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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

EsliEsma · Bücher und Literatur
Zu wenig Bewertungen
1224 Chs

Afternoon Tea Party Ⅱ

After the last of the guests departed, Sirsa with great determination marched towards her husband's study. The door to Reginald's study is open, but Sirsa knocks on the open door. "May I have a quick word, Reginald?"

Sensing a certain tone, Reginald immediately looked up from reading the ancient manuscript before him. "Yes, dear, I am all ears."

Sirsa enters her husband's study and firmly shuts the door behind her. "I wish to discuss our grandchildren."

"What about them?" Reginald rushed to his feet. "They are not injured, are they?!"

"No, no, nothing like that," Sirsa waved the question away. "Sit down!"

Reginald sits back with a frown. "The twins have been adapting rather well and are rather intelligent," he slowly said, "but I have noticed their dislike for sitting with their back towards open doors." Although, he was secretly proud of their impressive instincts.

Sirsa commenced explaining the entire incident that had transpired earlier that afternoon. Reginald listened with a bit of a frown. "I see so it was Georgine, who was at fault," he concluded.

"To an extent," Sirsa reminded her husband of Rowan's reaction. "However, the tale does not end there."

"Oh?"

"No, it was the subsequent conversation that concerns me," Sirsa grimaced and proceeded to recount the poignant conversation.

Reginald slumps back in his seat and rubs his face with his hand. "I should have known something was off," he bitterly lamented. "The twins are far too calm and mature for their age. They just seem to take everything in stride I had erroneously assumed it was because they were still children. I had never thought-."

Reginald lets out a sigh as his hands clench in anger until his knuckles turn white. He showed have recognized the signs. He knew all too well having experienced them himself.

"I still not believe how Eileen permitted such an atrocity to occur," Sirsa dejectedly said in disappointment. "But this much I am certain, our grandchildren shall never set foot in that house again!"

Now, this is something that Reginald knew how to handle. "Worry not dear, I will ensure that the brute is properly taken care of."

"Wait!" Sirsa said causing Reginald to frown at his wife.

"I wish the muggle as dead as much as you, dear," Sirsa icily declared. "However for the sake of twins, do not force the children to feel adrift from that man! And though I hold not the slightest hint of respect for that muggle, he is their father."

"Very well, dear. I do not like it, but I shall do as you ask of me," Reginald grudgingly responded.

"Thank you, Reginald," Sirsa sincerely thanked her husband, before turning to open the door.

"And dear," Reginald called out to Sirsa's back. "Eileen may very well deserve all of your wrath, but for the twin's sake, please try to reign in some of your anger."

"I shall not make any promises, but I'll try," Sirsa replied over her shoulder before striding away to scream her fury in the privacy of their shared chamber.

Within the confines of his study, Reginald is left to quietly ponder the foremost dilemma. He had promised his wife he would not kill the bastard, but there were plenty of other ways to deal with such a vicious brute. And just like that, Reginald commenced to several letters to ensure that the man would be properly taken care of without anything being traced back to him.

Sometime later with great personal satisfaction, Reginald hands Dawn the handwritten letters to post via owl. Once the letters are gone, he strides towards the East Wing. He knocks on the door and waits for a response.

"Who is it?" Georgine harrumphed.

"It's me," Reginald answered a bit muffled by the door.

"Fine, enter," Georgine grumbled.

Reginald turns the golden handle to reveal the inside of Georgine's room. The inside of his sister's room is quite bright and exorbitant full of exquisite paintings and gorgeous furniture pieces. There is an almost oriental feel to the chamber as beautiful, delicate fans, a katana, and even a Chinese sword hung artistically on the wall amid the tasteful decorations.

Georgine reclines on a gorgeous red sofa smoking a long, thin, red, cigarette. And on the other hand, she holds a book. "Well, be quick about it, I'm trying to read," she puffed.

Reginald smoothly takes a seat in an elegant low back Victorian-era chair. "I know that you've never been fond of children, Georgine-."

"Nasty little things," Georgine rudely interrupted.

Reginald impatiently raises an eyebrow as Georgine shamelessly glares back. Reginald sighs in vexation, "I understand that Georgine, but they are fairly well-behaved children. Other than the incident of today, can you actually say that the twins have been a bother to you?"

"No," Georgine stiffly huffed as the tip of the cigarette ash fell to only be caught in an enchanted ashtray.

"I am not asking you to grow to like them, but please try to be a bit patient with the twins," Reginald genuinely requested. "They have led a rough life and they may not always react as you and I would now." He paused and added. "They were like us."

Reginald waits for a reply and is only granted a stiff nod from Georgine in reply. Satisfied, he leans back with ease. "So how was the tea party?"

"Oh, the usual bore," Georgine murmured as she puffed out a cloud of smoke. "I don't know why, Sirsa, still insists on holding those annoying tea tête-à-têtes. Those women have nothing on their mind but fluff. I would even hazard to say that any muggle picked off the street would be that much more interesting to converse with."

"I don't know either," Reginald vehemently agreed.

Georgine glares at her brother in an accusatory manner. "Easy for you to say, you just hide away in your study, while I'm the one who gets dragged in by Sirsa to attend to each time." Reginald apologetically shrugs as a trace of a smile appears on Georgine's face.

Seeing the faint smile on Georgine's face, Reginald knows that his job is done. Reginald rises out of the chair with a grunt and turns to leave. "Just make sure not to kill him, Reginald," Georgine pointedly remarked.

Reginald pauses and innocently says over his shoulder, "I fail to understand your meaning, Georgine?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Reginald, don't play coy," Georgine said as she took another puff of her cigarette. "I saw that girl's gaze. It was the gaze of someone prepared to bitterly face off to the death at the expense of their own life to protect another."

"I already promised, Sirsa, that I would not."

"Mm, that's not much of an answer."

"I won't kill him and that's all I can promise."

"I suppose that is the best that you promise considering the circumstances," Georgine muttered in a cloud of smoke that now permeated through the entire bedroom.

"You really should open a window," Reginald grumbled back, before leaving and softly closing the door behind him. A slow lazy smile appears on Georgine's face as she releases a cloud of smoke in defiance of her brother's request. With some satisfaction, Georgine reclines back against the soft pillows and continues to read the biography, My Exotic Harem Adventures by Amelia Earhart.

I've always wondered if Amelia Earhart didn't secretly run off to live an extraordinary life...... Well, probably not, but it's nice to imagine that she did and that she faked her own death.

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