Life seemed simple. An illusion, of course, yet we lack control of time; folks enter the world the same way they leave it. Elphinstone’s father, flying with the spirits, passed down this advice when he was a small boy, and again when he went to school, and thrice when he came of age. Word for word, the man never deterred from the message, not that his only son let them slip from his mind. The drink brewed and rooted the memories.
He stared at the ceiling and laced the silk sheets through his fingers. An owl had flown out of the open window after he received payment for his services. The day’s newspaper lay on a pillow on the other side of the bed; a crumpled sheet of parchment lay next to it. The covers had been yanked free of wrinkles. The wax from the spent candle dripped on the surface of the bedside cabinet. His cloak hung over the open door of the armoire. He listened to the woman gathering her things in the room, and watched her reflection in the mirror as she tied her dark hair back and hooked the back of an earring.
â€Yes?†Minerva met his gaze.
–His son was born last night, at three in the morning,†he said, picking up the hurried announcement. –She wrote this. Where was he?â€
–Mr. Crouch?†She shook her head and draped a fine emerald green travelling cloak over her arm. The black box and tissue paper lay on the floor. –In his office.â€
â€In his office,†said Elphinstone, overriding her guess. Contempt filled his tone.
–We discussed this last night.†She reminded him of this with a sad smile as she checked the time. –Don’t look at me like that. She married him for his name, and Kathryn got what she deserved. I’m sorry. You told her not to marry him. He’ll ruin her. He’ll break her until there’s nothing but pieces. Congratulations.â€
–Well!†Elphinstone gaped at Minerva, taken aback by her harshness. As far as he knew, she had never met Mrs. Crouch. He got out of the bed and stepped into the bathroom. He got ready for the day and walked back into the room combing his dark hair. He shrugged it off. He took his cloak off the armoire and fastened it around his neck. –In all fairness, not that I’m jumping to his defense, because I’m not,†he conceded in a rush, –but admit it. She’s a beautiful woman.â€
Minerva parted her lips to speak, yet she fell silent when she heard hurried footsteps on the ancient creaking staircase. They heard voices. One was an unmistakably croak of the old barman, Mitch, and the other was a woman’s. The door opened before either Elphinstone or Minerva had time to cross the room. Mitch stood there furious, still in his bed things, his hair shooting in all directions. He held his blonde-haired little girl in his arms. A black woman dressed in long satin robes plastered a wicked smile on her face.
Elphinstone cursed under his breath. His heart dropped into his stomach.
–I couldn’t do nothing.†Mitch waved his free hand at his uninvited guest. –She just – you handle her.â€
Elphinstone almost pointed out to Mitch that he owned the Three Broomsticks; so, technically, the man could do whatever he pleased with the establishment. He stopped short. The woman invited herself into the room and sat on the ruffled covers. She crossed her legs. One of her heels swung off her foot and he caught a whiff of her perfume, an expensive catch, as she passed.
–Mitchell!†Elphinstone rounded on the barman as the proprietor fled downstairs. He slammed the door. He flatly ignored introductions and froze at the sight of these two women. –I’m in hell.â€
–I’m his wife,†said the woman, holding out her hand. –Aren’t you a professor? You’ve been keeping him company?â€
–Beautiful woman,†said Minerva,, speaking to herself. She slapped Elphinstone’s hand way from the door handle and wretched it open. She left.
–Wait.†Elphinstone fled after her and fell after she snatched her arm away. –You don’t understand. She’s – she’s nothing!â€
Minerva laughed. She stopped at the bar and glared at Mitch. The place was empty, for it was just after six in the morning. Chairs swept of the ground and settled themselves on top of the polished tables. Rosmerta, the little girl, held out her arms to her father, and Mitch picked her up and settled on his bar.
–I knew nothing.†He feigned innocence, lying through his teeth. Mitch flattered under her stern glare and amended his part bit by bit. –All right, maybe I knew of her, but everyone has.â€
–Mitchell!†Elphinstone threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Elphinstone acted as though the woman were invisible as she joined them. –Minerva, hear me, I beg you.â€
–‘Rule One: Honesty, we expect it all times. Rule Two: Undying commitment: that’s a given. Rule Three: Faith, because we’re together in this, all of us, always. Enough said.’†Minerva spun around and threw the decrees Elphinstone crafted himself with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She nodded, seeing she hit her mark. She draped the cloak over her shoulders and threw a black jewellery box in the air. Mitchell called after her, but she left and started down High Street.
Elphinstone caught the box and hung his head.
–She’s always like that?†asked Mitch.
–Shut up, Alyson.†Elphinstone stopped the woman before she opened her mouth. She had no right to throw accusations. Alyson Zabini played with men like marionettes’ they played to her pleasures until she drained them and left them alone. She’d been married four or five times last time he’d checked; Elphinstone Urquhart had foolishly been her first, trapped into an arranged marriage. She kept her name in every hand she played. –What do you want?â€
–I’m surprised.†She walked behind the bar and helped herself to a drink or two. –Well, boys, reminds you of our cherished wedding, eh? Mitchell was a poor choice for your best man, my darling.â€
–That’s mine?†Mitch recovered first and held out his hand for the half empty bottle. He put his daughter down. –Rosmerta, get Dad’s keys in the cellar. Go on.â€
–Cute.†Alyson patted Rosmerta’s passed as she passed her. –Where’s my money, Elphinstone? My alimony, I want it.â€
Mitch wasted no time with this one. He fired off every name in the book. Elphinstone thought he hardened his daughter early, prepping her for the pub, because she certainly wasn’t out of ear shot. The folks in the village, even those at the post office, would have caught this rant. Mitchell had been his best friend since their school days, and he was quicker to anger. Elphinstone let him have it and ran for cover with Rosmerta in the cellar. The temperature dropped considerably as he went underground. The stone walls gave the place a dreary air.
–Hi.†Rosemerta smiled at him and glanced at the ceiling. –He’s really angry. You want something?â€
–Dad fights my battles.†He kissed her on the cheek and shook his head. –I don’t drink, remember? Morning, my love. Where’s your mother? At market?â€
–Yes. She says you’ll kill yourself; she says you’re a fool.†Rosmerta might be a child, but she presented herself as a young woman because of her father’s crowd and quoted like a parakeet. –She says -â€
–-Elphinstone’s an idiot for chasing after a girl who clearly doesn’t want him.†He took care of the criticism for her. Rosmerta nodded vigorously, making her ears flap in front of her curls. He scooped her up and locked the wine cellar. He tossed her into the air. –Mitchell needs to find you a new hobby. Listening at doors!â€
Rosmerta squealed with happiness and caught the keys. Elphinstone kissed her and played with her hair. He didn’t know how long they were down there, but the barman’s daughter had enough time to reel off the wine list and recite a blend of gillywater. The door slammed hard. Mitchell came into his cellar and plopped himself on the bottom stair.
–We have to burn that bitch to the ground!†Mitchell took out his pipe and took a long drag.
–Delicate ears!†Elphinstone cupped his hands over Rosemerta’s ears. –You heard that, love?â€
Rosmerta nodded, giggling at her father’s fiery insult.
–She’s been censored for a while.†Mitchell shrugged. –Seriously, though, she owes me sixty Galleons. Sixty-two, really. That was a good bottle.â€
–Here.†Elphinstone took a pouch out of his inside pocket and tossed it to him. He pocketed the ring.
–Give up. She don’t want you.†Mitchell spoke softer to his friend. –No means no.â€
–No.†Elphinstone made his mind up long ago. –Not her. Not yet.â€
Elphinstone kissed Rosmerta good-bye and escaped before the breakfast crowd wondered into the pub for a bite. The quiet had left High Street and it looked as though the place had been taken over by a flock of birds. Students swarmed into the shops and ran around with their friends. Elphinstone clapped his hand on his forehead; he had forgotten about the students coming into Hogsmeade Village. Was it already Saturday? No wonder Minerva worried about getting back. The kids swarmed into Honeydukes like angry bees. Elphinstone ducked into the shop to pick up an forgotten order. Within minutes, he was out of there and walking along the street.
He spotted her emerald cloak and followed her close. When she finally close to acknowledge him, which was some time because he refused to drop his plea, Minerva acted like a stranger towards him. He thrust the tin into her arms.
–Thank you, Mr. Urquhart, sir,†she said, keeping a hand on a student’s shoulder and steering him away from the temptation of the Hog’s Head.
Sir! She hadn’t called him that in years. So they were back to that, were they?
–I forgot them,†he admitted, avoiding her eyes,
–Ah.†She looked as though she wanted to say something else, but she eyed the student. Elphinstone wanted to thank the boy for inadvertently saving him a wound. –Good day.â€
–I’m sorry.†He spoke to his shoes.
–I’m sure you are,†she said coolly. She watched the boy head into the Three Broomsticks and failed to ignore his endless apologies. She looked left and right, making sure the coast was clear before she dropped her demeanour. –No. I asked you. I asked you!â€
She was right. She had asked him, passed it off as a joke, if he had a wife when they’d first met. She’d been shy about making a move then, too. She wouldn’t admit it, but he knew she had left the Ministry because of their relationship.
–I’m not married!†He took her face in his hands and kissed her. –You love me.â€
–It’s not -that’s not it. You’re married? Lovely. You know when you should’ve mentioned that? Let me help you figure that out!†Her voice screeched as her anger escalated. She lowered her voice and took breath. –The night you and I ... yes, that’s when you should have said something. It takes three seconds!â€
–I’m sorry.†What else could he say? He denied nothing and put it all on the table. He restated his defence. –I love you and you love me.â€
–Not today. I warned you not to play games with me.†She leaned in closer to him, mirroring his softness. Elphinstone jumped back, writhing his hands like she’d burned him. –What’s her name?â€
–She’s nothing.†Elphinstone shook his head. He refused to drag her into this. Minerva raised her eyebrows, waiting for him. He caved. –Alyson Zabini. She’s my wife. Past tense.â€
–Alyson.†She repeated the name slowly. She started off in a random direction, and he let that sink in. He told her that they had married at seventeen, and he’d never sealed the deal. They kept walking, and he kept talking, blowing off steam. The students looked at them, but none of them had the courage to say anything. She offered nothing, letting him finish because tedious interruptions would prove pointless. –So, Mitchell didn’t lie? You really hate her?â€
–Yeah, no, he’s an honest fool, a stupid one, but an honest one nonetheless. He shared a bed with her on our wedding night.†Elphinstone ignored her shock. He wanted to get through this as quickly as possible, keeping in mind that he may have single-handedly destroyed their friendship because he had forgotten to lock the bedroom door. –Better him than me. I despise her, but I pay her to shut up. Last night, you said you loved me.â€
–You heard that?†Minerva laughed softly and took his hand. –She’s engaged, you know. It was next to the birth announcements. A man who owns an apothecary.â€
–Poor bastard. I’ll send my condolences.†He made a mental note to send a sympathy card. They started back towards the school. Minerva dropped his hand once they reached the grounds. He delighted in her laughter, surprised his offhand comment went over so well.
–And Mr. Urquhart?†She caught the black gate as the last few latecomers headed back to school. She handed the gift back to him, tossing away a batch of fresh ginger biscuits. –Don’t think this changes anything. Alyson. It’s not good enough.â€
He nodded, biting his lip. She slammed the gates shut and locked them with a tap of her wand. Light rain started falling and she opened a black umbrella. The candlelight shown through the windows of the castle, a safe haven for a comfortable dinner. He imagined her sitting in between the headmaster and the Potions Master, enjoying the autumn feast and acting as though nothing happened. Nothing had changed. Elphinstone stood there, rooted to this place, as night fell. He felt cold, saddened, and for the first time, quite alone.