Time And A Word| TUA

018

018: letters to Hermione

༊*·

Harper sat in the office, across the Timothy, Aimee downstairs with one of the assistants that Harper knew, looking after her. 

"It's just that I don't want to be a burden to anyone," Harper said. "I don't want to say I can be in one place and get stuck."

He nodded. "So, a week? Two?"

She thought for a minute. "Two, to be safe, if that's okay."

He nodded again, and wrote something down in a notebook. "I can sort it. I hope everyone's okay."

"Yeah, they are now, I guess, it's just . . . you know."

"Not skipping out to go see Kennedy, are you?"

". . . If you're there and you see me, I swear I'm just helping my idiotic brother in law. He's sick and . . . yeah."

He sniggered. "It was a joke, but alright."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. You work to live, not live to work. No need to every apologize to me."

She nodded. "So-sor- I'll shut up."

He closed the book on his desk, crossing his legs over each other as he leaned back. "You wanna talk about it?"

She kind of did, but not with him. Or maybe she did want to talk about it with him. She didn't know. The world ending was much more frightening this time. She wasn't in a strange trance like she was last time, since the war had just ended and she was suddenly leading a very different life. This time, she was living just like she had been. The life she'd created, not just to live, but the child she created was a risk. And now, after losing and finding everyone again, the fear of losing them, knowing what it felt like to think they were dead, was horrific, floating above her head like a cloud over Eeyore.

"No." She shook her head, plastering a fake smile on her face. "No, I've got my family, so."

"I thought your family were in California. Did they all fly over, or-"

"In-laws."

"Aimee's father?"

"Sister's boyfriend."

"Right. So, the worst type of inlaws." He chuckled. "I remember when my sister got married. In laws controlled the entire wedding, walked her down the aisle - it was a mess."

"Similar with my parents. They wanted to be married in Greece."

"In laws ruined it?"

She nodded. "But these guys are good, you know. I love them, Aimee likes one of them and enjoys throwing things at the rest, so . .  . it'll be all good."

"Alright. Well if you need any support, I'm here. And I don't just mean for work, you know. Take as much time as you need, I can help in whatever way I can. Babysitting Aimee, just being there, shoulder to lean on, someone to talk to. I want to help."

" . . . Thanks."

He looked at her for a moment, as they sat in silence, before he licked his lips and sat up. 

"Alright. Guess we should be going, then." 

She nodded, getting to her feet and shaking his hand. "Thank you, again."

"No problem." He kept a hold of her hand. "And I am here if you need anything."

"I'll be back two weeks at the latest."

"Don't sweat it." He looked at his hand, still holding her gloved one, and let go quickly. "Have a good day, Harper."

She nodded her head, and turned, making her way out of the room. 

༊*·

"Look," Allison's voice came through the phone, as Harper sat on the floor in her kitchen, wired phone to her ear. "I've made everything good with Ray, and he says I'm fine to watch Aimee for a bit. Just go over there."

"Allison, I love the guy, but I don't want to meet Klaus's weird ass cult." Harper responded, as she tilted her head, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, painting her nails on her tight-covered knees, shoes left by the door as Aimee napped in her room. "I think they'd be a nightmare."

"Yeah, but, you know Klaus when he's drunk, right? I think you should talk to him."

"I think I should stay away from him because he's starting to remind me of someone." 

Allison sighed. "What if the cult's cool?"

"Allison, have you ever seen my ankle?"

"No."

"Exactly. I'm not a sex cult kind of girl."

"You say that, but you hooked up with someone in a war and now you've got a child."

"That was a different me."

"Sure."

"Are you saying you think I'd enjoy fucking people I don't know who probably have thirty thousand STDs, and I'm not even going to mention the kinks."

"Alright, just stay away from them and stick by Klaus."

"You've never been to a bar with him, have you?"

"Oh, God. I don't want to know, do I?"

There was a knock at the door. 

"I gotta go, post time. We'll gossip before the world ends, don't worry."

"We better!"

They hung up, and Harper sighed, making her way to the front door. 

"Hey, dude." 

"Got three letters for Harper Karpman?" The postman handed them to her. 

"Thank you."

She shut the door with her foot, the guy already halfway down the driveway, looking at one letter that was about a overdue library book, and another that was hand written, the back saying the return address was for Timothy. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, and was about to open it, her finger getting halfway down the opening when she saw the other note.

A plain envelope, with not address or name. Just a gold sticker holding it closed. 

She dropped the other one, and opened the plain one instead. It was on thick paper, a black border on it, and a small umbrella at the top of the page, written below it 'from the office of Sir Reginald Hargreeves.' The wrest of the letter was printed, too.

'To my pursuers:

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, at half past seven o'clock.

*1624 Magnolia Street, Dallas, Texas.'