𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

Chapter 13

The eccentric old lady sat inside her wagon, her little travelling home, her grandson outside driving the horses to their next destination. The aged woman was short, slightly chubby with long grey hair, her eyes clouded with thick cataracts, the sight gone from them for years now and her face lined with wrinkles. Rather than making her look like an ugly crone, they added character to her kindly face and others often trusted her immediately upon meeting her. She went by the name of Granny to everyone as no one knew her real name any longer. Sometimes Granny couldn't remember herself, it had been so long since anyone had called her by her given name.

She wore the long, colourful skirts of the gypsy, of which she was, one of the few remaining ones in this modern world if the truth be told. In their caravan was the rest of her family, her son, Sean of sixty years, his wife, Elizabeth and their two adult sons, William and George.

William, the eldest at forty three had one child; twenty two year old Cassandra who looked much like her Granny did when the old woman was the same age. The younger woman inherited the dark, cascading wavy hair and the brilliant blue eyes of her grandmother. Cassandra's mother had left when the girl had been around the age of seven, not willing or able to continue the hard life of the travelling gypsy.

George was lighthearted and cheerful, carefree to the point of frivolity, which annoyed Granny. The man had just turned forty and had yet to grow up. He was so unlike his serious and contemplative older brother who could always be counted on.

The woman of indeterminate age snuggled the blankets around the already tightly swaddled unconscious blonde teenaged boy that William had found lying on the ground while he had been out hunting, although the local constabulary would have actually termed it poaching.

William had almost missed the lad as he had been hidden under a dusting of snow that covered his half naked body that was now lying in her small bed. Granny brushed the blonde hair back from the angelic face, feeling again the strange aura within the boy.

'He has the gift,' Granny thought to herself. She too had what she called the gift, not like what she felt emanating off this young boy, but she could often tell what others were feeling and she had an eighty-five percent success rate when divining from the tarot. Sometimes she would have prophetic dreams.

Her tarot deck was a special item, made especially for her by Elizabeth. It had Braille markings on it so she would be able to read, something she genuinely enjoyed doing. She could also see auras, not in the physical sense, but in her minds eye and could sometimes influence them in others to heal their bodies or spirits. This young one, though, had quite the aura and she could feel it tingling against her old fingers as she continued to stroke the child's head.

Her gift had been a double edged sword to her, a blessing and a curse. Many sought out her services, wanting to know their futures. Others were fearful of her and would shun her or try to run her and her family off, often times quite violently. She had been glad that none of her immediate family had been burdened with the gift. She had not passed it down to any of them. In a way she felt relief they would not have to endure the prejudices she had had to, but it also made her sad that there wasn't another she could teach her skills to or understand how she felt at times.

She knew this boy was a run-away. From the looks of him he was more than likely running away from an abusive parent. 'Feels like the father,' the old woman spoke to herself, letting her aura mix with this young one's, catching glimpses of stone cold, grey eyes set in a stern face. She wondered if like her, his gift had been cause for the abuse, the family not wanting to accept the unknown in their son.

"Poor child," she muttered softly. "You've had a hard life, Granny knows. Granny can feel your

sadness and pain, but we'll make it all better," she soothed. The old woman smiled gently. It had been so long since anyone had really needed her that she had often felt quite useless and a burden for her family. Then out of the blue this wounded angel appeared; this boy on the cusp of manhood that needed her and her talents. "God has sent you to me to heal, my broken sparrow," she told Draco as she caressed his cheek. "Granny will take good care of you and give you your wings again."