Potions and Parchment Match

Ron flopped down on the couch and slammed his feet down on the battered coffee table in front of him. Being a waiter was a lot more work than he had anticipated, but oddly he felt pride in his accomplishment. He knew that Muggles were nasty and hard to get along with, but somehow he had managed an entire six hour shift of waiting on Muggles hand and foot. He had poured glass after glass of water, coffee and pop. He had brought cup after cup of thick clam chowder to the hungry tourists. Apparently Ivar’s was famous for the strange white soup that had potatoes and clams floating in it. Muggles ate weird things and Ron was wishing he could find a nice cold glass of pumpkin juice. He settled for a can of Pepsi that he had picked up at the Seven-Eleven on the way home. Muggles even had strange names for things. Why would they call a store a Seven-Eleven? He thought that maybe they were only open from seven to eleven, but then he saw a huge sign advertising that they were opened twenty-four hours a day. That seemed strange to him as well. Why would someone want to keep a store open twenty-four hours a day? Didn’t people in this place ever sleep?

He flicked his eyes to the wall that separated him from the apartment of the weeping woman. He had listened to her cry for hours the day before and he could hear her now. He felt a strong need to get up and console her but she had already slammed the door in his face once, and he didn’t think his ego could stand a second rejection. He took another sip of his Pepsi and belched. He grinned. This was another Muggle invention that he could easily get used to. He reached down and grabbed the remote and turned the volume up louder to block out the sounds from next door. He also loved the television and its remote. Muggles were strange, but they had some great ideas.

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He let his mind wander to home and his family. He didn’t miss any of them. He missed Harry and Hermione, but he was glad to be away from his family, especially his controlling mother. He felt a profound sense of relief to be out from under her thumb. He had stashed his wand in the drawer in his dresser and hadn’t used it since just after his arrival. He had heard that his magic could be tracked and he wasn’t ready to be found yet. He needed more time to think about his future and what the rest of his life would bring. He knew that because he had left Britain he wouldn’t be forced into marriage. America did not have any such laws and as long as he stayed here he was safe from the interference of the government. Kate said that the Magical Service Division in America was corrupt, but the American people would never stand for being forced into unwanted marriages and there were just too many witches and wizards to control here.

His roommate, Kate, was a lot of fun. She worked long hours at the restaurant, but when she came home she like to go to the clubs and go dancing. Ron tagged along with her once but decided that dancing at the clubs wasn’t for him. He had never liked the gothic looking girls and decided that he preferred them more clean cut and normal looking. He thought about the girl next door again and sighed. He couldn’t stop thinking about her face. She had been beautiful. He took another swig of his Pepsi and stood. He decided to knock on her door one last time. The worst thing she could do was slam it in his face again.

He purposefully walked out of his flat and down the hall to the next door and knocked. A moment later it was silent in the room behind the door. He heard slow shuffling towards the door and it flung open.

“What?” the girl demanded. She had long stringy blond hair and swollen green eyes. She was wearing a ratty looking sleeping gown and held a crushed tissue in her hand. Ron thought she was amazing.

“I heard you crying and wanted to help,” he said with a smile.

“I told you to leave me alone!” she said shutting the door.

“Wait!” he said putting his foot in the door way and keeping her from closing the door. “I’m a good listener.”

She stopped for a moment and looked at him. “You’re British,” she said.

Ron grinned. “So are you!” he answered.

She looked at him up and down and frowned. “Do I know you?” she asked.

Ron shook his head. “I doubt it. I’ve been at boarding school most of my family lived out of town. I didn’t get around to much.”

She frowned deeper. “I know you,” she said, trying to place him.

“My name is Ron, Ron Weasley,” he said holding out his hand.

She gasped. “Are you related to George?” she demanded.

It was Ron’s turn to frown. “The gits my older brother,” he said.

She reached out and shoved him and then slammed the door in his face. Ron stood bewildered for a moment and then glared. His damn brothers were even ruining his life in America!


Millie watched from the window as Neville and his mother slowly walked around the frozen garden below. The two were holding hands and she could see Neville talking and his mother nodding her head. She would point to things and Neville would nod and say words that Millie couldn’t see or hear from her view point. She smiled and turned towards the sleeping man lying in his bed. She walked over to him and stared at him.

He had Neville’s coloring, but then so did Alice. He must have been bigger at one point, but now he was thin and sickly looking and she wondered how he had held on for so many years just laying there. She wondered what kind of man he was. Neville had no real memories of his parents and only knew about them from the memories of others. His grandmother had built Frank Longbottom up to be the most amazing wizard in the world but had never spoke of Alice. Now Alice was recovering and they would have a chance to get to know her but they would never know Frank. Millie thought that this was sad.

She reached down and took his dry hand into hers. “I’ll take care of them for you,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “Neville save me, and now I’ll save him.”

She sat down, still holding his hand. “I should tell you about how Neville and I met. Then you will know how truly amazing your son is. You see, the Ministry of Magic is forcing all of the Witches and Wizards to marry in order to reproduce. Our numbers are low after the war. Neville was paired up with this horrid witch named, Romilda, and I was paired with Ronald Weasley. I think that you know his parents. They were in the Order with you.”

She rubbed his hand and continued. “Both of us were miserable. We didn’t know how we could possibly spend the rest of our lives married to people who we hated and couldn’t get along with. You see, the Ministry said that anyone who refused to marry their match would lose their wand. Neither Neville nor I wanted to live as a Muggle, I guess me more so than him. He found me crying and alone when I thought that my life was over. I was going to turn in my wand rather than marry Ron.”

She smiled and pushed his long bangs over his forehead and out of his face. Perhaps Neville did look a bit like him. “Neville was on his way to turn his wand in as well. He said that he had spent enough of his life in a war zone and wouldn’t do it any longer. We had never met before this day. Sure, we had been in school together for seven years, but we didn’t know each other. I was a Slytherin and of course he was a Gryffindor. You know those two houses don’t usually mix.”

Millie grinned, thinking of how many years they had been told that Gryffindor’s were disgusting do gooders and to stay away from them. She had heard her entire life how Slytherins were superior and could not blend with the noble Gryffindor house. She thought of the several pairs that were soul mates in the two houses. She was happy that someone had been wrong all those years ago and now the houses were uniting. “Neville took me into his arms and let me cry on his shoulder, and then he proposed. He asked me to elope with him. He said at least the two of us could talk without fighting and that was more than we had with our matches. I agreed and that is how we came to be. I promise you, Mr. Longbottom, that I will be a good wife to him. He saved my life and I will save his. He gave me a reason for living and hope for the future. I will…”

“What are you doing here?” a shrill voice demanded. “Let go of his hand immediately!”

Millie gasped and turned around startled. She let out a sigh and said, “Oh, it’s you,” and turned her back on the old woman.

“How dare you turn your back on me!” Augusta Longbottom screeched. “And let go of my son’s hand immediately!”

Millie smiled sweetly at the old shrew and said, “My father-in-law and I are having a talk right now, Grandmother. When we are done you will have your turn.”

“Well!” Augusta said in shock. “He’s my son!”

“He’s Neville’s father,” Millie stated.

Augusta looked around the room. “Where is that grandson of mine?”

“He and Alice have gone for a walk,” she said calmly.

Augusta sat down in the second chair next to the bed and stared intently at Millie. “You would do well to discourage this childish fantasy Neville has regarding his parents. They will never improve, nor will they come home and be his parents again.”

“Maybe a good dose of hope is what everyone in this family needs,” she answered.

“You have no idea what you are even talking about. My Frank has been in this bed for fifteen years. They will never leave this room again.”

“But Alice has not been in bed. She is up and walking around. She knows who Neville is. She…”

“She is just as gone as Frank is. She may walk, but she has lost her mind! Neville is delusional if he thinks that his mother knows who he is!”

“Grandmother!” Neville gasped from the doorway. His face was white and he was shocked at what he had just heard. His mother clutched his arm tighter and pulled him closer.

“What are you doing with her?” Augusta demanded. “Put her in her chair and stop trying to force something that just is not there!”

“Why can’t you just believe, Grandmother? Why can’t you understand that sometimes hope is all someone has. My mother is getting better. She knows who I am!”

“Enough of this foolishness, Neville! Your mother is just as much a vegetable as your father. She doesn’t have a clue who you are!”

Alice glared at her mother-in-law. She had never gotten along with the bitter old woman. She wished that she had enough words to say what she really felt but she couldn’t get them all out. She let go of Neville’s arm and walked to her husband’s bed. She stood between Neville’s wife and Augusta. “Neville is my son,” she said in a gravelly voice.

“What?” Augusta gasped.

“Neville is my son!” she said in a firmer tone. “He is mine!”

“Alice?” the old women asked, trembling.

“I’m not…” she started then stumbled over the words. “I’m not going to die!”

“Alice,” Augusta said paling. “You’re talking.” What was going on here? How was this possible? How could she be speaking after spending so many years as a vegetable. She glanced at the bed and wondered if Frank would waken as well.

Neville saw the conflicting emotions cross his grandmothers wrinkled old face. “He will never wake up, Grandmother. He is gone. But my mother will heal, and she will be fine.”
Augusta felt the tears fall down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to bite back the sobs but couldn’t. She curled down into her lap and sobbed. She had to admit what she was never willing to face, and that is that Frank was never going to wake up. She had known it for years, but could never say the words out loud. To lose him was too hard, it caused her too much pain.

Neville kneeled down next to her and gently wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright, Grandmother. I know this is hard.”

Alice watched her sensitive son embrace the old shrew and felt her heart ache. He was so much like his father. He had a kind heart and a gently soul. She turned and looked at his wife and saw the tears in her eyes. Alice reached out and patted her arm. She turned and smiled at her and then drew her into a hug. “Everything will be fine,” she whispered.

The two men stood glaring at each other, one set of blue eyes and one set of silver, each refusing to back down. Charlie wrapped his arm tighter around Narcissa pulling her closer to him. “This doesn’t concern you, Draco,” he said calmly.

“You’re manhandling my mother!” he growled. “How does that not concern me?” He took a step closer to the pair.

“Draco…” Narcissa started. She couldn’t bear to see her son and Charlie fight.

“Hush dear,” Charlie said. “Draco, I know that you are aware of what is between your mother and me. I would appreciate it if you could give us a moment of privacy.”

Draco looked from the tall red-headed man who held his mother so tight, to his mothers flushed face. He was torn between his knowledge that there was really nothing that he could do and the need to protect his mother. He knew that this did not concern him and that they were both adults, but he had spend too many years watching his father manhandled his mother and make her cry. He knew this was different but he couldn’t stand to see the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“It’s alright, dear,” Narcissa said. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled softly too him and stepped back. “Go back to the Manor.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, still not wanting to leave the two of them alone.

She nodded. “I’ll speak to you later.”

Draco nodded and turned to leave and then stopped. “I know that you are her soul mate, Weasley, but you have to know how complicated this will be. My mother has been through enough in her life. Just give her some time to adjust to this.”

“Nothing is impossible,” he said simply. “I won’t let her go now that I have found her, Draco.”

Draco looked at the two of them and saw the determination in Charlie Weasley’s eyes. He had seen that same look on his face when he decided that Hermione was worth fighting for. He nodded and turned to go.
Seconds later, Draco disappeared behind the trees. “Charlie, let go of me,” Narcissa said, pushing away from the man’s strong arms.

“I’ll give you tonight to think about this, but know this Narcissa, we will marry,” he said firmly.
Narcissa shook her head and felt a tear slip down her cheek. “It won’t work,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Charlie grabbed her arms and pulled her back against him. “Why?” he demanded. “Why won’t it work?”

“I’m old enough to be your mother!” she shouted.

Charlie smiled. “You barely look old enough to be Draco’s mum, let alone mine. You are fifteen years older than me, in our world that’s not so much.”

“In our world, I am a Malfoy, and you are a Weasley.”

“No, you are a Black and I am a Weasley. The Black family and the Weasley family are allies. Harry is the head of the Black family, and he is like a son to my mother.”

“You can’t pretend that I wasn’t married to Lucius,” she exclaimed.

“Why not, you do,” he said softly.

“Don’t even presume to tell me how I feel!” she said sharply. “You know nothing about my life!”

“I know a lot more than you think, Narcissa. I know that you have spent years crying yourself to sleep. I know that you purposely made yourself infertile to keep from having another child. I know that you cringed every time that he came near you. I know that you spent your life protecting your son at your own personal expense, enduring years of both physical and verbal abuse.”

Narcissa gasped. “How do you know any of this?”

“Because I have spent my life dreaming of you. I could feel anytime you were hurt…angry…upset. I could hear your cries of anguish at night in my dreams. We have always been connected!” he growled.

“How is that possible?” she whispered.

“I don’t know. I just know what I saw and what I felt. I never saw your face, but I felt you. I felt you every time I closed my eyes. Why do you think I never married? My family has been hounding me for years to find a witch and start a family.” He let go of her and stepped back. He pushed his thick red hair out of his eyes and sighed. “I knew that you were out there somewhere. I knew that I had a soul mate before I even took the test. I figured that when everyone began taking the tests that you would finally appear. I was right,” he whispered.

Narcissa stared at the young man for a moment and shook her head. “I can’t!” she cried and ran through the woods to the brightly lit house.

Charlie let her go, knowing that she needed time to sort out her emotions. He had known for years that he would someday find his soul mate. She had just found out. That she was fifteen years older than him mattered little to him. She could have been thirty years older and he still would have welcomed her with open arms. His soul had been calling out to hers for years and he was not about to let her go now.




“Look, Harry!” Pansy said pointing at a portrait on the wall.

Harry looked up and saw a portrait of his parents. It was a magical one and both his parents were smiling at him. “Mum? Dad?” he asked in hope.

“He looks like you, James,” Lilly said with a smile.

“He has your eyes, dear,” James said as he wrapped his wife in his arms.

Harry was shocked. He didn’t know that a portrait of the two of them even existed. He had always wished that there was one. He had spoken to enough portraits at Hogwarts and in other places but had never even suspected that there would be one of his parents. He felt Pansy’s hand on his back and he turned and smiled. “This is amazing!” he said with joy.

“Who is this, Harry?” his mother asked.

“This is Pansy, my soul mate. We were matched with the Potions and Parchment spell.”

Both his parents beamed. “Congratulations! Will we be grandparents soon?”

“Dad!” Harry said blushing.

Pansy smirked. “Harry has talked me into having four children.”

Harry turned redder. “But not for just yet,” he muttered.

“I always wanted a big family,” his mother said with a smile.

“There is a large nursery here in the castle. I bet you’ll find many of your baby things there, Harry,” his father said.

“Really? I didn’t know this place even existed, let alone that we lived here.”

“We never lived here, but we came to visit often. This was my parent’s home and they died the year before you were born. With the war going on we just didn’t have the time to get the place put to rights. Sirius said that we should have hid here rather than Godrick’s Hollow, but I felt a smaller house in a less obvious place would have been safer. How is my friend, Sirius?” James asked.

Harry immediately lost his smile. “He’s gone, Dad. Bellatrix killed him.”

“I thought he must be gone. He would have come to see us if he was still alive,” his father said sadly. “That family was full of darkness and betrayal. It doesn’t surprise me that his own cousin killed him.”

Harry decided not to get into details and didn’t want to think of one of the hardest times of his life. “Where is the nursery, Mum?” he asked.

She grinned. “It’s on the third floor, the last three doors on the right side. It’s rather large, but it has wonderful natural lighting that made it such a happy room. You loved to play there, dear.”

“Harry, will you and your bride live here?” his father asked, hopefully.

Harry turned to look at Pansy. “I don’t think…”

Pansy interrupted. “Of course we’ll live here. It’s the Potter ancestral home isn’t it?” she said squeezing Harry’s hand.

“Really?” Harry gasped in joy. “What about…”

“We can renegotiate later, dear,” she whispered in his ear.

Harry blushed. “Our wedding is in three days,” he said to his parents.

His parents smiled at the blushing son that they hadn’t seen in years. “Go ahead and look around, dears, we will have plenty of time to talk later.”

“Oh, and Harry? Do you suppose you could move our portrait? We’d like to be somewhere where we have a better view. We’re getting tired of staring at these walls. This is the only magical portrait we had done so we can’t even move to another one.”

Harry nodded. “Of course!”