1. The House on an Unknown Lane
- The House on an Unknown Lane
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the series belongs to J.K Rowling, and the team behind the movie magic, but I do own my OC Guinevere Bancroft and her family, there’s also many more important OCs who belong to my friend and co-author, LadyHimawari, so I owe her a lot of the credit and big thanks to her characters; also look for a companion story to this one from her. There’s other authors/friends who also inspired me as well. I felt the need to revisit something that had once made me happy, and brought me joy and still does~ Please enjoy dear readers and fans of the franchise/fandom~
December, 1991
It was a hundred year old log cabin, and looked the very image of cozy, from the view of the cat that sat outside and watched it with rather pensive sharp eyes. The eyes moved from the map in front of them to the house.
So far she had seen no one come and go from the house – could she really have been here?
According to Beatrice and her daughters, Annabelle and Elizabeth, this was the address mentioned in their letters. The two twin girls had exchanged many letters with Guinevere Bancroft ever since she graduated and left Hogwarts.
“Glad you found the place Professor McGonagall,” a withered old voice spoke up from behind the cat, making her head whirl to look at the owner.
An aging man in silken robes and a pointed hat, sauntered towards her giving her a smile, “There are no prying eyes and muggles here. You can transfigure back into your form,” he let her know softly.
The cat soon began to reshape and grow in form and size, taking on the form of an older woman, with a wise thin narrow face, sharp and pointed nose, cool eyes, pointed hat, with her hair elegantly pinned back and out of her face in an orderly bun, and green and black robes, “Good day Professor Dumbledore,” she nodded her head.
“It is indeed,” he agreed with her looking at their surroundings, “I must admit, it is not quite what I expected of such a shining former pupil of ours,” he commented absently.
His companion nodded looking at the rustic location, before they walked along the dirt road leading up to the front door of the cabin, “Yes, quite a change from the Miss Bancroft that we do know,” she stated.
They stood before the front door and knocked twice – it would have been rude to enter without being invited, and they didn’t think Guinevere would appreciate her home being entered without her consent or permission. The locks behind the door clicked and it swung open with a creak, revealing no one. The door had been opened by magic; their former student had been gifted for a reason after all, no surprise she had been sorted into Ravenclaw house. The door swung wide open, letting them both in. Inside it was just as picturesque, with a warm cottage interior. Knick-knacks and such were shelved on the walls or hung in decorative patterns, giving the home a more personal touch to it, coupled with the warm yellow wallpaper on the walls. Their eyes followed the corridor that led to the living room – how funny, that outside it looked smaller than the inside, and looked so much wider and larger on the inside, no doubt by magic.
Dumbledore led the way and paused as he saw Guinevere seated in an armchair, completely alone. She looked so different from the clever, and lively student he remembered; she had laughed easily, and always had a witty remark ready, but all in good humor. Guinevere Bancroft was intelligent, and worthy of her house certainly – she had developed a keen interest in alchemy, charms, herbology, transfiguration, and potions and many of the professors seemed to like her for her precociousness, well, save for the potions professor. But now, she looked different somehow…her face seemed set, regardless of the youth still holding to her delicate heart-shaped face, and pursed rose-tinted lips. Her eyes seemed distant, hollow, and tired; the young woman had not slept recently. What had happened?
Guinevere gazed at them transparently and passively, “Professors,” she acknowledged.
Minerva stiffened behind Dumbledore, also seeming to take in the girl’s appearance – her former student was dressed in a black buttoned up cardigan, and long flowing black and gray skirt.
“Miss Bancroft,” Dumbledore returned the greeting, giving a faint smile at her, “It is lovely to see you. My apologies if we seem to be interrupting anything you might be working on.”
“M’not,” she replied instantly after his statement, with her tone seeming to have dulled.
Dumbledore nodded, “I trust you know then, why we have come,” he commented staring at her, gauging her reaction.
Her gaze was unblinking at him, “I know,” she nodded pensively, “Now I trust you would know when I ask, why me,” she questioned tilting her head subtly to the side.
Dumbledore’s smile grew, “You were and still are a talented witch and alchemist, with all your efforts and hard work, I could not think of a better person to take over this post,” he explained then laughed lowly, “And I do not think Nicolas Flamel would be up to the task,” he remarked cleverly.
This managed to coerce the barest of smiles from her, “I see,” she quipped, “Well, how can I refuse such a promising offer, with there nothing being left for me here,” she hummed, as her eyes left him and seemed to look past him then drifted off to the side thoughtfully.
McGonagall stepped forward this time, “So you agree to come and work with us,” she asked giving her a wry smile.
Guinevere lifted her hazel eyes up to her and nodded, “Yes.” She spoke curtly and uncrossed her legs and leaned back into the armchair, seeming to relax.
“When can we expect you,” Dumbledore asked pleasantly.
Guinevere looked down at her lap, then licked her lips, “After the new year,” so in a few days time, she would return back to her old school.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out evenly through her nose.
“You need time to get your affairs in order here before returning,” the older bespectacled woman asked her, or rather assumed.
Leaning into the chair and tilting her head back, her eyes opened back slowly, “Some things I need to see to and finish here,” she murmured delicately.
The coldness seemed to seep through all of the walls of the cabin, and Dumbledore wondered why he hadn’t realized it before through the air, and through Guinevere’s demeanor – she was in mourning…
He nodded, “We will await your arrival,” he said amiably, “and look forward to you returning,” he gave her a smile before turning around in a flurry of his robes and beckoning McGonagall to follow after him.
This meeting was at an end now.
The young woman hummed, “Thank you. I look forward to the work,” she muttered, “Until then,” she bid them a temporary goodbye.
Their parting was polite and brief, when both parties thought there would be disagreement and resistance – but Guinevere was tired, and there really was nothing left for her here. Not anymore.
Once they had gone and the young woman was alone, Guinevere let out a hollow sigh and stared hard at the door.
She was tired here, and she both wanted to be here, and away from here all at the same time. But this place now only served to drain her the longer she stayed here and she could not bare it, when she would see…see him in every room of this place. This was a lovelier place with him here, and now he wasn’t. Perhaps it was time to say goodbye to this place…for now at least. And since Dumbledore had come, he had known where this place was, then it was no longer private. It was time for her to say goodbye to this little house on an unknown lane in the middle of no where.