This Time, Last Time (A Harry Potter Universe Fanfiction)

Raigan and Dawson: An Abbreviated History

She is the sweetest thing that I know,

Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low,

Shakes my soul like a pothole every time.

Took my heart upon on a one way trip,

Guess she wandering off with it,

Unlike other women I know,

This one will bring it back home.

-"Hearts Don't Break Around Here," Ed Sheeran

August 2004

Raigan arrived precisely ten minutes earlier than James asked her to, as always. She let herself into his apartment, calling out, "I'm here."

"Hey, Rai," James called out from the bathroom. "Just give me one sec, gotta brush my teeth." The ministry's end-of-summer work party was that evening and Anna wasn't able to be there as she'd gone back home to celebrate her brother's birthday. James had pretended to be bummed but was secretly relieved, because he didn't have much experience spending time with Anna in public. Their interactions were mostly limited to her bedroom, whether or not James liked to admit it.

Raigan, on the other hand... frankly, there was no one he was more comfortable with. She had been his best friend since he was twelve years old and also happened to be the only girl he'd ever tried to befriend without turning it into a short-lived relationship.

When he came out into the living room, Raigan was sitting in his most uncomfortable armchair with her legs crossed, flipping through his latest issue of QMag as though she had any interest in quidditch besides hunting for pictures of Michael Scrivner, whom she had long harbored a celebrity crush on.

"Found him," she said, with a little raise of her eyebrows. Sure enough, she'd opened to the center of the magazine with a full page spread of Scrivner flying up the camera. His photo winked at her and zoomed away again.

James grinned. "You're unbelievable."

She just shrugged, set the magazine down, still open to Scrivner's picture, and stood up. She wore her dark hair up in a ponytail and was dressed in a black and white striped t-shirt dress.

"You look nice," said James. He was glad she hadn't worn robes either. It was late August and the temperature was sweltering.

"Thanks," said Raigan. She was the only girl he knew that didn't follow up the compliment with some variation on 'You don't think it's too (fill in the blank here),' which always drove him crazy, because if he didn't think a girl looked nice, why would he say she did?

"You ready to go?" she asked.

"Yep, let's do it."

---

The Ministry had booked a very large outdoor venue for the event, which meant the Obliviators would likely enjoy little of the party. James and Raigan had only just arrived when, right in front of where they'd apparated, a tall witch pointed her wand straight at the nose of a muggle man holding a roll of salmon-colored raffle tickets. "Obliviate," she said firmly, and his eyes slid out of focus and back again.

With a contented smile on his face, he said, "Evening ma'am. Like to enter the raffle?"

James led Raigan over to the magically-enlarged, open-air tent where a live jazz band played and many witches and wizards were lined up to get drinks. They fell into the end of the line, and James looked around, pointing out people he worked with until an old acquaintance from school, who worked in the Department of Magical Transportation, joined the line behind them.