Who: Morag and Chance What: Finding themselves together again Where: Their house When: Saturday Morning Rating: PG for now Status: Closed/Incomplete.
Morag paced the floors in her home. It looked the same. The same ancient plaster, the same furnishings, everything was the same, but yet it wasn't. This wasn't the home she had when she died, but rather her home when well... she didn't want to think about it. She had seen his clothes there, his office still intact. It was fate's cruel reminder of her mistakes. She had not only been left a grieving widow when Chance died, but a fool. She had been so quick to believe the summons from the Wizengamot, to think he had cheated, because she hadn't been able to have another child after they lost their daughter. She had made him leave, but after two days she was weakening. She did love him. She was going to send an owl when she got home, but the news came too quickly that he had died, a freak accident.
She never forgave herself.
So she paced the floors, her heels clicking against the wood floors, her hand running over every picture frame, the knick knacks from trips they had taken, every inch of the house reminding her of him. She was about to give up, to sink into the chair with a glass of firewhiskey when she heard a noise. Was there someone else in the house?