands of you and your brother, Death Eater. Or shall I call you Knight of Walpurgis? Isn’t that what you lot tend to call yourselves again these days? That controversial name that had been created without acknowledging the prefiguration’s origin? But well, no matter anyway. The Peverell Sisters are well informed on Tom Riddle’s life and scheming. Are you really that much in love with yourselves that you can gladly believe, you will be able to rebuild the regime? With the three after you? It doesn’t matter how many of you there are still left. You’re just not clever enough, considering your desired speed. You need more brains to get it going as quickly as you wish to have it, but as far as I take it, those brains are still getting splattered all over their owners’ walls at a constant pace.”
“Well, we’ll see what your father says if he receives the message of your demise.”, grinned the man.
“That’s likely.”, a satisfied smile of malignity laid itself upon the boy’s face when he felt the man pull in vain as his spinning did not work. “You say, I shouldn’t draw that? Achoo! Seems I’d just been successful! The demon got caught, even before the circle was finished!”
“What the – ”
“Anti-Disapparition Jinx. Right into your face, you bastard. And shields around us. Without your notice.”, the man’s head turned up, to find three hooded and masked figures in red velvet cloaks and robes appear from seemingly thin air, standing in a half circle behind the boy.
“Why don’t you take your filzy ’and off Albus and let eem finish ze circle, hmm?”, sneered the middle of the three, with French accent.
“I said it, didn’t I?”, Albus chuckled when the paralysed man let go and in a brief moment before he raised stumbling, Albus drew the last rune, standing up as well. “You don’t stand a chance. None of you. Oh and no, I’m not actually working together with them. I just hoped I could do them and the world a favour.”, he meant to lean back against Jeanne, but a firm hand stopped him by the shoulder, which he noticed to not be wearing the usual glove when he threw a sideglance.
“No, no, no. I wun’ go spreadin’ any DNA on tha ou’side o’ me robes ye’. ’Specially no’ yers.”
“Sorry.”
“No need ter apologise, me lil’ emerald. Go ’ome. Leave ’im ter us. An’ send sum’ special Hallowe’en greetin’s ter yer paren’s.”
“Right. I’ll do that.”, said Albus and walked off, but turned when Jeanne slipped the bare hand into a red Dragon-Hide glove then. “Er – you got some flowers for me? You know, for Grandma and – ”
“If it’s yer wish ter do it ’is year,”
“Certainly.”, Jeanne withdrew a wand and a big spray of white flowers floated towards the boy’s held out hands: thirty-five roses as well as lilies and some hyacinths. “Thanks.”, he smiled, barely able to hold the bunch. “Happy Hallowe’en.”, Albus added and stepped backwards, out of the enchantments and the four vanished from his view, leaving him appearing to be alone on the crossing with the runic circle. “Good luck.”
A weary sigh left him as he turned to go and made his way past the old houses, out of the narrow alley and into a broader street, which though wasn’t less abandoned. Some windows already hosted candles and carved pumpkins, but he was alone with the flowers. However, shortly before he reached the low wall around the graveyard, he spotted something that differed much from his grey surrounding, just like the pumpkins in the windows. A big ginger cat sat on the wall, as though having been waiting there for his arrival.
“Hey.”, he greeted and his greet was returned with a mew.
Following him, Crookshanks plodded over the wall, towards the kissing gate which opened on a quick wave of Albus’ hand, just enough for making it move without dropping the flowers. Walking on with the Half-Kneazle by his side, he passed rows and rows of stones, knowing all the names and corresponding dates by now and as he went around the church, he shortly halted. At the graves he meant to visit, already stood a man with slightly greasing but bouffant black hair, the weird standing tips resting on his shoulders. Knowing he had felt him coming, he smiled at his father who had turned for an equal smile, and then a frown at the flowers Albus brought towards him.
“Happy Hallowe’en.”, said Albus when he reached him and Crookshanks prodded his pansy face against Harry’s leg, but failed to draw his attention.
“Don’t say – ”
“I met them, yeah.”
“And they gave you the flowers, rather than coming here themselves?”
“They’re busy.”
“Busy? It’s barely sunset – ”
“Well, guess they met with an exception. And I asked them for a bunch.”
“Alright,”, chuckled Harry and began to sort and place down the flowers. “Happy Hallowe’en, Albus.”, he sighed when they straightened and his son finally lifted the still begging Crookshanks onto his arms and leant against Harry, who laid his right arm around him. “Isn’t he too heavy?”
“I’m heavier.”
“Sure. But don’t overdo it. The roofs are exceptionally slippery in autumn.”
“Dad,”, warned the boy.
“Yes, I know you can cushion your fall. Still you should be careful.”, he rested his cheek on Albus’ hair. “I don’t want to lose you to any idiocy.”
“You won’t. If I’ll give my life, then for something reasonable.”
“Thank you.”, Harry sighed. “I wish James would be the same.”
“Then he wouldn’t be James.”
“That’s right. I wonder what he does now.”
“I bet he’s been scaring the girls all day long and won’t stop until dawn.”
“Quite likely.”, chuckled Harry.
“Idiot. That’d make him miss classes.”
“Knowing him, I don’t think he minds missing the one or other,”
“As if it was something horrible to do, learning from elder people.”, grunted Albus. “I’ll take any possible class, I swear.”
“Don’t swear what you – ”
“And if I will? You know I will. Grandma found an equal to do it without a Time Turner. Why don’t you think, I will too?”
“I hope you will. I kept ignoring Hermione when she told us to study more. I had too much going on in my private life so as to concentrate on developing my skills. There is still so much I would like to learn.”
“Honestly? You’re still great at flying, can as well do it without a broom and even wand, can climb houses, perform all sorts of advanced magic without moving a single finger, you play piano incredibly well, can become invisible on your own, speak Scottish Gaelic, Russian and French fluently, are highly skilled at Legilimency and Occlumency, you’re Head of the Auror Office and the best Dad in the world. That’s pretty amazing for someone who dropped out of school without having put much effort into his educational development,”
“Sweet of you. Still I can’t sing.”
“Who cares? I can.”
“I wonder whether it’s my grandfather’s fault. I have no idea whether he could sing.”
“You mean Grandpa Tobias?”
“Yes.”
“I bet you anything he couldn’t.”, Albus chuckled and Harry couldn’t avoid joining in. “Or it’s your Grandma.”
“No, that’s unlikely.”
“You’re sure?”
“Er – not exactly sure, but – ”
“Then don’t accuse her of such talents.”
“Tz.”
“Why’s Mum not here, by the way?”
“She’s carving turnips with Lily while preparing dinner.”
“Oh no – you’re not going to the reunion concert of the Hobgoblins?”
“What? No!”, laughed Harry. “It’s the lanterns.”
“Thank you.”, the boy sighed. “I had my costume prepared all year, you know. Cost me quite a sum of pocket money. Well, that’s probably been the biggest task on it.”
“You spent your pocket money on a Hallowe’en costume?, Harry eyed his black head.”
“I might be wearing parts of it again on occasions. It’s not that outrageous. But it wasn’t cheap either.”
“So that’s why I never got to see what you did with your pocket money?”
“If you go down the street, you’ll probably still find a part of it. I bought some permanent chalk with the last.”
“Chalk? You mean, you’ve been drawing in the streets?”
“I’ve drawn a number of runic circles to catch and ban evil souls.”
“Er – and that works?”, Harry eyed his son’s head from above.
“At least in one case it did. That’s how I got to request the flowers.”
“So I guess, I should just wait for another folder before I ask for further details?”
“Guess so too. Let’s go home. It’s getting dark. Would be too bad if we missed supper for standing by graves.”
“It’s Hallowe’en. I think she could forgive us.”
“But my stomach won’t.”
~~#~~
“You didn’t tell me they’d come over,”
“Didn’t I? Strange. I thought I did.”, he pondered, scratching his neck.
“Well, never mind.”, Harry sighed at the two boys who were dressed up as quite convincing Zombies, crawling around on the floor of the sitting room that melted with the kitchen and he gave his wife a little kiss before she returned to devote to the dishes. “But they seem to have fun with James’ old toys.”
“Rather fun with destroying them. I already had to repair the wheeled dog. Déjà vu. Though I think they just do it to see me doing magic.”
“Where’s – ”, from above, the sound of the lavatory flush could be heard. “Question answered.”, smirked Harry.
“I hope he washes his hands.”, mumbled Lily, guarding a number of carved turnips by the fridge and halfway through becoming a classic Muggle portrayal of a Vampire girl mixed with a Banshee, her red hair straightened and extended magically to almost reach the tiled floor.
“I just didn’t hear that, okay?”, warned her father when his cousin came stomping downstairs and Crookshanks slightly struggled in Albus’ arms.
“No, I won’t let you go at him.”, the boy hissed to the furry ginger. “He’s really not as bad as being worth an attack.”
“Hi!”, Harry’s former indifference was now swept away as he closed up with Dudley and the boxer pulled him into a very unexpectedly tight embrace that made Ginevra falter, Albus snicker and Lily distort her features. “Whow – that’sh– yeah. Nishe ta shee ye too – ”, he mumbled as he was squeezed a little, but not so much that it hurt and if he thought about it, Hagrid had a firmer grip and he patted his cousin’s back, whereupon Dudley let go with a big grin. “I see,”, Harry readjusted his jaw, “You’re doing well?”
“Quite. Sorry if I was a bit rough, won a tournament two days ago.”
“Hey! Congrats!”
“Thanks.”
“And your wifey?”
“Work.”
“Sure.”
“So I got the kids. But I don’t mind. Well, as long as you’re not – ”
“Oh, no, no, no. I don’t mind having them here. Well, as long as they’re not demolishing the neighbourhood.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll take care of them.”
“Course you will, Al.”, sighed Ginevra. “I’m nearly done, by the way. Anyone in for helping me setting the table?”
She hadn’t quite finished her question when she was forced to jump away, a squeal escaping her. Both Harry and Albus had had the same idea and so twice as many plates, glasses, forks, knives and spoons soared out of the cupboards and cutlery drawer, coming to halt floating a few inches above the tabletop, though otherwise not a thou differing in position.
“Good gracious!”, Ginevra yelled that the rest of the dishes in the cupboards chinked.
“Oops,”, smirked Albus. “What’s yours?”
“You won.”, laughed his father, slightly embarrassed, but highly amused by another shriek of Ginevra when the things sorted themselves back in and Albus sat down his amount.
“You’re really beyond help,”, grunted Ginevra. “But thanks. Though I’m warning you, a single wink at the food and I throw you out. Both of you.”
“Keep your mother at bay, will you, Ginevra?”, Harry curled his lips, trying to swallow down more laughs.
“Can I help you, Mum?”, meant Lily.
“Okay, if you like to,”
“Absolutely! But only if you really make my teeth sharp then.”
“I told you, no. And I already bought fake teeth. I can alter them to fit you and add some fake blood, but that’s that. You’re a nine-year-old girl, remember that.”
“But tonight I’ll be a Vampshee.”, she said definite, carried over a bowl with rice and went for vegetables.
“Tz. Vampshee. Luna definitely has a bad influence on you.”
“Vampshee? What’s that anyway?”, Dudley asked and sat down; as if on command, his sons jumped up and joined him at the table.
“Whow!”, Harry gasped. “Didn’t know you educated your children like – er – that!”
“Surprise, eh? But I guess, they were drawn by the meat.”, all of them laughed brightly along. “So what’s a Vampshee?”
“A blood sucking Banshee.”, explained Lily when she hopped onto a chair on the other side of the rectangular table, “Argh! Oh crap!”, and had forgotten about the new length of her hair.
“Careful – ”, moaned her mother, adding the rest of the main course to the table, as well as two jars, one with pumpkin juice and one containing clear water. “Now.”, she took a deep breath once she and her husband sat at either head of the table and looked around. “What the – Lily?”, they all found the girl glaring at a drawer with very narrowed brows. “Is every–”
“Shush!”, she only hissed. “There is something in that drawer.”
“Yes. The napkins I forgot.”, Albus; now sitting between her end their father; meant languidly and flicked his hand, whereupon they soared towards them, but in the same second, with a mutual squeal of it and his sister, a little mouse hopped over the edge and onto the tiled floor.
“Oh no – ”, Ginevra moaned, but before the mouse could squeal another time, there was a whirl of orange and a faint cracking sound. “Crookshanks!”
He though only sat down, stared up at her with convincing innocence, eyes barely meeting due to the table, the thin tail dangling from his mouth. Not breaking their contact, he started chewing. They could clearly hear more bones cracking and the tail jumped with every move of his jaw.
“A ’gabhail tlachd agad min, Bláan.”, mumbled Albus.
“What?”, both his mother and Dudley gasped.
“Nothing.”
“Oh well.”, she sighed then. “Anyone in for a little prayer?”
“You insist on a prayer?”, chuckled Harry.
“Why not? Got to beat you once, right? And a mouse just died.”, Crookshanks actually slurped its tail.
“You tend to insist on prayers?”, asked Dudley. “Became religious, or what?”
“Not really, but it won’t kill anyone, will it? I mean, it’s not like I rewrote the Bible to justify mass murder – ”
“Yeah. Since half of us are already dead,”, Albus meant, “Cha bhithidh a leithid ami riamh.”, and pushed over a certain terrine with meat to the confused Dudley and his slightly chubby Zombies, only able to make his father laugh though.
“Al, I meant something each of us understands, not only the two of you. But you may keep it as short.”
“Dig in?”, the boy frowned but received only a huff.
“Slàinte mhòr agus a h-uile beannachd duibh.”, smirked Harry and helped himself to some rice and pumpkin-tomato sauce.
~~#~~
“Is that really necessary? Every single time?”
“We don’t want them to die from an infection, do we?”
“Infection? In such a short span? And anyway, they’re siblings! It’s practically the same blood!”
“We do our work, and clean up. If Abelarda wishes to clean her toys, let her. You forget, we are considered professionals. Eighteen and a half years later you just suddenly believe it nice to complain. How utterly lovely. Besides, you could still dwell in memories of Azkaban, if it satisfies you.”
“Keep your cynicism to yourself.”, Abelarda sighed, the now shiny silver knife reflecting the streetlamps and – bloodstains on the delicate mask. “Urgh. I think, I was a bit too eager on that lung.”
“You’re done?”
“You as well?”, frowned Jeanne behind the different, but equally stained mask.
“Oh shut it. I just want to get them over with and have dinner. You know it’s not healthy for me anymore to eat late at night.”
“Then stay up all night. ’T’s that simple.”
“Ladies!”, moaned Abelarda. “Instead of arguing, you could – ”
“What could we?”, growled Feng.
“Ah, for example, perpetuate the pudding and clean it up, huh? Before the children – ”, a giggling group hurried past their shield, not even paying attention to the drawn runic circle that was visible to them, “Start flying off the shields! Oh goodness are they adorable. I want some.”
“Well, that’s what I mean! I’m not complaining! I’m just not fond of what we did! We broke our own, goddamned rule! We got him out in the open! At nightfall! In the middle of the street!”
“Technically,”, Jeanne noted while taking photos, “It’s a crossing of alleys. What did you just say about wanting children?”
“And if it’s a friggin’ square! That’s – ”
“An askew rectangle,”
“With a runic circle, drawn by a ten-year-old.”, Abelarda giggled.
“That – ”
“With shiny white permanent chalk.”
“I’m warning you, stop giggling and get your stuff cleaned, or I’ll kick your arse out of here so you can look at that damn circle from a Muggle’s view!”
“What I say.”, smirked Abelarda. “Just what I say. A nicely water repellent runic circle of white chalk and a – uh, well, hint of blood.”
“On an askew crossing of alleys, yeah, I got it!”, Feng raged on.
“Sweetpotato.”, Abelarda gave a mock whimpering sigh. “Stop yelling or you’ll wake the crows.”
“They’re awake ALREADY!”, and indeed, a flock raised from a roof, protesting about the disturbing shout, but the only apart from the three and a couple of mice that fled from a pumpkin by a door, to have heard it.
“Honestly,”, moaned Jeanne, “How long does it really take you to clean those?”
“As long, as it does.”, sang the other.
“Which is?”, the corpse became a bone which crumbled under the next spell and vanished along with the blood and ashes of a burnt paper, to nothing.
“Not as long as dear Feng imagines it. And how often do I tell you, you should use something else? It’s a waste of chair!”
“If any, a waste of paper. It grows as trees, if that should have escaped your notice. And like what? Teaspoons? Cups?”, Jeanne continued moaning. “Tampons?”
“Tampons would be great.”, beamed Abelarda. “Wonderfully ironic.”
“Their production has a higher consumption of energy and resources than a nice stock of printing paper torn to confetti! Screw that ruddy irony, Bel! And for Heaven’s sake, get that blood off your mask!”
“Only if you get it off yours.”
~~#~~
Red liquid ran down over white maquillage, and from shrunken fake teeth, tasting like – strawberry, if consulting the tag. However, the girl was slightly disappointed to have identified it as raspberry. Pouting up to her mother, she at last accepted the latter’s defence of not being allowed to try such a product before purchase, while her father worked his skilled fingers on the provision, to make at least that taste like strawberry without being harmful for his daughter.
“Done.”
“Really?”, asked Lily.
“Yep,”, he tasted another drop, “That should do.”, and turned around, his mouth blood red.
“Oh no. Look at that. Daddy’s covered in blood. Why’s he so often covered in blood, Mum?”
“Because I’m Harry Potter.”, he grinned, revealing his teeth to be shiny red as well, finally charming a laugh on; not only; his daughter’s face – even the Zombies laughed a little. “And because it’s Hallowe’en. I’m officially allowed to be covered in blood. Scares the bad guys the most.”
“And the good ones.”, Ginevra sighed.
“I’ll be on the loo.”, giggled Lily and hopped off the chair.
“Send our greetings to Albus. We want to see him before the chime.”
“I’ll do that.”, smiling, she disappeared upstairs.
“What keeps him up there?”, wondered Dudley.
“Dunno. He said something about having to figure out how to get his hair tamed.”
“And with what?”, Ginevra chuckled and went over to Harry by the sink for washing the fake blood off her hands. “A hundred pins? A bucketful of lard? Blimey – that looks gross,”
“Does it?”
“ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER! GET YOUR BUTTOCKS MOVING BEFORE I BURST OPEN YOUR DOOR AND DRAG YOU ALL THE WAY OVER TO THE GRAVEYARD TO PUNCH YOUR FACE INTO THE MEMORIAL OF MY FORMER SELF!”
“Charming daughter we have there.”
“Can’t see where she’s got that from.”, Harry winked.
“And I didn’t mean your mouth. I’m used to that. I meant my hands. But you could wash it as well, yes.”
“Nope. I’m going over to the Glencoes’. Need to scare Mag a little. Besides, I can’t lift the charms around the house for some children, you know that. Not at Hallowe’en. There’s still a nice number of people wanting me dead. Yes, it’s been considerably quiet for two years now, but no one’s – no one’s gonna die in that place anymore. Not as long as I live here.”
“Oh please grin again. That’d lift the mood slightly. Great. Let’s hope she didn’t flush down her hair.”
“We’d hear that, Ginevra.”
And they did hear something: a shrill scream, making the windows and the dishes in the cupboards tremble and all five of them clap their hands on their ears, Ginevra splashing drops of water as she did.
“Now hear that, Dudley, that’s a Vampshee.”
Harry chuckled, but his red smile froze when Lily came blustering downstairs with her hair flying behind like a flag and pure fear on her white and red painted face before she hurled herself with her back against her father, who could only lie his left hand on her shoulder, his right hand already holding out his wand, alarmed. As Ginevra noticed it, she drew her own from her belt and signalled the petrified Dursleys to back away from the stairs.
“Expecto Patronum – Expecto Patronum – Expecto Patronum – ”, whimpered Lily, but her parents only frowned.
Very unlikely, the lights hadn’t gone out, but cold crawled towards them. Cold only. Then already a slimy, bony hand and a torn black cloak came in sight, though, the – unusually small – Dementor, took the stairs walking. Or rather, staggering.
“That is not funny,”, grunted Harry and they lowered their wands.
“Sorry.”, they could hear his muffled voice. “That’s not my costume anyway.”, having slight issues, he pulled off the striking imitation of a Dementor’s hands, then the oversized damaged cloak – and Lily screamed again. “Oh shut up! It’s only Gran.”
“Albus!”, moaned his mother. “Why!”
“At least now I know what you meant. If you spared the mask, you could actually wear that throughout the year.”, Harry smirked at the tailored red velvet robe and hooded cloak, as well as the actual red Dragon-Hide gloves. “Seems you found the family store.”
“I’m not sure whether I – ”, there was a barely noticeable humming sound, “Er – got the – ornaments on the forehead right?”
“You got them pretty well, Albus. Also the tears – what the – ”
“Bloody hell!”, gasped a tall ginger with an ashen painted face, weird hairstyle, messy dirty clothes and an axe in the head.
“Say you!”, laughed Harry and Ron also gave his decorated mouth a sceptical frown. “Had ourselves a little serving of work accident?”
“Cool, eh? It’s absolutely light! Hermione’s amazing, she is!”
“Hi.”, that one closed the door behind, her wild bushy mane temporarily dyed pale green and her skin and clothes looking as horrible as Ron’s.
“Where the heck are you two heading to?”, said Ginevra, her gaze wandering up and down on them.
“Nick’s Deathday Party, of course! This year Slughorn arranged it all.”
“That’s worth checking out, isn’t it? Didn’t you get the invitation? It starts at ten – oh no – it already started!”, Ron then moaned at the sight of the clock on the wall.
“I did.”, huffed Harry. “But actually, my family felt to be slightly more important to me,”
“We’re your family too, mate.”
“Sure. But it’s Albus’ last Hallowe’en at home for the next seven years.”
“So is Rose’s. However, she decided to stay at home and look after Hugo.”
“Very subtle of your Rose,”
“Really. She didn’t want to go with us.”
“Well, who wants to go on a Deathday Party with an undead lumberjack and – swot.”
“Oh how funny you are.”, Hermione pouted. “Nice red lips, Al. Very nice.”, the boy though said nothing on it.
“And what’re you?”, Ron noted over to his niece.
“She’s a Vampshee.”, explained his sister.
“Wicked. I didn’t even know such exist.”
“That’s because they don’t, Ron.”, said Hermione.
“Oh they do!”, protested Lily. “And I am one!”
“And what’s your mum going as?”
“For your information, undead swot, I’m dressed up as one of the most dangerous creatures in the entire world. It is called a Potter. Even worse, with Weasley descent.”
“Great! Dangerous creatures are allowed! But don’t let Hagrid hear that, okay? So? Are you two coming?”
“And what d’you think we’re supposed to do with Dudley? We can’t smuggle him into Hogwarts, now can we?”, meant Harry.
“Dudley?”, Hermione and Ron jerked.
“Hey,”, the mentioned gave them a slack wave.
“Oh goodness – Dudley – erm – hi – yes – well, that’s tricky, yes.”
“And we can’t just leave, letting the children running around without anyone left who could help them.”
“Actually,”, began Albus, but was ignored.
“Right – er – ”
“I’ll stay.”, said Harry.
“No – ”, Ginevra attempted to protest, yet was silenced with his wand hand on her shoulder, while the other still rested on their daughter’s.
“You go. I’ll stay here with Dudley. After all he’s my cousin, not yours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. That with paying the Glencoes a visit, was a joke. I really don’t feel like going on a party tonight.”
“Okay.”, Ginevra understood “But please wash off that horrible stuff.”
“My words. I don’t even like strawberry. No idea why she does.”
“I guess, it’s Grandma’s fault. Mum told me once that she adored strawberries.”, Ginevra sighed and kissed him, then messed up her hair with her wand and wiped some more of the fake blood off his face to spread it on hers. “Fine Let’s go.”
“Wait a sec.”, Harry meant and picked up the bottle with fake blood leftovers.
“Yes?”
What followed, was a shriek and a gasp. The gasp, had come from Hermione. The shriek, from her husband. The victim however only puffed at her own, bearing the laughter with the rest of the fake blood running down her face and clothes.
“Perfect. Now you are a real Potter.”, grinned Harry, either ignoring more shocked gasps as well as laughs when she raised a certain finger while blowing him a kiss.
“Happy Hallowe’en, Harry. Don’t let the Nargles in.”
“I’ll do my best. And you lot, take care.”, he said when he lighted the turnip lanterns for the four children and watched all of them leave. “Send Teddy my greetings and keep him from transforming into me just for the sake of attention.”
“We will.”
Silence. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall. Trying not to bother Dudley’s stare, he went for the sink to wash his face. Interestingly soothing, the cool liquid took away the strawberry taste. He didn’t want it to end. More and more, he washed his mouth – took off his glasses to wash his whole face, placed them limply by the sink. Once again. And another time. Probably to not make Dudley see. But it was ridiculous. Too peculiar. The worst disguise ever. It would have been better to just raise without drying his face so Dudley would mistake the tears for fresh water from the tap.
Then he felt it. It nearly made him jump and his heart topple towards the floor, not having expected it in the slightest. There was a hand on his back. Hesitant, but big and a wobbly, quiet voice, not louder than the chuckle that escaped Harry, spoke to him.
“No need to hide that.”
“Dud– ”
“Mum’s been secretly crying every Hallowe’en evening since I could think. She always waits till after ten, dunno why. She’d just stare at the clock and cry. No need to swallow it down. Really.”
And he didn’t anymore. He couldn’t anymore. His fingers digging into the surface around the sink, he wept bitterly.
~~#~~
Although their stomachs were filled to a bursting point and the sacks the Dursley boys carried close to tear as well, they were still on the prowl. The last house had been quite fertile and, in spite of the church bell in the distance telling them it was quarter to midnight already, they didn’t even slightly want to call it a – night, and go back home. Apparently all other children had done so though.
Alone in the dark of an alley without lamps and their turnip lanterns left behind at the graveyard an hour ago, they passed a big pumpkin in a window, its candle almost lapsed and the room behind it was as dark as the rest of the alley. Only scarce light came from the crossing street ahead and they were drawn to that shimmer like moths. However, a sign on a door made Albus halt. The window next to it showed another light. He leant closer to see that the anteroom was dark, but the abutting room brightly lit.
“Wait – ”
“What’s it?”, said one of the Dursleys.
“Look at that – that shield, I mean.”
“Go away – what? `Go away, we don’t have sweets´ – ?”
“Oh give it a try!”, whispered the other Dursley boy.
“Shall I?”
“Yes!”, the three hissed excited.
“Okay. Line up there.”
He waited for them to stand in a narrow row with him, checked the alley both sides, searched for the string that rang the doorbell and pulled it. As expected, it was shrill, but not as shrill as the woman’s voice that raged behind the door, accompanied by ferocious stomping and the light in the anteroom being turned on.
“Can’t you brats read? We don’t have – ”, she unlocked and tore the door open, “Any – ”, and froze, obviously at the sight of Albus’ disguise. “Oh how cute.”, she puffed. “Thinking we’re being funny, yes? There’re three of them! And much taller, as I heard.”, Albus though didn’t hear, he felt first. “See that you get lost!”, and he had had felt it already that day. “Are you deaf?”
“I ’ardly zink zey are.”, said the calm voice behind, making his eyes under the hand-made mask widen with surprise and the woman’s with horror as the other children spun, no less frightened than their opponent, who held out her wand. “’Ow cute.”, Jeanne scoffed as the wand left her hand without much struggling and soared over the children’s heads.
“Ivory?”, a man called from inside, but also his quickly pulled wand didn’t stand the disarming, nor seemed the two able to do anything apart from standing where they stood.
“Zank you for opening your door so kindly. We really appreciate ’ospitality. Greetings from your brozer, by ze way.”, Albus shortly turned his head to see a very red, small photograph being flipped into the anteroom, and to find Jeanne not being alone.
“No – ”, the fittingly fair woman named Ivory aspirated to the photo that had sailed to the floor at her feet. “No!”
“Anyzing you got to say for your defence? A little remorse per’aps?”
“No!”, she now snarled angrily. “You won’t get us! I don’t give a damn about what you did and how you did it! There’s always a way, isn’t there? Don’t you think you’ll get us that easily!”, she meant to perform some kind of magic, but was forced to realise with panic that her ability was strangely blocked.
“Zen eet ees settled.”
“Nothing’s settled!”
“Albus, grab yer sis’er an’ friends an’ go back ’ome. We’ll take on ’ere now.”
“I could – ”
“Ye could nut’in’. Believe me, ye – ”
“Clean up?”
“Really dun’ wan’ ter see tha’.”
“But – ”
“Albus,”
“I want to be with you!”, he moaned but was rejected again.
“No. There’ll be a time fer tha’.”
“When!”, protested the boy.
“Soon. We do our work, ye’ll be a child as lon’ as ye can. Ye take on too much responsibility already even. Go.”
“No!”
“I said, go. If there’s anythin’, yer Dad’ll know. Jus’ try ter ge’ ’ome safely.”
“Alright – ”, he sighed, utmost disappointed.
~~#~~
“Stop looking at the clock, Dudley. They’re fine.”, so was Harry, again, after having talked about all sorts of things for the last two hours.
“How can you say?”
“I – I’d know if something was wrong.”
“How?”
“I’d feel it – ”
“Mum said, she always knew if something was wrong with me,”
“Did she?”
“Yeah. Guess, my boys have never been in real danger then.”, Dudley shrugged.
“Or Vernon’s genes killed the last bit of magic in your line.”
“Perhaps, yeah.”, he laughed. “Or I’m just not sensitive enough. Never knew much what’s good for others – or myself even.”
“Seems we do have something in common there; it took me a couple of years to get the knack, once I figured the fact. Are you cold? Should I close the window?”
“I’ve got enough fat left. If you’re not freezing, I don’t care.”
“Alright.”
“So, you say, you’ve been promoted to a high position – years ago already?”
“Yeah. I head the Auror Office now.”
“Really? What’s it like?”
“Not much different. I get paid more for doing less work. Well, I still do a lot of work, more than Robards did. I just couldn’t live with it. But I can spend more time with my children. And since Albus’ll attend Hogwarts next year and Lily the year after, the raise doesn’t hurt. Next to that, there’s a nice number I donate on a regular basis, so – ”
“To what?”
“Oh, this and that. St Mungo’s, Draco’s orphanage, educational programs for Squibs, Bullock’s foundation, Greenpeace,”
“Greenpeace? You’re kidding?”
“Sometimes I secretly help collecting waste for recycling.”
“You? An eco-activist?”
“Why not? It’s about time people try to refurbish the planet they call their home. After all it’s our fault that we’re drowning in, I may note, our own mess.”
“Any ambitions to climb even higher up the greasy pole?”
“So I had more time crawling in dumps in the wilderness?”, Harry chuckled.
“That too. But for your kids. I mean, your oldest – ”
“James never really needed me. Neither of us. His friends are more important for him than his family. I mean, I know he secretly likes to spend time with his siblings, but he’s too proud to admit it. And Lily clings to Ginevra’s coat-tails. It’s Albus who’s drawn to me most. Luckily I’m still tutoring at Hogwarts. I can’t think how he’d survive it without seeing me every day, or how I’ll do. Then it’ll be at least a week a month. He’s really mature for his age, but I still hope it doesn’t kill him being on his own then. Or well, like I said, me.”
“Rather hope he doesn’t grow up too rapidly and becomes like James.”
“No. For that, he’s too much like – ”
“Harry?”, Dudley noticed that he pricked up his ears.
“Someone’s coming – ”
“Again?”
“I – ”
Both heads zoomed at the window as white fog came speeding in, landing very ungentle between them at the table, falling back over to the dresser. When he recognised who materialised from it and in which state the pale man was, Harry jumped up automatically. However, he was stopped in place by barely audible words that were whispered to him.
“Harry – ”, Draco croaked, in a way he had heard him do sometimes ever since Hannah had broken up with him. “Please – ”
But instead of walking on to sit down and receive help, Draco’s eyes became twisted and his knees gave in. Harry jumped over and caught him easily, kneeling down on the kitchen floor.
“What’s wrong with him?”, Dudley moaned, but Harry had already found the tool in Draco’s pocket and –
“Shit!”, it was empty – and Draco had stopped breathing.
“What – ”
“Help me! Grab his legs! We need to get him onto the table! Quick!”
Once Dudley had managed to move and they had Draco laid down flat, Harry sent out his stag of light. It galloped through the open window and vanished in the night, Dudley torn between staring after it and the at the unconscious man.
“What’s he got! What’s wrong with him!”
“His lungs collapsed.”
“What?”
“Hold down his left arm.”, said Harry and conjured a rope around the table to bind down Draco’s legs. “I’ll hold the other.”
“What’s that do?”
“I need to reduce the pressure on his lungs. I can’t do that without holding him down.”
“O-okay.”, whined Dudley and did as he was ordered, though careful not to crush the thin arm.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“One, two, – ”
~~#~~
“Huh? Why do you – ”
“Are you alright?”, the dark eyes had gotten stuck, fixated on the dying man before them, but clearly oblivious. “Hey! What’s – ”
The siblings’ rattling breath, like of so many before, didn’t trouble any of the three. It was the light then, that passed the undetectable magical barrier around the estate, casting a bluish silvery shine on the red scenery. Clank. Dark eyes had moved, with the breath beneath gotten stuck, as the shimmering silver knife had fallen, reflecting the light of the stag and the golden crystals of the chandelier above, into a red pond. Only slow, the marbles turned up, past the velvet clothes and towards the panic-stricken voice the stag spoke with.
“Quick! Francis is needed! A respirator! To our kitchen! Draco’s dying!”
Phut. Minimised to glowing but fading fog, the Patronus dissolved, with four pairs of eyes on it. Nothing left but uncontrolled breathing and the ticking of a grandfather clock by the fireplace. Nothing left of another family, but a woman’s brown eyes that lost their fire with every second passing. Her brothers had reunited, though not in the way they had planned to.
“Kill – me – ”, she gargled, her exhausted stare then resting on the dead body on the chair by her side.
“Do as she says.”, said Jeanne. “We need to get out of here and into St Mungo’s. As fast as possible. You stay.”, the nod was meant for Feng.
“But we never – ”, Abelarda frowned, meaning to discuss.
“We never ’ad an emergency either!”, Jeanne barked.
“Alright, alright!”
Quickly the knife soared back up into the Dragon-Hide glove and its tip towards where Ivory’s heart was still beating. But only an inch before it would destroy the last bubble of life in there, a strong hand caught the wrist.
“No!”
“No?”, now Abelarda was seriously confused and looked at each pair of eyes, that seemed to have built a bridge. “What now!”
“Ge’ tha respirator. Ge’ it packed an’ come back ’ere.”
“But – ”
“Sto’ questionin’ an’ do it!”, for the first time, probably ever, there was a popping sound when Abelarda Disapparated. “’Elp me please. We need ter fix ’er.”
“What?”, both others gargled.
“Come on!”
“If you say so,”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why – ”, aspirated Ivory over the muttered healing spells and limply watched her own blood trail back up into her body; the loss of it had made her painless.
“Bein’ too weak fer stoppin’ one’s brothers is no crime. It’s on ye ter decide, whether ye can live wit’ tha’, no’ on us. An’ ’cause I jus’ can’ be tha one who’s killed ’er sis’er, migh’ she ’ave liked ye or no’. Bu’ I know fer sure, she’s ’ated ye tha leas’.”
“What do you mean?”, Feng asked, but continued the healing when Jeanne paused to pull off a glove and Ivory was conscious enough again to recognise what she saw, before another pop filled the room.
“Never, I say, never ever make me do that again. I had like a dozen Healers after me, asking me why the hell I needed it.”, panted the man who appeared, in lime-green clothes with a leather pouch in the right and an ornamented reddish wand in the left hand.
“So you got it?”
“And when I refused they all started shooting wildly at me and I was stupid enough to – to run – ”
“Have you got it?”
“Yes!”, Abelarda’s voice moaned from the differing body that brandished with the pouch which was seized immediately.
“Good. Thanks. Now help here, please.”
“With what?”
“Just help, alright?”
A tap of the black wand made another set of bloodstained robes of red become a Healer’s clothes, in white, and the free hand reached under them to exchange the mask that had been summoned from the table, with a flask. Its content went down Jeanne’s throat in mid-spin.
“Oh great!”, Harry sighed with relief. “I got him stable, but I dunno for how long he’s – ”
“No worries.”, Francis calmed him, dropped the leather pouch on the kitchen floor, enlarged it, and much to Dudley’s probably biggest confusion in his life, pulled it open and reached into the big dark hole.
“You got that with you all the time?”
“No.”, said Francis when he pushed the respirator over and locked its wheels next to the table. “You can let go.”
“Thanks. My hands’re getting numb.”, chuckled Harry. “Dudley, you can let go too. He’ll be alright now.”
“Let me guess, he must have been too busy to notice that he had forgotten to refill – ”
“Seems so.”, Harry cracked his knuckles while Francis adjusted the mask and tapped his wand onto the engine to get it working. “Hey! What a development!”
“Yes. Simply everyone is glad not to have an elephant herd in their room anymore. You mind if I wash my face?”, he pointed over to the sink.
“Not at all.”
“Oh – sorry.”, before he went, he reached across the table and offered Dudley his hand. “Francis Carlisle. Healer and – official sergeant of respirator thieves.”
“Nice I get to know your name at last, Sir.”, whispered Dudley and Harry couldn’t hold back a grin. “Er – Mr Carlisle?”
“Yes?”, he asked, already turning up the tap and burying his face in his now wet hands.
“Your shoes are – bleeding – ”
“What?”, he spun and looked down, his frown above his amber eyes following the red footprints while water dripped down onto his clothes from his tawny catfish beard – and then zoomed at –
“No worries.”, snickered Harry. “I’m not as stupid as to not having figured. I can feel the difference, you know.”
“I’m so sorry – ”
“I said, no worries. But hey, now there’s two kitchens you need to clean.”
“A kitchen an’ a sittin’ room – ”
“Really? Is it nice?”
“If ye consider bl– ”
“I meant the accommodation.”
“’Andcrafted marble mantelpiece, brown velve’ curtains, crème tapes’ry, ar’ nouveau furniture includin’ a grandfather clock, chandelier an’ standard lamp – bu’ tha floor colour was definitely tha resul’ o’ a terribly wron’ choice.”
“So you thought it’d be wonderful to help out as an interior design consultant?”
“No’ yer paren’s’ son at all, are ye?”
“I was told I’m a little git, yes.”
“I thought – ”, the hoarse voice, trying to speak in between hard breaths, drew their attention, “That’s – me.”
“Course ye are. Takin’ off tha ankle’ – ”
“You’d better get your life sorted.”, grunted Harry above the murmur. “How are you?”
“You’re – right.”, he panted on with his eyes still closed. “You’re – the git. You don’t – make it – easy for me – to be quits – with you.”
“You’re done?”
“Not – nearly.”, Draco chuckled coughing and smiled into the mask, trying to open his lids for looking up at Harry. “Thanks.”
“You know it’s my profession to save arses.”
“And it’s – mine – to be – one. Dad – will kill – me one day.”
“Why?”
“Seems – he changed – his mind. I fled – from Nick’s – party. I’ve been – arguing – with Horace. Called him – a – a – ”, he chuckled again, “Guess – Dad – loved him – ”
“Er – ”
“Called him – a pimp – and nearly – pegged out – in the – Entrance Hall – already. Dad – you little – sh-”
“Serves ’im well.”, snorted Francis. “Bu’ no’ ye.”
“Oh – shut it. I don’t need – sympathy.”
“You better get cleaning up before he suffocates from his incredible humbleness.”
“All righ’. Ye’re fine?”, Harry nodded seriously.
“Tha gu math, tapadh leibh. Ciamar a tha sibh fèin?”, he only turned and vanished. “Why do I even ask.”, Harry murmured to himself and cleaned the floor with a flick of his wand.
“Oidhche Shamhna shona dhuibh, a h-uile duine!”, could just be heard echoing in through the window.
“What’s he – ”, Draco tried to sit up, which was hard due to the hosepipe, the pain in his chest and his legs still being bound to the table. “Er – ”, the leather pouch shrunk as it soared through the room and out of the window as well.
“Never mind.”, Harry briefly pushed up Draco’s trousers’ right leg and his sock down, just to find the ankle bare. “And you really are an ignorant idiot. Never occurred to you that Luna – ”
“What – have you – been talking – ”, Draco ignored him.
“Nothing really special. He just wished us a happy Hallowe’en night.”
~~#~~
They hadn’t spoken a word on their way back. Lily had tried, but Albus had refused to answer her, so she had given up on it after a while. Something troubled him way too much for caring about her nosiness now. Something was definitely not alright at home and the idea that he had been sent away not only because of the brutality those siblings were experiencing right now, but because of the urge he had to check what was wrong, became stronger with every step.
Cold already owned the abandoned streets of Godric’s Hollow and a glowing mist travelled over the ground in the lamplight – darkness. There had been a sizzling noise, then the lights had gone out in the street they walked. Lily whimpered.
“Probably just a stupid marten. It might have killed itself even.”, she whimpered a little more. “Oh come on. It’s not like we don’t see a thing. What?”, his sister pointed down the street, where some dark figures drew near. “Oh wonderful. No marten.”
“Demons – ”
“No. It’s that stupid gang. They love doing that when they find children out late alone. Let’s take that way there.”, he turned right, but was stopped by Lily’s gasp and a spooky face that was lit from below with a battery torch.
“Boo!”, made the youngster and Lily yelped, jumping back against her brother’s chest; also the Dursleys did a step away from the stranger. “Scared?”
“You wish.”, Albus snarled.
“Well, if it isn’t the Potter kids. Looks like the brat caught herself some – decease?”, laughed another, having reached them, and turned on a torch likewise.
“Nice pun.”, grumbled Albus.
“What’s with that mask, Aly-Waly?”, a third torch went on.
“Yeah – what’s with that mask?”, said a fourth and reached out as Albus turned and tore it off.
“Hey!”, Lily had plucked up some courage and reached after it.
“Oh no.”, the boy cackled and pushed her off, so she stumbled back between her brother and the Dursleys, stepped onto her hair, stumbled even more and was caught rather fierce by a fifth teenager.
“Let go of her!”, hissed Albus, as she struggled in vain, with her arms trapped by the firm arm around her stomach.
“Shall I? What do I get for it?”
“Give them the sweets.”, he said grim, but the Dursleys seemed to prefer their bait over the safety of their second cousin.
“Sweets? You think we want sweets? What do you think, guys? Do you want sweets?”, a murmuring refusal went around. “See? They don’t want sweets. I don’t either.”
“Then what.”, but he was grabbed too; two of the teenagers squeezing a wrist each and forced them behind his back.
“Hmm. Let me think. Why, yes, I think, I want that little fancy dress of hers. Hmm?”, he leant down and whispered into Lily’s ear, the terror in her face reaching an unbearable level. “Why don’t you take off that ugly dress and show us your real beauty?”
“Why don’t you take off your pants, hmm?”, whispered someone else from the boy’s direction, whose insane grin fell off and Albus ceased the struggling with a growing smirk, resembling much what he had given the Death Eater only hours ago. “And show your little friends here, how very little you got hidden there, if they are already dumb enough to not see how absolutely immature every single one of you is? You five, even collectively, haven’t got the balls to take it up with my son, once you made him mad enough.”
Each of the youngsters looked around dumbfounded. Each but Albus, Lily and the one who kept her trapped. Though he swallowed heavily and let go of her, just like the other two let go of Albus, who caught his once more stumbling sister. At last she started crying. And so did the boy who had seemed so strong only seconds ago. Swallowing again, he tried to see what was pressed against his throat when eight eyes nearly popped out in the shine of their torches as another pair of green ones became visible in the scarce light, the face around filled with pure disgust.
There was one difference. It was not the popping noises of Obliviators Apparating all around the group, with their wands held out. It was their wands flying high into the air and getting caught by a single person, who stood behind Harry, their own wand pointed at his back. And it was Harry’s wand lowering in the moment sanity won over the fear for his children.
“Nuthin’ ’appens twice in Godric’s Hollow. Be yer mother’s son fer instance.”, said the deep, serious voice and without visible reason, the Obliviators were gone back to the Ministry and the teenagers started running into the night as though they were nothing but puppets. “Dun’ destroy yer children’s lives. Dun’ defile yer son’s name more than it is already defiled. Be yerself. Be tha par’ o’ yerself tha’ wun’ need ter build ’is life on tons o’ regre’s. Be ye, no’ anybody else. Edward Burbage shall be tha las’ one who go’ murdered in tha Lair o’ Death, in tha nigh’ tha los’ souls return. Mark me words. Ye excuse me, I need ter ge’ back ter me sis’ers. ’Ey expec’ me ter explain meself – an’ ge’ rid o’ ’is body. Be careful, Master o’ Hallows.”
~~#~~
An eerie silver laid in the sky, from the high resting fog veiling the sun, preventing its rays to reach the moist soil and bushes beneath. Everything was preparing for its winter’s rest, but not in peace. The snapping sound of secateurs disturbed the quiet, along with a dog barking far away in another neighbourhood, stopping eventually. A car could be heard driving past the house’s front, slow and considerate. Snap. Another branch fell. Why, other than for feigning perfection when all was dying, was not clear. Snap. One more. Sn– this one seemed to struggle –ap. But both knew, it wasn’t the branch’s fault.
Huffing at the bleak boughs before her, she continued cutting for another minute, ignoring the man that stood by the other hedge, behind, arms crossed, studying her. A glimpse at the window had revealed his reflection and confirmed her assumption.
“You brought them back.”, were the first words of the day she had spoken, long after she had wished her husband a good morning – only. “Already.”, he didn’t answer, but also didn’t need to. “I hope the boys at least caught some sleep.”
“Plenty.”, he replied, calm, soft, but without any detectable emotion, just like her.
“Good. Dudley tends to forget how to turn off that stupid gaming console.”
“He said it grants him sleep instead.”
“Whatever.”
“And you? Did you catch some sleep?”
“Why do you ask?”
“He knows.”, snap.
“Knows what.”
“He always knew, but never questioned.”
“Questioned what.”
“Past ten.”
As stiff as a tree, she slowly turned on the spot, presenting him blank eyes beneath her blond precision and the secateurs held with both skeletal hands in front of her hovering slim chest.
“Ten eleven.”, he specified, equally blank, his arms still crossed in front of his high buttoned sleek black robe, the sleeves reaching past the wrists even in their wound state. “And twenty-one seconds.”, a deeply inhaling breath, from both. “Only few know. My wife, because I told her. My parents, because they felt it. Me,”
“How.”
“Because I saw the broken clock.”
“Twenty-two.”
“Twenty-one.”
“Then she had failed to synchronise it. She always wanted to synchronise our living room clocks. Constantly.”
“Twenty-one.”, Harry repeated. “Information needs time to travel. Even between souls.”
What had been left, hidden behind the blankness, was now gone. Blown away. Pure emptiness staring back at him. And yet she sucked in her lips. Made them thinner than they already were.
“She held it high. I denied it. Disputed it. Eventually she accepted that it was only her to feel everything. Because she was a witch, and I wasn’t. Of course that is a lie. She accepted that I refused to admit it.”
“My grandfather was highly empathetic. He’d felt everything his sons had gone through. Also what he – tried to dismiss. He’d felt it all. He was a Muggle. Blood doesn’t matter. Or maybe it does. Sensitivity can be inherited. Both my parents knew everything I went through, for as long as they lived. I know everything my children go through.”
“Dudley fell asleep on the sofa. The boys are silently playing rock-paper-scissors by his toes. To decide who will paint on which sock.”, she faltered. “Most likely. They – sometimes do.”
“They do now, and you know you’re right.”
“Yes. You said both your parents. Who told you.”
Slowly his arms dropped. Gentle, almost gliding, he closed up to her. Lifted his hands to hers, eyes at the same level, but connected by more than just looks. They could feel each other’s breath on their faces. Blind but not searching, with a quiet snap, the blades met and a click locked them in place.
“Our current culture, however changing, demands a grave for each honourable woman, man and child.”, Harry whispered. “Even pets, sometimes. But, a grave, for each.”, her eyes started to flick from one of his to the other; he felt his doing the same. “Only that some of us, sometimes, refuse to step down into theirs.”
When he backed away from her, his warming fingers sliding off hers, her narrowed lips drifted apart.
“I – ”, struggling, her voice broke free, in an equal whisper, breathed into the moist autumn air.
“If you really want, there is always a way. Just have faith.”
“I felt her die.”
“Who said I was talking about her?”
Dropping the faintest of smiles, a sort of smile she had only seen very few times in her life, though never on her nephew until the very moment, he turned on the spot and was gone, before a following breeze could make more sound than him. With a thud, the joined blades pierced into the soft ground between her feet.
“Petunia, sweet? Is everything alright? P– ”, a growling voice disturbed the quiet, at last. “Petunia – you – you look like you’ve seen – a – a ghost – ”
“Nonsense.”, she huffed and bent down to pick up the secateurs.
For a very brief moment, her eyes lingered on the marking, the blades and bolt had left behind in the soft earth. No bigger in diameter than an eyeball, it was a cross. A tiny cross, and as if that hadn’t been enough, a single ray of sunlight fought its way through the fog. Dashed past a loose strand of her hair and fell right onto the imprint. As silent and quick as Harry, it was gone again.
“Yes. No such things as ghosts.”
“No.”, her infamous pout was back as she stiffened.
With sudden strength, stomping her delicate feet hard into the soil, she strutted past him, not deigning him a look as she pressed the secateurs flat against his chest, barely caught by his sausage fingers.
“Ghosts are transparent.”
~~#~~