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Author: girlyswot Story: The Squib Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 63,028
Disclaimer: Thanks to J.K.Rowling for creating Harry Potter and his world and letting people play in it. And thanks to Gabriella Du Sult for inspiring me with George/Padma and to St Margarets for Jack Jordan and other next generation inspiration. Jack Jordan woke up happy. His wide lips curved into a smile as he stretched out his long limbs under the blue gingham sheets and counted his blessings. Number one, of course, was no more school. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed his time at Hogwarts, but he was definitely glad to have finished with essays and exams and detentions. Especially detentions. He grimaced slightly, remembering many painful hours with Argus Filch. Jack was no model pupil and he’d been itching to be free from the hundreds of regulations that ruled school life. Blessing number two: his new Speedbolt. His mother had given it to him with a guilty glance at his father which Jack knew meant that she’d spent more money than she’d been supposed to. It was brilliant. Perhaps not quite as brilliant as the Wizster 2000 Laura had been given, but still brilliant. And anyway, he was a Keeper. He needed instant speed, the flashy acceleration which the Speedbolt had in spades. Three. His face softened slightly as he thought about her. Laura Potter. He’d fancied her for ages and he’d discovered at her party last week, she fancied him too. She was a brilliant kisser. They’d had fun. In fact… he wondered what she was doing today. Maybe they could go flying somewhere. Do some one-on-one Quidditch practice. Jack rolled out of bed and twitched his curtains open. Blue sky. Not a trace of a breeze. He grinned. It was a perfect day. ### ‘Your father asked if you could go down to the Quidditch hut after breakfast. He needs a hand with something.’ Holly Jordan never looked harassed but this morning she was certainly distracted. Jack bit back his frustration. ‘I expect so. What’s up, Ma?’ He reached across for the marmalade and spread two slices of toast. Holly sighed. ‘Nothing, really. Just the usual. Do you want some coffee?’ Jack nodded. ‘Money?’ Money had always been tight in the Jordan household. Lee had a fair salary as the History of Magic professor at Hogwarts but with three children and an indulgent mother who also had an expensive career as a well-respected artist who rarely sold her work, it didn’t always stretch. Holly nodded. ‘They want to put the rent up again.’ ‘Oh.’ Jack put a hand on his mother’s shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Look, you shouldn’t have given me the Speedbolt. Why don’t you take it back?’ Holly looked genuinely shocked. ‘No, darling. It was a present. We wanted you to have it. Don’t worry.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll sell something soon.’ Jack tried to smile encouragingly, but long experience had taught him how unlikely this was. He had another brainwave. ‘Or I could start paying rent.’ Jack’s mother looked up at him in surprise. ‘Rent? What for?’ ‘The usual. Board. Lodging. Washing. Ironing.’ ‘But… what with?’ Holly shook her head. ‘It’s no use thinking I could just take your pocket money.’ Jack laughed. ‘You shouldn’t be paying me pocket money any more,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m eighteen and I’ve left school. I need to get a job.’ ‘But not just yet,’ she protested. ‘You shouldn’t rush into anything. Have a holiday. You deserve it.’ She was so sweetly concerned that Jack almost gave in. ‘No, Ma. Honestly, I’d rather help. Look,’ he stood up and began pacing round the cramped kitchen, working it out. ‘I’ve had three and a half weeks already. So next Monday I’m starting work. It doesn’t matter what it is at first, so long as it brings in some cash. And once I’m working I’ll be more focussed on deciding what I actually want to do. See?’ he grinned, powerfully reminding Holly of his father’s irresistible smile, ‘it all fits. Now,’ he pinched her chin, ‘stop worrying and go and paint before the kids get back and start causing chaos.’ ‘Actually,’ smiled Holly, ‘your father took them with him. So, if you’d just leave as well…’ ‘Fine!’ He grabbed an apple. ‘Love you, Ma!’ ‘Love you too, sweetheart.’ ### Laura Potter was seriously hacked off. Three weeks into the summer holidays and nothing was going to plan. Her father had intercepted the letter she’d written to Puddlemere United asking for a trial and had gone ballistic. When her mother found out, her reaction was equally bad. They’d confiscated Laura’s new broom and made her agree to a week’s work experience with her Uncle Percy at the Ministry and another week with Aunt Penny at St Mungo’s. No matter how much she’d wailed that that was practically the whole of the rest of her summer holiday, they’d shown no sign of giving in. In fact, Dad had merely started talking about whether Uncle Bill would have her at Gringotts for a bit as well. At which point Laura had decided it was prudent to submit quietly. Uncle Percy had been under the impression that Laura had volunteered for the work experience. He took great delight in showing her everything and thought it was a tremendous privilege for her to be allowed do lots of the mundane, repetitive office tasks that didn’t require any particular skill. He expected her to bring a packed lunch and eat it with him, in his office, chatting about Ministry employment policy and possible career paths. Two days in and Laura was seriously considering ways of making herself ill. It was no good just not turning up. Uncle Percy would be certain to tell her dad and things would go from catastrophic to worse. She was sitting at a desk outside Percy’s office, sorting through a dull pile of official files, looking for all those dated before June 13th, 1986. Percy had told her not to try to do any magic within the Ministry because she was still underage and it would immediately bring the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to arrest her. Laura twitched the topmost beige folder off the top of the pile and flicked it open. She skimmed through the dull paragraphs about importing magical objects and found a date. February, 1997. The file landed on the floor where a messy heap was growing. She slowly made her way through information on the different rates of import tax for goblin-made and other metal work, the regulations for bringing magical plants and creatures into the country and the restrictions on the movement of objects with Dark properties. Laura began to read in earnest. She’d hardly heard of most of the things mentioned in the report. Maybe Dad would know what Amalecortas and Obsiditers were. She shook her head, realising at once that she couldn’t ask him. He hated talking about all that stuff from the war. She remembered how embarrassing it had been at school when they did the war in History of Magic. Everyone assumed that Laura would know all the official details and more, but actually there’d been loads of stuff she’d never heard of. Professor Jordan seemed to understand. He never asked Laura questions about the war in class, even if it was things she should have known just from doing her homework. At first, she’d decided she’d better mug up on it all just so she wouldn’t have the shame of failing the course. Then she became fascinated. Not just her father but also her mother, her uncles and aunts, her grandparents, her teachers… they all appeared in the history, they’d all had their part to play. Laura found it hard to match up the heroes of the books with the ordinary people she’d grown up with. Laura tried to think who else she could ask. Uncle Bill used to be a curse-breaker when he first started at Gringotts. Maybe he’d know about all these Dark things. Laura frowned and glanced through at Uncle Percy in his office. He was importantly giving a lowly Ministry employee some complicated instructions. The poor employee looked almost as bored as Laura had been earlier, but with an added nervousness in case he got it wrong. Laura swiftly looked round for some spare parchment and went over to Percy’s secretary. ‘Could you copy this document for me?’ she smiled sweetly. ‘Uncle Percy’s busy and I’m underage. He wants it this afternoon.’ The secretary barely looked at the document, merely waving her wand and checking that the copy was legible. ‘Thank you so much,’ beamed Laura. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ The witch looked pointedly across to the heap of files Laura had discarded on the floor. ‘Hadn’t you better sort that lot out first?’ ‘Oh yes,’ Laura winked conspiratorially. ‘I usually tidy as I go along but it was just so interesting that I seemed to lose track. That must happen to you all the time working here?’ The secretary gave Laura a quelling glance and continued with her typing. Laura allowed herself a quiet giggle as she returned to her own desk, stuffing the copied document into her bag and gathering the heaped files together without bothering to put them in any particular order. Someone else could sort out the chaos later. She put her head round the door to Percy’s office, without bothering to knock. ‘I’ve finished the filing. See you tomorrow!’ She waved cheerily and disappeared down the corridor before Percy could point out that the working day finished at 5pm and not before and it was important for her to understand how good employees should always be prepared to go beyond their duty. ### Laura emerged from the fireplace in her parents’ sitting room as quietly as she could manage. She wanted to escape upstairs to deposit the copied file and write a note for Uncle Bill before her mother could ask what she was doing. But the door still squeaked whenever it was opened and instantly Laura heard, ‘Come through to the kitchen, Laura. There’s someone here to see you.’ Jack! She hadn’t heard from him since the party ten days ago. Laura wasn’t used to that kind of treatment but she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of making the next move. It was fun to flirt with him so confidently the first time but now he was the one who should be making the running. Finally, it looked like he’d got the idea. Removing the grin that had sprung to her face and replacing it with a studied air of casualness, she crossed the hallway and went into the kitchen. The Potters’ kitchen was a room used, her father was fond of saying, for almost any activity other than cooking. His wife generally followed this comment with a stinging retort asking where else he thought the huge meals he consumed on a regular basis were produced. There was a huge cream-coloured Aga at the heart of the room, warming the whole house from its fires and ensuring that the kettle was always boiled for tea. Above their heads hung pans and pots and cauldrons of all shapes and sizes, interspersed with bunches of herbs and dried flowers and strings of garlic. Around the walls, inexpertly built shelves held an assortment of crockery and numerous photos of a whole host of children, mainly sporting the same bright red hair as Ginny Potter. Laura was quietly and profoundly grateful for her father’s genes which were responsible for her own much darker auburn locks. The central feature of the kitchen was its large, scrubbed oak table, usually piled high with clothes waiting to be ironed and things Ginny meant to get round to doing and junk Laura had left here and more often than not, bearing freshly baked cakes or biscuits ready to serve anyone who happened to call. And it was rare that there was no-one sitting at the table, talking to Ginny as she bustled about making tea or cooking soup. Laura wondered how long Jack had been waiting for her here and just what her mother would have taken it upon herself to tell him. But the dark haired boy with his long, jeans-clad legs resting on the table, stuffing a chocolate brownie into his mouth and grinning at her wasn’t Jack at all. ‘Oh. Hi.’ Laura leaned against the door frame and surveyed her cousin without obvious pleasure. He finished chewing. ‘Quite a welcome you give a fellow.’ She shrugged. ‘Any more of those ginger biscuits, Mum?’ Ginny put the tea pot on the table. ‘In the tin. Come and sit down, then. Isn’t it kind of Bert to come round specially?’ Laura dunked her biscuit in her mug. ‘Very.’ He laughed. ‘If you’re going to be like this, then maybe I won’t give you your birthday present after all.’ ‘If it’s as bad as the one your brother gave me, maybe I won’t care,’ she retorted. ‘Laura!’ Mrs Potter gave her daughter a stern look. ‘I do apologise for my daughter, Bert. You’d think she’d never been taught any manners at all.’ ‘I know perfectly well what good manners are,’ snapped Laura. ‘I’m just careful not to waste them on yobs like him.’ Ginny hid her head in her hands. ‘Give me strength.’ ‘After all,’ continued Laura. ‘I was always taught that it was good manners to reply to a party invitation.’ She reached for another biscuit, ignoring the plate of cakes Bert was offering her. ‘Quite right.’ He nodded seriously. ‘Please accept my sincerest apologies for my rudeness in not replying to your kind invitation.’ Laura shot him a glance. ‘Why didn’t you come?’ ‘Ah.’ He sipped his tea. ‘Exigencies of the service.’ She glared. ‘Stuck out in the field,’ Bert elaborated in dramatic accents. ‘Too dangerous to communicate with the outside world. Went on longer than we expected.’ ‘Oh Bert,’ Ginny laid her hand on her nephew’s arm. ‘Are you all right?’ He turned to look her in the eye and nodded earnestly, ‘I am now, Aunt Ginny. Could I possibly have another slice of cake?’ ‘Huh!’ Laura grunted in disgust at this blatant show of manipulation. ‘So what about my present?’ ‘Laura!’ ‘Sorry, Mum.’ She turned and smiled sweetly at her cousin. ‘I’m so terribly sorry for my poor manners earlier, cousin Bert. It must have been awful for you, not being able to come to my party. And, if you please, may I have my birthday present now.’ He grinned appreciatively and handed over an inexpertly wrapped box. ‘Mimosa et Mignonette,’ she squealed when she saw the bath oil and body wash he’d chosen. ‘My favourite. How did you know?’ ‘Lucky guess,’ he answered with a deadpan look that made her instantly suspicious. ‘I don’t care. Thanks, Bert.’ ‘You’re welcome. Any chance of another slice of cake, Aunt Gin?’ ‘Bert?’ Laura asked with a suddenly serious voice. ‘Laura?’ he mimicked. ‘Come upstairs a minute. There’s something I want to show you.’ She grasped his hand and collected her bag. ‘I’ll be back for that cake,’ he called over his shoulder. ### ‘So?’ He’d made himself at home in her yellow and white bedroom, lying on her bed with his hands crossed behind his head. ‘What have you got to show me?’ Laura sat down at her dressing table and withdrew the parchment from her bag. ‘I found this today. You know Mum and Dad have been torturing me with this work experience with Uncle Percy.’ Bert pulled a face in sympathy. ‘Well I was reading through all these incredibly dull files and reports and things when I saw this.’ ‘You stole it from the Ministry?’ He sat up in alarm. ‘No!’ She waved her hands to calm him down. ‘I got someone to copy it for me.’ Bert didn’t look as if he thought this made it any better. ‘Anyway, I don’t really know what half these things are. I thought maybe you might know.’ ‘I might?’ He held out his hand for the document. ‘Yes. You know, Auror training and all that. I was going to ask Uncle Bill but then I thought of you.’ He was scanning the document quickly. ‘You can’t show this to Uncle Bill.’ ‘I know. I just thought of dropping some of the things into conversation.’ Bert looked pityingly across at her. ‘Do you know how serious this kind of stuff is?’ Laura shook her head. ‘That’s why I thought it might be interesting.’ ‘Yeah. Look, I think I’d better take this with me.’ She yelped in protest. ‘Imagine if your mum or dad found it.’ ‘They won’t,’ she said with certainty. ‘Whatever.’ He folded the parchment and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘Why were you so antsy before?’ Laura began to brush out her hair. ‘You try spending your days with Uncle Percy.’ ‘Fair point. Sure that’s all?’ He came to stand behind her. ‘Sure it’s nothing to do with a certain young gentleman?’ ‘He’s not a gentleman,’ muttered Laura, furiously. Bert laughed. ‘What’s he done?’ ‘Nothing!’ she exploded. ‘Ten days since my party and I’ve heard absolutely nothing! I hate him.’ ‘No you don’t, darling. Shall I make him come round and grovel?’ Laura stood up and strode across to the window. ‘If he doesn’t want to see me, I don’t care.’ ‘I can see that,’ he observed wryly. ‘Look,’ he came over and took hold of her upper arms. ‘He’s a boy. He hasn’t a clue what he’s doing. If you want to play games then you’ll win every time. But if you want him and you’re serious, you’ll have to be straightforward. You choose.’ Laura squirmed, and Bert laughed, gripping her more tightly still. ‘Don’t break his heart, darling.’ He let her go and Laura began to rub his arms where he’d bruised her. ‘Did that happen to you?’ she enquired curiously. Bert looked away, his face expressionless. ‘No.’ He turned back and said abruptly, ‘I’ve got to go.’ ‘But what about…’ she began, but Bert Disapparated before she could ask when he’d tell her about the Dark stuff. ‘God, you’re annoying,’ she said to the empty space he’d left.
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