Magic, as you may know, is quite an extraordinary thing. But not any little bit of magic can explain this.
~*~
Hazel Potter, Rosalie Weasley, and Henry Granger don't quite understand why and where they are-they can't find the rest of the Weasleys an...
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She stared out the window, observing as each rain droplet hit the widow. It had been raining all day. As much as she adored her companions, nothing truly compared to being with them. Delphi, sensing her deteriorating mood, placed a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies and hot tea in front of her. Delphi sat with the teenager wordlessly. She knew at this point that there were no words that would actually console her. So the two sat and watched. And waited. Waited for her saviors. Someone who hadn't given up on her. Someone who could somehow figure out where. Mancos.
~.~
George and Marcella had roomed at a Bed and Breakfast near the alley for the night before searching again. There was so much ground to cover in America, but the only thing he could do was keep searching and try to remain optimistic.
It was particularly chilly that morning. Their first stop was a local library, to see if they had any information they wouldn't have found at Marcella's business. hey found nothing of the sort, however they did find a book on how to fold origami flowers that George was keen on. They ended up buying the book from the owner with some persuasion. Marcella desperately wanted to question him, but she decided against it. It was clearly his coping mechanism, and she didn't want to overstep her boundaries.
After their failure in that part of the city, they traveled to a more magical side of Philly. George could only hope to find more information here, at least. Just a sliver of something. Just one lead to help him find her and prove them all wrong.
They arrived at the small knick-knack shop on the corner of downtown. A small bell ran as they stepped inside, warmth immediately engulfing them. The woman behind the counter, who the to could only assume was the owner, gave them a homely smile. She was a sweet-looking older woman, instantly reminding George of his mother. A feeling of homesickness overtook him, but he reminded himself how important this journey actually was.
Marcella roamed the store, opting to take a look around the shop while George ventured to ask the woman some questions. As he approached, the shopkeeper's face seemed to change. He couldn't quite figure out why, until she spoke to him.
"You seek the girl you've lost...the river she has crossed, the park she has walked...George?" Her eyes misted over slightly, but her eyebrows were still furrowed, letting George know she hadn't completely snapped into oracle mode.
"Yes...every-everyone keeps telling me she's dead but I just know-" his voice begins to crack, and he takes a moment to steady himself before continuing. "I know she's alive. Her death was too easy. They gave up too easy. I just need...something. Anything that would point me in the correct direction," George pleaded with the woman, not realizing just how desperate he sounded until after he had finished his sentence.
Her smile was sad as she nodded and walked into the backroom. Marcella approached the red-haired man, placing a hand on his arm. In her hand, she held a necklace, and gently placed it in the palm of George's. The lady from behind the counter returned and placed an object on the counter before them.
