Spaces

Margot Shaw lay in her bed in the house at the end of Piewicket Lane, feeling terribly uncomfortable. The summer air had made the old white house sticky and hot. The air outside contained the slightest of breezes, but not enough to waft any fresh air through the aged building. Besides, Margot wouldn't have opened the windows to let the air in anyway. Surely there were spells to make the house cool, but the weren't very useful when there was a Muggle staying there. And fans were out of the question, Margot had forgotten how one worked. So the heat remained, and Margot lie awake.

Her thoughts chased each other through her head, as thought often do when the body is restless. She thought of her family, all gone now, having been killed in the line of duty or do to her line of duty. She thought of her friends, or the lack thereof. She thought of her school days, and her classmates, and wondered who had gotten married to who and what their children looked like. She thought of everything, and nothing at all. It was a typical night for Margot at the Piewicket Inn.

She rolled over on to her side, and glanced at the clock. 12:03 am, June 23. Odd. The exact day two years ago that she quit. The day she strolled into Madeye's office and told him that she had had enough. The day she packed her boxes and walked out of the Ministry building for good. June 23. The day she became an ex-Auror. She rolled back on to her back. Was it really the 23rd? She hadn't though it was for another week or so. Maybe she just couldn't keep track of the days anymore. It wasn't in Margot's nature to keep track of dates in a religious manner, but some days you just don't forget.

Now that her mind had turned to darker things, it was getting harder to fall sleep. Margot allowed her thoughts to drift. She hadn't really thought about her former job in months. An article in the Daily Prophet might startle a memory out of her, but other than that she put no independent thought into it. And that was just fine with her. She had no desire to return to that high stress world. Her Auror certification had run out 18 months ago, and she really had no need to be re certified in a field she no longer worked in. And the Ministry of Magic no longer needed as many Aurors on staff, what with the downfall of You-Know-Who and all. Besides, the Piewicket Inn provided Margot with a relaxed and comfortable lifestyle. Sure, cleaning clogged toilets wasn't the same as hunting a mass murder, but the job had its perks.

Margot flipped onto her back, and stared at the ceiling. She was fine without the excitement, the intrigue, and the action. Life at the inn was plenty fulfilling, wasn't it? Watching happy couples on their vacations together, seeing little children zip over the lawn, and cooking delicious for appreciating customers was extremely satisfying, right?

Right?