Who: Julia, Natalie, Hannah and Henry Abbott. What: This is my first wrap up post. It's mushy. When: January through March. Where: The Abbott home(s). Status: Complete!
Late January.
“It’s over,” Julia said, putting the phone on speaker as she retrieved her dinner from the fridge where it had been put on one of the lower shelves, for her benefit. She put it on the table and started digging for her wand to heat it up. She stashed it under the seat of her wheelchair usually, for easy access. Unfortunately it occasionally it meant that it ended up wedged too far away. Today was one of those times.
“I’m gonna need a few more details, Jules.”
“They set a trap and all the Death Eaters showed up and You Know Who as well and they killed him.”
“Are you just saying this so I’ll come home?”
“No,” Julia said, retrieving her wand. “Well, a little. He did die, though. And there were a fuckload of arrests.”
“I don’t know. I talked to Devi. They’re not coming back.”
“I know that,” Julia said, her stomach twisting at the thought. “They need a break.”
“How do we know it’s safe? Did they arrest him?”
“Greyback? No. I doubt he’ll do anything, though. Their ‘dark lord’ is gone, and he’s endlessly self-serving, isn’t he? At least that's what it seems like."
“Well, yeah. It’s just… It’s risky. And Hannah loves it here. Her Spanish is better than mine and she doesn't even speak in complete sentences yet."
“What if she’ll forget English altogether?”
“Julia.” Natalie put on her patient voice. Julia had always hated when she did that. It had led to a few break-ups when they were in their teens. “You lived in Puerto Rico until you were five. You were fine when you returned.”
“I know. I just — I hate not having you here and I took that promotion. I can’t quit. I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know?”
“Soon, okay? Not quite yet, but soon. You can come here on weekends. Portkeys and all that.”
“It’s not the same.” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she didn’t care. “I want you here.”
“And I want to be there. Not quite yet, but soon. Okay?”
“I need to eat dinner before it gets cold,” Julia said, staring at her yet-to-be-warmed-up dinner.
“You’re a witch. Use a heating charm. Or the microwave.”
“Dad doesn't have a microwave. In case you forgot.”
“Julia.”
“Don’t ‘Julia’ me.”
Natalie hesitated. “Call me back later.”
“When I’ve calmed down.”
“Yes. When you’ve calmed down.”
“Fine.” Julia stabbed the button on her phone, glaring at it.
The worst part, she thought, was that Natalie was right.
* * *
Late February.
The kitchen was beautiful. All cupboards could be raised and lowered with a button, and the counters too. The fridge was just the right height. The stove didn’t have an oven below it, but to the side so she could get to it easily. Same with the sink. It hadn’t been cheap, but it was word every knut. Julia had never appreciated being able to cook a meal more.
There were other things too; the front door closed by itself, all thresholds were removed, there was a ramp into the backyard, and the bathroom had been gutted and rebuilt. It was amazing what happened when you asked for help, Julia thought as she wheeled herself into their house without struggling with the door.
There was probably a lesson in there somewhere.
“If I’d known I would’ve made this happen sooner,” Henry Abbott said, noticing the look on his daughter’s face.
“Yeah,” Julia said. “And if I hadn’t had a very embarrassing breakdown at Broderick of all people I wouldn’t have realised how much I needed it. Goes both ways.”
She’d still need help with the cleaning and groceries, of course. It was still better than living in her childhood home, with a worried father and more staff than she was comfortable with. (Two. Which was exactly two too many, if you asked her.)
“They’ll be home soon,” Henry said.
“Yeah. Hannah’s birthday. That’s what we decided on.”
“Three weeks.”
Julia smiled. “Three weeks.”
* * *
Late March.
It was only a fortnight since she last saw them, but hugging Hannah on her lap felt different when it was here, in the home they’d bought together, and if Hannah squirmed out of her lap because Julia was making her sticky with tears it was still worth it.
“I missed this,” Natalie said, crouching to get down on the same level as her wife. “But I’m not sorry I missed February in Britain.”
Julia pulled her in for a kiss. “You’re a little sorry,” she said.
“A lot, actually. I lied.”
“Next time I’ll say no to the job and come with you.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Natalie said into her hair. “I refuse. Plus he’s super dead, so.”
“Yeah,” Julia said with a sigh. “Super-duper dead. And Amelia made sure a few of them were sent off to rot. For-fucking-ever.”
“You know what’s weird?” Natalie said, getting to her feet. “People like us don’t get happy endings. And this kind of feels like one.”
“Too many people died for this to be completely happy,” Julia pointed out. “Happy-ish, maybe.”
“I’ll take happy-ish.”
Something fell to the floor in the next room. Loudly. “Fuck,” Julia said. “That better not have been the cake.”