A Change of Plans

Chapter Fourteen

It was a couple of days before Annie could get to St. Mungo's. Patsy was pretty much healed, but the Healers were curious and wanted to study her further, something that Annie was quite sure Patsy was not apt to like. She did not even try to study the maps of Voldemort's base; if she were caught with such information, it would be taken away from her quickly, and she'd never get to save Sirius, or her mother's body.

She forced herself to think of it. Yes, her mother was dead, she knew it even though she had not seen the death. She knew enough about the Killing Curse as well as Bellatrix Lestrange to know that the deed had been done. But the body...it was gone. James had told them all that awful night, after he had come through the fireplace--how Sirius was gone, captured, as well as Annie's mother.

"But she's dead!" Patsy had cried at James, Annie's mind being blank still with shock. "What would the Death Eaters want with a dead body!?!"

James had just had this sick look on his face. That look had said more to Annie than a million words could have. And she had known that she didn't want to know what the Death Eaters had wanted with her mother's body.

Part of her, of course, wanted it to be because her mother was still alive; that Bellatrix had been faking the spell, or had missed, or something. There was no concrete proof that her mother was dead--in all those movies, when there was no body, the person was normally alive. And even sometimes when there was a body--look at Search for Spock.

But this was real life. Not a movie.

Too bad. thought Annie. I could do with a few writers. And a good director. Somebody to tell me what to do and what to say.

Actually, they didn't even know if Sirius was alive, either. So she and Patsy might be just rushing in to save two people who were already dead. As if the deed wasn't difficult enough already.

Annie kept doing what Patsy had told her to do. Read slash, memorize useful quotes, think up clever ideas. It was the thinking part that got her into trouble. She often found herself, instead of thinking up good ideas, thinking of her father. How big and strong and good he had been. How, if he were still alive, he'd've been able to save her mother in a minute, and come out with her alive to boot.

Every night when she went to sleep she dreamed of him. She'd be sitting on the couch, ready to watch a movie, and he'd come out, his face a smile.

"Guess what?" he'd say. "We're out of ice cream!"

He was so happy. She'd look at him, and grin too.

"Darn it." she'd say. "What are we going to do about it?"

"Well, I'll just take a ride down to the store and get some more," was always his reply. "Can't have root beer floats without ice cream, can we?"

"Nope," she'd say laughing, and then he'd go to the door. When he opened it, a flash of green light always swallowed him up.

"NO!" she'd scream, and she'd wake up screaming it.

<><><><><><>

Observation? Patsy would find herself thinking, time after time. What do they mean by 'observation'? I haven't needed a healer in two days!

Just to prove it to herself, she paced the room as the fumed. She'd been able to walk for a while now, and though she was sometimes admittedly weak in the knees, those occurrences were becoming fewer and fewer. She was so bored, and it was worsening day after day. Because of course, when she was bored her mind wandered. To her parents.

She wondered at her own calmness. No thoughts of revenge haunted her mind, no crazy theories how they could still be alive. Her parents were dead, and that was a fact.

Is it good that I'm not dwelling on them? she wondered often, or am I actually pushing it all away?

She didn't know the answer. But the question kept coming back, time after time. Why wasn't she so upset?

She couldn't wait for Annie to arrive so her mind could be occupied with other things.

<><><><><><>

"James?" Annie asked, as she walked into breakfast three days after finding the map and gun. "When am I going to be able to see Patsy again?"

She knew what his answer would be. In fact, she mouthed along with his words. It was the same thing she'd been told since she had taken the portkey home.

"Patsy will be home soon enough; you can see her then."

James turned to look at her.

"Wait a minute," he said, seeming to be annoyed. "Were you mouthing along with me?"

"Um," Annie grinned. "No."

"Yes you were!" James demanded. "Well, if you wouldn't keep asking--"

"I don't!" Annie protested immediately. "I don't! I just want to see my best friend is all--"

"--then I wouldn't have to keep--"

"--and if you'd just let me--"

"--repeating myself to the extent of--"

Harry, who had been sitting at the kitchen table waiting for his breakfast, was watching the argument like it was a tennis match.

"I just want to--"

"--you and Patsy, always getting into trouble--"

"--she's like my sister, for God's--"

"--I swear, you like to see me sweat--"

"--cruel, unfair--"

"--no wonder Sirius--"

"STOP!"

They both looked up, surprised. James's face was red, and very close to Annie's; Annie's eyes were wide and her fist was back as if she were about to take a swing.

Lily Potter surveyed them both, fire in her own eyes.

"Now, I think that's quite enough."

"Lily..." James began, but his wife cut him off.

"No, James. The two of you have been going at it since she moved in, and I will not have it."

Woah, Annie thought. This woman could definitely take on Buffy and win any day.

Not that Annie ever watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The thought just seemed to fit the moment well, was all.

"Yes, Lily." James hung his head like he was a little boy in trouble, and Annie snickered.

Unfortunately, this only brought her to Lily's attention.

"Don't think that you are off the hook Miss Howard," the red haired witch snapped. "What is so important that you must see Patsy now?"

Uh oh, Annie thought, staring at Lily and frantically searching for a response within her mind.

<><><><><><>

"I'm going to scream."

The healer in the room did not even spare her a glance. She kept her head down low, examining Patsy's now fully-functioning leg.

"I'm serious. I can be let out of here now; I'm fine. If you won't let me out, I will scream."

Again, no response.

Is it because she's so involved with her work? Or is it because I'm part Muggle.

"You know, I'm not an animal. I can hold intelligent conversation with anyone. Well, some would argue the intelligent bit, but hey. At least I don't scratch myself behind the ears."

No small smile. No twinkling of the eyes. No sign of any amusement of any kind. Patsy knew she was right.

"Are you seriously that ashamed of working with a part-muggle? Or are you mute?"

"You know, I'm getting really sick of those wisecracks."

Patsy grinned.

"Ah, so she can speak. Although I guess that means it's a shameful thing to help a poor girl get well. Or because I'm part-muggle am I no longer a poor little girl?"

"You're a little beast who doesn't need to be here. And your beast status has nothing to do with your lineage."

"Are you saying I can finally get out of here?" Patsy asked quickly, overlooking the slight on her manners.

"Let's just say that if it was up to me, you'd already be out of here."

"Let me guess," Patsy said. "You're superiors don't agree."

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, what's taking them so long?"

The healer surveyed her as one might an annoying puppy.

"I don't believe that a muggle like yourself needs to be involved in such magical matters."

"Part-muggle," Patsy grimaced. "You keep leaving the 'part' and dash things out. And I can do magic. I probably know more about the Ministry of Magic than you do. And this whole problem is about me, for Christ's sake."

"You are a minor, and an ignorant muggle at that. There is no 'part dash' in it. You're parents were muggles. You were born without magical ability. You were hurt in a magical accident and are here so that the law may be carried out and your memory modified. And good riddance once the courts make their decision."

Patsy stared at the healer for a full minute. She was holding back too much emotion: rage, pain, confusion, disbelief. Fear.

"Modify my memory?" she finally croaked.

"I think that's quite enough for today, my dear."

Patsy turned to see Dumbledore standing there, in the door. Many things were reflected in her eyes; hurt and betrayal among them. She was too numb to speak.

The healer, happy to go, whisked out of the room. Patsy stared after her. No thoughts became words; no thoughts even formed. She was blank, white, like paper.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her, but she saw beyond the smile. She saw a man who would take away her memories.

"You have a visitor, Patricia," he said softly.

Annie bounded into the room. Happy, at last, to have gained entrance back into St. Mungo's. She was carrying a bag with Olivanders printed on the side in shimmering letters. She had obviously not heard a word that the healer had said.

Dumbledore nodded to the two of them, then let them be.

"I've done what you said, Patsy. I got the gun--it's here, in the bag--and guess what else I found! Our wands, Patsy. We can really do magic with them, I've tried!"

Wands, thought Patsy. Magic. Spells. Memory modification.

"And look what else I found," Annie went on. She pulled out a long roll of parchment, and rolled it out onto the bed. "The floor plan of Voldemort's hide out! His castle. It's--" Annie gasped, as she studied the map for the first time. "Patsy, it's in our school."

Say something, Patsy drilled herself. Make some wisecrack. Say you always knew that evil was harbored in that place. Ask Annie what else she found. Grill for details about how she found the wands, the map. Ask what spells she's tried.

Patsy looked out the window. It was light out. Is it night at home? Is it dark in America?

She opened her mouth.

"Annie, we've got to rescue them. Now. Tonight. This minute." She swung herself out of bed. "Let's go."