Chapter 1: Drawn to the Fire
There was a crash as a young witch fell backwards over the edge of the cream-colored sofa, and it was with obvious lack of concern that her companion continued washing dishes in the kitchen. It had been demonstrated in Evelyn Longstone's first year at Hogwarts – Lauren Rosenberg had been in her fourth year at the time – that she was a clumsy sort of character, and so Lauren saw no reason to worry about every little trip or fall her best friend accidentally engaged in.
Of course, Evelyn wasn't clumsy at all on a broomstick. On the contrary, she had a sort of grace, a harmonious flow that was not witnessed when she was on her own two feet. She was one of the best Beaters the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team has ever seen, and she aimed to become a professional Quidditch player once she reached the minimum age of twenty-one. It must seem strange, having the word grace and Beater in the same context, but if there was such a person that could be named a 'graceful Beater', it would be Evelyn.
The flat was small, but it managed to fit both young women in quite nicely, especially since they had expanded it slightly with magic. The living room was small and cozy, with the cream colored couch along with two others forming a semi-circle around some cushions and facing the TV. The dining room had a single wooden table in the center of the tiled floor, and connected to it by a single doorway was the spacious kitchen. Lauren had charmed a large square of the wall above the sink so that it reflected the weather outside, and at that moment it overlooked London, dim gray light lighting the kitchen and thick raindrops pounding against the glass.
Evelyn rubbed her head tenderly, her blue-gray eyes closing in a grimace as she sat up, pushing her mess of dark brown waves – Lauren had had the pleasure of cutting it not a month ago, and so instead of tumbling down her back, her hair was neatly cut just below her ears – out of her face.
"Oh, I'm fine Lolo…don't worry, nothing's broken. No really, I'm fine, don't strain yourself. God forbid your being concerned for my welfare…I can get up on my own..."
The girl rolled her eyes, flicking her glossy, reddish-golden hair over one shoulder to get it out of the way as she continued to place dried dishes in the cupboard. "If anything was broken, you would be in too much pain to be sarcastic. Trust me; I've dealt with plenty of broken bones."
Of course she had. As a Healer, and all.
Lauren worked at St. Mungo's, on the 1st floor, also known as the floor for Creature Induced Injuries. She loved magical creatures, and whenever Evelyn's father or mother came to visit, the two would sit and chat for hours about magizoology – Evelyn's parents were magizoologists themselves, and owned a small shop in Diagon Alley called Longstone's Magizoology – and how it could be used to further knowledge on how to treat creature-induced injuries.
Evelyn sighed. "Yeah, yeah…whatever." She got up, and straightened the couch before moving to the dining table, where her shoulder bag was packed and ready. In it was her plastic folder with all of her paper work for that day, along with a notepad that had several complicated spells written down on the top page. She had looked up those spells in case of an emergency at the office.
Of course, emergencies happened all the time where Evelyn worked, which was the Ministry of Magic. The only problem was that none of those emergencies had anything whatsoever to do with her job, which was in the Department of Broom Regulation. The most excitement Evelyn ever got was when a broom malfunctioned. The most unusual case so far was a broom that decided that it was not a broomstick, but instead a horse, and went around bucking and galloping around the office until Evelyn subdued it – not as easy as it sounds – and removed the malfunction with a well-chosen spell.
It was an important job, if not lacking in adventure and thrill. All broomsticks made in England went through Broom Regulation – not literally in and out of the office, but instead every day she and her co-workers traveled to various establishments where broomsticks were produced and checked over the current stock. The stock checks were scheduled at once every two weeks, for that was about the average time it took for makers to create a stock, or five thousand brooms. Brooms couldn't be put on the market unless approved by a Broom Regulation official, and so it was essential that there be enough people in the Department to effectively cover all the broom makers of England.
Evelyn yanked her small brush through her hair, wincing as the some hairs were torn roughly from her scalp and tangled in the bristles of her brush. After glancing in the mirror and making sure her robes hung neatly around herself, she tucked the brush in her bag and took out her wand. A stolen look at the clock on her wrist told her it was 7:15 AM…she had fifteen minutes to get to work. Plenty of time.
Lauren poked her head out of the kitchen, and jabbed her wand at Evelyn sternly, and Evelyn sighed as Lauren's magic pressed the wrinkles from her robes instantly, and cleaned a small stain on the visible part of her white button-up shirt. A small shiver went through her entire robes, and after a moment Lauren removed her wand, smiling widely.
"There! Now you look presentable. Oh, and can you pick up some milk after work? We're almost out."
"Sure." Lauren was such a milk-addict. Evelyn didn't care much for the stuff, but Lauren drank two full glasses every day at the minimum.
Evelyn fingered the ironed robe, and smelled it. Sure enough, it smelled like honeysuckle, a little spell that Lauren always added whenever she did laundry.
Lauren was, to say it mildly, a neat-freak. And in comparison, Evelyn was…well…not a neat-freak. She wasn't a complete slob, but instead was reasonably cluttered. She liked the way she knew where everything was in her room, even if it was under clothes and behind cabinets. It was familiar to her, and although she didn't mind if Lauren nit-picked on the rest of the house, her room was off limits.
But everything else was Lauren's domain, and Evelyn knew better than to fight her on it. So she just smiled, and said her goodbyes before grabbing her Nimbus 2001 from its position in the closet – she had received it as a Christmas gift nearly eight years ago, when she had been made the first girl on the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team to earn the position of Beater – and slinging her bag over her shoulder. She could have Apparated, but flying was something she loved…and if she wanted to eventually try out for a professional Quidditch team, she would need to keep her skills up.
Evelyn cast a quick Impervious charm over herself to prevent the rain from soaking through her robes and hair, followed by a strong Disillusionment charm, and stepped out onto the small balcony that overlooked London in its dreary, rainy glory.
The young woman smiled, hardly noticing the familiar feeling of the rain hitting the small shield around her, and mounted her broomstick, kicking off into the rain. Evelyn loved flying, it made her feel more like a witch than any spell ever did, and she savored it as she soared effortlessly over the town, low enough to see the people walking to their destinations. Most had umbrellas, and so when Evelyn saw one man without one it naturally drew her attention.
The young man was hunched over himself, hands shoved angrily into his pockets, and so the woman couldn't see much of his face. His hair was a silvery blonde, and it was vaguely familiar, but Evelyn couldn't put her finger on it. It didn't matter much anyway, because she was soon past that particular sidewalk, and so she pushed it out of her mind.
Her hair was blown backwards as she mentally urged the broomstick to go faster, and leaned over the wood as she completed a sharp spiral. She righted herself, giggling at the exuberant feeling that filled her at the action.
All too soon, her flight came to an end as she angled downwards towards the small, run-down pub that was situated in a respectable neighborhood, wedged between a Muggle grocery store and clothing shop. The owner's husband was a Muggle, so they served both Muggles and wizards, as long as the wizards didn't use magic on the premises. It was also an obscure Floo Network to the Ministry. Most didn't know about it, seeing as it wasn't publicly advertized, and Evelyn wouldn't have heard about it at all had she not stopped to help the owner's wife one day – nearly two years ago, now that Evelyn stopped to think about it – where she was struggling to carry in boxes of butterbeer into the cellar. Evelyn stopped to help, and was shocked to have the muggle woman ask that she use a charm to lift the boxes.
The wife was so grateful that she introduced Evelyn to her husband, who was busy working inside. They were kind enough to inform Evelyn of a secret Floo fireplace just upstairs, and when Evelyn told them of her job at the Ministry, they immediately insisted that she use it instead of traveling by broom, which would take an extra twenty minutes. Evelyn offered to pay, but they wouldn't have any of it.
And so, every day, Evelyn traveled to the pub and took the Floo to the Ministry. It was shocking, how open and warm the elderly couple had been – and still was – and Evelyn made sure to sneak a few Sickles under the floor mat behind the bar whenever she could.
The young woman quickly ducked behind a large metal garbage disposal situated at the corner of the street, alongside the alleyway, and removed the Disillusionment and Impervious charm, as well as shrinking her broom so that it fit inside her bag. Evelyn shuddered involuntarily as the rain suddenly crashed down on her in icy sheets, and she quickly ducked into the pub.
Evelyn straightened, and found that the pub was empty save for the husband and wife – Humphrey and Delilah Trosburn – softly conversing near the muggle box Lauren called a 'television'.
"Hello, Evelyn! How is it that a young lass like you can get out of bed dis early in da mornin'?" Humphrey greeted her in his lilting Irish accent, scratchy with age, and Evelyn grinned as she moved over to the married couple. Delilah smiled warmly, and patted the girl's shoulder when she drew nearer.
"She's not like us yet, darling. We're old and decrepit, remember?"
Evelyn made to protest, but Humphrey surprised her by nodding sagely. "Aye, love, dat we are. But lucky for us, Evelyn'll be here ta sweep up our ashes when we go!"
The couple cackled at Evelyn's horrified expression, and Delilah glanced at the clock that hung above the polished bar.
"Oh dear, you're nearly late! So sorry to have kept you, dear, hurry along now."
Evelyn smiled. "It's really nothing, Mrs. Trosburn. I'll see you two tomorrow." she assured the elderly woman as she hurried upstairs, and the last glimpse she had of the couple before she ascended to the second level was their wrinkled faces smiling back at her.
The upper level was clean and kept, and Evelyn could see the kitchen as well as a living room and bedroom down another hall – she assumed that was where the Trosburns lived when not tending the bar. The witch sighed as she reached the familiar fireplace situated just inside the living room, and reached into her pocket for the small pouch of Floo powder she had in her robe pocket. The Trosburns had a small pot of Floo powder up on the mantel, but Evelyn refused to inconvenience the couple more than she already was.
The young woman took a small pinch of the silvery powder, and purposefully threw it into the crackling flames. It immediately turned a vivid shade of green, and Evelyn quickly stepped into the fireplace, ducking to avoid hitting her head. The space was so cramped that the witch was practically crouching, and so she wasted no time in firmly stating her destination, quickly closing her eyes as she did so.
"Department of Magical Transportation, Broom Regulatory Control, Ministry of Magic."
Then, with a sudden and uncontrollable spinning, Evelyn was on her way. The urge to open her eyes was strong, but she knew from experience that that would only make her unbearably dizzy and/or sick to her stomach. And so she remained as still as possibly, keeping her arms tight against her sides, and clutching her bag tightly.
Finally, the spinning stopped, and Evelyn ungracefully fell out of the fireplace, her face colliding with the cool wood that made up the floor of the sixth level of the Ministry. Evelyn moaned in pain as she awkwardly sat up, rubbing her nose tenderly, and froze at the sound of a giggle to her right. She looked over to see Ginny Weasley standing there, and the smirk of amusement made Evelyn's cheeks burn as vividly as Ginny's hair.
"He-Hey Ginny…I was just…"
"Tasting the floor? I've heard of chocolate floorboards, but somehow I doubt that the Ministry would see it as very productive." Ginny smirked even more widely, and reached over to help Evelyn to her feet. The dark haired witch brushed off her robes, and looked at the freckled witch across from her. Ginny's hair was impossibly long, currently in a high ponytail, the ends of which still reached her waist.
"Anyway, Ginny, what are you doing here?"
Ginny was – and had been, for the past year and half – the Flying Instructor and Quidditch Referee for Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Madam Hooch had retired after many faithful years, and since Ginny needed a job to earn enough money for a Firebolt – for she shared Evelyn's goal in becoming a professional Quidditch player – and so Minerva McGonagall had offered her the position. It had lead to Evelyn and Ginny meeting, and eventually becoming close friends.
Ginny smiled sheepishly. "Actually, Evelyn, I was here to ask a huge favor of you."
"Hm?" Evelyn made her way towards her department's area, Ginny walking close beside her. Ginny nodded, and tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear, watching as Evelyn fished her files out of her bag.
"My brother's wife is having her second child any day now, and my mum and I were going to go and visit for the next few days in order to help her out. It would only be until Friday, and" Evelyn mentally noted that today was Tuesday; she remembered seeing it on the calendar she and Lauren kept above the sofa. "so I was coming to ask you if, starting tomorrow, you'd be willing to teach the first years for a few days."
Evelyn frowned. "I'd love to, but my work–"
Ginny brightened. "Already taken care of!"
"Taken care of as in you've killed my boss? I somehow doubt that that would be seen as legal or moral for several reasons…"
Ginny rolled her eyes, and went on. "No, silly, I just talked to your boss like…five minutes ago, and he agreed to give you a few days off starting tomorrow."
Evelyn did not like that innocent look on Ginny's face. It rang every single suspicious bell she possessed.
"What did you tell him, Ginny?"
Ginny smiled sweetly, and hugged Evelyn. "Okay, so tomorrow, just meet McGonagall at the school gates at seven in the morning, and she'll give you the rundown. Thanks so much, Eve! See you later!"
And with that, Ginny was darting off, and Evelyn turned to furiously bellow.
"What did you tell him? If it's something embarrassing again, I swear to whatever you hold holy that I'll–"
"Miss Longstone!"
Evelyn's shoulders sunk at the sound of the department head's voice, and she slowly turned around to see Earnest Pille standing just a few feet away, his bushy eyebrow raised in incredulity.
"Now, while I understand that you're going through a particularly trying time at present, that is no excuse for you yelling and disrupting the workplace."
Evelyn frowned, trying to think of why now was possibly a trying time for her, and then remembered Ginny's sweet – and undoubtedly evil – smile.
"Yes sir…I understand." Evelyn ground out, thinking of numerous ways to painfully mutilate a particular Weasley, and the man nodded curtly before patting her arm.
"I can't imagine what it must be like…my wife never had the misfortune of having it, but from what Miss Weasley said, it sounds rather revolting and painful. You're so brave to suffer through today, just to prove that you're dedicated to your position. Perhaps it's a good that you're taking some time outside of the office…it'll give you time to gain your bearings."
And with a small smile, the head of Evelyn's department walked off, his pudgy form soon disappearing around the corner. Evelyn stood, her lips in a tight line as she dismissed the idea of mutilation or even torture. Mr. Pille would probably tell the entire Ministry – he was a gossiper, worse than the mothers in Diagon Alley – and Evelyn would have to face numerous people asking if she was alright and making embarrassing assumptions.
No…only killing Ginny would do. That devil child had it coming for the humiliation she was putting Evelyn through.
***
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head with a small sigh. The office was made up of several large work areas; meaning that all of the Broom Regulatory Control members were separated into groups of four, and each had their own little area in which each member had their own desk and space. It was a calm, peaceful area…mostly because of the lack of people. Ten people had quit recently, meaning that more work was expected of the remaining people. Evelyn's room lost two of its workers, so it was only Evelyn and her co-worker Jeremy Thompson – he was a three years older than her, and had been in Gryffindor during their Hogwarts years – left.
Evelyn felt someone's hand gently karate chop her neck, and she turned to see – speak (or think) of the devil and he (or she, in Ginny's case) shall appear – Jeremy standing behind her, his hands innocently tucked into his pockets. He wore a rich purple shirt under his robes, and it contrasted nicely with his mocha-colored skin and dark eyes. Evelyn smiled at him, and he tugged on her hair before plopping himself in the chair next to hers.
"So, I hear you're taking a few days off…because of some obscure disease in an unmentionable area. Is this true?" He seemed to be trying to suppress a smile, and Evelyn groaned, resting her head on her desk in frustration.
"I'm actually helping out a friend, but it doesn't really matter what I say, because people will just think I'm too embarrassed to tell the truth. It's all Ginny's fault…" Evelyn grumbled, and Jeremy laughed.
"Ginny's a Weasley, Eve, they've got mischief in their blood. Trust me, I was in the same year as those twins…it was hell if you got on their bad side. Luckily, we Gryffindor roommates were smart enough to keep them happy."
"No, that can't possibly be true. You, smart? That's impossible!"
Jeremy winced. "You sure know how to stoke a guy's ego, Evelyn…"
Evelyn leaned over to bump shoulders. "You know I'm just kidding..."
Jeremy grinned. "Yeah, I know. But don't worry about the whole disease thing," Evelyn's shoulders sunk at the thought. "it'll blow over by the time you get back. And if I hear people talking about it, I'll put in a few words for you."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But in return…"
"I should have known there'd be a catch. Dammit…" Evelyn scowled, and Jeremy smirked.
"I'm a business man…I don't just hand out my services."
"Are you trying to make some obscure sexual reference, Jeremy?"
Jeremy's eyes widened. "No!" Evelyn couldn't help feeling a little miffed at the obvious disgust that crossed Jeremy's face at the thought. "I'm just saying that I need you to take care of the new guy, Mr. Pille said that he's coming in tomorrow morning, and that one of us has to show him the works."
"Oh? Do you know who it is?" Evelyn sipped at her bottled water, frowning at the pure loathing that crossed her co-worker's usually cheerful face.
"It's that little shit Draco Malfoy." Jeremy spat the name forcefully, as if trying to also remove any remnants of it from inside his mouth.
"Are you serious? After what he did, the Ministry gave him a job?"
Jeremy nodded. "I hear that he's been hiding out in Wilshire for the past few years…that little bastard."
"Wait…and you want me to look after him?"
Jeremy sighed; leaning forward to his chin was resting on his folded hands, his hazel eyes staring into Evelyn's face for a moment before retuning to the smooth wooden back of the desk.
"I just…don't think I can do it. It's different for you; you didn't have that little asshole's House stabbing you in the back everywhere you turned. I'd end up probably beating the crap out of him before he even walked through that door."
Evelyn glared at the young man, who sighed, fixing his features into an expression that Evelyn dreaded, and yet at the same time could never seem to resist. Evelyn fondly – well, hatefully was more accurate description when face-to-face with it as she was now – called it the I'm-really-serious-about-this-so-feel-sorry-for-me face.
"Please, Evelyn?"
Evelyn groaned. "But I'm leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, and I'm gone till Friday! I have to teach some little first year squirts how to fly."
"Take him along." Jeremy offered quietly, and Evelyn's tone soured, her mouth quirking downward into a disbelieving scowl.
"Please tell me you're joking. They'll flay him alive if he goes back there!"
Jeremy pursed his lips. "Well, that's an option, but it's only for a few days, right? What could possibly happen?"
"You know, I'm tempted to endure the embarrassment…this deal isn't really fair. I hate Malfoy, you hate Malfoy…and yet you're the one who's getting off scott-free."
Jeremy leaned backwards in his chair, his back popping several times as he did so. "I'll give you ten galleons."
"Nope."
"Twenty?"
"Nah."
"I'll do all of your paperwork for a week."
"…I'm just not feeling it."
"Two weeks?"
"Nope."
Jeremy scowled, but there was a sudden spark in his eyes. "I'll buy you dinner."
Evelyn's eyes snapped to his face, which was perfectly smooth, not betraying any sort of mockery or sarcasm. "What?"
"I'll treat you to lunch, anywhere you want."
Evelyn couldn't help the blush that crept up into her face, and struggled to stay casual as she turned back to her paperwork. "Be careful. It might sound like you're asking me out on a date."
Jeremy leaned over her, resting his head on his bent arm. "If it'd get me out of dealing with Malfoy, I'd knowingly eat an Acid Pop. So do we have a deal?
Evelyn blinked slowly, and stole a glance at Jeremy. His face was too close, and yet instead of feeling excitement, she only felt sadness leaking into her mind as his words sunk in. So he wasn't interested in her at all. She forced a laugh, and shrugged. Jeremy was just trying to get Malfoy off his hands; it wasn't anything to do with her feelings. It hurt, but it was the truth.
Evelyn responded curtly, not willing to let her hurt show on her face. "Fine. But it better be the best damn lunch I ever have, to make up for me looking after Malfoy for who knows how long. Can you send him an owl telling him to meet me here at six-thirty tomorrow morning?"
Jeremy nodded amiably, and Evelyn felt a sudden need to leave the room. She had never had a huge crush on Jeremy, but when he had compared dating her to eating an Acid Pop, it had stung. What was worse was that Jeremy didn't even seem to know how biting his words were.
And so, faking a smile, she excused her self to the ladies room, and hurried out of the room, leaving an oblivious Jeremy behind her.
***
At 3:30 PM, Evelyn's work day came to an end. Evelyn couldn't remember a day that she had been more excited to finally go home. The young woman quickly packed her bag and practically ran away from her office, forgetting, in her haste, to say goodbye to Jeremy. She was briskly walking towards the fireplaces situated in her department when she suddenly caught sight of two familiar people kissing rather passionately in the middle of the hallway, blocking her path.
It was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and Evelyn grimaced as they gripped each other more tightly as the seconds ticked back, showing no signs of stopping any time soon.
If Evelyn had been in a better mood, she would just press herself against the wall, easing past them while being as quiet as possible. She liked Ron and Hermione enough to where she didn't want to bother them, and she felt that they were cute enough to put on an adorable display to all the romance-lovers out there.
But unfortunately for them, Evelyn was in a foul mood, and so instead she cleared her throat loudly. She vaguely registered footsteps behind her, but she ignored them as Hermione and Ron sprang apart.
"Really? C'mon guys, get a room…just because you're hopelessly in love doesn't mean that the rest of us get a kick out of watching you two exchange spit. There are plenty of less public places to snog, I'll even show you some if you like. But for now…can you get out of my way? Trying to walk here."
"Y-Yeah…sorry…" Ron's ears were in flames, and Hermione's cheeks were crimson. The two quickly walked off, Hermione embarrassedly hiding her face in Ron's arm as they disappeared. Evelyn rubbed her face with her hand, knowing that her moment of bitchiness would come back to bite her in the ass later, and jumped at the sound of a low voice behind her.
"I was about to tell them off, but you beat me to it."
Evelyn whipped around to see Harry Potter – hero of the wizarding world and Head of the Auror Office – standing there, a smirk on his face. His scar was partially hidden by his unruly hair, and her eyes automatically glanced at it before focusing on his bright green eyes.
Harry was a year above her, and they hadn't socialized at all in school. So if he was approaching her now, it was probably because he needed something.
Why was today turning out to be such a crappy day? Everyone just using her to get what they wanted…
"What do you want, Harry? I've got a pretty hefty list of things I've got to do for people, let me just add yours to it–"
Evelyn didn't mean to sound so bitter, and was shocked into silence when Harry quietly interjected, his hands sliding into his pockets.
"I don't need anything. I was actually asking you if you would come to Ginny's surprise birthday party. She talks about you all the time, and so I know she'd want you there."
Evelyn flushed, and hung her head. "Oh. I'm…I'm sorry. My day pretty much went to hell the moment I stepped into my office this morning. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that…I feel like an idiot."
"It's okay. I've had those days too, don't worry."
He smiled, and Evelyn couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah. So, when is the party?"
"Next Friday, at Ginny's flat. I'll owl the address and the time to you by tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure, definitely." Evelyn smiled, and frowned. "Hey, can I bring my roommate too? Her name's Lauren, she was in the same year as George back at Hogwarts."
Harry frowned, thinking hard before nodding. "Yeah…I'm sure that'd be fine. So…I'll see you then, I guess."
The silence turned awkward as the two stood with nothing more to say, and Evelyn quickly responded. "Yeah…thanks again, Harry."
"No problem."
The two quickly went their separate ways, and Evelyn glanced back at the retreating figure, shaking her head. For all of his bravado in saving the world, Harry Potter was not much of a chatterbox. It was good to know, Evelyn mused.
The young woman reached the fireplaces lined up against the wall, and took out a pinch of Floo powder, watching as the flames flare emerald green, stepping into the stone structure. Evelyn clearly stated her destination, savoring the gentle warmth of the flames licking at her knees – it was large enough to stand in, unlike the Trosburns' fireplace.
When she felt the tug of the magic, she closed her eyes.
Little Cracks They Escalate by Crimson Lily
Chapter Notes: Here's the next one!
I love this chapter...i dunno, it just felt so AMAZING to write!
Hope you all like it, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!