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One for Sorrow
The London day is grey, and my best friend is dead.
The Clearwater girl was only the first.
The Clearwater Remains
Dark hair and laughing eyes flashing through my dreams, hiding in the bend of a corridor, the remains of Penelope vanishing into the ancient stones of Hogwarts.
My mother's funeral was held here: she was a Londoner, born within the peals of the Bow bells as she often laughed to me as we passed down the way.
Two for Joy
I wonder if the magpies are keeping a nest there, perhaps collecting coins and little shiny trinkets to clutch close to themselves. As I walk home, the magpie nursery rhyme rings in my mind, like it did the day Penelope died and a single magpie fluttered across my path.
Secrets and Mysteries
The fact of the matter is that it takes me a few days to figure out where I heard the name Christian Haynes before.
Mr. Weasley sighs, massaging his forehead with his fingertips.
The Legend of the Gemini Crowns
It is not until lunchtime the next day that I remember about the mysterious book and note left outside my door.
Three For A Girl
It is with not with entirely unpleasant surprise that I find my eyes adjusting to the bright light trickling through George Weasley’s rather ragged drapes.
Barriers of Skin
Because I am my father's child, the clients and merchants and colleagues owe me the respect to give me a chance. But it is more than blood, it is worth: since leaving Hogwarts, I have earned that respect as a judge of quality and authenticity, as skilled in negotiating prices, in running the shop and making sales. I have pledged my life and my passion to the shop: and truthfully, without my mother, without Penelope or Sebastian, I have little else to keep my life consistent.
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