Chapter Text
Author’s Notes: This chapter holds something of a special place in my story. It involves three characters that play a huge role in Heather’s life, albeit at very different points, and seeing how this is probably the last time I’ll get to write about them I figured they deserved one last story.
Also, I must once again beg your patience and forgiveness. I recently started a new job that is cutting out much of my writing time while I learn the ropes.
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
Chapter Forty-Four
The Burrow became a much happier place in the days after Christmas. In the aftermath of the holiday the stress and drear that had been filling the house vanished as though a balloon had been popped. Freed from feeling like she needed to hide her girlfriend from her family, Ginny came to life once more. No longer was Heather forced to sit through hours of brooding silence, in fact it was quite the opposite. Mrs. Weasley, now that she didn’t have the prospect of dinner with the Minister hovering over her head, practically pestered Ginny with questions. She wanted to know everything, from how it had started all the way up to the other night.
Heather watched Mrs. Weasley’s reactions closely as mother and daughter talked for hours on end. In all that time she never saw Mrs. Weasley blink once at the idea or reality of her daughter’s choice in partner. In fact, Heather was reminded of how Mrs. Weasley had so quickly accepted the truth of her identity in her sixth year and was glad her instincts had been right.
Along with the general relaxation of the house, Mrs. Weasley also eased back on her expectation that both girls be here with her at all times. She gave Ginny permission to travel up to London two days after Christmas, though only after securing the promise that Ginny would be back in time for dinner and that there would be no attempts at sleeping over at Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Weasley might not be quite as old fashioned as Ginny once believed, but there were still lines she was unwilling to cross just yet.
Unlike Ginny, Heather had never exactly been required to stay in the house. It was only the weather that had kept her so pent up. Now that the sky shone clear and Ginny was feeling more herself, she was eager to take advantage of the situation. In contrast to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley who had both blossomed into life since Christmas, Heather had found herself retreating inwards again. It was as though her conversation with Kingsley had brought things that had been comfortably lingering in the recesses of her mind back into the forefront.
For one thing, the end of the school year felt much closer than it had only a few days ago. She remembered how it had been the same while she’d been putting off preparing for the Second Task. A week ago the end of June felt like it was ages away, now she couldn’t shake the idea that it would be here before she knew it and she hadn’t done anything about figuring out a plan for after Hogwarts.
Along with this, and also tied to her recent determination to see things put right after the war, Heather knew that her time of standing on the sidelines had to come to an end. If Kingsley followed her plan and laid the ‘blame’ for adding Snape’s name to the memorial on her shoulders, she was bound to get pulled back in anyway. So, she decided, it was better to get involved herself rather than waiting for it to happen outside of her control.
She left the Burrow one morning a few days after Christmas with Ginny. Together they apparated to the hidden front step of Grimmauld Place. Then, while Ginny vanished gleefully into the house’s cavernous interior, Heather descended the two steps down to street level and walked purposefully off into muggle London. In contrast to the previous week, the sun brightly lit the streets as she walked giving the day and bright and happy feeling, even if it didn’t give the air any warmth. Thankfully Heather had brought Tonk’s old coat with her from school and it was doing a marvelous job of keeping her warm. After a few blocks she clambered aboard a bus and rode the remaining distance to Charing Cross Road.
Since it was only a few days after the holiday, the Leaky Cauldron was practically deserted. The pub’s only customers were a dozen aged warlocks at the bar who seemed too busy muttering amongst each other to notice her pass through into the backyard. The landlord Tom looked up as she walked in, recognized her, and gave a cheery wave before returning his attention to his patrons.
Heather wasted no time in passing the enchanted archway into Diagon Alley. The moment the stone wall resolidified behind her, her sense of urgency vanished. Her quick, hurried footsteps slowed and turned into a gentle meander down the cobbled stone street. Perhaps it was because most of her visits over the summer had been at night when she and her fellow aurors had frequented the Wyvern in Knockturn Alley, but she was struck anew by just how many new shops had sprung into life since the war ended. As there were no more than a handful of other shoppers about who seemed more interested in catching up with friends than with her, she took her time and looked interestedly at the many different window displays. While she had come to Diagon Alley with a few purposes in mind, now that she was here she found extreme contentment in just being by herself.
She was so lost in idle thought and window shopping that she found herself at the bottom of the marble steps of Gringotts with no memory of how long she’d been standing there. Fortunately for her, this was her first step. Pushing her way through the two sets of double doors into the hall, she was briskly taken by a goblin down to her vault. What she planned to purchase would take almost all of what remained of the gold her parents had left her, but something told her that her dad would consider it money well spent. Eager now to get on with her shopping and the rest of the day, Heather walked briskly back towards the exit fifteen minutes later when a voice called to her across the hall. “Miss Potter, a moment if you please?”
Heather turned mid stride to see the same old goblin who had given her so much grief on her first visit following the Battle of Hogwarts. Today at least he wasn’t actively sneering at her. Instead, he fixed her with a smile that did not reach his cold eyes as he strode towards her with all the dignity of a foreign minister. He bowed low when he reached her, though not as low as the other goblins in the bank. It was a carefully calculated move to show deference to one of the bank’s more affluent customers while at the same time conveying that the past between Heather and goblin kind was a long way from being forgotten.
“Erm, yes?” Heather asked, at a loss for what the goblin could want. After the war she had agreed to pay a large sum of gold to the families of those goblins who had died during her break in, which had practically wiped out her old vault before her Ministry pay had refilled it some. But that had all been wrapped up before the school year had begun so what could they possibly want now?”
“My apologies for waylaying you in such a fashion, but I was just notified you were in the bank. Would you please follow me?” Without waiting for her to agree, the aged goblin left her standing there as he walked sedately back towards the door Heather knew led to his office. Sighing and knowing that the better thing to do in this situation was to quietly give in, Heather followed.
The goblin did not speak again until they were both inside his office and the door was secured behind them. “Again, allow me to extend my apologies,” he said stiffly as he climbed into a raised chair behind his desk. Heather found it amusing that the chair was raised high enough off the ground that its occupant would not be forced to look up at whatever witch or wizard was sitting across from him.
“Right, but what can I do for you?” Heather asked, working her face into a polite smile of interest that did not show her apprehension.
The goblin, whose name Heather realized she still did not know, summoned one of the thick ledgers off the wall of bookshelves with a snap of his fingers. The leather cover of the book was so old and faded that Heather doubted the writing on it was still legible. Setting a pair of gold glasses on his nose, the goblin opened the book to the middle and extracted a long envelope from it. “For you, Miss Potter,” he said, handing it to her.
Heather opened the stiff paper with nervous fingers, unfolded the bunch of papers inside, and felt her jaw drop. The first page comprised a summary of the value of the Black family vault and its various holdings. She’d always known that the Black’s were one of those old, rich, pureblood families like the Malfoys, but she’d still never quite comprehended just how much Sirius had left her. Numbly she flipped through the pages until it all became too much. She stuffed the papers back into the envelope hurriedly and set it back on the des.
“Are you alright, Miss Potter?” the goblin asked her.
“Erm, fine,” Heather said, eyeing the envelope much the same way she would a coiled snake laying before her.
“Following the conclusion of last year’s unpleasantness, Gringotts has been asked by the Ministry to conduct an inventory of the many vaults that we have been entrusted with, specifically those of anyone who had been involved in the turmoil. This has been done as the result various actions carried out by those who were previously in power to strip certain individuals and families of their wealth.
Quickly reading through the lines of the goblin’s oily voice, Heather knew that he was talking about muggleborns who had been unfortunate enough to be sent to Azkaban. “Our inventory of the formerly Black family vault was completed only last week. The delay was due to there being no transactions in or out of that vault in the last five years.”
“Right, and this couldn’t have been sent by an owl?” Heather asked before her brain caught up with her.
The goblin stiffened behind his desk. “It is bank policy that such documents are handled in person, Miss Potter. As this is your first time seeing such a document, we had assumed that you would have questions.”
Heather’s brain was spinning to quickly to entirely comprehend the fact that the goblins of Gringotts were attempting to genuinely assist her. It had begun dawning on her that the question of her needing a career was now something less dire. “Erm, no” she said at last. “I think I’m good, thanks.”
“Very well, Miss Potter. As you know Gringotts will always be happy to help should you need any assistance in the future.”
The interview at an end, the goblin led her back to the bank’s front door and bade her farewell with another calculated bow. Heather, however, was too caught up seeing the summaries and inventories flashing before her eyes to pay him more than the barest attention. She knew that nothing she’d just been shown really changed anything. But maybe she could use that gold for a better purpose. She remembered how Lucius Malfoy used to strut about, doling out gold by the bagful to get his way and buy friends. What if she could do the same sort of thing, but better? Sirius had left her that gold, as much to keep it out of his cousin’s hands as to upset his parents. So, what better way to use it than to keep old Mrs. Black rolling over in her grave?
As lost in thought as she had been on her way down the alley, Heather walked carefully so that the large amount of gold now filling her pocket didn’t clink loudly enough to be noticed. It she’d been leaving Diagon Alley she wouldn’t have bothered carrying it, but seeing as her next stop was only a few doors down and it would be a brave witch or wizard that would dare try to rob her, it wasn’t that much of an imposition.
Quality Quidditch Supplies was as cluttered as ever. The same shopkeeper who had helped her over the summer was behind the counter, looking extremely harried as he worked over a ledger much like Heather had just seen inside Gringotts. At the sound of the bell, he glanced up and, with a look of immense relief that he could leave his bookkeeping to assist a customer, slammed the book shut and moved to greet her.
“Miss Potter,” he said amiably, shaking her hand. “What an absolute pleasure to have you back again.”
“You as well,” Heather replied honestly. She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said about Rita Skeeter during her latest, and apparently last, smear campaign against her. It was that very support that had brought her back here. She glanced around the shelves which were organized in a very pell-mell fashion.
The storekeeper massaged the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, been a bit mad in here and haven’t had time to tidy up. What can I help you with?” A look of concern flitted suddenly across his worn face. “I hope you aren’t having trouble with that Nimbus I sold you.”
“Oh, no,” Heather said quickly, watching as the concern faded into relief again. She amused herself for a moment wondering just how he’d have reacted if he’d sold her a defective broomstick. “I’m looking for a present for someone, actually.”
The man grasped what Heather was after with only the briefest explanation. He wandered through the rows picking up and discarding options until at last he found what she was after. Ten minutes later Heather emerged from the store with a long, thin paper box tucked under her arm. When she’d said who it was for, the man had insisted on wrapping it in bright green paper with golden stars on it that shimmered in the light and a matching bow. She walked a few steps down the row before turning on the spot and disappearing from view.
A heartbeat later she arrived outside the familiar home of Andromeda Tonks. Andromeda had written to her the day after Christmas to tell her that Teddy was finally feeling up to company. The older witch opened the door a few seconds after Heather’s knock, took one look at what was under Heather’s arm, and let out a cry of anguish. “Oh no! Don’t you go bringing that in here!”
Heather laughed and hugged her, careful to keep the present out of arm’s reach. Suddenly she felt something bump into her leg. She looked down confused, wondering what it could be because she knew Andromeda didn’t have any pets, to find a small human with his grandmother’s light brown hair and kind eyes was staring at up her. Teddy Lupin, standing unsteadily on his own two feet, gripped Heather’s pants tightly as he struggled to maintain his balance. A wide, toothy grin broke out on his face as Heather looked on in amazement.
“Hello there,” she said softly, absentmindedly letting Andromeda relieve her of her burden as she reached down to scoop up her godson.
“He started walking a few weeks ago,” Andromeda explained as she ushered Heather inside. “And let me tell you he’s become an absolute menace ever since.”
“Well, look where he gets it from,” Heather replied, not taking her eyes off Teddy. She was astounded at just how much he had grown in the few months since she’d seen him. As was his usual habit, he had already shifted his features to align with Heather’s, swapping from curly brown hair to her straight black and mirroring her green eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Andromeda replied good naturedly as they entered the sitting room. “His mother started walking early too. Broke more things than any child I’d ever heard of.” She set the wrapped box on the floor and lowered herself into her armchair. “So why you thought he needed one of these blasted things I’ll never know.”
“Bit of a tradition,” Heather shrugged. She chose to sit on the floor next to Teddy’s present and let him use her shoulder as a support. He suddenly caught sight of the shimmering stars on the wrapping and had begun gabbling nonstop. Over Andromeda’s sigh of resignation, Heather asked him, “want me to help you open it?”
Before she could do more than reach for it, Teddy gave a sudden lurch and threw himself over her leg to get it at. His tiny fists grabbed at every piece of loose paper he could, giving Heather the impression that he could care less what lay beneath the wrappings so long as he could make the biggest mess possible getting to it. With a laugh, Heather grabbed the bow from where it lay forgotten amidst the debris and set it on Teddy’s head. The paper was instantly forgotten as Teddy tried in vain to remove the offending item from his head with both his chubby arms.
When at last there was no more destruction to be achieved, Teddy sat in Heather’s lap staring at the gleaming miniature broomstick that had just been removed from its box. Hesitation replaced excitement as it hung suspended in midair about a foot off the ground. “Gah,” Teddy said to Heather, twisting his hands together in front of himself nervously.
Heather shot Andromeda an inquiring look. “You might as well, since you went and got him the cursed thing.”
This was all the encouragement Heather needed. In one motion she had grabbed Teddy under his armpits and settled him on the broom’s handle. She tried several times in vain to place his hands in the correct place on the polished wood but refused to release his grip on her. She settled for holding each of his hands in hers above his head and straddling the broom, which was hovering about halfway up her calf. Feeling clumsy and that she looked extremely foolish, she took a few tentative steps forward.
Teddy let out a scream that Heather wasn’t quite sure was of fear or delight as they set off slowly around Andromeda’s armchair. Concerned that he was afraid, Heather brought the broom to a stop and stared down at him. Hovering in midair, Teddy kicked his legs wildly and pumped his arms. He screamed again, this time making it clear that remaining still was not what he wanted to be doing. Heather grinned and they took off again, going as fast as she could in such an awkward arrangement. What hesitancy Teddy might have had regarding broomsticks was gone by the time their first circuit of the room was complete.
“You’ve created a monster,” Andromeda told her sternly, but Heather had already caught sight of the adoring looks she favored her grandson with as they zoomed around the room.
“Just wait till he’s old enough for the real thing,” Heather teased. She was going to be the sort of godparent that Sirius could have been if he hadn’t been in Azkaban. Teddy would never know the feeling of being unloved or abandoned by his family.
Andromeda shook her head and said with real firmness this time. “Don’t you even think about it until he’s at least ten.”
Feeling worn out after the fifth time around, Heather brought the broom to a stop and settled Teddy back on the rug. His screams of delight instantly transitioned into loud, raucous tears that made Heather hesitate. She was just about to pick him up again when Andromeda stopped her. “No, just let him cry.”
So, while Teddy spent fifteen minutes throwing a fit that flying time was done, Andromeda served tea as calmly as possible amid the noise. There wasn’t much opportunity for conversation all things considered, but Heather hadn’t quite realized just how hungry she’d been until food was placed in front of her. When Teddy finally subsided into silence, Heather broached one of the things she’d been thinking about since leaving Gringotts. “Erm, Andromeda, how are…is Teddy…do you have enough money?”
Andromeda set her cup back on its saucer and eyed him in a very matronly way. “What exactly are you asking?”
Heather stopped before the many things she wanted to express came out in a rapid-fire way. “Well, I know that Remus never really had much in the way of money, and your family cut you off, and I’ve got all this-“
“Heather, stop.” Andromeda cut her off gently. “I know what you’re getting at. We’re alright. No, Remus didn’t leave Teddy much, but Dora had her auror salary and that’s left us a tidy bit of gold, plus what Ted and I already had set aside.” At the mention of her husband Andromeda stopped and closed her eyes. “I’m more than able to provide for Teddy,” she finished, opening her eyes again. The edge that had crept into her voice gave Heather pause.
“I wasn’t trying to say you couldn’t,” she replied quietly. “I just…I don’t want him or you to ever worry about anything like that. I grew up with a family that made sure I had nothing, and now that I have more money than I can even fathom I want to make sure that Teddy, that everyone I care about, is taken care of.”
Andromeda’s expression had slackened. “Sorry, I know you weren’t. And I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Level with me on one thing though, Heather. This isn’t out of some misplaced guilt you’re still carrying around about Remus and Dora dying and you thinking it was for you, is it?”
Heather’s cheeks burned as the sting of what she’d just been asked whipped across her. “How did you…”
A light chuckle filled the air. “Molly and I have been keeping in touch over the past few months. She mentioned that was something you’d been dealing with for years. Listen, you’re Teddy’s godmother so I have no problem with you helping me raise him after you leave school, and yes that includes financially. But that’s the only way I’m going to accept money from you. If it’s coming from a place of guilt than I don’t want it, understood.”
Heather’s ears burned and she felt her throat go dry. That hadn’t been where this offer had come from at all. In fact, it had been a while since she’d felt anything remotely like guilt over anyone who had died. True, she had decided that she was done sitting on the sidelines and was determined to do her part in making things right, but this wasn’t even that. “I swear,” she said firmly.
Andromeda took a long sip of tea before replying. “Good. Now, why don’t you take Teddy for a few more rounds while I clean up.”
While she had nothing to compare him to, Heather somehow knew that Teddy was going to be a natural on a broomstick. She knew both of his parents had been decent flyers from the two times they’d rescued her from Privet Drive, even if they hadn’t been exactly spectacular. But there was just something about the way Teddy’s confidence was already growing by the time that they’d finished their fifth lap that made her sure she was witnessing the start of a future quidditch star. Then again, she freely admitted to herself, she was more than a little biased.
When Andromeda came back into the room after tidying up, Heather picked Teddy up again and hugged him goodbye. Over his shoulder she saw Andromeda snatch up the broom and vanish again. “It’ll be safe in my wardrobe until you come back. Merlin knows I’m not going to teach him how to use it,” she said in a whisper when she returned again.
“It’s going to be hard leaving him again,” Heather said as they walked towards the door. She didn’t want to let him go.
“I’ll be sure to remember that when you’re done with school. Expect to be babysitting, a lot.” Andromeda replied, extracting the baby from Heather’s grip.
“Anytime,” Heather said, planting one more kiss on Teddy’s forehead and ruffling his hair.
Outside, the sun was almost on the horizon. Instead of apparating away immediately, Heather set off down the lane, pursued by Teddy’s forlorn shouts for her to come back. The day had slipped away from her before she’d known it. It wasn’t really like there had been that much to do, just picking Ginny up from Grimmald Place and checking on the house, but right now the last thing she wanted to do was throw her already cluttered mind into that hotbed of chaos. So, she pulled her coat more tightly around herself and kept walking, and while she walked she thought.
Once again, she’d been reminded that the end of the school year was approaching. With Sirius’s gold she didn’t need to have a plan, or at least not an immediate one, but wasn’t there something weaker about that option? It certainly didn’t line up with her determination to make a difference, to make up for all the destruction that had centered around her life, even if none of it had ever really been her fault?
The easiest answer was quidditch. Smiling inwardly, she allowed the world around her to fade as inside her mind she pictured herself wearing bright robes standing amongst six other identically clad people. Stands full of screaming supporters grew as though they’d sprouted out of the ground until they towered above her. From the top box a magically magnified voice that sounded a lot like Ludo Bagman was calling her name out to tumultuous applause.
A real smile had plastered itself across her face as the daydream continued. Now she was on a broomstick, taking to the air while a hundred thousand people screamed with delight. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be picked up by a team straight out of Hogwarts. Very probably she’d have her pick of the league to play for. Once it became public knowledge that Heather Potter wanted to go pro scouts and recruiters would be flocking to Hogwarts just to spend five minutes talking to her. She could be famous, properly famous this time. Famous for something she’d actually accomplished instead of just for a stupid scar that was fading from her forehead.
Then, in the exact moment her imaginary fingers curled tightly around an equally fictitious snitch, the vision faltered. Was it really likely that whatever team ended up recruiting her would be doing it because of her ability? Wasn’t it more likely that it was her name they’d be after? Every team in the nation, and probably a handful of international ones as well would kill to recruit Heather Potter. It wouldn’t matter to them if she was good, all that would matter was that she was playing in their color robes.
And for that matter, did she really want to keep being famous? A hollow, empty chuckle answered this question for her because it wasn’t like she really had a choice in the matter. Try as she might through the years, she’d never been able to remove herself from the public eye solely because of who she was. Articles, pictures, even whole papers had been dedicated to her. But there was a definite difference between being famous for something she couldn’t control and willingly throwing herself back into the spotlight. By playing quidditch professionally she’d be inviting that same level of scrutiny all over again. Her life would once again be front page news for the wizarding public to gossip about and tear apart. Was that something she really wanted to put up with again?
By now it was well and truly dark, and Heather was still walking along the lane. A contemplative mood had settled around her like a thick cloak, making the act of trying to figure out what her future held more and more difficult. She was glad that Teddy had enjoyed flying with her, even if Andromeda hadn’t been all that pleased. Heather knew that Teddy was probably too young for his present, but she also hadn’t been wrong when she’d said it was a tradition. Somewhere in her room at the Burrow was the old photo album Hagrid had given her. In between pages full of old school pictures of her parents she’d tucked the photograph her mother had once sent Sirius of her zooming around the house on a toy broomstick.
And now Heather knew exactly what she wanted to do. Not about her career or her future, but something a lot closer to home. She wanted to curl up in bed and flip through that old photo album again. Siezing on that impulse, Heather vanished into oblivion and appeared a moment later just outside the Burrow’s fence. She trudged through the snow quickly, thinking only of the warmth inside.
To her surprise, the only person waiting for her was Mrs. Weasley, who was busy getting dinner ready. “Oh hello Heather dear. Back already?” she asked as Heather slid out of her coat and hung it on an empty hook.
“Am I early?” Heather asked, sure that Ginny was supposed to have been back by now.
Mrs. Weasley caught on to her confusion and smiled knowingly. “Arthur is still at work and I’m sure Ginny will be along soon. Dinner should be ready in an hour or so if you’d like to go get cleaned up first.”
“Right, thanks Mrs. Weasley.” Heather had already started to turn and leave the kitchen when she saw the smile falter on Mrs. Weasley’s face. “Is…is something wrong?” she asked as she came to a sudden stop.
“What?” Mrs. Weasley said quickly, coming back from a reverie she’d apparently slipped into in the few seconds since Heather had started to leave. “Oh, it’s nothing dear. Just…just being silly is all,” she added with a sigh.
Heather took a few steps back from the doorway leading through to the living room. “Mrs. Weasley, what is it?”
“Never you mind,” Mrs. Weasley replied, picking up a large pot and hanging it from a hook over the fire. Using her wand, she began filling it with a thick, creamy soup whose scent began wafting through the room. When Heather didn’t leave she sighed again. “I suppose I just forget sometimes how much you all have grown up. There was a time when you kids being home from school meant that the house was full of life. Now you’re all eager to go running off the first chance you get.”
Considering how much of the last week had been spent in relative confinement with Ginny while Mrs. Weasley obsessively cleaned, Heather struggled for a moment to see her point. Then she recalled how her room had felt and how excited Mrs. Weasley had been to cook for everyone again. “Mrs. Weasley, would you like some help with dinner?” she suggested quietly. She expected Mrs. Weasley to brush aside her offer like she had been doing for the past week, but it felt like something had changed.
Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley’s dismissal was out of her mouth before Heather even finished her offer. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’re out guest and-“
But Heather had already snatched up a spare apron from next to the sink and was slipping it over her head. “How many times have you told me to consider myself family in this house?” she asked. Once the apron was securely tied around her waist she began pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She walked over to stand next to Mrs. Weasley. “But, er, I’ve never cooked with magic before. I mean,” she said quickly before Mrs. Weasley could steamroll over her determination to help, “Hermione and I did a little while we were on the run, but that was mostly just conjuring a fire and then cooking like muggles.”
Mrs. Weasley, who was now doing her best to hide the fact that she was wiping away a tear, pulled herself back together. “Well then,” she said in her usual brisk, warm voice. “It’s about time you learn then, young lady. I know that times have changed, and cooking isn’t expected of a wife like it was back in my day and that you have Kreacher to take care of you, but it’s still an excellent skill to know. Goodness knows my own daughter doesn’t want anything to do with it, but then I suppose I really have at least two daughters, don’t I?” Before Heather could reply, Mrs. Weasley took her comment one step further. “Besides, you might very well have children some day and it’ll be a good thing to teach them.”
Heather blushed as she was once again reminded of the fact that the future was going to be far more complicated than she ever could have imagined even sixth months ago. Doing her best to put that picture out of her mind so she could follow along with what Mrs. Weasley was saying, the two witches set to work with a will making dinner.