Once Was Lost

Chapter 3

Natalie"New York! New York! New York!"

The roar of the crowd, even from inside the VIP lounge, was very nearly deafening - and the match hadn't even started yet. I could only imagine what the crowd would be like when things actually kicked off.

Right at that moment, I was thanking whatever deity was out there for the couple who lived in the apartment next door. Months earlier, they had offered to watch Fletcher and the girls whenever Taylor and I had to go out - and tonight, we had taken them up on their offer at last. For tonight was the final of the 2007 season of the United States Powerball League, to be played between the New York Revolutionaries and the Tallahassee Hurricanes, and if I'd had to bring the kids along I'd never have gotten a moment's peace.

The season ending was a relief, to be honest. From the time we had returned from England until this day, our lives had been ruled by nervous anticipation - today's match was the first final that the Revolutionaries had played in for ten years, and I tended to put that down to the efforts of the team's coach and their captain, the latter of whom just happened to be Taylor. Since the Revolutionaries had made the finals, the coach had been running them nearly ragged, and Taylor often came home exhausted. Now that the season was ending, life could return to some semblance of normality.

"Excuse me, but do I know you?"

I knew that voice from somewhere. I twisted around in my seat to see a woman who looked to be somewhere in her twenties, dressed in jeans and a dark green T-shirt. Dark red curls tumbled unrestrained over her shoulders, and mirth sparkled in her blue eyes. It took me a little while to realise who she was.

"Rina?" I asked, finally recognising her, and she nodded. "I don't believe it! How are you?"

Rina's real name was Amorina Groomsbridge. She had been one of my roommates at Amargosa Valley. We'd ended up losing touch after graduation - she had returned to Maine, and I to Georgia, not believing that we would see one another again. At least, certainly not at a Powerball match. I normally stayed at home and listened to the games on the wireless, but tonight's final was Taylor's first as the captain of the Revolutionaries, having been elevated to the position just before the beginning of the season. And I for one wanted to see for myself how he managed this particular responsibility, rather than waiting to read about it in the Chronicle.

"I'm good," Amorina replied. She raised an eyebrow "I never thought I'd see you at a Powerball match. You always used to boycott them." She indicated the seat next to mine. "May I join you?"

"Of course." I picked my shoulder bag up off the seat beside me so that Amorina could seat herself. "So what brings you here?"

"My brother plays sweeper for the Revolutionaries," she replied. "And he asked me to come and watch him play. You?"

"My boyfriend's one of the strikers for the Revolutionaries," I replied. "Not to mention he's the team captain." I found it very difficult to keep a note of pride out of my voice as I mentioned that last part.

"You and Taylor, you're still together? After all these years?"

I nodded. "Nine years on Halloween."

"Damn." Amorina's gaze drifted to my hands. "And you're not Bonded?"

I shook my head. "No. Taylor doesn't want to, and I'm not about to force him into it. Besides, it hasn't stopped us from starting a family."

The VIP lounge slowly filled over the course of the next half hour, though I barely paid attention to the entrance of the other VIP pass holders. Instead, I kept my gaze fixed on the charmed doorway, awaiting the traditional entrance of the team captains.

I wasn't disappointed. At precisely a quarter past seven, the door opened and the team captains made their entrance. I didn't recognise the Hurricanes captain - a wiry young woman dressed in a dark blue shirt with a dark grey collar and sleeves, dark blue shorts with a dark grey stripe down each leg, and black fingerless gloves - but I most definitely recognised the Revolutionaries captain.

He was dressed in blue and white - a blue shirt with white sleeves and collar, and blue shorts - and was pulling his gloves onto his hands as he walked over to where I sat; he grinned at me as he did up the brass buckle on each glove, and unwound his blue bandanna from around his wrist, tying it over his hair with a practiced ease.

"All fired up?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Put it this way - if I don't get out there in the next ten minutes, I'm going to be the cause of a rather spectacular light show," he replied.

One of Taylor's abilities was lightning - ordinarily, only air elementals possessed that particular ability, but the star signs of Gemini and Pisces were so similar in their inherent traits that a Piscean quite often possessed the abilities bestowed upon a Gemini, and vice versa. And his favourite way of letting off steam, short of playing a match of Powerball, was creating elaborate light shows.

I was about to open my mouth to speak when the voice of the evening's commentator sounded over the wizarding address system. "Captains, please report to your respective dressing rooms," instructed the lightly accented female voice.

"I'd better go," Taylor said; he bent down and kissed me on the lips. "Wish me luck."

"Break a leg," I whispered in his ear. He drew back and gave me a strange look. "It's what they say in the Muggle theatre," I informed him. "Saying 'good luck' is supposed to be exactly the opposite. I thought you knew that."

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged, before heading off to join his teammates.

Once Taylor and his opposing captain had left, and the noise from the crowd had died down somewhat, the same voice as before sounded over the magical speakers that were situated in the corner of the room nearest the door.

"Madame witches and gentlewizards, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to the 2007 final of the United States Powerball League. Tonight's match is to be played between the Tallahassee Hurricanes and the New York Revolutionaries," the voice informed us. As the team names were announced, the twenty-two players ran out onto the field and took up their positions; when the final player was in their place, a quiet pop sounded, and a pane of what looked like clear glass shimmered into existence right before my eyes.

Amorina giggled next to me as I gave the glass a tentative poke. "It's just like one of those Muggle television things," she explained. "Only with one of these little wonders, you can watch what you want to, not just what the powers that be want you to watch."

"Oh..." I gave Amorina a grin of thanks, and set about trying to get my screen to work. I managed it right around the time that the match began, and decided to focus primarily on Taylor and his companion striker, Clare McFarlane.

It wasn't long before I realised that the Revolutionaries coach had made the right decision in elevating Taylor to the position of captain. He was an excellent strategist - which I knew already from our occasional chess matches while we were still at school - and it showed in the way he directed his teammates in the various formations that I could tell that they had been practicing and polishing all season. Lightning crackled across the pitch, fireballs were flung back and forth, the weather changed at the whim of individual players - it was utter mayhem.

And I loved it.

I could see now why Taylor was so passionate about Powerball. Not only was it highly charged and lightning-fast, but it gave him the one thing he craved above all else - a sense of belonging. On the pitch, a player's abilities - or indeed, their parentage - didn't matter. If an elemental was in decent shape, quick on their feet, willing and able to work in a team and to follow directions, and had a high level of competence in the use of their abilities, then they could play Powerball. And Taylor was all of those - he was thin, almost dangerously so, but he was much stronger than he looked, and faster on his feet than most Muggle Olympians. He worked rather well in a team, following instruction and direction without protesting. And his abilities were beyond description - his empathy was the most polished of his abilities, and his lightning wasn't much far behind.

Ninety minutes of fast-paced, utterly unpredictable play later, the Revolutionaries came out on top, beating the Hurricanes twenty-five points to ten. And as the chairman of the United States Powerball League, presented the League trophy to Taylor, and he raised it high above his head, I felt a surge of pride. That's my boyfriend, I wanted to shout out to one and all, but I kept my mouth shut. As much as I disliked reading and hearing all the conjecture about whether or not Taylor was taken, I'd learned over the past three years that players' significant others tended to find themselves on the negative end of journalists' quills. Therefore, I felt it was in my best interest to keep our relationship private.

Not long after the trophy was handed over, I gathered up my things and bade Amorina farewell, with a promise to owl within the next week, and exited the VIP lounge. From there I headed as fast as I could to the players' entrance. Leaning against the wall just next to the doorway was Taylor - he was back in his street clothes, his hair was damp and pulled back into a ponytail, and his black backpack sat at his feet. He gave me a grin as I approached.

"So what did you think?" he asked after we had embraced each other tightly.

"It was amazing," I said honestly. "And congratulations - you did great out there."

"I did, didn't I?" He chuckled. "I'm going to owl Mom and Dad when we get home. They won't want to wait to hear about this."

Later that evening, after we had returned to our apartment from the team gathering that had been held in honour of the Revolutionaries' victory, I ducked next door to collect Fletcher and the girls while Taylor owled his parents, and we owled out for Chinese food instead of cooking.

"I'm off to bed," Taylor announced when we had finished our meal. He certainly looked exhausted - his hands shook ever so slightly, dark shadows had appeared beneath his eyes, and he was quieter than he normally was. They were signs that he needed a good night's sleep to replenish his magic and energy stores.

I had just cleared the kitchen table when I heard it - a crashing noise from the hallway leading toward the bedrooms and bathroom. I dropped the dishcloth in the sink and hurtled from the kitchen to find Taylor lying there on the carpeted floor, out cold.

I froze for the barest of moments, before turning on my heel and running into the living room. There I lit a fire in our fireplace, flung a generous handful of Floo powder into the roaring flames, and dropped to my knees on the hearth, ignoring the protests of my kneecaps.

My head licked by emerald flames, I screamed, "St. Augustine's Hospital!"

* * *

Taylor

During the past six, almost seven years, I had prided myself on my ability to stay uninjured most of the time, and out of the 'tender loving care' of the Healing profession. Any injuries I did sustain (the worst of which had been a shattered wrist during my first season playing for the San Diego Watchers) were put to rights by either the team Healer or (less frequently) the neighbourhood Healer. And most of the time, whenever I was injured it didn't necessitate a visit to the hospital.

So much for lasting the entire seven years without taking a trip to hospital.

"Mr. Chambers-"

"Please don't call me that. I'm not my father."

The Healer, a young witch with black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, wearing pale yellow robes that had 'Healer Hamilton' embroidered in black on the front, graced me with a tight smile. "I apologise." She glanced down at her clipboard. "Taylor, then. Would you be able to tell me what happened prior to your collapse?"

As I told Healer Hamilton about the events that had led up to finding myself in the hospital, a bright pink quill scribbled everything I said down on a long scroll of parchment. When I had finished speaking, she took a wand from her robes, muttered something to it, and pointed it directly between my eyes. "Diagnose," she said clearly.

A spark jumped from the tip of the wand to my forehead, sending me cross-eyed. I managed to focus properly just in time to see the quill resume its scribbling. It scribbled frantically for near on a minute. At last, it slowed down for long enough that I could read the words 'severe magical exhaustion' upside down, before it stopped scribbling completely and hopped off the parchment. Healer Hamilton took her wand away from my face and pointed it at her quill, and sent it flying across to the desk in the corner.

"Well, it looks to me as if you're going to be in here for a couple of weeks," Healer Hamilton said as she read what her quill had scribed. "You've got a pretty bad case of magical exhaustion."

I groaned. "You're kidding me."

"No kidding. I'm going to admit you straight away, which means I need to take your wand and any other implements of magic from you for safekeeping. You'll be reissued with them upon your discharge." She held out a hand, and I began emptying my pockets. As soon as I handed over my athame, Natalie came in and very nearly threw herself at me.

"You scared the shit outta me!" Natalie very nearly shrieked. "Don't ever do that again!"

"It's not as if I did it on purpose!" I shot back. "You think I like being in the hospital?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Natalie said, sounding wounded. "I just..." She ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "I thought I'd lost you," she said in a very small voice.

"You're not going to lose me," I chided gently. "I am going to be around for a very long time yet." She opened her mouth to speak, but I pressed a finger to her lips to hush her. "I won't make any promises, you understand, but I'll do my best."

Natalie nodded, seeming to be happy with this. "How long will you be in here?"

"Two weeks or so. It's magical exhaustion, so I can't be anywhere near magic - they had to take my wand and my athame away so they can't leech my magic stores from me. I'll get them back when they turn me loose." I kissed her nose and gave her a smile. "But after I get out, how about we leave the kids at your parents', and we spend the weekend in Philadelphia? It's been a while since we spent any time there."

"Sounds good to me," Natalie agreed.

* * *

Three weeks later (I had taken an extra week after my discharge from St. Augustine's to recuperate at home), we sent the kids off to Natalie's parents' and headed off to the capital city of the United States Magical Congress, Philadelphia.

It wasn't all to be rest and relaxation, though. Not only was Philadelphia the seat of the American magical government, it was also a repository for all adoption records. So, naturally, she'd decided that our little weekend away was also the perfect opportunity for me to start the ball rolling in my search for my family. Of course, there was the fact that out of Sarah, Miriam and myself, only I resided in the United States, so the responsibility for kicking off the search rested with me alone. Once I had a good idea of where we would need to begin looking, I would get in contact with Sarah and Miriam. Only then would the two of them travel to the United States, Sarah with Draco in tow most likely.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I muttered as we walked through the corridors of the Division of Magical Community and Family Affairs, heading for the Registry of Births, Deaths and Bondings.

"You were the one who wanted to start this ball rolling in the first place," Natalie reminded me sweetly.

"Yeah, well, that was before I found out that I'm a halfblood - that's probably why my mother essentially abandoned my sisters and I. It's just...what if we manage to find her, and she doesn't want a thing to do with us?"

"I'm sure she had a very good reason for having the three of you adopted," Natalie said reasonably.

"But why would she have separated us? I didn't even know I had sisters aside from Elissa until just before I turned seventeen. That's the one thing I just don't get." We stopped walking in front of a door, and I examined the lettering on the frosted glass panel that was set into the door's upper half before reaching for the doorknob. "It's now or never, I suppose."

The room we entered was small and cramped, and smelled of dust and parchment. I immediately sneezed three times in quick succession, before starting to curse up a storm in a number of African languages. The sound of someone clearing their throat stopped me right before I called Merlin the dirtiest name I could come up with, and I turned to see a witch sitting behind a wooden desk. She was eyeing me with a mixture of awe and disdain.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"I'm researching my family history, and I'd like to view the birth certificates of some of my family members," I replied, lying so effortlessly that I surprised myself.

"I see," the witch said, her tone of voice clearly telling me she didn't believe a word of what I said, not even for a second. "And what would these family members be called?"

"Diana Lawyer, Clio Taylor, and Isis Lawyer."

"And your name?"

"Jordan Lawyer," I replied, deciding it was in my best interests to use my birth name.

"One moment, please." The witch turned around and disappeared into a back room. Barely five minutes later she returned, carrying a small stack of parchment scrolls. "Please be careful, these scrolls are fragile," she warned, before conjuring up a desk and two chairs.

"Thank you," I said, and the witch nodded before returning to her work.

Natalie and I seated ourselves at the conjured table and began a careful examination of the scrolls. Three were birth certificates, and three were marriage certificates. I decided to begin with the birth certificates - they seemed to be a good starting point.

"What were the names on that adoption record I had owled to me?" I asked without even looking up from the first scroll.

"Isis A. Lawyer, Diana Catherine Lawyer, and Clio R. Taylor," Natalie replied.

"Thought so," I said thoughtfully, setting the first scroll aside and taking up another.

When we were finished looking the scrolls over, I dug in my pockets for the Muggle pen and notebook I always kept with me and made a few notes. "I think we should start with my aunt Clio first," I said.

"Why her?" Natalie asked.

"My name is the same as her married surname," I replied. "If that's not a good omen, I don't know what is." I gathered up the scrolls once more and carried them to the front counter. "Thank you very much for your help," I said, and the witch nodded without looking up. "Just one more thing - you wouldn't happen to have any record of where Clio Taylor is residing, would you?"

The witch let out a quiet sigh, asked me to wait, and disappeared once more into the depths of the registry office. She returned with a thick book, opened it to the 'T' section and scanned the rows of tiny lettering. When she had found what she was looking for, she took up a quill and scribbled down an address on a slip of parchment, and handed the parchment slip over to me. I gave her a smile and pocketed it. "Thank you very much for your help," I said, before leading Natalie from the office and back out into the corridor.

Outside in the bright summer sunshine, I fished around in his pockets again and took out the slip of parchment. "Oh you are fucking kidding me," I whispered as I read the address.

"What?" Natalie asked.

"You know what my address was when I still lived with my parents, right?" I asked.

"Yeah," Natalie said slowly.

"Look at this." I handed Natalie the slip, and she read the lettering for herself.

"1736 Harborside Place, San Diego, California," Natalie read out, before looking at me. "You mean-"

"My aunt, Nat," I said. "My own aunt lived next door to me my entire life, and I never even knew..." I shook my head. "How could I have missed something like that?"

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked me.

I took out my notebook once again and tucked my aunt's address inside. "I'm going to owl Sarah and Miriam, and we are going to pay dear Aunt Clio a visit."