The Doe

Return to Hogwarts

My eyes followed Caldwell as he paced before me, the fingertips on his left hand caressing his chin.

"So you said the plastic just melted?" he asked, gesturing around with his other hand.

"Yeah, it was like my palms were pre-heated," I told him, watching as he shook his head.

"This doesn't make any sense, you had perfect control earlier and James told me about last night with the fire, it just..."

He stopped pacing and looked at me briefly, before continuing his stride.

"You're too young to have undergone anything that could have hindered your ability to control the elements, you're a muggleborn, yes, but that doesn't mean anything. You haven't been jinxed as far as I know, you're not an Animagus, because I've seen the Ministry's files.."

My eyes widened as he carried on listing reasons, my mouth dropping open as realisation hit me.

"Caldwell, I'm an unregistered animagus."

He turned to face me, narrowing his eyes before laughing.

"Don't be ridiculous, that's against the law," he told me as if I didn't already know.

I gulped, looking down at the floor briefly.

"Oh for the love of Merlin, forgive me Ancestor for using your name in vain. What were you thinking?" he hissed, stepping closer like he was scared the wind would carry away the information.

"With respect, at the age of 15 I didn't exactly know I'd be doing this 2 years later," I sent back, folding my arms across my chest defensively.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

"It's ok, it'll be ok," he muttered, almost reassuring himself, "you're just going to have to work harder to learn to control your magic. We shall begin now."

5 months later:

The cottage was just as I remembered. The green vines slowly twisting around the bricks, the flowerbeds blooming with an array of yellow, pink and white blossoms. I felt a hand intertwine with mine, my eyes looking to my left to see the smiling face of Prongs; stubble lining his jaw, his hair falling further over his eyes than ever. I smiled, reaching my index finger up to his forehead, brushing the hair from his gaze.

"Nervous?" he asked, rubbing my hand with his thumb.

I shrugged, sighing. My gaze landed on the window of my old bedroom, the wind blowing in my hair. I felt James' hand circle around my face, pulling me to his as he planted a kiss to my temple.

"You'll be ok, it's just the other guys," he murmured against my skin.

I nodded again, gripping onto his hand tighter.

"Just the guys," I whispered almost to myself.

James took the lead, gently pulling me behind him as encouragement. I watched his left hand push open the light wooden backdoor, the scent of freshly baked bread greeting my nose.

"Is anyone home?" called James as I closed the back door behind us, searching the room for signs of life with my gaze.

A rustle from the kitchen alerted us to a presence, Nicolas momentarily emerging from the room.

"Madison, James! Lovely to see you again," he smiled, shuffling over to us.

I frowned slightly: he seemed frailer than I remembered him looking a few months ago. He reached us and grasped my hand in his thin one, looking into my eyes.