London

The sound of birds chirping in the still early, dark hours caused Rowan to let out a groan as she rolled to her side and sat up. Glancing at the still dark sky, she hastily glanced around and sighed in relief as she spotted her wand. She stopped a mere scant inch away as she stared at her perfectly unblemished healed hand. Quickly reaching to touch her right shoulder, she still feels the scar there with some mixed relief.

Slowly lowering her hand, Rowan quickly recalls her present location. She grabs her wand off the ground and teleports right back to the Leaky Cauldron. Vanishing the pillow version of herself, she sits down on the edge of the bed and just stares blankly into space for some time, before lying down.

Closing her eyes, Rowan checks her world mapscape and mindscape, but she finds no changes whatsoever. Neither had her body pathways grown as she had thrown all the recently stored energy right back out at the Resurrection Stone and had in fact even reverted a tad bit. There is still some minuscule trace left here and there, but nothing concrete that could truly be absorbed much less affect her.

Rowan opens her eyes with a frown, she knew she had not imagined the energy entering her body. Her healed arm was proof of that and her wand did not feel any different than before. When she cast the spell onto the transfigured pillow to return it back, she did not feel anything different. In that case, what had changed or rather what had the unknown magic done to her?

Knowing she was not going to receive any answers anytime soon, Rowan sat up undressed and climbed back into bed. She was mentally exhausted and very much would like to sleep. And sleep she did.

The two girls in the room did not wake up until late that morning to tour the city. For which Rowan was profusely thankful for as they went to see the historic sites. Personally, she would have loved to see the London Museum, but alas it would not be finished built and opened until December of the following year in 1976. Still they did stop by the British Museum to look around much to her delight as she studied the painting there. She would love to visit the Louvre one day and see the fabulous paintings located there.

After the museum tour they went on to see London Tower, where Rowan and Petunia proceeded to tease Andrew about decapitation and being hung. He turned rather green at their graphic gory descriptions. Which really were not that bad since that they were in fact quite historically accurate.

Their next stop was the London Bridge, where Petunia and Rowan sang, London Bridge is Falling Down. Andrew was rather nervous the entire time given that Rowan was a witch and words for wizardkind always hold power. He warily eyed the bridge lines the entire time they were on there. He only sighed in relief once they were once more on the ground.

Westminster Abbey was a real treat, because Petunia and Rowan could not keep silent gossiping about the royals who had cheated on their spouses despite having been married in the solemn chapel. Andrew for sure though they would be kicked out of the tour instead they were hustled quickly through the place. Thankfully, the two girls stopped snickering afterwards, mostly.

Though they did visit Big Ben as Andrew really wanted to see the tower. Petunia and Rowan tactfully kept silent until it was time to go back to the Leaky Cauldron. They happily showered and dressed as tonight was going to be their last night in London. They had dinner reservations and tickets to the Royal Opera House.

The three of them took a cab to the restaurant, London Chop House where there was a red carpet rolled out in front for those arriving. Petunia gulped at seeing the elegant people getting out as well as the wealthy. Rowan patted Petunia on the shoulder and whispered, "I'm loaded remember."

Petunia began to laugh as she forgot her nerves and Andrew happily took her hand and squeezed it. The three of them emerged from the cab as a bellboy opened the door for them and the three of them got out.

Rowan was wearing a long Madeline Vionnet style evening gown in dark blue indigo tones with long sleeves to cover the scar on her shoulder. Wearing her low flat slippers as usual, her long raven hair was loose and hung across her back and shoulders.

Petunia went for a knee-high evening gown with a flouncy skirt. She looked lovely in the peach like colored dress, and her hair loose and wavy over her shoulders. At her side, Andrew looked handsome in his suit with a matching peach colored tie.

The waiter at the front opens the door for them as they step inside and hear the chatter inside. The room smells of cigar, laughter and loud chatter can be heard. Rowan wrinkles her nose knowing that non-smoking sections have not gone into effect yet. This was an era where cigarettes were considered to be sexy and it was still widely believed that they helped you lose weight.

The host in a sharp tuxedo arches an eyebrow at seeing the youths before him. Rowan stares down her nose right back at him and says, "A table for Rowan Prince and two guests, Petunia Evans and Andrew Abbott."

The host stares down the list before saying, "Indeed, right this way Miss."

A waiter in a sharp white suit appears and takes them to respective seats, table one. The most coveted seat in the restaurant that could only be purchased for exorbitant amounts month in advance. And even then, one most have extreme political or powerful clout to gain said seat. But to shock of all those watching the three teens take the coveted table.

As expected of the proprietor, Grubers, there was a printed white card on the table with the words: Reservation, Rowan Prince. There was a personalized matchbox as well and a coin on the table to pay for their troubles in making the phone call. It was that a genuinely nice personal touch that would carry them all through the 70's until the restaurant was sold in the 80's.

Rowan instantly began to order lobster and a bunch of wonderful things. By the end of the meal they were all full. Though Rowan was a tad disappointed as despite being considered a high-class restaurant, it was a tad on the heavy side. Not that it was not enjoyable, but she did not think she could eat here more than two days in a row without severe heartburn.

Still, they happily made their way out of the restaurant into a waiting cab that was to take them to the Royal Opera. The London Royal Opera House is an exquisite building with gorgeous work and golden patterned decorations. They had tickets for the upper box balcony sections.

The Opera House was full of soft chatter until the red curtains with gold on them and royal crested insignia finally arose as the play began, it was Macbeth. The famous Shakespeare play reminded Rowan a little too much of her own circumstances. Ironically, she too was trying to overthrow someone not with the intention of becoming King though. But still, she understood how ambition in the end would most likely be the cause of untimely demise.

Especially the words of Lady Macbeth stuck a deep chord inside of her. "Here's the smell of blood still. All the perfumes in Arabia will not sweeten this little hand."

Rowan glanced down at her own hands as always in her nightmares she could still see the traces of blood on her hands. But much like the play's famous quote, "What's done, is done," and surely cannot be undone. And thus, it is best such thoughts be forgotten and be put swiftly out of mind, and out of sight.