|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: takon65 Story: Memoirs of a Muggle Mage Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 1 Words: 26,759
George's Story Operation Cupid - Sweeping in like an Avenging Angel or a Knight of Olden Days; rescuing the fair maiden from the evil monster. When Papaw and I were discussing the operation, I thought nothing would go wrong. Papaw and I were using the Wizard mindset. No matter how 'culturally diverse' a Wizarding Family claims to be, they always have the mindset of being superior to Muggles. Who ever said, "You may know me after you walk a mile in my moccasins" was right. I wouldn't learn that lesson for many years to come. One big reason was the woman I was 'rescuing' that night. Papaw and I were seeing Denise as a Witch even though we both knew in our heart of hearts she wasn't. We were rescuing her from her 'evil Muggle' captor. We temporarily forgot the 'evil Muggle' was her Daddy and she loved him as much as she loved me just in different ways. I flew into the window, and my beloved fainted. I cast a few spells from my limited healing repertoire. As far as I knew, she was unharmed. I could tempt casting eneverate to rouse out of her coma-like state. I am not a healer. I didn't know what the spell may do to the baby she was carrying. More than likely it would be nothing, but why take a chance. I tried patting her hand like in the Muggle movies. Kissing the top of her head and cheeks, softly calling to her, "Denise, come back to me my love. Come back to your George." No matter what I did, she wouldn't awaken. I walked over to her bed and drew back the covers even more. I fluffed the pillows and walked back to her. Leaning down on one knee, I slipped my arms underneath my beloved and lifted her up as if she were an infant. We walked over and put her back to bed and tucked her in. I kissed her goodnight, I was sure at the time may be our last. I walked into her attached bathroom, and plucked thirteen sheets of bathroom tissue off of the roll. Transfiguration isn't my best skill, but I wasn't unused to it. I separated the thirteen sheets and placed them on her desk. I transfigured twelve of the sheets into long stemmed roses, and the last one into green tissue paper and wrapped the bouquet up in it. From her desk, I made a chain of paper clips, closing Grand Mother's ring in them. I transfigured the paper clip necklace into a golden small linked necklace. It looked like costume jewelry, I just hope it wouldn't turn her neck green. I walked over to the sleeping form of the woman whose body housed the other half of my soul. I cast a spell that took the necklace from my hand and placed it around her neck. I sat down to her desk and pulled a piece of paper out and a pen and sat for a few minutes composing my thoughts. 7-8-62 11:30 p.m. My Beloved Denise,
If you are concerned about your folks, I have two goals in my life: One - to have you as my bride. Two - To see that you are happy as possible now and forever, making peace with your folks will start that process. Your George I picked up my keys and took the trunk key off the ring. I picked up my broom. I cast the Disilusionment Charm on me. I Apparated to my car, I saw Papaw was there waiting on me. I cancelled the Disilusionment, and opened the trunk and put the broom away. I hid the broom and the jersey with another Disilusionment spell. I explained the situation to Papaw, after a half hour or forty-five minutes, he finally Apparated home. I had a sinking feeling that I hadn't heard the last of this situation with him. All I could do now is Apparate to the dark alley by the truck stop and wait on Denise to arrive. ***** A/N - Writing these chapters wouldn't be so difficult if Denise wasn't so much of a Muggle. As I have said in previous pages, I knew that, and that my family had less to no prejudices against Muggles. Looking back at those statements, while they were true, they were a little naïve. Denise learned to be the wife of a wizard, and enjoy many of the privileges of the life. She just had one tiniest of tiny annoying habit in my opinion. Other transportation and medical potions for our kids and me she hated using anything magical. If I had a magical instead of Muggle diary, I could have simply asked the diary to tell me her feelings of what she wrote. Maybe I'm being selfish. If she would have used a magical diary, I could hear her voice when it was activated. It's been too many years since I've heard her. Denise became a nurse a few years after we were married. She cared for the whole family for many years at the first sniffle. She would begin a pot of chicken soup, and have Mama Bonnie our House-Elf start the Pepper-Up potion. She just didn't seem to take care of herself well. Colds I could see and help her. But the other problems, I couldn't see them, so I would have no idea. If she would have just had a healer take a look at her in addition to her doctor, she might still be here. Some times I feel like a selfish old man. Knowing I could hear her voice at my whim would make me feel less lonely over the last few years. GTR ***** (A/N As close as I can come to telling it from reading her diary. GTR) I remember seeing him across the campus. From first look, I wasn't too sure of him. He wasn't as tall as I was. He didn't look as if he fit in here at all. It did surprise me when I said yes after he sweet-talked me into having a soda pop with him. It seemed that the first sip of the soda was some where near noon; the last was when the student union closed at ten p.m. He was the first man to send me flowers and roses at that. I started looking into his eyes. They started to tell me a story of some sort. Next I knew we danced the night away during the Thanksgiving Dance. I never felt so vulnerable and safe at the same time. I loved the feeling. Over the next few weeks we seemed inseparable. I was appalled at George's grades he showed me before we went home for Christmas. Something changed that night; it was as if I saw George grow from a boy to a man. That was the first night we spent together. I saw even more of George. He wasn't always trying to be romantic, though that is a part of him. It comes easily as breathing it seemed. We spent many hours in the library trying to get George's average up to the University of North Carolina's standards. Winter turned to spring. Spring went into the beginnings of summer. As we were studying for exams, it was a stressful time. I didn't notice that my monthly 'friend' didn't come. After she didn't come the second month, I began to worry silently. We took our exams, and left school for the summer vacation. After the third month, I went to the Doctor. I found out that I was expecting. I decided I must tell someone, so I visited my friend Jennifer. Then I wrote George and waited nervously for his reply. I found out that her Mother couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business if you paid her. She wrote my Mother a letter and then left town. I was so MAD! The day after the news broke via the letter, George came to talk with my Daddy. George's Corvette's engine had a distinctive sound. I heard the sound I had heard many times before, the gunning of the engine. I looked out the window and gasped, "Oh my Lord, George is here!" I heard my Daddy growl, "Get up stairs now, young lady!" An hour or so later, Mama called me downstairs. I saw my George standing there like a schoolboy instead of the man I know he is. George treated me as if I were made of spun glass. It was as if he thought I'd break at the first little touch. We went out to the porch to get some privacy. There wasn't as much as I wanted, due to George raising the blinds, and opening the curtains. George asked me to dance with him. He took me in his arms, and he tried to sing the song we first slow danced to in my ear. It was a little difficult, because he had to stretch to get his chin on my shoulder. George for his many talents, singing isn't one of them. His voice cracked and the tune changed keys so often, I thought I could hear the key ring jingle. Even though the song was mangled, I recognized Sam Cooke's lyrics and the romantic sentiment he was trying to put across. We sat on the porch swing holding hands. I don't know whose hand was sweating more, his or mine. (A/N I know mine was; shotguns tend to do that to a guy. GTR) I saw him fumble about with something in his watch pocket. There was a glinting of gold. Was that a ring? He hemmed and hawed for a few minutes about traditions. He released my right hand and took my left and slid out of the seat kneeling on one knee. He said –" Denise Marie Johnson, mistress of my heart, would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?" And I said YES! The next thing I knew, the door was flung open. My Daddy was there with blood in his eye. I have never ever seen him so angry. He kicked George in the face knocking him off of the porch. Then he roughly pulled the ring George gave me off my finger and flung it at him. He roughly told me to get upstairs and pack a bag. I was being sent to Aunt Thelma in the morning. I hate Aunt Thelma's house. It smells of her menagerie in the huge back yard. She hires local teenagers to clean it out rarely. Chicken and horse fertilizer in one hundred plus degree heat, oh joy! Plus I don't want to go, I want to stay and marry George! I ran upstairs not because I was a dutiful daughter, but because I was more scared than I was angry. If I left with George tonight, I don't know what would happen to me and to George. Since Mother came up to make sure it happened, I packed the bag Daddy ordered me to. I went to sleep dreading what would come in the morning. A/N - Reading and rereading this makes me wish I had known that known that she had wrote that in her diary. If I knew, it would have saved me a few gray hairs and perhaps I would have kept a few more while I was waiting for her at the truck stop. GTR ***** 9-9-62 Dear Diary, I must tell you of the strangest things that happened tonight before I forget them! First of all, I woke up at three thirty a.m. I have never been up this early in my life. O.K. I have stayed up to this hour, but getting up at this time, it's a first for me. The good part of the whole situation will give me some time to write the strangest dreams down in your pages. These dreams were the strangest I have had in my life. The first dream had me seem to awaken to a knocking on my window. I got up out of bed, walked to the window and saw my George hovering in mid-air. He flew into my room on what appeared to be a broom. Men can't fly by themselves. I have always believed this, but after the second dream, I am beginning to doubt what I have known all of my life. I seemed to awaken and a man walked into my room, it wasn't George or Daddy. Diary, my Mama drummed two things into my mind ever since I could remember: One- Wear clean underwear; you never know when you will be in an accident. Two- First impressions count; you can't make a second first impression, so stand up straight and be a lady. The man didn't make a 'good first impression'. Basically it was his manner of dress. Starting at the bottoms of his feet he was wearing black boots that buckled, long white socks that came to mid calf. In his right sock he had a knife handle sticking out of the top of his sock. As he walked towards me, I saw his bare knobby knees. He was wearing a skirt-like outfit with part of the material of the skirt going up over his left shoulder. (The scholar in me knows it was a kilt, but the rest of me knew it was a skirt.) Then he was wearing a white linen shirt. The sleeves had no cuffs, just seams. The neckline was a 'v' shaped and dipped down past his collarbone, it had no collar. The man had a snow-white beard that stopped about a half inch above the top of the neckline. The hair on the top of his head matched his beard; it was long and pulled into a ponytail held in place with a leather thong wrapped around it. As long as he was by the door, I felt safe from this skinny Santa Claus that seemed to dress like a woman. He held his index finger in front of his mouth, as if he were making the 'shhh' motion. He took a step towards me. The instincts of childhood kicked in I guess. I held my blankets taut, at chin level as if to shield myself against him. I took a deep breath to scream for Daddy… The next thing that happened, I heard a woman's voice bellow, "Ian Andrew, I knew you would bollix this up!" I was wondering whom that voice belonged to, and just how quickly my folks would barge in since it was so loud. Seeing a skinny Santa Claus wearing a skirt in my room wasn't my only surprise that night. The owner of the woman's voice was a bigger one. A split second later, a grandmotherly type woman walked through the closed door. Yes Diary, through the door without opening it. The woman wore her gray hair in a bun. Her white linen blouse seemed to be extraordinarily white. She had an ample middle; around it was the waistband of a brown dress that went almost to the floor. I seemed to feel at ease with her at first sight. She walked over to me and grabbed my hand; all of a sudden I was standing and receiving an almost bone crushing hug. I could smell lavender and fresh bread. She said, "There, there me wee lassie. I should have come first; a man bursting into a lass' bedchamber can be frightening. Lads can be the most careless lot at times. I should know; she pointed to the man standing nearby, I had to deal with Himself and his 8 sons before the Light blessed me with a daughter." As we broke from the hug, I looked down at my body. I wasn't wearing a nightgown; I was wearing a snow-white linen blouse, the same brown colored skirt as the lady. Around my waist, and up over my left shoulder there was a sling type device of the same tartan pattern as the man wore. There seemed to be a weight of some sort in the sling. "What are you doing here? How did I get dressed this way? What is going on?" I blurted in one breath. The man let out a short, bark-like laugh. The woman smiled at me with what seemed to be deep affection. "No matter how long we do this, be it one or one hundred and one years; the first reaction is the same," he said with a grin. "Fear not young one. We are neither ghosts nor angels, but Guardian Spirits be. We come to members of the Clan when times are troubled to help them make decisions" The old man said. "Why would I get two Guardians from Scotland? My family is French and English." I asked. The lady replied, "It's true, you are French and English. But you will be of the Clan once you say yes but twice more. Re-affirm the yes to he who holds the other half of your heart and once before God and The Light and you will be of the Clan. Until then the Wee One you are carrying in your womb has brought us. Since he has no voice, you who is his Mother must speak for him." The old man said, "You have traveled down the road that is your life on almost a straight and true direction. Your parents have helped to smooth the path as they should, but you have come to a crossroad. You must begin the path without your parents. There are three trails ahead of you." The woman's face took a dream-like look and she began to speak: "The road to the left will be the most difficult path you can take, but at the end the achievement of the goals will be the richest you may imagine in your wildest dreams." I took both of her hands to help her keep her balance and not fall. "The trail that is in front of you is the shortest one of all. Two years before the beginning of the second century of this country's birth. A member of the Clan will go home alone and dwell with darkness. They will not know their birthright. A son of the family that deals with clay will be brought down by one who needed a mother's love. I can see no more," he said The three of us joined hands. They began to speak in unison, "The path to the right will be the easiest for you. You will have almost a score of years of bliss. During the time of the harvest moon in the first year of the eighth decade, a member of the Clan will willingly become a slave to Death and the Serpent. The Clan member will negate the sacrifice of the deepest bonds and strike down the hope for the future. You will not believe what your ears tell you. You will not believe what you have seen. By the end of the first decade of the new century, I see rolling fields of molten lava that the world has seen but one time before… the vision ends." I was thinking, "What in the World? How can I cope with the situations you have described to me? The fate of the world depends on me? How did I become so important? Why should I believe you? How do I know you aren't leading me on the wrong path," I blurted out. I saw the woman nod to the man. "You better go do it." She said. He walked out of the room through the wall. "My name is Rebekka. My soul as dwelt with Ian's since I said, "I do' two hundred and seventy-one years ago. You have the capabilities of such a bond closer than you think. I have a feeling you and I will have long talks over the next years. Care and feeding of any male is trying; the Rotheri males are even more so. I received more than my share of gray hairs before they were due. I enjoyed getting every one; looking back at my life." "Time, she said, is nothing but a pond. The decisions we make are as pebbles dropped into the pond. The same ripples in the water cannot be recreated, nor is the future set into stone, no matter what Ian thinks. After we give you an opportunity to check our truths and possible truths, I will give you a gift that all expectant mothers dream of. I know I enjoyed the gift when my Guardian came to me, be it one day, or 270 years I will always remember that night." I saw her have a 'far-off' look in her face and eyes. It was almost as if she were reliving that night. As a single tear rolled down her face, I heard a voice I hadn't heard in three years. "Hello Marie, my little one." The voice said. "Nana? Is that really you?" We both had tears in our eyes as we hugged. I hadn't been able to go to my Nana's funeral since I was in college and didn't get the letter in time. Here she was smiling at me like when I was little. She still smells of the peppermint candies she always had nearby. To this day, I adore peppermint. Nana said, "Ask me something that only I would know." "What did you give me for my twelfth birthday?" I queried. "The mother-of-pearl cameo from your great-grandmother," Nana said. With delight I said, "Nana, it really is you!" "Yes my young one it's me," Nana said smilingly. "The one piece of advice I can give you is to listen to the Guardians with your heart. Your heart will not lead you astray." The old woman came close to me and opened the sling around my waist. "Look inside." She commanded. Inside the sling was the smallest of newborn babes. One part of me thought 'oh my'; this was the ugliest child in the world; his muscles contracted, his face appearing to be pressed in. Then I realized just what this gift was, this wasn't just any child. This was MY baby. His beauty increased a million fold in mere heartbeats. As I held and rocked him, he aged. I saw mahogany red hair grow. His blue eyes getting brown flecks in them; then turning to what George calls his F.O.S. Brown color. This little one has my nose and George's eyes. Now I know where Daddy got his strong chin from, it was Nana; I can see them both here. He even has my devilish grin. In short, he is the most perfect baby I had ever seen or held. Nana and the lady took their turns holding him. The man gave him a scratchy beard kiss atop his head. He said, "It is time for us to depart, but fear not daughter we are watching and we will be here when we are needed. One favor he asked, "Tell Jacob Thomas, it wouldn't hurt him to smile more." Jacob Thomas, who is he? I wondered. He placed the baby back inside the sling. I didn't want him to go back! Nana took my hand. "Marie, get your rest while you can. After the baby is born, times will be few and far between." We turned around towards the bed, but I was already there, in the same position I always slept in…I lay down and went back into the land of nod. What in the world? Light was beginning to stream through the window. I hadn't realized I had been writing these strange dreams down that long. The alarm clock just went off at four forty-five in the blessed a.m. Next to the alarm is a bouquet of roses and a note propped up on them. It's from George. How did he get up here? Here are his car keys. He better have a good explanation. Silly man! He remotely thinks I want to go to Phoenix. I finally feel the necklace around my neck. The ring shines as brightly as when he slipped it on my finger earlier this evening. What! He tells me to pack a bag? It's bad enough when my Daddy tells me something idiotic like that. I will be damned if my husband or husband-to-be will go ordering me around like that! George has yet to see me angry. It may be time for me to show him a little of it. The lady Guardian and my Nana were right. It is time for me to forge my own path. I am almost positive that path is with George by my side, but it will be at my terms; not George's and not Daddy's. I think I will pack. Not because George or Daddy told me to, but because if it goes the way I hope it will, I may not be welcome in my own house. Daddy often says, "You made your bed, now lie in it." If that's the case, I will need some clothing to wear at George's. We will talk again soon, Denise P.S. I've made it to the car without waking up either Mama or Daddy. Now all I need to do is face George. I've never been so happy and so scared at once in my life! ****** George's Tale Continued The truck stop was a huge building. It probably sat one hundred fifty to two hundred people in the dining area. Thank goodness Papaw gave me some Muggle money; I don't know if Denise would have any, if she shows up. I walked into the café about midnight. I decided on pie and coffee to help me pass the time. I knew I probably had six hours or so to wait. Along about one a.m. a man came to my table and asked if he could join me. I said, "Ok." We small talked over his meal. After he had desert, he pulled out a Camel Cigarette and lit it. He pushed the pack over to me and said, "Son, you look as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. This might help you out." He wished me a good night and left about two thirty-five a.m. I can remember coughing through that first smoke, but there seemed to be a slight calming influence. I got up and went to the cigarette machine, put in thirty-five cents and bought my own pack. I don't know if they actually worked to calm me, or if it was just to keep my hands and mind busy that did the trick. About three a.m. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries. I can remember it smelled so good, but the flavor wasn't there, it was like cardboard. The next two hours seemed to both fly and drag ever so slowly by. The next thing I knew, it was ten minutes till six a.m. The café was beginning to fill up with the breakfast crowd, and I had two empty packs of Camels and an open third one before me. That is when I saw my car drive in the lot. Have you ever had the fight or flight feeling? That is almost what I was feeling at that time. I don't know what was worse, the nerves I was feeling or the instantaneous need to empty my bladder. I was as if I were frozen in place. I was almost sure that I wouldn't leave a puddle on the floor till she walked in the door. It was just a few seconds later I saw her. She was a vision of loveliness. She was wearing a paisley print peasant blouse. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders. On her chest I could see the chain I made for her. Her curves were enhanced to almost being hypnotizing by the darker trousers she was wearing. I could see her eyes light up when she saw me sitting here. A split second later, as I was standing to greet her, she saw the used ashtray and the cigarette packs. With a moderately loud voice she said, "George Rotheri, When did you start smoking? After today, I refuse to kiss you when your mouth is going to taste like an ashtray." There was a fire in her eyes I had never seen, and an edge to her voice that made me take notice. The only voice that made me jump like that before was GrandDad's. I heard it very recently, the day before yesterday when I was hiding behind the smoke shed reading the letters. I held my arms open, a few seconds later she embraced me. The kiss we shared wasn't as deep as the one last night, but it still set my soul ablaze. My heart was in my throat beating rapidly. I realized I had one more problem I needed to take care of right now! "Darling, please sit down and order what you would like when the waitress comes back. I'll be back soon." I blurted. I could have beat Jesse Owens in the 100-yard dash that day. The men's room was the finish line. I was glad there was a stall open. After I finished my business, I cast a quick scourgify on my clothing, and a dental charm on my teeth. It wasn't as good as brushing, but it would do in a pinch. I guess I was in the restroom longer than I anticipated. When I got back to the table, the waitress was sitting Denise's bacon and eggs in front of her. She asked, "I'm about to go off shift, do you need anything else?" I replied, "Just some more coffee for me." When she came back, I slipped a two-dollar bill into her hand and wished her a good day. I picked up the soiled ashtray and the partial pack of cigarettes and walked them over to the counter. After I sat down almost simultaneously, we said, "We need to talk." I said, "I was always taught ladies first." "All right, she said, I'll go first. One: Do you still love and want to marry me, even though you and my Daddy don't seem to get along? Two: How did you get into my room? I know my folks would never let you inside the house after what happened last night. Three: Do you have the foggiest idea who Jacob Thomas is? The staccato rhythm of her questions surprised me. There was a forcefulness I haven't seen in her before. When she finished with her questions, I had to smile at the first one and look guilty at the second, shocked at the third. In a quiet raspy voice she snapped at me, "Damn it George, this isn't funny. I don't like to be lied to or laughed at!" I had the distinct impression that I better not react in a way that she thought was unfavorable. I put my puppy-dog eyes of adoration on, and let her continue. She hissed, "Are you going to answer me or not!" I said, "Yes my love, I am going to answer." As for the first question, I said, "I let you drive my car didn't I?" She snapped, "What does that have to do with anything?" "That is the first of many things that will be ours as soon as you say, 'I do' I replied." As for your Daddy, the two of us putting up a united front, should be able to change his mind. As I sat here thinking, he has forgotten that the only thing we can't do in this country is vote. It would be wonderful for the both of us to have his blessing, but it isn't mandatory. As for the second question, my beloved, keep your mind open; I have a few things to tell you that may sound strange and a little incredulous, but they are true. I shifted in my seat drawing out my wand from my sleeve. I pretended to start to cough. (I didn't have to pretend too much after most of two and one-half packs of cigarettes in two hours.) I cast a privacy spell and a silencing charm around the table. That was difficult to do while faux coughing. She handed me a glass of water. She said, "See what smoking does for you? You cough more than a chest cold." After taking a sip of water, I looked at her straight in the eye and said, "I swear upon all I hold holy, tonight is the last night for smoking cigarettes in my life." (Note how carefully I worded that promise that I had every intention of keeping. While I never ever did smoke a cigarette again, it left me open for my once yearly cigar and whiskey fest with Papa, Papaw and GrandDad on Father's Day.) I began to stutter as I do under great stress, "Denise I have something to tell you, it will answer your other questions." She gave me in a quiet tone, "Well spit it out man!" I stammered, "Denise, I'm a Wizard." In a voice that was so low and full of fury I could hardly hear her. She uttered, "George how could you tell me something like that? You are a member of the Ku Klux Klan. And a Wizard in it at that! You know my best friend in the world other than Jennifer is Lucinda, and she is Negro." She looked like she was getting ready to leave; I grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. I said, looking straight into her eyes, "I have never ever, nor has my family to my knowledge been associated with the Ku Klux Klan. I am a Wizard like Merlin in the stories." ***** Denise's Perspective George said, "I'm a Wizard like Merlin in the stories." My first reaction was 'Poppycock!' There is no such thing as magic. Then I started to remember my dreams that happened last night, maybe he was telling the truth. I was getting a little calmer. I said, "George, the state motto for Missouri is 'Show Me'. I think we should pretend we are there now." He asked me to put three coins on the table. I put a nickel, dime and quarter in between the two of us. He stammered, "Transfiguration isn't my best skill." He took a baton-like stick out of his left sleeve. "What's that? I said." He sheepishly muttered, "My wand, seven inches of rosewood with a phoenix feather core." He took a calming breath and muttered some Latin sounding words. The nickel turned into a pincushion, the dime into a wine glass and the quarter into a diamond looking gem. I picked up the nickel/pincushion. It felt real and looked like the tomato pincushions you could pick up at any five and dime store. The dime/wineglass was an elegant thing. I ran my damp finger over it, and it rang like true crystal. The quarter/diamond was the size of a peach pit, and glistened and shot rainbow patterns in the sunlight. He touched the wand to each of the items individually and said, "Finite Incantum." Before us yet again, were the nickel, dime and quarter. He didn't touch them with his hand. Even if he did, just how did the other items appear there? I sat there flabbergasted. Yet I saw and touched the items. Just how did that happen? I reached over and slapped him as hard as I could. I thought having the man who loved me and created a child with me being associated with the Ku Klux Klan was bad enough. I quickly said in a quiet voice laced with fury, "No, you couldn't just be a member of the Ku Klux Klan. You had to be using unholy powers! How could you do things like that? Am I carrying your child or the spawn of the Devil?" His face was red from the handprint. He wore an expression like his world was falling apart. With a voice clogged with tears beginning to form he asked, "Trust me just for a few more minutes?" He began to speak, "Magic is a gift from God. Compared to the non-magical people in the world, we are very few. In the early days, there were more of us, but there have been many misunderstandings between our societies. The majority of the Salem Witch Trials were of non-magical people, there were a few Witches and Wizards." I snapped, "See you admit it! Witches indeed, witchcraft is immoral and sacrilegious." George snapped back, "I said nothing of witchcraft! Witches are what women are called in the Wizarding World. I personally like the title of mage. It denotes a person who can wield magic, but is gender neutral." I liked that he can show he has a backbone, I thought. His arguments seem convincing. George continued, "I wish Mama and Papa or Bishop Moore was here. They could explain it better than I could." I've known Bishop Moore since I was a little girl. If it's the same man I know, he is quite pious. Bishop Moore is Daddy's supervisor in the church. "Not everyone in my family is magical, he said, my own Papa isn't. I have always been taught magic is something you get at birth, like eye color." My own eyes started to tear up. I sobbed, "You couldn't trust me with this? I thought you loved me!" Out of everything George has told me this morning, I thought this was the outlandish thing. He said, "I couldn't say anything till we were engaged. We are aren't we? I could go to jail for 15 years for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy of 1692. It is one of the oldest laws on the Wizarding law books. It protects the Wizarding world as well as the non-magical one. (A/N I had to watch my tongue that day. I wanted to say Muggle, but I didn't want to scare her off at all. GTR) And I love you with all of the depth and breadth of what I am. What was I to say? Perhaps at the Thanksgiving dance, by the way Denise, I'm a Wizard." He could be a smart aleck too, I thought. I am not sure if I like that at all, no matter how right he may be. I said, "What about that blasted Statute of Secrecy now, George? Anyone near by could have heard you say everything and see you do the magic." He said, "Remember the coughing fit I had? Only part of it was real coughing. I used some fake coughing to cover me casting a spell that would keep the area private, and sound proof." While he waved his wand, I heard, "Wingaudium Levosa." The chain floated up off of my head and into George's hands. He opened the chain, and slipped off the ring. Was he taking the ring back after all of this? He uttered, "I don't promise an easy row to hoe, my love. Denise Marie Johnson, would you be my bride and make me the happiest man in the world?" "You have gotten my answer already, George, I said, it will take some getting used to, but I think I could begin to like magic. (Especially after I find out what Bishop Moore says on the subject.) But you still haven't answered two of my questions." George looked in a daze. He asked, "What questions are those?" I said, "How did you get into my room, and who is Jacob Thomas?" He looked relieved. He began, "I flew into your room on a broom. Don't you remember? If you would like after we get to my house, I will give you a ride." Oh my word, it wasn't a dream! Maybe the Guardians and Nana coming to see me were real too. He said, "As for answering the Jacob Thomas question, it may take a while to say. I would love to know how you got the name one day. My family has a custom of re-using names. I'm George Thomas Rotheri, Jr. I was named after my Papa. Papa was named after his Papaws. George came from Mammaw's side and Thomas on Papaw's. My Papaw's name is James Thomas. James was my GrandMother's Papa's name and Thomas was from his Papa. GrandDad, my great-grandfather's name is Jacob Thomas Rotheri. GrandDad is slightly irked at the both of us. With the birth of our baby, my Papa will be come a Papaw for the first time. My Papaw will become GrandDad for our little one. My GrandDad will become GrandFather to our baby. He says, "While I will love it, being called GrandFather will make me feel so old." Hell, he is old, he was born in 1840!" I was shocked. I said, "1840? Do all wizards live that long? How about us non-magical folk married to people from the Wizarding world?" George replied, "Papa says GrandDad is too healthy and stubborn to die before he wants to. I personally think St. Peter and the Angels are waiting till he mellows out a little before he is invited into the Pearly Gates. As for us, I have no idea. I just know my Papa was born in 1923. He is still healthy as can be. It will be many, many years before we take our final journey together." (I wish that statement were true. We had too few years together. GTR) George said, "Do you have any more questions of the magical nature?" I shook my head no. "Good, he said, I'm thirsty. I want one more cup of coffee before we go to talk to your folks, then mine. I'm going to lower the privacy spells now. If you think of anything else, we can talk about it in the car." I heard him say, "Finite Incantum." I looked at my watch, then my stone cold breakfast. Its seven thirty, I've been here over an hour and a half talking. I forgot to eat! The waitress came by a few minutes later. "I'm so sorry, she said, I didn't even notice you were here. I have been so busy. May I bring you something else?" I said, "When I sat down to eat, I thought I could. I probably couldn't keep it down today. We would like the check and one more cup of coffee please." The waitress delivered the check and the coffee. He said, "Now that we have the important stuff out of the way. We know that we love each other and want to get married; I do have additional news to tell you. The day before yesterday, when I got your letter, I received two others. Darling, I know you will be disappointed in me. We worked very hard to raise my grade point average. I was asked to re-apply in a year to the University." "It is all right George, I said, I know how hard you worked. You improved a lot! What was in the second letter?" "Denise, he stammered, how would you like to be the wife of a soldier, sailor, airman or marine? I received my Draft Notice as well. I report for my physical in 5 days time. I would like to have the ceremony as soon as possible then it would be our choice when to get married. Not our parents and not the government's. I've heard you need permission to marry when you are in the service. I don't know how quickly I will be sent to training after the physical." So that is one thing driving him, I thought. I said, "If we can make Daddy see the light of the situation, I would love to have him marry us. If he won't we can ask Bishop Moore, maybe he will. George, if need be, I will stand up with you in front of a Justice-of-the-Peace and say our vows. We could have a church wedding later." George looked so relieved. He said, "I love you Denise. Let's go talk to your Daddy. Together, we can do anything." (And was I ever relieved. I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off of my shoulders. GTR) He stood up and offered me his hand. Surprising me, he said to the people in the café, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this lady just made me the happiest man in the world! She agreed to become my bride!" I was proud but blushing. We walked to the register, paid the tab and left to find out our destiny.
|