Their Reasons

Chapter 1: The Workaholic

She looked perfectly normal. A black T-shirt peeked out from under her simple grey sweatshirt and her pants were dark, the material undistinguishable from a distance. To Percy Weasley, she looked insignificant, like any other Muggle.

Durham, Meka, her file said, threat level, medium. Heritage: unknown. Magical abilities: unknown.

Percy wasn't an Auror, but this girl, this American, looked harmless. Although she didn't look naïve, it didn't look like she knew about the wizarding world or the war either. She was smiling at the children playing in the park.

Two little boys had started fighting, and Durham got off her seat. She squatted, putting her hands on the boys' shoulders. "Hey," she said casually. "Where are your parents?"

Percy couldn't hear the boys' replies, but Durham then asked, "My name?" They nodded. "I'm Meka. I came here to live my Great-Aunt Gretchen. She lives in that house over there."

Percy let his eyes follow her arm to look at the house she was pointing at. The paint was peeling and the garden was dead.

"Yeah, she's pennies short of a dollar."

Percy was as confused as the boys looked. "What?" they asked.

"American joke." She shrugged. "Sorry."

One of the boys looked over at Percy suspiciously and Meka looked over her shoulder. "Do you know him?" she asked him gently.

The boys must have said no, because she headed for Percy. He considered Apparating, but it would have been obvious.

She was striking, dark-eyed and ash blonde. She was small-built but still had a figure. Her scowl had no affect on her appearance. "Hey, Red!" she demanded aggressively. "Do you enjoy creeping people out?"

He blinked at her, at a loss for words. "Pardon?"

"You're scaring those kids." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Either join us or go." A girl threw a ball in their direction and Meka caught it in midair.

A couple of the children cheered and Meka bowed. She turned back to Percy. "I've been here for three weeks. I've met nearly everyone here." She held out her hand. "Meka Durham."

"Percy Weasley," he muttered, shaking her hand.

"Weasley?" she questioned. "Haven't heard that one yet." Durham threw the ball at him and he barely caught it. "Hope you play football."

Percy hadn't had that much fun since he started Hogwarts. Football, or as Durham called it 'soccer', was not Percy's strong point but it kept his mind off his job at the Ministry and what he was sent here to do. To see if she was a witch or, if she wasn't, if she knew her Great-Aunt was part of this world. For those few moments, he felt like he was missing nothing. Like his job wasn't everything.

Durham noticed the change in his expression. Pulling him toward a bench, she told the kids, "Go ahead! We adults have to talk."

Percy didn't try to stop her but quickly regained his composer. He straightened his clothes. "I must go," he said sharply. "I have a job to do."

"What exactly is that job?" she whispered. "Spying on me?"

He didn't reply and just walked away, leaving her there.

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"You are an idiot, Percival," he whispered a week later. "Durham might be a criminal and she has you wanting to act like a Muggle."

He was standing in her neighborhood, this time under a Disillusionment Charm. There was no sign of her. No sign of a blonde head in the windows of the run-down house, no sign of her among the children or in the small corner store.

He had been watching her every day. It wasn't polite, and he knew it, but this stranger had him wrapped around her finger. He looked down at her file for the twelfth time that morning.

Date of Birth: September 22^nd 1978. She was almost nineteen, only two years younger then him. She was probably right out of school, here for the summer before entering the work force.

Only known living relative of wizarding decent: Gretchen Durham, Squib. That must be the great aunt she told the children about. He had tried to contact the American government for more information, but he only received a single parchment. "The person in question is Latent, and her file is currently under review. We will be in contact once the file is available."

He wasn't sure that was the case, because other countries had decided to limit contact with the British Ministry because of the recent rumors of the Dark Lord. He wasn't even sure what the term 'Latent' meant and he hadn't received another owl explaining it.

He had gone against orders, trying to discover who Durham was. Umbridge had told him that she was probably just a Muggle and since she was a foreigner, they couldn't lock her in Azkaban without due cause.