Question Chapter 20th
Chapter 20. Time to Reconnect Part - 3 (End)
Author Notes: My beta(s) apparently becomes busier, somehow, with their own lives. Sigh… It’s alright. Everyone has their own lives; I just hope my readers will be alright with that. As once again, I got no beta. So here I am, posting this new chapter as usual un-beta-ed. And AGAIN I open doors right and left, if anyone want to be my beta, please just PM me.
Warning:Nope, this one is raw, not yet got beta-ed as apparently I never got luck when it comes to find a beta. I hope for my readers to excuse any bad words, bad languages, all are mine to take. If it’s offending you, just leave my story alone. No hard feeling.
Time to Reconnect Part - 3 (End)
There was a time when Andy needs to tell herself, her mothers are people who have witness and go through so much experience and live to tell the tale. Today is one of those times when she needs to tell herself again, of such fact. She was feeling rather foolish to be so worried, frightened over nothing and to her embarrassment it happens in the last six years.
Her Ma, Amelia Bones was an Auror, one of her kinds for in the era she start her career female-Aurors were rather rare. Yet Amelia rise through the ranks against other Aurors that mostly were men, back then the unfairness between genders were quite striking especially in such field. In those days, women mostly become wallflower, to raise children, to stay at home, to look out the family and waiting husbands to go home. But not only Amelia worked inside a male only field as an Auror, she too falls head over heels to her own teacher since her day in Hogwarts and to top it all, the teacher is a woman. As someone who lived chasing criminals with their thorny families covering them, as someone who against their biggest crimes they did to non-magical people who most of it are nothing but nightmares, Andy feel really foolish to ever think her Ma would reject her over her condition. Amelia Bones perhaps have seen much worse crime happened.
While her Mother, Minerva McGonagall is a devoted teacher a respectable member of the society from one of the ancient noble house, highly regarded even by her foes of her shrewdness and not surprisingly her austerity. House of McGonagall could be traced further to the day where Founders of Hogwarts not yet famous, the House of McGonagall already on the top of the chain of command as one of the Landlords with good reputations including to face injustice. The men are famous of their sagacity and the women are always in the most wanted bachelorette’s list. For they are not the typical of a wallflower, they have their own intelligence that back then more often than not helped their husbands going through the society-rank and seized ranks, status, positions and of course, fame. Her mother, Minerva McGonagall, has seen perhaps all the worst nightmares life could give. She faced two Dark Lords, the first in her youth and the latter was for last -approximately- near 30 years, and joined three different wars and survive.
She had been there to pick up her friends’ corpses. She was there to face their brutality. And how it shreds Minerva’s heart apart into little pieces that those criminals most of them were her former-students who wronged their victims, that yet again, her former-students. It must be so hurting what Minerva taught in their school-days was used to harm other people, their fellow-former-friends in Hogwarts. Schoolmates they shared one academy, practically one roof, for seven years. They hurt. They betrayed. They tortured. And they killed.
Frankly Andy cannot imagine what her mother’s felt when she heard news that any wizard or witch from Britain, a former student of hers, becomes a criminal, using spells and charms that perhaps she has taught them to master it.
So again Andy feels extremely foolish to be fretting over nothing, compare to what both of her mother need to go through whole these years, in away what she endured and experienced in every way possible, is pale in comparison. Six years, she left her homeland for six years; leave her family and friends avoiding her family in Britain or even in the United States like a plague all for nothing. Stuffs that give her nightmares for six years, violent reactions or in this case perhaps rejections from her main-family never come true. Both of her mothers showed nothing but affections, genuinely in grief perhaps, but love her no less. How could she have doubts about both of them so much? How come she could be so cynical over her own family? Even to her own sister, Susan, her gentle and kind loving younger sister whom gives her nothing but a tight warm hug as soon as she stepped out of the fireplace into the living-room inside the Bones’s Manor. How could she torture herself over nothing? What's worse, she tortured them too, for six-years of her went missing. Her most precious people, her own family, tortured for six years to search, wondering where she had gone, what they had done all of her own selfishness, irrational not mentioning unreasonable trepidation over rejection that never comes.
So here, seated on her chair at the dining table surrounded by her mothers and sister to savor the first dinner after six long years, Andy cannot stop the tears that flowing out refusing to be stopped. “I’m sorry.” Dropping the silvery with a clang-sound on her plate Andy brought up her palms burying her face into her palms as she sobs harder, “I’m sorry. I really am.” She heard instead seeing of the sound of a chair being pushed back, a rush of footsteps rounding the table and slimmer if not far too thin figure of her sister pressed to her left side hugging her shoulders and whispering soothing words, but all of that brought nothing but harder sobs to escape her body that shook with grief and shame to ever doubt and hurt her family so much.
Reaching across the table Amelia intertwined her fingers with her wife’s left fingers, bringing up her free palm to muffle her sobs while looking to her wife through blurry eyes. While Minerva seems shaken by her birth-daughter breaking down in their dining-table, the oldest member of their tiny household used her right palm to cover her eyes by pressing it against her eyebrows but it couldn’t hide the tears flowing down her cheeks and how she bit down her lips, hard- not caring drawing out bloods, the youngest member of the family, Susan could only tightened her hug around her one and only sister despite her own face soaked by tears she refuse to let go her Andy. Her sister, who come home after six years disappearing from them, out of their reach with so the public kept thinking she already pass-away and for them, for Susan and their mothers to receive pitiful look over wishful thinking and waiting one who have gone disappearing into the night with no one knows where she gone.
It’s hurting them. A small part of her wants to yell at her sister to disappear in such way, to hurt her and her mothers, but the tears Andy have now enough to tell Susan her sister regret such action greater than anyone else even she herself trapped in so much pain, and until the last two days, the possibility is so high that Andy faced those pains and her darkest time all by herself. That’s why Susan banished such thought immediately. Her sister didn’t need more painful experience. And Susan Bones promised to herself, she won’t allow anything or anyone to bring more harm to Andy, with all cost.
(-*-)
Outside, inside the corridor leaning against the wall is Rafael, with arms crossed on his chest his jaws flexing few times hearing his boss-and-friend, Andy breaking down in front of her family. He felt relief that Andy’s family accepts her back, welcoming her home with open arms instead what she fear the most, rejection. Yet, a big part of him is livid. What happen last night in Diagon Alley possible to be a threat to the family in the future and he got a bad feeling, it will be sooner than later. He just hoped Andy could have time to heal herself to reconnect with her family and friends, to mend the broken links before all levels of hell break loose.
Pursing his lips he pushed away from the wall he used to lean on, quietly making his way to the front-door and exiting the manor closing the door as quietly as he could behind him and near got a heart-attack to find Janice already standing on the bottom of the stairs. “Good evening, Mr. Rafael.” The little creature lifted up a coffee-mug. “I have prepared a hot-coffee for you.”
Even he saw her for last 12 hours or so, Rafael still take a few seconds to calm his heartbeat and formulating a response. “Y-Yeah, thanks.” He reached for the coffee-mug and smiled down unsure, to the House-Elf. “H-How you know…er…” he looked down to the coffee-mug he hold on his right hand and to the elf that beamed, seeming pleased seeing his confusion. “This Janice has served House of Bones since before Mistress Amelia’s father born, Mister Rafael. This Janice already learned lots of things.”
That tiny information sends Rafael twitching, from what he could gather, Amelia Bones already around for last few decades… ‘And she said she already serving the House of Bones before the lady-of-the-house’s father ever born?’ he thought and shuddered. He really didn’t want to ask how old this little green-thing creature is. As if sensing what he thought Janice chuckles, “but Mister Rafael should not be surprised,” said the tiny creature who casually says, “Robin, Mistress Minerva’s House-Elf already served the House of McGonagall before this Janice come around. He was Janice’s teacher to be a good house-elf.” She puffed out her chest, proudly.
‘I really didn’t want to know that too!’ Feeling light-headed all of sudden, “A-Amazing,” Rafael said weakly. “W-Well then, er,” pausing to clear his throat, not wanting to feel so pathetic, “if Andy or anyone in her family, er, wondering where I’m gone,” Rafael paused trying to find a word that could tell them where and why he gone without alerting certain doe-eyed brunette. “Just tell them I decided to check my men and let them having a family time.” A good lie is by giving out the truth, albeit not all of it, he decided. But it seems the tiny creature that looking up at him with her huge-round-eyes seem know better as those dark-orbs twinkling with knowing light and a firm nod of her head, “Of course, Mr. Rafael,” Janice said, bowing her head slightly, “have a safe trip.”
“Thanks. I’ll stop by on the morning. Bye Janice.” Pleased Janice would work with him, Rafael exited the Bones’s complex quickens his paces as he got lots of things to do. Yes he needs to check on his men, to check Derek that hopefully could continue his job protecting their precious cargo or he need to find a replacement. To meet Alf of course to find out how the hell they got two goddamn-vampires from London’s Police, and investigating what they had done before their deaths. Rafael cannot help but cringe as worst scenarios flowing into his mind and mentally sending a quick prayer that those two vampires work alone and not for some bad-people that lurking in the shadow or make a contact with those criminals over Andy’s whereabouts. Lastly but not least, he needs to report to his other boss whom working for certain Leader of Nation that very overprotective over his families, especially his oldest niece from his half-sister he idolized. Cringing again over the future of not so smooth-sailing international-call, “I need a raise,” Rafael mumbled absent-mindedly bringing up the coffee-mug to his lips and takes a sip of the delicious beverage, “on a second thought,” his gaze flickered down to the mug and mumbled, “Maybe I need a house-elf.”
Rounding a corner he slowed down his pace as Rafael approaching a public-street out of the high-class neighborhood not wanting to draw unwanted attention and blend with the passerby never once aware from the very corner he just passed a tall black-haired man with a pair of striking emerald orbs seemingly stepped out from the shadow.
He is none other than Harry Evans-Potter himself. With hands slipped inside his coat-pockets Harry peered over the corner looking straight to the familiar house for his mentor, his boss and his friends lived and back to the Latino that blending with the passersby. A frown marred his feature; Harry didn’t recognize the Latino as a British-wizard for the Wizarding community of this nation isn’t that big. Practically, everyone knows everyone. Casting one last look to the Bones’s manor, Harry glided away, strolling leisurely his trained-eyes as a Seeker without difficulty helped him to keep his distance while after the unknown Latino.
Harry didn’t know him. He never saw him before till a few moments ago. But something in this Latino strikes him odd, as someone who facing dangers for years, since the day he entered the Wizarding World of Britain to be certain followed by the famous war and now having his shared in Magical Law Enforcement, Harry could see this stranger who coming out from the Bones’s Manor with a coffee-mug as if he is a member of the family, or at the very least someone the family hold dearly is quite athletic and well trained.
Slowing down a bit Harry shot his gaze to the left acting as if he is admiring the bridal-shop that happen to be one he now take his time to pass while using the corner of his eyes to follow the Latino that stopping on the traffic-light and casually scanning his surroundings while taking a sip of his drink. Never rushing, taking his time, just like his Hermione’s advice Harry approached closer after some people crowding behind Rafael and crossed the street with him. Once they crossed the street Harry would slow down keeping the distances to not alert the person he followed, his guts told him this person is an expert in military or some kind. The sharpness in Rafael’s dark eyes is a sight Harry has become familiar with from his Aurors, friends and of course, his boss, the Ministry herself, her wife included.
Those kinds of eyes would detect anything that out of place behind the casualness in a split of second. Harry this time slowing down considerably, one eyebrow hiked up seeing the Latino make a turn to the right to enter a familiar building, cocking his head slightly to the side Harry went to the side of the road looking on the building without losing his casualness and read the large board that have universal-sign of a hospital. “London General Hospital.” He mused concentrating why the name sounds so familiar before something click inside his mind and a wolfish grin blooming on his lips. “Now, this sounds fun…” with a wick chuckle he looked around, eyes landed on a café across the street and quickly he went there.
Exactly four minutes later Harry puts his best charming smile to the nurses behind the front-desk, “good evening ladies,” he said sweetly, honey practically dripping off his words. “May I ask where I could find my aunt?”
“Y-Your aunt, dear?” The elder of the nurses that blushing horribly of the super-handsome visitor, asked dazedly. “W-Who’s your aunt?”
“Jane.” Harry beamed his smile brighter. “Jane Granger.”
Nearly blinded by such charming smile in such night-time, “T-The Head of the Hospital?” the elder asked, blinking a few times before pointing to a corridor on the right side of the front desk. “Just go that way, turned left at the third intersection and you wouldn’t miss her office.”
“Thank you,” Harry glanced down quickly to her name tag, “Martha.” He smiled warmly placing the container that holding up five cups of coffees. “And please take these coffees, no offense ladies but you all shouldn’t depend on the hospital’s drinks let alone foods,” he lightly inserted a flirt tone, dropping his voice into a husky one, “it won’t good for lovely ladies like all of you.” He ended it with a wink and walk away smirking lopsided as squeals exploded on the front desk, even he found the door he sought and entering the room behind it, closing the door behind him Harry still smirking silly. “Bloody hell, I’m so cool.” He flipped his own bangs in cheap-slipshod way of a male-model pausing in his narcissi-way when a laughter floating from his very front, dropping his right hand to the side Harry see a beautiful brunette who so alike with his dearest Hermione using her left palm to cover her mouth with crystal-brown eyes twinkling in mirth.
“Good evening, troublemaker.” The woman seated behind oak-desk smothered her laughter into uncontrollable giggles. “You certainly must be aware that my daughter’s phone-numbers is in my speed-dial that needs only a finger of me to tell her that her lovely ‘not-boyfriend’ but ‘closer-than-friend’ went to my place of work to flirt with nurses, female-doctors and perhaps, patients too?” Her only respond is only for Harry to lift up his hands, “Aunt Jane!” He beamed at her and with an adorable pout swinging his left hand that holding a paper-brown-bag, “I come bringing you a dinner!”
“And pray tell,” Placing down an expensive fountain-pen she hold on her right hand next to the medical-report till few moments ago she examined, “when the last time you come personally into my office with a dinner, Harry dear?” Jane asked evenly, hiding a smirk as Harry looks remorse and pouting again.
Jane Granger is someone who gives a birth to his genius friend, Hermione Granger. Someone who raised such brilliant girl into a respectable witch known with her brilliance and good manners as a single-parent, facing all the magical things her daughter gone through and even taking part of a war that breakout threatening to bring Britain magical or non-magical administration to dust with victims from both sides. That and many other things Harry could sense Jane still not says, not even to her one and only child. Of course Jane Granger is not someone who would miss the little details let alone got tricked. If anything, the beautiful brunette that actually has her brown hairs dyed is one of the most observant people Harry ever knows.
But Harry has something no one has. That is the pair of startling emerald eyes, even he grew up already he never losing the shy-shy boy look and an ability to look like a puppy, an impressive deed he mastered once he learned he could get everything he wants from one particular Hermione Granger, many women included. And the genius-witch’s mother is not an exception.
Even Jane pressed her lips thinly as if she is angry, Harry could see the thick walls crumbling down, fast. ‘Like mother, like daughter or in this case ‘like daughter, like mother.’’ Mentally he chuckles wickedly as the long-eyelashes fluttered closed and Jane reached up pinching the bridge of her nose, quietly saying, “I want my dinner.”
Practically erupting in cheers inside his head Harry beamed. “Sure.” Jane rolled her eyes sighing tiredly knowing he is playing his card too well, too goddamn well as a matter of fact and knew his arrival in her office must be something related over a request. Now she thinks about it… Jane could guess what kind of request he wants her to fill.
(-*-)
Halfway eating her dinner Jane took a sip of the chamomile tea Harry bought for her, its delicious taste working for her stressed nerves relaxing her taut muscles especially that placed on the back of her neck. “I got a feeling it is useless to ask a formal procedure that involving an official form of whatever ask you want me to do,” Jane peered up over the paper-cup taking another sip of her tea to calm her nerve on the guilty-on-spot grin Harry gives her with. Curse that boyish and innocent-shy-shy look this child born with. ‘No wonder my daughter very well smitten by him since the day they met,’ Jane thought and asks, “What you want then?”
“Do you have a foreign patient since last night?” Harry asked bluntly, something he learned from Hermione that no Granger’s members take it patiently when someone sweet-talking them while hiding a big-fat agenda. They always noticed it. Thus, not only it is useless, a waste of time, but irritated any members of Granger to no end. Learning his lesson well, Harry waited patiently keeping his innocent look while Jane’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Apparently, caught off guard by such… question… “You do know this is the General Hospital in entire London, yes?” Jane asked, lowering the cup of paper and openly looking at him incredulously.
“I am aware of it.” Harry said humbly, again another lesson he learned from his days knowing his Hermione, never act arrogant around her or any other Granger, it result nothing but irritation from any of them.
“And you do know,” slowly swiveling her chair to allow Jane looking at him in better angle, “London is one of the cities in this world that have a number of tourists every day.”
“That I am too aware of it.” Harry nodded his head seeing much-lighter shade of brown orbs hardening he quickly added, “someone who got wounded, preferably from the United States.” He hid his own surprise why he suddenly blurts the last parts out but seeing the surprise flickering inside auburn-orbs before him, Harry’s own eyes sharpening. “Aunt Jane?” Harry paused trying to read what the Head of the Hospital tried to hide… oh he know what she hid, the problem is how to bring that out? He studied his friend’s mother carefully, trying to read what was going on behind that beautiful, impassive face... trying to tease some meaning from the smoldering auburn eyes that could darken drastically into dark-chocolate orbs depending on emotion Jane felt and met his gaze equably. Unblinkingly, fearlessly, with a subtle hint of challenge, defying his wish and just like her daughter, Jane is one of only a few people who could face the famous ‘The Man-Who-Survive’ looking at him as who he is and not whom he becomes. Why, Harry has no doubt for Jane and Hermione Granger he is always a boy who needs a loving-care from them. Not that his mind, au contrary, he craved such loving and affections and from them he got what he desired and yet, never have it on his childhood day.
‘...And really, who am I kidding?’ He thought, with dry humor. Reading Jane Granger is just about as easy as reading Egyptian: squiggly line, eye, jug, something-that-looks-like-a-owl that Harry found somewhat amusingly befit any members of Granger, and another squiggly line... to give a pressure without the lady before he felt threatened, for Harry had his own shares of how a feline have more than claws but fangs to tear him apart, let alone a female-feline at that. “I didn’t ask anything sans for you to point out where this person stayed, Aunt Jane. I won’t bring any harm to the hospital. No fight. No battle.” He paused to take a breath. “There was something that bothers me. I just wanted to check did this person related to some mysterious event happening in Diagon Alley last night.”
Jane gives a slow blink. She knew him. She knew Harry for far too long that she looked at him like a son she never have. And she knew from her daughter or from her personal experience, Harry would never cross his own words. Let alone to bring dangers to innocent people, even they are nothing but strangers; he would never do such thing. ‘But that means you cross a rule,’ her conscious told her though once she replayed his words Jane stiffened slightly and her eyes take a sharp look. “Something mysterious happening in Diagon Alley last night?” she inquired earning a firm nod from Harry. “It’s still under investigation, limited.” He looked away uncomfortably playing with his thumbs that any other day would entertain Jane Granger to no end how the childish trait still there. That… or shuffling with his shoes…
“It’s related to someone in the list’?” she asked carefully, knowing Harry understand her subtle question. The list she brings up inside her question after all is how she referred the Most Wanted Criminals with their notorious crime in previous wars that still roaming freely, running away from the laws and their chasers. Jane is aware the man before her is one of those chasers, one man they fear the most.
Harry stiffened for a second before forcing his body to relax not wanting to give the wrong alarm. “I am not sure.” He replied diplomatically. “However,” a pause he stretched his senses making sure the office is safe. He knew Hermione had used her own power and knowledge from Hogwarts to strengthen the security of the places where her mother spends most of her times namely their house and Jane’s office. Pleased the ward is intact and no one is closer than a few hundred feet from the office, “some of my Aurors brought up a quite sore topic of people who come close to the Crime-Scene,” Harry looked up meeting Jane’s gaze unflinchingly, “One of them was the Ministry of Magic herself.”
Saying Jane is floored is an underestimated words of the century. So surprise she is, Jane leaned back into her chair, her right arm across her front propping up her left elbow while having her chin between crooked left index finger and thumb. “Amelia?” She asked thoughtfully.
“Yes.” Harry nodded his head again, knowing Jane is quite famous with most wizards and witches after taking part in the previous war and have close-friendship with the Ministry and her wife.
Tapping her lips, Jane spent ten seconds only to have a mental battle before she gives a slow nod. “Derek Jameson.” Jane said quietly while Harry perked up his ears as she went on. “31 years old, an American, sent into our hospital fifteen to twenty minutes before midnight.” She didn’t even flinch as Harry reached into his pocket producing a black leather pocket-book he flipped open with his left thumb and pulled out a pen from thin air with his right hand, begin jotting down her information. “What happen to him?” He asked, now using his Auror’s voice when questioning someone albeit it is considerably farther quiet and respectful.
“He got injured on his left thigh, five inches above his knee.” Harry isn’t surprise even Jane isn’t an active doctor anymore due her job as the Head of the Hospital far more demanding, she still know lots of things happens inside her hospital and could memorize every of patients illness or injuries that sent here. Nodding his head few times, “do you know why?” he looked up without a pause on his task.
“No.” Jane frowned slightly, tapping her lips again. “I must admit his injuries caught my interest.” Seeing him cocking his head to the side in puzzlement, a small smile played on her lips as Jane explains to him. “When he was admitted to this hospital last night, his injuries are small, on the surface.” She moved her left fingers positioning her left thumb and index-fingers not an inch apart. “Only this big, however, inside a close inspection I saw he got a scar. It’s still red.”
“Fresh wound.” Harry guessed knowingly.
“Mmm,” nodding her head in approval, “it was quite large,” Jane mused. “Three inches down and two inches up, and he suffered a mild case of a blood-loss.”
Harry’s eyebrows jumped up. “… Someone healed him magically?”
“The possibility is high,” Jane confirmed. “I of course do not comment on such thing. I know the procedure of memory-alteration so I was chalking it up that he was simply an unfortunate non-magical person caught in heated-crossfire between wizards or witches.” She pressed her lips thinly as she remembered more details of the particular patient. “Strange thing was…” she met Harry’s questioning gaze with confusion. “… His identity showed he is a member of the United States’s military personnel.”
Harry fought not to choke on his own spit. “The United States’s military personnel?” On her nodding head he pressed a bit, barely keeping his voice free from sharpness. “Is it true? I mean, was he paid the hospital’s expenses by his own moneys?”
Knowing where this question leading, for if the man paid with his own moneys by all means he is a tourist but if he isn’t, that means only one thing. “No Harry.” Jane answered his question quietly. “His insurance paid it, or in this case I must say the United States’s embassy paid it.”
Harry was speechless and Jane let him have his time to wrap his mind around that biggest blaring clue, Derek Jameson, the patient she got last night is in the United Kingdom, in London, not as a tourist but to work. And with such blaring fact the man received a magical treatment over his wound and from what Harry knows no crimes that involving a non-magical person last night reported by his Aurors that only left one place. That man, Derek Jameson, U.S. Military Personnel possible to be involved in the mysterious event that take place inside the Diagon Alley, probably… with the Ministry of Magic close to the area.
One question is answered but more questions popping up. Why that foreign-soldier went there? How he could go to a place that restricted only for magical-people and people related to them or perhaps they, who permitted to go in and out such Jane. But for such people, Harry as a person who worked as the Head of Auror is the one who gives such permission approved by the Deputy of Minister, his friend Hermione Granger herself. Yet Harry knew how many people in such short list in details, and certainly he know, not even Hermione ever give permission to a foreigner. Non-magical… and a soldier at that.
So more questions of who done it? Was he related to the Wizarding Community in the United States? But why he got treated in a non-magical hospital then? As if… he didn’t want to be noticed… “Aunt Jane.” Closing his notepad Harry blinked as Jane have a knowing smile, “7th floor, take left corridor once you exited the elevator and take right turn on the first intersection, his room is located at the end of the corridor on your left side.”
A “Thank you” and Jane stares to an empty chair before she looked up to see the door to her office closing, shaking her head in amusement, “Youth,” she picked up her teacup and take a sip of now a cold liquid and cringe slightly, frowning too. “… I hope this is not a way to tell me another hell lurking around the corner…” she sighed tiredly and decided once she finished her dinner she will return home, check on her daughter before get some needed rest.
(-*-)
(Bones’s Manor)
After taking a shower Andy exited the bathroom wearing a large shirt and collapsed on the four-poster bed, exhausted. She was already dozing when there was a knock on the door of her bedroom, “come in,” she opened her eyes groggily looking for the person entering the dim bedroom. Once the person crossing the bedroom approaching her bed and the table-lamp placed on a nightstand on the right side of the four-poster bed, a smile formed on Andy’s lips as the soft-light from the lamp illuminating her sister’s beautiful face. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Susan sat on the edge of the bed smiling lovingly to her sister. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“Me is fine.” Andy shifted and scooted away to different sides of the bed and pats the space she occupied few moments ago. “Get in.”
Giggling like a giddy-girl Susan slipped off her feet from the fluffy-sandals she used and slipped under the comforter, placing the pillows against the headboard Susan half-sitting and half-lying on the bed smiling at Andy scooted closer resting her head on Susan’s lap purring in delight as her sister stroking her hairs.
Not wanting to put more stress to her sister who barely collecting herself from emotional-breakdown in the dinner, “… was she pretty like you?” Susan asked quietly looking down to one doe-eye peering up from behind few loose brown-strands. “Or like moms? Which one? The ever so gentle, but could be so stern and daring to her wife? Or the strict-lady but turned out quite whipped by her wife?” Susan joked giggling as Andy barked out a laugh. “Nah, she’s different from them.”
“Not even me?” Susan batted her eyelashes giggling harder as Andy pinched her left knee playfully. “Nope, not even you,” she replied her little sister so maturely by sticking out her tongue winning merry laughter from the younger of the two.
“That’s hurting, sis.” Susan feigned a hurt look. “Not even look like her beautiful aunt?”
“You wish.” Andy snorted playfully, rolling around she lay across the bed with her head on Susan’s lap, gazing up to the ceiling with a fond smile. “Alexandra… has dual-eyes, Susie.”
“Really?” Susan looked genuinely interested.
“Yeah. A light brown-red orb nearly crimson as her right eye and an icy-blue for her left. Her hairs are black, as black as the night sky but when sun is up and bask her with its lights, her hairs turned blue-black like got dyed.” Andy’s eyes half-closed as the image of her daughter play inside her mind, “her skin is so white, not pale, not unhealthy, but as white as a snow… I think, if she grow up, she would be like mother in her youth.”
“My, many hearts would skip too many beats if that's true,” Susan giggled lightly as Andy joined hers. Both knew even till now, men and not small numbers of women still eying their mother the Headmistress of Hogwarts with improper thoughts inside their heads that Minerva seems oblivious of it much to her wife’s jealousy and frustrations. Minerva McGonagall was born with such classic beauty that very rare to be found. A sophisticated gorgeousness that showed all the blue-bloods lineages she has within her veins. Something that she inherited from her mother and most women of the McGonagall’s household. Aside of their clever brain, astuteness, sternness, a lady-through and through, is the fantastic noblest-like exterior. With black-jet raven hairs that slightly wavy cascading down to her back likes black-silky curtains framing such striking visage, tall form and many people says the Headmistress have a body to die for, slender with perfect curves all in right places that under her robes teasing the onlookers to gives double-takes not only to her gorgeous visage but to her body too, and when she still wearing the Hogwarts’s uniform. Well, let just say, even female populations if not turned green with envy joined their counterparts, drooling on the sidelines.
It is not a trouble at all for the siblings to have imagined how they Ma fall head over heels so easily to their mother even when both met Minerva already losing the glow of her youth albeit notably exceptionally slower than other women. For even now… even students in Hogwarts that reasonably young and have no idea at all over Minerva’s image in all glory of her youth, still developing huge crushes over their Headmistress. One particular genius brunette-witches were one of them, and by rumors that still unconfirmed, the mother of the Man-Who-Survived too have such deep crush.
“So little Alexandra is more alike to mother?” Susan asked, feeling more curious.
“Yes.” Andy hummed. Neither Susan nor Andy inherited such beauty; Andy took her grandfather’s brown-hairs and Susan’s great-great grandmother’s brown doe-eyes and beauty. While Susan got Amelia and Minerva’s eyes in a mix, she mostly has all the Bones’s females’ gentle visage, beautiful and overall quite adorable. It seems the more sophisticated-genes skip a generation to be inherited by Andy’s daughter, Alexandra. However, perhaps because the genes skipped a generation, such exquisite works its splendor in vengeance as Andy confessed to Susan how even she still an infant Alexandra’s attractiveness already resurfacing for the entire world to see, admire and worship. Andy didn’t say it to Susan about how the rest of the Runway and many models already wrapped around those little fingers of her daughter’s, one particular famous Italian designer is one of her victims on the first day of her coming out to the public nonetheless.
“Oh my.” Susan let loose a shaky breath, apparently deep inside her own imagination trying to envision her niece’s face. “I wished to see her.” She said wistfully. “Neville’s grandmother, Grandma Augusta kept saying how she needed to stay on her husband’s side to make sure he didn’t suddenly have an amnesia he have a wife and a grandchild already and decided to chase mother.”
“Oh I do remember that! And she still did it?” Andy laughed, hard as Susan giggling uncontrollably. “Oh she surely still did it. Amazingly mother still oblivious as ever of such fact, that even now she still has flocks of fans-club.”
“Oh please!” Andy laughed harder. “She didn’t even aware back then, in all glory and splendor of youth!”
“Indeed.” Susan tittered. “Ma always says mother is so incredibly genius, so smart and so serious that to balance it, she has nearly zero ability over many fields, romance included.”
“Yeah, no wonder Ma needs to shove her into the nearest broom-closet and ravished h-er,” Andy stopped abruptly blushing horribly with Susan already got a full body blush, both siblings tormented by several traumatizing images when they caught the couple red-handed in time Andy still attending Hogwarts and become a prefect followed by the Head Girl and do her patrol mostly with her sister inside those notorious brooms-closets. Some that not too traumatizing images but leave little to imagination of what their mothers doing in that very place involved very red Minerva pressed up against the wall of the tiny cubicle with her wife’s hands weren’t in view… but both girls back then could see very well why those hands weren’t in view. While the most traumatizing images, let just say it’s involving more flesh to be seen and their mother, the strict professor back then, always look like someone got thoroughly fuck for next lifetime and their Ma who usually proper and have her own strictness got a HUGE Cheshire cat grin as if she just found flocks of canaries and thoroughly enjoying… them.
“Argh, stop that!” Andy clutched her head dramatically shaking her head side-to-side. “I cannot look to any of them for entire month squared on eyes each time I caught them inside those accursed places!”
“You are the one who start it!” Susan cried out altering to cover her own embarrassment and fanning her face hoping she didn’t cook her brain alive. That and hitting her sister’s arm or shoulder as her punishment to bring such traumatizing images into her mind.
(-*-)
Lying on her right side on the bed she shared with her wife Minerva arched her eyebrows hearing the giggles and laughter of her daughters now turned into cries and mock arguments, she could make out a few of their words and her sleepy mind didn’t work to hinder her to blink back her sleepiness trying to connect few words she caught. “‘Caught them inside those accursed places?’” She repeated what Andy has said, unknowingly to her, quite aloud inside the silent manor. She feels instead seeing the sudden sensation of eyes on her and not a second later a familiar feminine-form pressed to her back with her wife’s voice thick with desire hotly whispering, “methinks they were reminiscing the times when they caught us few times in rather compromising position, sweetheart.”
She is not a woman who could easily let someone go under her mask, but for her wife, Minerva didn’t need to be surprised how her face grow so hot.
(--**--)
Author Notes: As usual, if you like to leave a review please leave a review. If you didn’t like, leave my story alone. I’m sorry for the late update, my life went suck here far across the world, and because the collapse of the charcoal-price, I didn’t get paid for two months now as the company where I worked through my dad’s consultant firm me is one of his three staff only, is in financial crisis. ~_~ life is suck… Ihix.