Second Chance

Lisa was staring dreamily out the window of her father's beat-up old Ford Prefect. The boot of the car was stuffed with her beloved, battered old trunk, her younger sister's shiny new one, her father's large suitcase and her brother's smaller one, and her littlest sister's oversized rolling backpack. The inside of the car itself was rather crowded. Her father was driving, hunched over the wheel and squinting through the torrent. Her brother sat next to him, trying to read the book Lisa had given him in the insufficient light. Her littlest sister was only five, so she was still in a carseat on the right-hand side of the car. Her younger sister, eleven, sat slumped in the middle seat, her arms crossed over her chest, chomping on some Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and looking sulky.

"Dad!" Lisa yelped, spotting the house. "We're there!"

Her father braked and peered across the street. "Where?"

"Over there." Lisa unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'll go make sure it's where we're supposed to be. Wait here...I'll be right back." She threw open the door, ran across the street, and knocked loudly.

~~~

Rain lashed the windows violently, rattling and plinking. A fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace, warming the room. Ginny sprawled on the floor, working on her Transfiguration homework. Ron lay on the opposite side of the fire from her, his head down near hers, reading The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Hermione and Harry sat on the window seat, Hermione with Hogwarts, a History open on her lap and Harry with his beloved Firebolt and the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday, talking in quiet, solemn tones about something no one else could catch. Lupin reclined in an armchair, ostensibly reading the Daily Prophet; in actuality he was watching Harry and Hermione, and though he'd never say anything to anyone his heart was breaking. The twins were on the sofa, going over their paperwork for the week and working out what they needed to restock on for Monday. Mr. Weasley sat on the loveseat, actually reading the Daily Prophet, Bill was at the small table in the room writing a letter to Charlie, and Mrs. Weasley could be heard cleaning the pots and pans after dinner. It seemed fairly peaceful inside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

So all of them were startled--and frightened--to hear a sudden and loud knock at the door. Lupin got up rather hesitantly and walked over to the door. Terrified though he was, he had to at least see who it was. He opened the door, bracing himself for a large crowd of black-clad Death Eaters pointing their wands at him.

There weren't any. The only person on the doorstep when Lupin opened the door was a teenage girl with her hair drawn back in a dripping ponytail, grinning up at him through the pouring rain. "Hi," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the torrent. "I'm s'posed to give you this...hold on." She reached into the canvas rucksack, dug around for a second, then handed him a book.

Lupin peered at the title. "The Celery Stalks at Midnight?" he read aloud, slightly confused.

"Oops. Wrong one." The girl took the book back, dug into the rucksack again, then paused. "Is this it? Yeah, this is it. Here." She handed him another thin tome, this one entitled That was Then, This is Now.

Everything clicked. Lupin smiled. "Oh...you must be Samuel Turpin's daughter."

The girl nodded, pleased. "Yup. My name's Lisa...so this is where we're supposed to be?"

"Of course. Come on in, get dry."

"Let me get my family first...and my things. Be right back." She turned and ran towards a little beat-up silver car across the street.