Ebb and Flow

Althea's Cottage, October 1982

***

Althea took the manila envelope into her hands. "Thank you," she said, feeling for the thick, stiff photographs inside.

The unassuming man in the grey jacket smiled. "No worries," he sighed and nodded toward the envelope. "Everything you need is in there," he added and flicked the envelope with his forefinger. "Very easy to find, actually."

"Really?" Althea breathed, tightening her grip upon the envelope. "I just--I just didn't know where to look, I guess."

The man shrugged. "I reckon it's why you hired me," he said and winked. "If you need--"

"I'll be sure to call on you," Althea said and held up the envelope.

"Right."

The man nodded and went to turn, but as he did so, Althea asked, "Where did you find her?"

The man paused and smiled. He opened his mouth to speak, but all Althea heard was the static from a wireless.

"Sorry?" she said, furrowing her eyebrows. "Again, please?"

The man raised his eyebrow and spoke--Althea only heard the static once more.

Althea sighed disappointedly. "Right, thank you."

The private investigator nodded. "Good day."

Althea shut the door to her cottage and tore at the manila envelope. Her heart skipped as she peered inside the dark envelope. You might've prevented me from finding her, she thought, pleased with herself at her cleverness, but a Muggle can. Althea's hand slipped inside the envelope and she eased out the thick stack of photographs. Her heartbeat quickening, she slowly turned over the stack of photographs. How did she look? Was she happy? Was she well cared for? Althea's body ached to see her child.

"Oh God," she whispered, her hands trembling as she turned over the photographs.

Suddenly, Althea let out a scream.

"NO!" she growled, slamming her back against the door. "NO!"

Instantly, large tears formed in her eyes, obscuring the still photographs of village scenery. Where was she? Where was Prudence? Althea frantically flipped through the photographs--each one documenting village life without Prudence. An older gentleman tipped his hat to nothing. A toddler cried as an invisible person poured sand upon him. An opened supermarket door with an empty cart. Althea threw the photographs across her drawing room floor and slowly slid down the door. That bastard, she thought and growled, that clever bastard has kept her from me!

"I have nothing!" she shouted and covered her face with her hands.

I hate him, she thought, her tears intermingling with her hot breath upon her palms, I hate Dumbledore.

***

Althea wrinkled her nose. "Where are my knickers?" she wondered aloud, looking about the car seat.

John Harrington chuckled. "In some hedgerows," he said, zipping his trousers.

Althea made a quiet noise of disgust. "Take me home," she said, folding her arms.

John stuck out his tongue. "Not to that wretched cottage."

"It's my home."

"Northfield is your home," he said, smoothing his hair in the rearview mirror.

Althea sighed loudly.

John smirked. "If you insist, my dear."

"I do."

John started his car and eased them out of the grove of trees. This was decidedly stupid, she thought, looking out the window at the darkened landscape. Althea attempted to pull her skirt over her knees, but it was a futile effort. What was I thinking? Bloody John Harrington...look at that awful smug expression. Althea made a face. God, that it was actually good was the worst bit. John slowly pulled into the gravel path that led to the cottage. He stopped the car and grinned at her. Althea couldn't help but cringe as she looked at him--her red lipstick smeared upon his face and neck...he insisted upon it.

"God, how I've wanted you," he whispered, leaning closer.

"Well, right, happy birthday," she muttered, opening the door.

"I won't forget this birthday gift," he said and kissed her cheek.

"Yes, you will," she whispered and held up her wand. "Scourgify. Obliviate."

John jolted his head back and blinked. "Althea?"

Althea smiled sweetly. "Thank you, for escorting me home," she said, stepping out of the car. "It was very kind of you. Tell your granddad that Gran says hello."

John rubbed the side of his face. "Yeah, cheers," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Right, thanks."

Althea waved pleasantly as John drove away. "Berk," she muttered and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Althea?"

Althea turned to see Remus Lupin in her doorway. Illuminated by the light from the drawing room, Althea noticed his robes were shabbier and his hair longer.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, nervously smoothing her dress.

"I was to meet you," he said, stepping out of the way so Althea could enter. "I'm leaving soon."

"Oh, oh right," she murmured, sweeping the hair from her face. She frowned, as she smelt of John Harrington's cologne. "Well, do come in, won't you?"

"Was that?"

"Yes," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "It was John Harrington. He escorted me home."

Remus faintly sneered.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, pointing her forefinger at him.

"I wasn't," he said, holding up his hands. "I--"

"You're just as bad as--"

"Let's not--"

"What?" she asked, slapping her hand against her thigh. "Don't bloody judge me, Remus! What am I to do?"

Remus was silent.

"St. Mungo's doesn't want me. It didn't matter that I fought against Death Eaters in their bloody hospital. All they cared about was that I hopped on the back of Sirius Black's motorbike."

"You could try--"

"What? Nonnatus?" she laughed and shook her head. "They would need references and my Healers-in-Charge were not apt to give them. Save a bunch of Caretakers from a cursed Healer and I'm a disgrace to the profession!"

Remus closed his eyes.

"Oh, and the best part? That bloody cursed Healer was on the board that rejected me! Ha! Do you believe that?"

"I wouldn't--"

"I have nothing," she said, placing her hand upon her breast. "What is left for me? You'll leave and--"

"Come with me," he said a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks, "to Brazil. No one would care or bother us. We could be--"

Althea's eyes widened slightly. "You don't want--"

"Don't say that," he said, stepping forward, a faint boldness in his voice. "It would be good for you--for the both of us."

"Remus--"

"You have to get away," he said, placing his hands on her arms. "This cottage...Northfield...it's killing you--"

"I'm already dead," she said and gently lifted his hands from her.

"Althea--"

"I might as well stay here and face my bloody destiny," she said and looked around the drawing room. "The eccentric spinster Countess of Northfield with the bitch of a grandmother."

"You need to get away from those Muggles--"

Althea laughed bitterly. "They don't care. They don't care that I ever enjoyed a shag with a Dark Wizard."

"They don't care about you," he said with a touch of anger. "Self-absorbed, that--"

"Go ahead and judge who I shag, Remus," she said, folding her arms. "Isn't that what the Wizarding world does best? I reckon all I need is a Centaur and I will have horrified every facet of respectable Wizarding society."

"It's not what I meant," he said, through gritted teeth.

"What did you mean?"

Remus raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to speak, but frowned as something caught his eye. He stooped to pick up a photograph that had partially slipped under the sofa. He looked upon the photograph that should have shown Prudence--his face became white.

"Althea, how--how did you get this?"

"What?"

"This," he said, holding up the photograph. His lips upturned into a sad smile. "She--"

"You can see her?"

Remus nodded, transfixed with the photograph. "Can't you?"

Althea shook her head. Her stomach lurched forward. Remus could see Prudence in that photograph. It meant he could see her in all those photographs. Althea caught her breath.

"Describe her to me."

"You can't?"

"I can't," she said, balling her hands into fists at her side. "Describe her to me."

"How'd you--"

"I hired a private investigator," she said, stepping forward. Althea peered at the empty photograph. "I can't see her. Describe her, please."

Remus nodded as he looked from her to the photograph. He faintly furrowed his eyebrows. "She looks like you," he said and tilted his head to the side. "Her hair is very curly, two large pink bows, a pink dress, of course--"

"Is she happy?"

"She looks," he began and laughed quietly, "bored."

"Bored?"

"She's had enough of her blocks," he said, pointing to the bottom of the photograph. "Not a very interesting toy, is it? "

"No," she murmured, looking upon the patch of grass. "I have more."

"More?"

"Loads more," she said and gently bit her bottom lip, "and I can't see her."

Remus looked up from the photograph. "Would you like me to describe them to you?"

"You would do that?"

Remus nodded. "Without hesitation," he said and sat upon the sofa. "Bring them to me, please."

Althea smiled. The first true smile in ages.

"Thank you," she whispered and kissed his unshaven cheek. "I will."

She felt Remus smile against her lips.

Althea sat next to Remus and curled up next to him, resting her head upon his shoulder. Remus pulled the large stack of photographs from the envelope and sighed.

"Oh, this is a good one," he said and Althea closed her eyes. "Incredibly naughty."

Althea imagined her daughter's gleeful baby tooth smile as Remus described how Prudence poured a shovel-full of sand upon a small boy's head. Did Mrs. Parker run to the little boy's aid? It was very easy to imagine herself inside that photograph as Remus described every detail. Prudence, in her purple smock, happily played in the plastic sandbox with the toddler neighbor boy as Althea chatted away with her neighbor. She spoke about Prudence's cleverness and how she was growing up too quickly. Her neighbor thoughtfully agreed and warned Althea of what was to come as Prudence aged. Althea did not object to the advice and she prayed Prudence would not demonstrate her magic as she was wont to do. As the two women discussed the important gossip of the village, they temporarily forgot about their well-behaved children...until they heard a yelp and cry. Althea quickly turned to see her Prudence, with the plastic blue shovel in her hand, standing over the crying, huddled boy. She profusely apologized to the boy's mother about her daughter's unprovoked behavior. The mother wiped the sand from her crying son's sandy blond hair and murmured that she reckoned they were even. The women said their goodbyes and confirmed the play date for the next weekend.

Remus sniffed and she heard a shuffling of the photographs. He laughed lowly. "I reckon I know what her Animagus form will be," he murmured, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

Althea shifted and cuddled close to him. We should've run away, she thought as Remus described Prudence on all fours chasing a small dog. You hurt almost as much as I do...I know what she meant to you...you were shocked but pleased when I asked you to be her godfather. Althea recognized the sadness in Remus's voice as he mused about what type of dog Prudence would be. He decided she would be a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel and Althea wrinkled her nose at the suggestion.

"You don't have to--"

"No," he said and rested his head atop hers. "I want to do this for you...and I can't help but be selfish. I miss her, too."