Journey

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Tina looked up at the ship looming above her. It floated on the water along the wharf, a gangplank connecting it to the ground. She glanced around. The once crowded dock was much clearer as people were boarding their ships.

Sighing, she turned back to the ship before her. A far away look appeared on her face.

The last time I stood here was when--

Her thought was interrupted by the ship's horn. Realizing what she had been thinking, she scowled. She quickly lowered her hand which she had absentmindedly raised to touch the hair by her right ear. Why did I have to think of that?

Tightening her grip on the handle of her suitcase, she took a deep breath and started forward. She climbed up the gangplank and disappeared into the ship.

A few minutes later, she found herself staring into a small room with two bunks. A young woman with blond hair was hovering over the bed on the far wall, taking things out of her suitcase. She looked up when Tina entered.

"You must be the one I'm sharing a room with," she observed.

"Yeah, I guess," Tina said absentmindedly. She stepped into the room and set her suitcase on the other bed.

"My name is Rose Carraway. What's yours?"

"Tina Goldstein," she replied quietly. "You're going to London?"

"Yes, I"m visiting family. You?"

"I'm only spending one night in London. I'm on my way to Paris," Tina explained. "For work."

"Ah, I see. Well, you might want to unpack a bit. You'll be spending four nights on this ship."

Tina nodded. She turned and undid the latches on her suitcase, lifting the lid. Something toppled out, sliding off the bed and clattering to the floor. Leaning down, she scooped the book off the ground. She turned it over and let out a sigh as she ran a finger over the gold words embossed on the blue cover.

She absentmindedly traced the gold patterns on the cover, lost in memories of that one wonderful week the year before. Her eyes were fixed on the cover but she didn't see it. Her gaze was unfocused but there was a clear picture in her mind.

Unruly, tousled, reddish-brown hair falling into deep, blue eyes; eyes that could look green or even gold depending on the way they caught the light. A suntanned face, covered in thousands of freckles, and a tiny scar on the bridge of his nose.

A figure wearing a clean, white shirt beneath a mustard yellow waistcoat. His brown jacket, matching the brown pants who's ends were usually tucked into worn, buckled boots. Around his neck, a small bowtie, dark blue with flecks of white, and occasionally a yellow and grey striped scarf. And the most distinctive article of clothing: the coat. That beautiful woolen coat, colored a brilliant peacock blue, that hangs open on his slender frame, fitting him perfectly and complimenting his eyes. The sleeves coming down to his wrists; the edge, like the opening of the pockets, protected by a bit of leather, resting against his hands.

His hands. Hands that look rough and calloused from working in his case. Hands that are soft and smooth, warm and gentle when Apparating. Hands that had fought. Hands that had cared for injured creatures, gently nursing them back to health.

And clutched in those hands, the handle of a case. Who would he be without that battered, leather case? The case that contains a wonderful, magical world, home to beautiful, fantastic creatures; creatures that meant everything to him.

Tina's fingers danced across his name, carefully tracing the beautiful letters. A few tears escaped her eyes, splashing on the cover. She gently wiped them away before reaching up to rub her eyes.

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