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Disclaimer: I still own nothing you'd want. Roswell belongs to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, Fox, UPN, et al. Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, et al.
The situation is my idea. A million thanks to my Beta, Duchess67. She and Greta are my first fans.
Rating: TEEN
Spoilers/Authors Note: This starts out after Destiny and before Season 2 of Roswell. In the Harry Potter world this takes place after the Goblet of Fire. If you are not familiar with Harry Potter, you will likely be confused at first. They are worth reading if you haven't. Semi-AU.
George stood behind Liz watching the scene play out in front of them. Both Kyle and Liz seemed to be in shock, staring at the woman in front of them as if trying to remember where they had seen her before. He looked closer himself. Besides the black eye she was sporting there really was nothing that remarkable about the woman.
Then Kyle gasped out that one word that changed everything, “Mom?”
Liz gasped.
George watched the woman’s eyes. Fear, shame and a touch of pride ran across her face. She squirmed a little, fidgeting with the sleeves of her robes while Kyle confronted her. Then he saw something that made his heart stop. While she tugged the sleeves to keep them covering her arm, she made a rip in the fabric covering the forearm gape open. He saw the dark mark. By Merlin’s beard! Kyle’s mother is a Death Eater?!
Kyle’s mind raced when he bumped into the woman. She seems so familiar, but who… Who is she? he thought. He realized that aside from being clumsy he was being rude and staring. He stammered an apology. “I am so sorry, ma’am,” he said in his best southwestern drawl.
Then suddenly it hit him who she was. The dark wavy hair and eyes so like his own. “Mom?!” he exclaimed.
Behind him he heard Liz inhale sharply at his statement and from the corner of his eye he noticed George turn to study the woman before him.
Michelle Valenti looked up quickly and gasped out in her surprise, “Kyle?! Wha… What are you doing here?”
“Um… school. What about you, what are you doing here?” he countered.
“School? But the only school around here is…” she stopped stunned by the revelation.
“Hogwarts,” he finished. “I know. I go to Hogwarts.”
“But… But that’s impossible. You were a squib. You showed absolutely no signs of being a wizard. You took after your father,” she stated grimly.
“Well I guess things change don’t they? Like walking into an empty house three days after my eleventh birthday. I waited for somebody to show up. That didn’t happen until six when dad got home. We scoured the neighborhoods looking for you. It was like you had just disappeared. Dad doesn’t know you’re a witch does he? You apparated that day didn’t you? It all makes sense now. There was no trace anywhere of you. I watched out the window for YEARS waiting for you to come home. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?” he choked out bitterly.
“Oh God, Kyle, I never knew,” she whispered looking stricken and fidgeting.
“How could you know? You walked out of our lives and you never even thought to look back did you? It was absolute torture around there for the first couple of years, but eventually things got better. At least until this past year, which was total chaos. But I survived. I survived without you. I know now that I can live without you in my life, so I hope you believe me when I say I hope you rot in Hell!” With that said he turned quickly and stalked away followed by Liz, Fred and George.
“I already am,” she whispered brushing a tear from her face and watching as her son walked further and further away without looking back once.
“Fred!” George whispered to his twin as they were walking. They were about ten feet behind Liz and Kyle walking back to the castle. “Did you see it?” he asked.
“Did I see what?” Fred asked.
“Kyle’s mum. Her robe was torn across her forearm.”
“So?”
“So? So?! So she’s a Death Eater, you git! She has the dark mark on her forearm,” George exclaimed still whispering.
“What?!” Fred shouted and paled.
Kyle and Liz turned to see what the problem was.
“Is everything alright?” Liz asked.
“Yes, we’re fine,” George said nudging Fred.
“Wha… Oh yeah, perfectly fine,” Fred agreed insincerely.
The Roswell teens were too preoccupied to notice.
“So what can we do about it?” Fred whispered back to George after they began walking again.
There was an owl waiting in the common room for Hermione when they all got back. Her articles had finally arrived.
Part 25
Kyle walked away from the confrontation feeling like he’d taken a football to the gut. The questions raced through his mind. Why now? Where has she been? Why was she so shocked that I was going to Hogwarts but not that there was a Hogwarts? Do I have to see her again? Would she let me see her again? Did she call me squid? I maybe a “shrimp” but I’m not a squid. Did Dad really not know she was a witch? Was she a late-bloomer too? Why did she hide it? And why did she leave? Do I know other witches and wizards in Roswell? I need to go back and talk to her. No, she’d probably hex me. Damn, maybe Max isn’t totally to blame for my being here after all. I think he just got downgraded from least favorite to second least favorite. Wha…?
He jumped, startled out of his reverie by a light touch on his back.
“Kyle, Are you OK?” Liz asked with a quiet voice.
He bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her for asking such a stupid question. He looked in her eyes and saw only concern not sarcasm. He sighed heavily and decided on honesty over hurtful for his reply. “Uh… No. Not really.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Not a lot. But if you would, please, keep pushing me on to the castle so that I’m not tempted to go back to try to talk to her. I know I’m not ready for another confrontation no matter how many questions I have. I never thought I’d say this but I really want to talk to my dad. But who knows maybe he’d be more rattled than I was,” he gave a short, mirthless chuckle which sounded more like a bark.
“I think you should talk to him. Maybe Professor Dumbledore can arrange transportation to and from a telephone. We should ask when we get back. And if not then maybe writing it all out in a letter would be more cathartic anyway. It seems to help me to write in my journal,” she answered.
“I really wanted to hurt her back there. I wanted to make her feel all the pain and anger that I’ve felt because she left,” he said through clenched teeth, then he exhaled and spoke again, more calmly this time. “No! I have to get back into balance if I’m going to be able to focus on schoolwork this week.”
Behind them, they heard the shriek from Fred. They stopped on the path and turned back to see what was wrong.
“Is everything alright?” Liz asked.
“Yes, we’re fine,” George said nudging Fred with his elbow.
“Wha… Oh yeah, perfectly fine,” Fred agreed rather flatly but the Roswell teens had already turned around.
Kyle made up his mind on a plan of action.
“Liz, when we get back I’m going to spend time in the greenhouses, probably until supper. After dinner I’ll write to Dad and if tomorrow I still feel the need to call Dad then I’ll go and talk to Professor Dumbledore,” he said, feeling a lot stronger than before.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Liz agreed and started fishing in her bag. She pulled out a medium sized book bound in rich brown suede. “Here, take this.”
“What is it?” he asked reaching for it.
“Your birthday present. Look, I know your birthday isn’t until the day before we leave but I thought you might need this now. It’s a journal, wizard style. No locks but password protected so that anyone trying to read it without the password gets forgets what they were doing and remembers an errand they were supposed to run. I have a separate one for both secret aspects of my life. You may never use it but you have it if you want it,” she said.
“Thanks. I may use it in a little while. You don’t have a quill and ink with you do you?” he asked.
“Actually, I have my favorite never needs ink, pick the color you write quill. I’ll loan it to you. But I need it back for Monday, OK?” she said.
“Thanks. That means I can go straight to the greenhouses without going back up to Gryffindor Tower. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go on ahead,” he said.
“I don’t mind,” she said and patted him on the shoulder as he took off.
Then she fell back in step with Fred and George.
“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today. Apart from the ending it was wonderful,” she told them as they reached her.
“We live to help damsels in distress,” George teased a little bit.
“So, um, that was Kyle’s mum?” Fred asked.
“Yeah, that was the infamous Michelle Valenti, deadbeat mom extraordinaire. She left three days after Kyle turned eleven. Just disappeared without a trace. Nobody knew she was a witch, so they had no clue that she probably apparated. She just took half of the checking account and disappeared. Kyle hadn’t seen her since then, so he was a bit shook up as you can imagine. I think only the fact that his dad taught him not to hit girls kept him from hitting her,” Liz explained.
“Yeah, I kind of got the feeling he was in shock. So where is he going now?” George asked.
“He’s on his way to the greenhouses to think,” she said, then asked, “What’s a squim, or whatever it was that she called him?”
“A squib you mean?” Fred asked.
“Yeah that,” Liz said and turned to watch their faces as they walked together.
“It’s a derogatory word meaning a person born to a witch or a wizard who has no magical abilities,” George explained.
“It’s rumored that Filch is one,” Fred added.
“Oh so she said she left and left him behind because he wasn’t magical? What a bi…” she started saying when George clamped a hand over her mouth.
A few seconds later they passed Professor Snape on his way to Hogsmeade.
“Thanks George,” she said softly.
He smiled thinking, No, thank you. Then he looked at his hand wondering if the imprint of her lips were burned into his palm. They weren’t.
Hermione unrolled the parchment from her dad and found an article clipping attached as well. Dated 5 October 1999 it was from the Checks and Balances newspaper.
Roswell Waitress Survives Shooting
It was just another hot afternoon in the Crashdown Café. The after school crowd was mingling with the tourists in town for the Crash Festival. But something sinister was a foot. Two customers began arguing, supposedly about money but they were overheard to say, “We’ve got to get rid of her.” Then all hell broke loose and turned the ordinary September into something chaotic.
According to witnesses, seconds after stating they needed to get rid of her, a shot was fired from a gun that had been hidden beneath the table. And a waitress fell behind the counter and the men ran out. On their way out they appeared to check to make sure that the waitress, Elizabeth “Liz” Parker was not moving.
A few seconds later the other waitress was screaming for Liz to answer her when a young man appeared at the fallen waitress’ side. He spent approximately ten seconds hovering over her when the sound of breaking glass was heard and the young man fled. When the customer’s turned back, they saw the young woman standing, dazed and covered in ketchup.
The police report claims that no bullets were found and they speculate the gun was loaded with blanks. If this is the case why was a Crashdown uniform covered in blood and ketchup and containing a bullet hole turned over to the FBI? And why was the ketchup bottle broken after the shooters had left but before Miss Parker stood up? Also if a projectile were not involved why would she have fallen backwards when instincts would have sent her forwards? And why was a glowing silver handprint seen on her abdomen shortly after the incident? Could this be another government cover-up for the aliens among us?
Hermione stared at the page pondering the veracity of the claims made by the article. Based on the statement Professor McGonagall made about Liz’s name appearing on the list just last September, the timeline could be true. And with those comments made in the hallway of the Leaky Cauldron about “little green men,” then the aliens among us thing maybe true. But how does that explain Kyle? And where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since they left the Three Broomsticks.
Kyle walked through the greenhouses trying to find solace. He wandered from plant to plant absently checking their progress while searching for the place he wanted to rest. He finally found a quiet spot where he wouldn’t be near any of the dangerous plants.
It was a small clearing with an oversized worktable and a pair of stools. He paused staring for a moment at the stools before ruling them out and lowering himself to the ground. He rested his back against the sturdy table leg and felt the cool comfort of the packed dirt floor beneath him. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, content for the moment to do nothing.
Soon he felt more settled and remembered the present Liz had given him. He fished through his pocket and pulled out the new journal and the quill she’d loaned him.
He opened the journal and read, Please whisper password twice to set. He leaned forward and whispered twice, “Will Smith Burger.”
Thank you. Your password is set.
He turned to the first page and stared at the stark, empty page as a myriad of images and feelings from the encounter washed over him again. He took the quill and began to write.
She’s alive.
I finally find this out five years, eleven months and ten days after she left, but who’s counting. She’s a witch. No, literally.
I can’t believe I saw her. Oddly enough she seemed shocked that I’m a wizard. And who the hell hit her? She had a fresh black eye and seemed to be stooping a little. Is she in danger? Why do I care?
Maybe I should take a lesson from Michael Guerin back home and be a “stonewall.” Or was that “mud?” Maybe it was “mud wall?” Who knows? But everybody knows he’s had a rotten life and yet he doesn’t seem to care. Right about now not caring is looking pretty good to me. She’s my mother, so what? She left.
What was it she said when I was yelling at her, that I had shown no signs of having magical abilities. Would she have left if I had? Or would she still have left but dragged me with her? What would Dad have done then? He barely survived losing just her. I’m glad he didn’t lose me too.
And why now? How am I going to be able to concentrate for the Transfiguration test on Monday? Thankfully, I finished my Potions essay last night.
Oh, Why did I tell her that I wished she were in Hell?
Suddenly, the page blurred beyond recognition and he felt like the abandoned child again as the tears burned in his eyes. He gave up trying to force them back, and for the first time since his mother had left he allowed himself to cry. He didn’t bother to wipe at the tears, he just let them fall freely. The nearby plants leaned in and caught some of them on their leaves.
One of the plants to his left, a Mourning Begonia, began weeping with him. Ruby red tears dripped from its flowers looking like a bleeding heart. It was beautiful, grotesque and sympathetic all at once.
Later, he fell asleep, all cried out, still resting against the table leg.
Hermione fidgeted anxiously after dinner in the common room. Everyone was back except for Kyle. And he hadn’t shown up for dinner either. She tried playing chess and lost terribly to Harry. Finally she decided to speak to Liz about it.
“Liz, I hate to ask this but are you sure that Kyle came back from Hogsmede? It’s half an hour until curfew and he isn’t here. I wouldn’t be so worried but he skipped dinner and he never does that,” she asked.
Liz smiled slightly thinking of the sparks she’d seen between the two in the past couple of weeks. Then she frowned as she thought of the ordeal that Kyle had gone through that day. Suddenly she remembered that he hadn’t been wearing his watch today. She looked back at Hermione and seemed to form a plan. She answered, “He did come back from Hogsmede but he had kind of a rough day there so went straight to the greenhouses. But he may have lost track of time because he wasn’t wearing his watch. Do you want me to go down there and make sure he gets back in time?”
Hermione hesitated, “No, I’ll go down there and bring him back. What happened that was so bad?”
“You’ll have to ask him. It’s not my secr… um, story to tell,” Liz answered and then turned back to her Potions essay.
“I will. Thank you,” Hermione said before leaving.
A few minutes later she nearly stumbled over him before she saw him. He was sleeping still propped up against the table leg. She studied his face and saw the remnants of the tracks of the tears. She saw the collection jar under the nearby Mourning Begonia was nearly full. What trial could he have suffered through at Hogsmede to cause this kind of grief? she asked herself.
Her hand reached out of its own free will to touch his cheek, her thumb gently rubbing across the tear track to remove the evidence.
His eyes flew open, but he didn’t move except for a small, tired smile. “What are you doing here?” he asked with a hoarse whisper.
Hermione blushed, her heart pounding but she answered as truthfully as she dared, “I, um, I was worried when you didn’t make it back for dinner and was afraid that you wouldn’t make it back in time for curfew. Liz said you didn’t have your watch.”
“How did she…? Oh that’s right I must have asked them a dozen times if we were going to be late to meet you at the pub,” he said then his eyes darkened and his face seemed twist a little in pain as he remembered the rest of the day.
Her heart ached to see that trace of pain. She wanted to take the pain away but she knew she couldn’t. Her other hand moved to gently rub out the tear tracks on the other side instead while she said quietly, “Liz said you’d had a rough day.”
He nodded and said, “I did. I’ll tell you about it sometime soon. But I need to work it out a little more in my head and write to my dad before I do.”
When she started to pull her hands back he realized what she must have been doing. He reached up and captured her hands in his for just a moment. He gave her a grateful smile and thanked her.
“Oh that? It was nothing really,” she lied, blushing again.
And then he was standing beside her putting a book in his pocket. “Yes, it was,” he said firmly.
Then he leaned over and kissed her right cheek, causing her to blush furiously.
He led the way when they began walking back to the castle. They were quiet, both wishing that the kiss had been a little further to her left.
Part 27
Nancy Parker looked up to see an owl tapping on the kitchen window. It looked like a typical barn owl but most were not out during the daytime. She smiled and opened the window to let the bird in.
“Hi, Oliver. How are you?” she asked him stroking the feathers on top of his head.
He waited patiently while she removed the letter from his leg and then handed him a vanilla wafer from the cookie jar. As he ate the cookie she tied the letter that had been waiting for his arrival. He then turned toward the window to leave.
“Give Laura my love,” Nancy called to him as he took off.
I wonder if I will ever get used to owls delivering mail? she asked herself. You’d think that in 25 years it might not startle me anymore. I wonder what Liz would say if she knew that her favorite aunt that she’s going to stay with in Miami is a witch?
She smiled at the thought, then turned to the stereo. Cranking up Elvis Costello she went down the hall to sort the laundry.
Later that day Jeff walked in with the mail from downstairs. “Honey, do you have any idea why Liz would be getting a letter from Congresswoman Whitaker’s office?”
“I have no idea. Should we open it? Normally, I wouldn’t but since Liz isn’t going to be home for another month may be we should,” Nancy answered her husband.
“Or should we just forward it to her unopened?” he asked.
“I guess. Yeah, put it in the envelope before curiosity gets the better of me,” she said quickly as if to keep from changing her mind.
Jeff laughed softly as he dropped it in the large brown “For Liz” envelope.
“Oh, by the way, I got a letter back from Laura today. She says she’ll do a ‘special cleaning’ just for Liz’s visit. And for us not to worry, they will have a great time.”
Jeff smiled then turned, grabbing his wife playfully around the waist. “You know, as much as I’ve missed having Liz around this summer, this having the house to ourselves has been really nice,” he said first snuggling up to her, then tickling her ribs.
Nancy giggled and protested insincerely, “Stop that.”
“Make me,” he replied waggling his eyebrows at her. Then he chased her around the apartment and finally into the bedroom.
***********
Kyle and Hermione made it back to the common room with about thirty seconds to spare. They had taken a quick trip through the kitchen for a sandwich for Kyle, which he sat by the fire to eat. Even in midsummer, evenings in the common room were a bit drafty and a fire was needed.
As he ate his eyes kept drifting towards the chess game that Hermione and Ron had started when she returned, but he rarely focused on the board. Instead he focused on the Prefect’s face. I wonder what she would have done if I would have kissed her properly? he thought.
Just then Hermione glanced up and noticed him watching. She blushed brightly and gave a shy smile. Then she looked back down at the board.
Kyle wasn’t sure what that meant.
With a sigh he finished his sandwich, got up and walked over to Liz. As he walked he reached into his pocket and removed the quill Liz had loaned him earlier.
He laid it by her on the desk and said, “Liz, thanks for letting me use your quill this afternoon.”
He started to walk away but turned back saying, “Oh, and thanks for the journal, it seemed to help me. I’m going to go upstairs write to dad now.”
He walked to the steps calling back as he climbed, “Good night. See you in the morning.”
As soon as he got upstairs he quickly changed into his Roswell PE clothes to sleep in. Next he grabbed his quill, ink, some paper and his journal and jumped up onto his poster bed. Finally he lit his wand and put it into the holder over his pillow. Then he drew the curtains to insure that he would have privacy while he wrote.
He opened the journal after whispering his password and turned to the next empty page. He began to write.
What an emotional roller coaster today has been.
First it was a good morning. And then the trip to Hogsmeade, but I’ve already written enough about that.
Then I went to the greenhouses to “deal” with life and fell asleep.
Then Hermione came to get me.
She was so sweet about it and I kissed her on the cheek. I wanted to kiss her on the lips but I chickened out. I don’t know why I didn’t but I wonder what would have happened if I did.
A little after that I was watching her in the common room and she looked up and blushed, I think because I was watching her. Then she smiled and looked back down.
Unfortunately, I don’t know if that means she likes me. Or that she enjoyed the kiss. Or that she’s just embarrassed to be around me. But she didn’t look like she would hit me. Maybe next time I will kiss her properly. But maybe I should talk to her first to get to know her better. Apparently girls like that.
Hell, I might like that, too.
Well, I need to write to dad and I’m not sure what to say. No matter what I say, he’s going to hurt.
Kyle sighed and closed the book.
He picked up the paper and began to doodle in the margins while he etched out in his mind what he should say to his father. Finally, when he felt ready he began to write.
Dear Dad,
I have some good news and some really lousy news to share with you. I’ll go with the lousy news first because I know you’ll skip to the end anyway if I don’t.
I ran into mom today, literally.
Everything we were carrying hit the ground. I didn’t even recognize her at first. When I did and said “Mom?” she turned white as a ghost. Then I kind of lost it and screamed at her. It didn’t make me feel any better. And I actually felt worse. And someone had already given her a black eye shortly before I ran into her.
Dad, I don’t know if you knew anything about this or not but I know I never knew. Mom is a witch. It must have been her genes in me that were activated when I was shot by Agent Pierce.
Anyway I don’t know whether I will ever see her again. And I probably made sure that any future meeting is completely rocky but I couldn’t control my words at that moment. I wanted her to hurt like I had. If I could apologize now after a few hours of calming down I would. Then I would ask all the questions I’ve always wanted to know.
Well, I promised you some good news. We are going to be going to special classes during the afternoons during the school year and they are making arrangements so I can play Quidditch for the house team, well if I pass the tryout in September. It’s a sport that is much more interesting and challenging than football. And it is played on flying broomsticks. Dad there is nothing like flying.
Liz may have forgiven me. She helped me through this afternoon and her advice helped a lot. She also kept me from turning back and making a fool of myself.
I just wanted you to know what is going on. I wish I could have given you better news.
Kyle
Finally he extinguished his wand and went to sleep.
Michelle Valenti watched as her son as he disappeared from view. She struggled not to cry, nor to chase him.
Suddenly she realized that she was fidgeting with the tear in her sleeve and took out her wand to repair it. Quietly she muttered a mending charm over the cloth
Only when she finished did she realize that the ache in her arm was not just a residue of her previous encounters with Kyle and Malfoy, she was being summoned.
She sighed with regret and defeat as she prepared to apparate to her master.
“Ah, here is Ms. LeFey now. So glad you could join us,” the cold, calculating voice of Voldemort said.
Michelle knelt before him until he sent her flying across the room.
“Woman, do you know why you are being punished?”
She kept her mouth shut, knowing anything she said would only result in more pain.
“You tried to raise your prices on the supplies you provide. You also took far too long to get here and when you arrived you were not properly attired,” he said then flicked his wand at her and once again she went flying.
But this time she was thrown against Lucius Malfoy, dislodging a vial of the dragon’s venom from the pocket of his robes. It fell shattering as it hit the ground.
Angrily he kicked her away from him and she lay still in her agony hoping to not displease the Dark Lord again.
“Temper, Lucius, temper,” Voldemort said in a tone that implied amusement. “We’ll have her bring you some more venom. And this time it will be for free, since she caused that vial to be broken. In fact, she will bring you five vials for free to replace that one, won’t you, my dear?”
“Yes, Master,” she replied quietly.
“Excellent. You see, Lucius, all she needed was a little persuasion. Didn’t you say you also needed some from a Southwestern Turquoise dragon?”
“Yes, Sir, I did,” Malfoy oozed.
“Then Ms. LeFey, you will bring him 3 vials of the replacement venom and two of the Southwestern Turquoise. You need to bring it in ten days when you are summoned again and only then will your account be cleared of this debt. Now leave. You have work to do,” he concluded.
She didn’t have to be asked twice. She apparated back to her flat to try to soak out the aches and examine the bruises on her petite frame.
Two days later, Roswell, NM
Michelle glanced around at the city she’d left behind six years before. God, I hated this town, with its trashy, cheesy alien themes, all those tourists and the insufferable heat. Not to mention the almost scandalous lack of selections down the one magical alley in town and these ridiculous muggle clothes. Yet I wish I’d never left. I felt so safe then. She sighed heavily and walked forward remembering the past.
It had been almost eighteen years earlier when she’d arrived in Roswell for the first time. She had been after Southwestern Turquoise venom then as well. She had actually gotten the venom but had been injured by her mate when he had returned suddenly. She’d had barely enough strength to stash the venom before she collapsed beside of the road. A couple of hours later she’d been discovered and rushed to the hospital. Three days later when she’d woken up she’d met Jim Valenti for the first time. He wanted to know if it was her husband or boyfriend who had beaten her and left her for dead out in the desert. His pleas that she let him help her from “whatever seemingly hopeless situation she was in” were comforting to her tired soul. He had visited her daily throughout her recovery and they grew close. When she’d left to finally deliver the venom two months later, she was carrying his son. As soon as she had realized her expectant condition she returned to him and they were married. She had even learned to live as a muggle woman. Only after she had begun hearing the rumors of the return of the Dark Lord did she realize that if she stayed neither Jim nor Kyle would be safe, so she left to protect them from the perils of a world they knew nothing about, and hopefully never would.
The flashing blue lights ahead brought her thoughts back to the present as she saw the man who once was her husband at work clearing a traffic accident. She blended into the crowd and watched him working. He was still strong and handsome. She felt empty as she realized what she’d given up, all to protect him from the foolish decisions she’d made as a teenager.
She sighed and left going to collect the venom as she’d been ordered.
Two hours later, her vials full and her curiosity in control she returned to the house that had been her home for eleven years. She was looking over Kyle’s room when she heard the door open.
Jim Valenti dragged himself through the door into the living room and then on into the kitchen. He paused long enough the drop his hat, gun and badge on the kitchen table before walking to the refrigerator for a soda.
He was taking a long gulp of the soda when he heard the swish of clothing behind him. He spun, fully expecting to see his favorite “firecracker” since she knew the location of his spare key and had met him just two nights before wearing red bow around her neck, and nothing but the bow.
What he saw instead caused the color to drain from his face.
“Hello, Jim,” Michelle said stepping out from the shadows, her eyes cold and sad as she appeared in the robes she’d never worn in front of him.
“Michelle,” he acknowledged a lot more calmly than he actually felt. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure really,” she admitted. “I saw Kyle the other day and then I was given an assignment in the area. Why didn’t you tell me that Kyle is a wizard?”
“Where exactly would I have sent the message? Fallen off the face of the Earth is hardly an acceptable address. Hell, the only reason I even knew you were alive was the divorce papers arrived from Reno seven weeks after you left and half of the savings account was gone. And do you know what else? There is no record of a Cassandra Michelle Morgan from Buffalo or anywhere else in New York. So really the question I should be asking is who are you?” he ranted then paused. “Wait a minute, you ran into Kyle?! But he’s….”
“At Hogwarts. Yes, I know. When did his abilities finally manifest themselves?” she asked.
“As far as we know he’s only had the abilities since May,” Jim answered calming down.
She sighed, relaxing only slightly.
“Why does it matter?”
She explained, “These are perilous times in the wizarding world, and frankly it would have been safer for him to be powerless than for him to be a wizard known as my son. I have enemies. And worse than that I have ‘colleagues’ that would love to recruit him or do worse to him just to torture me. I really don’t want him to have to deal with either situation. If he’d shown any signs back then of having magical abilities, I would never have left. I would have stayed in hiding just to protect him and you.”
“Is that all our marriage was? A hiding place for you?” Jim spat furiously.
“Not really. I did love you. I still do and if you think it was easy for me to just walk away then you really don’t know me. I did it to protect you. I walk a dangerous rope everyday. If I had not have gone back when I did then they would have hunted me down. And finding me they would have killed you and then Kyle while I would be forced to watch and then, if I were lucky, they would kill me.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“The Dark Lord and his followers. So I returned to them without giving them a reason to question my loyalty and they have never been told about either of you so you should be safe,” she explained.
“So, are you a witch? And what is your real name?”
“Yes, I am. Cassandra Michelle LeFey,” she answered quietly.
The clock on the wall struck the time. Seven o’clock.
Jim suddenly panicked. “Crap! I have a date tonight and she is going to be here in fifteen minutes. I need to get ready.” He took off towards the bedroom.
An eyebrow raised she called down the hall, “Anyone I know?”
“Yeah, Amy Deluca,” he voice answered back.
“What?!! That nutcase?”
“You lost the right to object the moment you divorced me,” he replied.
“Honey, I gave a false name at the wedding, technically we were never married. I just got the divorce so that you wouldn’t keep looking for me.”
Ten minutes later he walked back in the room wearing fresh jeans and a clean shirt. He carried his boots and sat down to put on the clean socks first.
Damn, he still looks good, she thought as she took a step towards him.
“I’d better go, since she’ll be here any minute,” she said, leaning over and kissing him goodbye. She stepped back, noting the traces of lipstick she’d left and disapparated.
Part 29
Maria sat down to rest her weary feet. She knew better than to wear this particular pair of shoes to work, but they were Michael’s favorite and so she wore them anyway. Of course when she’d gotten to work she’d discovered that he had changed shifts again and was not working. It was all that she could do to not cry from frustration. How was she supposed to convince him that they were supposed to be together if he wasn’t there for her to try?
She looked over to the counter where Max sat moping yet again. That boy seriously needs to get a grip. Maybe if he weren’t so damn willing to “cool off” where Liz is concerned he might stand a chance. Unfortunately they can both be so selfless that they are going to miss each other completely if they aren’t careful. She shook her head, pushed her self up and walked over to the counter.
“Ok girlfriend, I hate to do this to you but we’re closing in like five minutes. I need that glass so I can finish the clean up,” she told him.
“Huh?! Oh right. OK. Here,” he said handing it to her. He pulled money from his wallet and set it on the counter with a sigh.
“Look if you want to continue this mope session, then go over to the video rental and rent Steel Magnolias and Beaches. Then meet me back at my house in half an hour. You’ll have to deal with sob infested chick flicks and have to help me paint my toenails but I promise that you will feel better after watching both of those flicks,” she said thinking, If for no other reason than to realize that you aren’t dead yet so it isn’t over.
“I don’t know,” Max said looking a little pained at the thought.
“Just scoot. If you’re there, then fine. If you aren’t, then fine. Got it? Good. Go,” she said firmly steering him out the door and locking it behind him.
Jeff was at the register cashing everything out. He laughed as Maria turned the lock. “Has anyone ever told you that you will make a great bouncer when you are older?”
She tried to look stern and glare at him but the laughter was infectious.
When she got home to her surprise both her mother and Max were both there. Amy was slamming pots and pans around the kitchen and muttering under her breath.
“Maria, Have you seen the popcorn pot? I need popcorn. NOW!” Amy said hysterically.
“Mom? What’s wrong? What happened?” Maria said rushing to her mother’s side.
She threw her arms around her daughter’s neck and began to weep.
Maria worried that something terrible may have happened guided her mother to the living room and mouthed to Max as she passed, Make popcorn.
She heard him moving to do just that as she settled Amy on the couch. She handed her a box of tissues and said, “Ok, what happened? What did he do? He didn’t hit you did he?”
Amy took a deep breath and with a shaky voice began to speak. “You know I had a date tonight?”
Maria nodded.
“Well, I got there and Jim seemed very odd. But then again a lot of things were very odd. Anyway, he acted like he’d never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life. But then when I went to kiss him I saw it. There were traces of lipstick on his face. It looked like he had already washed his face when they were put there. So of course I freaked and started shouting at him about kissing someone else right before we had a date. He kept insisting that he hadn’t kissed anyone. But when I asked him to explain the lipstick, he clammed up. So I left and have been throwing things ever since. I mean, really, how can he deny kissing someone when I saw the lipstick for myself?”
Max cleared his throat from the doorway, “Um, popcorn is ready.”
Amy’s eyes fixed on the bowl and then gave Max a look that said, What are you waiting for?
Max brought the bowl to the coffee table and said, “It is possible, you know.”
“What is possible?” Amy questioned.
“It is possible to have not kissed anyone yet have traces of lipstick.”
“How?”
“Think about it. If someone he didn’t want to kiss, had kissed him wouldn’t he say that he hadn’t kissed anyone? Wouldn’t that also explain the relief to see you?” Max stated.
“Mom, that also might explain why he wouldn’t tell you who it was. Especially if he didn’t want anything to do with that person, ever.”
“Oh God, I’ve done it again haven’t I? Reacted first, then thought it through. How can I face him now?” Amy wailed.
“Mom, Go. Go face him now and talk about it before you have a chance to sleep on it and get even more embarrassed. I mean it. Go. Talk. To. Him.”
“I thought you didn’t like him?”
“I didn’t. But he made you smile when you hadn’t for a while and that bumped him up a couple of notches.” Maria winked at her mother then herded her out the door.
As she went back to the couch she thought of Jeff’s comment from earlier and laughed again.
Kyle woke with a start. A dream. A stupid dream… thank God. He took several deep breaths trying to calm his pounding heart.
He picked up his watch. Two o’clock. Great… Like my sleep wasn’t bad enough already without the dreams of my mother boiling me in a pot for native cannibals to enjoy… He sighed. Maybe some meditation will help. But where? Not the boy’s lavatory again. Maybe the common room? Yeah that’s it.
He climbed out of the bed and slid on his slippers before padding downstairs as quietly as possible.
He sat slowly down in a chair first, planning to move down to the floor in a couple of minutes. He noticed the fire was still going in the grate. That’s odd. The fire usually doesn’t keep burning after we all go to bed.
He looked around and noticed Harry huddled in a chair by the fire seeming to stare into the flames.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Kyle questioned softly.
Harry jumped at the sound. As soon as he could speak without a shaky voice he answered, “Yeah, something like that.”
“Me too. Actually I was sleeping but I was having nightmares. My mother had me in one of those large kettle cauldrons, cooking me for the local cannibals. And I was screaming, ‘Mom, Don’t do this. I promise I’ll clean my room…’ I guess it kind of sounds silly now,” Kyle said with a small chuckle.
“It does, just a bit,” Harry said with a slight smile. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned your mom before. Is she really strict with you?”
“No. Well, actually I hardly remember since I don’t live with her anymore. She left us a few years ago. Strangely enough I’ve only seen her once since then. Anyway the dream had me kind of worked up so I thought I’d come down here away from Fred’s snoring to meditate and try to relax. Did you want to try?”
“Um, sure. If you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind. Just remember I’m not a professional at this, so no guarantees, but we’ll try it anyway.”
They sat on the floor near the fire and slowly Kyle talked Harry through the steps. Then he allowed himself to meditate. Half an hour later Kyle brought himself out of the trancelike state and guided Harry back out as well. Soon both boys were back upstairs sleeping peacefully in their beds.
It was 7:30 before Kyle stirred the next morning. He stretched and groaned. As he looked around to get his bearings he saw the bag from Honeydukes and wondered if his father had received his letter yet.
He let the thought drop as he realized the time and jumped out of bed to face the day.
Two days into the new week, Hermione received another owl from her father with another article from the conspiracy newspaper, Checks and Balances. This one was more disturbing to her than the previous one.
June 10, 2000 Shots Fired Again in Roswell
Eight months after local waitress, Liz Parker, appeared to be gunned down (but miraculously recovered moments later) in her family’s restaurant, another shooting has occurred in Roswell, New Mexico.
Unlike the previous shooting, this one had few witnesses. Milton, the owner of the UFO Museum, opened his doors to find the museum in shambles. Bullet holes riddled the projector screen and back stage there were bloodstains on the floor.
According to Milton, the building, which is a converted bomb shelter, has only one entrance and it was locked when he arrived. The only other key is in the possession of Max Evans. (Incidentally, Evans was missing for three days at the same time according to the police report filed by his parents.)
Oddly the only cars reported in the area at the time of the incident were a couple of County vehicles and a sports car owned by the local sheriff, Jim Valenti, but typically driven by his teen-aged son, Kyle Valenti.
Checking with local records shows no ballistics report was done on the bullets recovered at the scene. So what exactly is Sheriff Valenti hiding about that night?
Also reported around that same time was increased activity at the supposedly abandoned Eagle Rock military facility. Could another government conspiracy be in progress and if so, how many branches of the government are involved? We’ll continue to keep our eyes trained on the “Cover-up City” and will report on our findings.
Hermione sank numbly into the seat by the window, wondering, What does that mean?
Twenty minutes later, she was still sitting there staring out the window trying to sort through the things she’d read when Kyle walked into the common room.
She tried to shuffle the article under her books all while trying not to look guilty and afraid as she looked at him. This was a dismal failure as Crookshanks using his half-Kneazle intuition chose that moment to pounce, scattering her books and papers across the floor.
Kyle had looked for her as soon as he had walked in the room but the different emotions that played across her face had almost kept him away. That is until he’d seen the orange fur-ball spring into action keeping creating a little whirlwind of chaos that he thought, with a grin, was “DeLuca-worthy.”
“Here,” he said, scooping up the two largest books and setting them on the low table, “let me help you.”
“Tha… ank you,” she managed to stutter out half in anxiety from the article and the other half anxiety from her own emotions. “I can’t imagine what made him so…so…”
“Kitten-ish? Playful?” He offered with a flirtatious grin.
She couldn’t help but smile back.
She watched as he leaned forward again and began gathering up her papers. She saw his back stiffen and his hands freeze as he found the article. Mentally, she berated herself for letting her guard down while questioning whether this was a blessing in disguise. She said nothing while he read the article.
“I guess it would be too much to hope that this was just a coincidence, huh? Um, where did this come from?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could as he lowered himself to a nearby chair.
She waited to respond until he had looked at her. What she saw was not the anger or the fear she expected but mostly curiosity with maybe a touch of relief thrown in. She decided he deserved at least some honesty in her answer. “Initially, I was curious as to why you would appear on the lists so late. It was almost unheard of. But then I overheard your argument with Liz in the Leaky Cauldron that night and I had a true mystery on my hands. So I did my research into Roswell and came up with very little here. My father, however, is what I think you Americans call a ‘Tabloid Junkie.’ He came up with two articles. That one, of course, and this one about Liz,” she finished pulling the article from the pocket of her robes.
Kyle let out a long sigh. What could he say that would reassure her but not sound trivial? ‘We come in peace!’ was too cliché and hardly reassuring. Finally he asked quietly, “Are you afraid of me?”
She thought about it seriously for a moment. “No, not really and yes a little but not for the same reason,” she said blushing.
He made up his mind then and there. Unlike Liz with Max, he felt no real compunction to guard it religiously. It was his secret to tell, too, after all. “Hermione, do you trust me enough to go somewhere a little more private to talk? I’ve got something to tell you that I think you are ready to hear…”
