• Title – I Open at the Close • Author name – Vazy • Rating - PG-13 • Disclaimer – I neither own any the Scooby gang or the Harry Potter characters. That pleasure belongs to Joss Whedon and J. K. Rowling • Feedback- I crave feedback as much as the Twins crave humour. • Summary- With the wizarding world in dark times as He-who-must-not-be-named causes mass devastation, happiness still manages to bloom. The story of Willow Evans and her family's lives in the middle of a war. • My beloved Trouble, beta'd this for as per usual. So around of snuggles for her. • It's been nearly a year since this was updated. And to celebrate the start of my second university year today, have the next installment.
Chapter 9
Willow tugged impatiently on Tara’s hand, bouncing on the balls of her feet; her eyes were darting between the other witch, and down the hallway into the bowels of the hospital. Finally deciding to settle her gaze down the hallway; towards where their friend lay. Making a low noise in the back of her throat, she gave a harder pull on the hand she had kept possession of.
In response Tara removed her hand from the tightening grip, but kept her main focus on the chart, scanning for what room Frank was in. For a moment Willow’s hand hovered, threatening to take the lost appendage back, but in the end she let her own fall limply to her side. The redhead was practically vibrating with the need to be gone from the front desk and doing something.
“Tara…” She whined, hands moving to fiddle with a loose thread on her sleeve. Tara hummed in acknowledgement. Willow frowned at the lack of a better response, foregoing asking again she decided to poke Tara’s arm to get her attention instead.
Tara withheld a sigh, debating whether or not she should answer her impatient flatmate. With a roll of her eyes she decided that it was better to pay Willow the attention she was seeking, rather than continue ignoring her and continue to be pestered.
“Yes Willow?” She asked not looking up, tracking her finger as it moved down the list of ‘K’ patients into the ‘L’s.
“Tara, you said we could see him right away, what’s taking so long? Is he okay?” The panic in Willow’s voice rose, and Tara guessed she was about to work herself into a full on babble of questions. Tara could forgive her for the silly questions; Willow was stressed about her part in Frank’s injury, and was still fairly rattled from her own injuries. Tara’s finger finally came to rest on ‘Longbottom, Frank’.
“Because, Will, we have no idea where he is and I wanted to check his report first,” Tara looked up and smiled warmly “And I’ve got him. Floor 4, Wing 2; room 309B.” Tara added quickly before Willow ended up tearing off in the wrong direction. Willow beamed, bouncing one final time, and set off for the lift. With a roll of her eyes, Tara followed.
“I kind of guessed he’d be up there anyway.” Willow muttered to her as the doors pinged merrily and slid open. Tara frowned, looking over at the younger witch. Willow laughed at the look of confusion painted across her face, “Tare, I spend far too much time here. Between you and when I trip over my own feet onto our bad guys.” Tara chuckled too, remembering when Willow had first become an Auror and ended up tripping into the wizard the team had been trying to catch, sending both of them head over heels onto the mossy floor of the woods they’d been chasing him through,
“Not to mention I wasn’t that out of it last time I was here.” Tara raised her eyebrows mockingly; in return Willow stuck her tongue out.
Over the top of their teasing the lift scraped to a halt, a friendly voice announcing their arrival at ‘Third Floor - Potions and Plant Poisoning: Exit for rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, and more.’ Willow’s glanced at the ceiling before chuckling to herself, Tara nudged the other witch with an elbow.
“Hush, people will think you need help for uncontrollable giggling. What joke am I m-missing?” Tara teased. Willow grinned, reflexively rubbing her arm from the elbow nudge, before gesturing to the ceiling.
“I always laugh when she talks, they use the same woman at the ministry, and it must be such a strange job.” Willow explained, her nose scrunching up adorably distracting Tara from a reply.
Before she could snap out of her daydream, she was tugged unceremoniously from the lift, the pleasant voice of the witch announcing the new floor following them down the hallway.
Tara stumbled slightly after Willow unable to find her balance and keep pace at the same time, the other woman was oblivious to her troubles as she swanned down the hall. It was only when she reached an intersection that she paused, unsure of the next direction.
Finally allowed to get her footing, Tara straightened her shirt and took the final step needed to draw level with her flatmate.
“What room-?” Willow started to ask before Tara’s hand appeared in front of her face, directing their journey left. Willow shot a smile at the blonde before setting off at a slower pace than before, allowing Tara to point them in the right direction.
The sound of a tinkling laugh melding with a deep bass one floated down the corridor and Willow tensed, swirling to fix Tara with a pleading gaze. Laughing herself Tara nodded, Willow beamed before tearing off down the corridor towards the only open door on the passage. Boots squeaking on the polished floor Willow darted into the room, Tara seeing only a flash of red and the snapping of tanned coat tails.
Willow skidded to an abrupt halt as two pairs of eyes swivelled round to her, both soft and welcoming.
“Willow! You made it.” Frank beamed from his place propped up on pillows, to his right his wife Alice smiled just as welcomingly. Willow sighed in relief at the sight of an alert Frank.
“Like I was going to miss out on seeing my favourite married couple, but don’t tell Lil I said that,” Willow chirped before her eyes darted down “Can I...?” She asked hand waving towards the bed. Frank laughed again at the young woman’s hesitance, squeezing Alice’s hand that he had a hold of, he nodded. Bouncing to perch on the end of the bed, Willow opened her mouth to ask a question but was cut off by a light rapping on the door and Tara’s head popping round. Alice stood up quickly, eyes worried.
“Healer Maclay, is everything…?” She asked her free hand moving to pluck at the cheap blanket spread across Frank’s bed. Tara waved down the question. “E-everything’s fine Ally, just being polite, I’m off duty anyway.” Tara smiled moving into the starkly light room. Alice relaxed slumping back into her seat, grinning softly at the blonde.
“Sorry Tara, I panicked. Still a little jumpy, but it comes with the territory I guess.” The older woman chuckled weakly, Frank stroked her arm comfortingly. Willow in return looked torn between amusement and sorrow, Tara raised a questioning eyebrow at the peculiar look on the other woman’s face.
“I’ll never get used to the ‘Healer Maclay’, let alone our friends calling you that.” Willow offered answer for the less explainable feeling.
“And to think, all those times I’ve helped patch you up. Lucky I am qualified.” Tara shook her head in mock-disapproval and moved to stand at the foot of the bed, sneaking a glance at the chart present. The notes there would give more information than the brief summary on the reception paperwork had. Everything written there seemed to look fine, vitals, brain activity and no lasting spell damage had occurred, signaling that Frank would be released with a day or so. It was a relief that things were taking a turn back to the chaotic normal the order members seemed to have found of late.
Smiling, she then turned her attention to the story Alice was telling about the auror offices without the pair present, only catching the end that seemed to describe how Moody’s eye had been spinning so much it nearly popped out. Willow then launched into her theory on the top speed that the older auror’s eye could reach and how it didn’t give him a headache.
The sound of the married couple’s laughter melting into one another’s was calming, it was clear that the pair were perfect for each other. Frank’s goofiness and old fashioned gentlemanly ways fit well with Alice’s timidness and surprisingly enough, when one knew the small witch, dry sense of humour. From the moment Tara had met them at her first order meeting she’d understood it. Imagining one without the other was like salt without pepper.
The idea that love still managed to blossom despite the pure chaos the wizarding world had been thrown into with the Dark lord’s power trip made Tara happy. It was proven through the Longbottom’s as well as the Weasley’s and their gaggle of small redheads that happiness and love existed in the world still.
The war itself had been teetering on the precipice for several years but had only come fully to the surface with the brutal, and more frequently occurring, slaughter of muggles up and down the country before an attempt on the ministry had bought it through the door with a loud bang.
It was horrid to think of the loss of muggle life that had occurred not being taken seriously until the threat on the ministry of magic had occurred. Tara herself had always been exposed to the non-magical world, despite her pureblood background. Her mother had made sure of it, making it clear that Tara’s magic made her no more special than Donnie’s lack of it. She’d gone to school with Willow, who despite all her brains sometimes struggled to cover up her muggle roots. It’d never bothered her though; they were people, all the same as her, whether the had the ability to turn cups into rats or not. But she knew most wizards saw it differently, likening them to animals, and those born from them with magical ability polluted with dirty blood.
Even without the influence of her upbringing Tara just had to turn to the Rosenberg sister’s to see how wrong that line of thinking was. You could look at Lily’s fierce loyalty and sharp tongue, or Willow with that amazing brain and kindness, and know they had just as much right to be acknowledged as anyone else.
As she thought, her gaze drifted to the muggle born witch, taking in her profile as she chattered. Willow’s pale skin had taken on an ethereal glow under the lights and her hair stood out as a fiery red against it. In front of her, her hands darted around to emphasis whatever point she was making in the story she’d launched into. Tuning in to half listen to her flatmate Tara, summarized it to be about the Weasley boys that Willow had been babysitting the past week, and the fun they’d had. Tara phased out again; she’d heard all of Willow’s stories several times over the past week, as the red head gushed over the children. Instead she focused on Willow’s tone of voice, Tara found it hard to describe; no one else ever seemed as animated or bubbly as Willow did when she talked, the only way Tara could describe her voice was just Willowy.
Tara continued to stare at the other woman, trying to drink in all of her. After a few minutes she noticed Alice scrutinizing her carefully, from the small rickety chair next to the bed. When Alice realized she didn’t turn away, just raised both eyebrows and smiled slyly. Tara swiftly focused on the wall above the older witches head, fighting back a blush.
She had it bad for Willow and wasn’t hiding it well; internally sighing to herself, Tara attempted to rein her wayward thoughts in, or at least make her ogling less obvious.
***
Willow lay on her stomach on the sofa twirling her finger round the phone’s cable. The apartment was warm from the fire that Tara had charmed, before she’d left earlier in the afternoon to go see her Mum and help with the shop’s afternoon rush, in the hopes of keeping the chill out of the apartment that was setting in due to the approach of winter.
The blue flames danced merrily creating flickering patterns along the walls, the only light source besides the small lamp next to the phone and the dying sun peeking through the curtain gap. They’ll be turning the streetlights on soon Willow thought absently. The flickering combined with the heat made Willow sleepy and lethargic. Propping her chin up on her free hand she clutched the phone to her ear with her shoulder.
“Mmmmm, Lil that sounds ace. Uh huh.” Willow hummed as her little sister babbled on about the party that had been planned for Tara and Sirius’ party that had just ended up as a Halloween party as well. Lily had rung over an hour previously and had since been talking about food, decorations and whether or not there should be games. Willow barely needed to talk, just listen to her sister argue with herself on the other end of the line.
This was one of the reasons the Rosenberg sisters preferred the creature comfort of the phone. Tara had been puzzled by the request originally, not understanding why they’d choose to use a phone rather than the floo network but had agreed. It had been better than James who’d down right refused at first, which Willow still chalked up to fear of the muggle government spying on his home. But, as always, Lily had won her husband, then boyfriend, over. The pair of muggle born witches enjoyed some of the muggle aspects in life, reminding them of their roots. They had often fallen asleep on the phone line listening to the other breathing at the other end, Willow claimed it reminded her of being little and Lily crawling into her bed.
In the quiet Willow’s head lolled back against the sofa back abandoning leaning on her hand. Yawning deeply into the cushions, Willow heard her jaw crackle unpleasantly. In her foggy brain she heard Lily say something about butterbeer. Yawning again she rubbed sleepily at her eyes with her palm. All the plans for Tara’s party were exciting but Willow couldn’t help wishing the pair of them could just skip it and stay in their cozy little flat away from the world and their responsibilities.
In her haze of tiredness she failed to realize that her sister was calling her name. The jarring sound of her name being shouted down the phone line caused her to jolt dropping the phone with a clatter. Swearing under her breath Willow scrabbled to retrieve the phone, and by default her sister, from where it’d fallen to the floor.
“Lil? You still there? Sorry, I dozed off. Yes, yeah. I think Tara’ll love it, why are you even asking? You know her nearly as well as me.” Willow pushed herself up to sit curled against the sofa’s arm and continue against her battle of heavy eyes.
***
With the loss of light the Charm shop had emptied out quickly and shut just as quickly. In these times it wasn’t best to linger about, especially after dark. Things lurked out there in the dark that were enough to scare hardened aurors.
Tara leaned against the counter as she watched her mother work. It was something she’d always found soothing, distracting her from her chaotic thoughts. A pinch of this, a dash of that. Her Mum always knew exactly what was needed for each charm. Teresa Maclay moved gracefully around the store in a swirl of soft blonde hair and deep purple robes, the smattering of stars across the surface glinting gold in the shop’s lights.
“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” Teresa smiled at her youngest, as she selected the correct jar for her protection charm. She smiled softly at the look of mild shock that crossed her daughter’s face. Placing the jar on the counter next to Tara’s elbow, she moved to cup her face in one hand. “I know something is up sweetie, because I’m your mother and I can always tell when something’s wrong with my children. No matter how old you are.” The two shared a smile before Teresa returned to her work.
With a grimace Tara moved to study the worn star chart that adorned the wall next to the shop’s till. “It’s just, well, I’ve realized something,” Tara began, running her nail absent-mindedly along the grain of the wooden surface, eyes still fixed on the constellations on the wall, searching for the right words. Steeling herself Tara finally glanced round to look at her mother. “Mama, I really like Willow.”
Tara’d been expecting at least a shocked reaction from Teresa, but the one she received instead was knowing and not at all surprised.
“Tara, sweetie, I don’t mean to be rude, but anyone with eyes could see that.” Teresa smirked at the young witch; despite this easy acceptance she received a grimace and a huff of annoyance for her troubles.
“I-I’m really sick of people saying that Mama. Me and Willow have always just been friends. She’s just always been Willow. My best, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.” Eyebrows scrunched together, Tara’s hand was on the counter top curled into a fist.
“That’s just the point Honey. She’s always been just your Willow, and you’ve always been her Tara. No matter how you look at it, the pair of you fit. The only problem is, however, have you told her how you’re feeling?”
_________________ And all my life, I looked for you For arms that I could fall into - With You Around, YellowCard
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