aftermath

March 30th, 1993

"JANE? ARE YOU listening?"

Ms. Sloan snapped her fingers in front of the young lady's eyes and Daisy found herself back in her mother's study, staring emptily at her unfinished essay. "H— Huh?"

"Is something bothering you?" Mrs. Sloan crossed her arms and sat down on her seat. She paid a closer attention on the girl's pale complexion, swollen eyes, and darkened eye bags, "Mr. Allen?"

Daisy smiled, though it looked rather weary and forced, "You know my father's issue never bothers me anymore, ma'am."

"You can tell me. Is it—"

She wanted to spill it out. To get her feelings out in the open and deal with them properly —the grief, confusion, agitation, frustration, all of them. But she couldn't, so she just forced a smile and said, "It's nothing, ma'am. Really!"

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

March 30th, 1993

GINNY EXPECTED HER mother to ramble on, the next episode of high pitched 'Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your father? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic—'

But she didn't.

Neither did her father.

She literally clung to Mrs. Weasley's leg, clutching her grey ankle-length skirt in her tight first, as they trod their way towards the Hospital Wing. Fred, George, and Percy walked side by side, exactly one step behind. Mr. Weasley had one arm wrapped around his wife and the other around his youngest son, his body pressed against his family's radiating warmth so he could reassure himself that they were safe. All of them.

(Professor McGonagall had returned after alerting the kitchen to prepare a feast later that day and took over Ron's duty to tend to Professor Lockhart. By tend, she meant cast a silencing spell on him and levitated him all the way to the infirmary.

And, of course, Harry stayed behind in Professor Dumbledore's office)

Everyone was radio silent. They just soaked in each other's presence... the joy, relief, and gratefulness that came along with it.

Ginny's tears didn't stop flowing and her lips didn't stop trembling. She was dizzy with guilt and condemnation. Her mind kept playing the memory of young, handsome Tom Riddle, emerging from her supposed little diary. Color draining from her face... Cold wind blowing hard against it... The sound of her scream deafened by the magical storm...

"It's okay, dear," she heard a soft whisper, like a soothing lullaby.

Mrs. Weasley stroke her hair affectionately.

"You're safe with Mummy now."

She didn't let go of Mrs. Weasley's skirt as Mr. Weasley lifted her onto the infirmary's bed, Madame Pomfrey gave her a goblet full of dreamless sleep potion, and each of her brothers planted a kiss on her forehead, until she was captured by the strong, lulling urge to sleep.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

March 30th, 1993

DAISY SNEAKED OUT of her house a few minutes before midnight and dashed towards the Weasley residence in her blue, satin nightgown. Even though it was spring and the roadsides had sprouted flowers in different colors, the night was unusually chilly. Thick clouds were covering half of the moon. Her heart hammered against her ribcage and her braided golden hair bounced off her back in the same rhythm as her quick footsteps.

However, when Daisy arrived, the Burrow was dark and empty.

She decided to wait outside their door for nearly an hour, crouching, before dragging her feet back to her place.

So... Is it decided then? Is it confirmed?

Is she dead? Ginny, are you really dead?

She drew a long, deep breath. You're not, are you? Gin?

Is Mrs. Weasley okay? Is she eating well?

What about Fred? George?

Kicking on some random rock, she thought, I wish Hermes is here, so I can mail them something.

Send them a letter, at least.

A quick movement of shadow caught Daisy's attention and she snapped her head up from the ground with wide eyes, like a doe caught in headlights. She gulped... looked around... praying fervently that it wasn't her father.

But then she caught a glimpse of someone in a dress, and Daisy sighed in relief.

"Who's there?" she called out quietly.

The figure hesitated for a second before leaning half of her body out from the shadow. Then she stepped out into the moonlit yard, and Daisy could clearly see her distinctive Asian features and wavy black hair.

"Y— Young Miss?"

"Lucy?"

"I apologize for surprising you," Lucy said sheepishly, "I couldn't sleep so I thought I would walk around the ground."

Daisy smiled, "It's fine, really. Take all the time you need. Hope you find sleep soon."

"Thank you," Lucy stood up straight and bowed slightly in habit.

"Oh, please keep this... my night walk from my father." Daisy returned the young servant's polite bow and began to walk towards the door.

"Wait. Young Miss."

Daisy stopped and turned around.

"May I... ask you three questions?"

"Uh..." Daisy frowned curiously, "Yes, sure."

The two young girls ended up swaying on the garden's swing side by side with their toes barely touching the grassy lawn. It took Daisy several minutes to convince Lucy that she could sit with her, because servant or not, they were equally human beings.

"Umm... Firstly..." Lucy paused, "I'm sorry if I seem impudent, talking to you directly like this. My Ma always forbid me to. But I... I just... want— wanted— I have been meaning to say something to you—"

Daisy noticed how she ran her thumb over the other to mask her anxiety. The former placed her soft hand over the latter's calloused ones. Her sincerity shone through her eyes and her smile, "I can see how strict your mother is. She's very stern."

"You... know my mother?"

"Of course," Daisy frowned, "We've been living under the same roof for the last five years."

"But there are so many servants here... I thought... you didn't pay attention... And you're rarely present, so, wow," Lucy's eyes widened in awe.

Daisy shyly tucked a hair behind her ear, "Well... Thank you, I guess."

She didn't know it before, but seeing Lucy and her vibrant smile and fingers the size of her own, Daisy finally realized that she missed being around... kids.

Lucy Wu was one year older than she was.

Ms. Aubert, the butler of the Allen Residence, hired the widowed Mrs. Wu as cleaning staff a few years back, who brought her little kid along with her. The kid grew up there, socialized with other neighboring servant kids, and helped around the house whenever she was needed or bored. Up until that night, Daisy and Lucy's interaction were strictly limited to polite requests and respectful nods.

Lucy's mother —well, everyone in the house, witnessed the extent of damage Mr. Allen's rage could inflict. Thus, most of the servants didn't want to meddle with the Allens' lives any more than necessary.

"So, the first question..." Lucy began, "May I ask... if you're feeling okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't look very well, these last two days. Is everything okay? Uh, I mean, if I may ask, of course, and if you don't mind answering—"

"Please!" Daisy interjected, "Speak casually to me. Please."

"Really?"

"Really. I missed having a friend. And, well," Daisy sighed, "In the spirit of honesty, I am not... okay."

"Does it—"

"Wait, Ms. Wu, can we take turn? Asking questions?"

Lucy seemed taken aback for a second, but when she saw how Daisy was trying to meet her in the middle, she was ecstatic. And she called her miss!

"Call me Lucy."

"Lucy," Daisy bit her lip and clenched her fists. "Will you... be my friend?"

"Wow... You got to my third question first. Of course!"

"You can call me by my name, too."

"Okay, Jane."

"Actually... I prefer Daisy."

The two exchanged looks and chuckles.

"Which leaves me with the second question, Daisy," Lucy began, "Your sadness, does it have anything to do with... with the Weasley family next door?"