No Means to Use the Stove

Merciful Oblivia

Anna closed the door after her and lowered her suitcase to the floor of her one-bedroom apartment. She removed her shoes and her coat and with a fluid continuation that seemed like a well rehearsed act, picked up the suitcase and moved towards her bedroom to unpack it. She wanted it to be final. She wanted to put everything back to its place and start her own life again at once.

She didn't make one unnecessary motion as she swiftly opened the suitcase and moved around the apartment organizing everything. Dirty clothes - in the laundry basket. Toiletries - in the bathroom. Returning from the bathroom - take a plastic bag from the kitchen for trash. Trash - that was the first time Anna stood still since her return from the Burrow.

She had a candy wrapper in her hand. It wasn't an ordinary wrapper - it wasn't an ordinary Muggle wrapper, that is. For a wizarding wrapper it was perfectly normal. It changed color every second and the writing - WWWTongueToffee - pulsated in a slow rhythm on its side. That was why she had kept it. That and the memory of Charlie's enormous all-the-time-growing tongue.

She had a suspicion he had eaten the candy knowingly, to amuse her and his brothers' children. He must have had enough experience of their fathers' jokes to recognize the candy. It had been a sweet gesture. She chuckled. If salivating on your fiancee with an over-grown tongue hanging from your grinning mouth ever could be considered sweet.

Anna shook her head, angry with herself. No time for memories, now. The question was: did she want to remember later? Should she save the wrapper, and his letters and the photos she had taken at the Burrow? She would have to hide them, of course. She wasn't supposed to tell anybody about the wizarding world....

Then she realized something and froze. Maybe she hadn't got a choice. Maybe she couldn't decide herself whether she wanted to remember. Maybe - not maybe. Definitely.

* * *

"Hey, Charlie, what would you have done had I yelled FREAK and ran away?" she said teasingly leaning against his chest.

"Well...I suppose I would have had to Obliviate you," he grinned and wrapped his arms loosely around her.

"Obliviate...oblivion...you mean you can make me forget things?"

"Sure. What would you like to forget?" he laughed and then became serious. "No, it's a very risky business, Obliviating someone. One should never do it without a solid reason. There can be all kind of complications...and things."

"Why it is used then?"

"Well...you know we can only tell about us if the Muggle in question is going to become a part of our world," he kissed her forehead, "like you. Otherwise it would be a huge security risk. You know, people running around yelling FREAK and such."

"So what? There are no witch-hunts anymore, you know. Not the real ones,at least. And no one would believe tales about magic and wizards."

"You'd be surprised," he said, "if I told you some of the stories Dad has to tell. Muggles don't believe in Magic, not right away. After a pile of spells done in front of them, they usually do. And you know what's the most usual reaction?"

"Awe? Wonder? Fascination?"

"Fear." He was serious now, very serious. "And from fear, it's only a small step to hatred. And that's where the witch-hunts begin."

"But if people knew you first, then they surely wouldn't fear you..."

"Yes. Which is the point here. You know me."

She didn't think it would necessarily take seven months and an engagement not to be afraid of Charlie Weasley, but she only asked: "So only the Muggles that are part of your world..."

"Our world," he interrupted.

"Our world," she continued, even though it somehow didn't sound right, " are allowed to know about it?"

"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor!" He was smiling again, his previous solemness forgotten.

"There are no Muggles in Gryffindor if I understood it correctly earlier," she replied sarcastically and carried on: "How about breakups?"

"What?"

"Breakups. Say we would break up, would I be allowed to remember you?"

"Silly girl. We won't be breaking up." He kissed her shoulder.

"But if we were," she insisted, "There must have been "inter-species" relationships that have ended badly. I'm certain your administration won't let it's policy of secrecy be ruined by some bitter Muggle woman..."

* * *

At the time they hadn't finished the conversation because he had kissed her again on the shoulder and on the other shoulder and on the neck and on the lips and then she hadn't been able to talk sensibly anymore and he had probably done it deliberately to avoid answering and now she knew the answer.

She would see Charlie again. Charlie or one of his brothers, but in all likelihood he would come himself. He was a decent person, after all. He would take care of his own errors. If she would have to have her memories stolen, he would do it himself, to be gentle.

Anna glanced at her watch. It was only nine am. On Sunday he would sleep late. Molly wouldn't wake her visiting children before ten. She had at least two hours, maybe even more.