Chapter 40 - Summer Returns

Praeris was kicked out of the office clutching a pile of books and several rolls of parchment, her exclusive summer homework, heavier than last year's.

Professor Snape must have swallowed several pounds of gunpowder. Every word came barbed. Praeris almost suspected the man was about to revoke her privilege of not returning to the convent for the summer.

Thankfully, he didn't. Praeris arrived at her loyal Diagon Alley.

"Praeris, I'm so glad to see you at a time like this," old Tom said from behind the counter, looking stricken. "When I heard what happened at Hogwarts — oh, I simply couldn't imagine what you'd do!"

"Much as I detest death, Tom, when the Reaper comes, none of us can refuse him. Pity — I'm still standing right here, tenacious as a cockroach." Praeris grinned. "So you ought to buy me a drink. Celebrate me arriving before you alive."

Heidi mercilessly tore down the ruse. "Tom, don't listen to her. The kid's angling for a free drink."

Praeris whipped her head around to face Diagon Alley's number-one fiction addict. "Heidi, you should build up some good karma. Otherwise the author you're chasing who's gone on hiatus will never suddenly discover the conscience he's locked away in a wooden chest."

"Alright, Tom, you see? I can't refuse this. I'll buy little Praeris a cider." Heidi looked horrified as she turned helplessly to Tom.

Cider is a distinctive English apple wine, alcohol content no higher than eight percent. When parents can't handle their kids clamoring to be grown-ups, this is the drink they use to placate them.

A large portion of Diagon Alley's customers are young witches and the witches who bring them out, so Tom brews his cider sweet, suited to the tastes of women and children.

Praeris was thoroughly satisfied. She savored a glass with care.

She planned to write about this in her letters to Millicent and Pansy Parkinson, telling them to come try some before school started.

Not long after, Miss Winnie arrived.

After hearing how Heidi got played, Miss Winnie laughed at her without mercy. "Heidi, how dare you provoke her? When Praeris wants something, there's no stopping her. When she wants a free drink, if you won't let Tom buy it, then you'll have to buy it yourself."

Heidi vowed to save face. "What do you know? I'm building up good karma!"

After chatting a while, Winnie and Praeris found a table to talk in private.

Miss Winnie twirled a golden curl around her finger. "Malfoy was trying to drive Dumbledore out at the Board of Governors. Then when the Ginny Weasley business happened, the governors invited Dumbledore right back."

Praeris was briefly taken aback, then quickly found it quite normal. Draco had been trumpeting all over Slytherin lately that the headmaster ought to be replaced with Professor Snape.

She had to admit it: her means of self-preservation and her pitiable mercy had, to some degree, damaged the interests of the Slytherin faction.

She sighed. "Power without force to back it is hollow. Slytherin's golden age has already passed."

The previous generation's Slytherin leader was gone. The Slytherin elite were all squatting in Azkaban. Only the allies Lucius Malfoy and Professor Snape remained.

Though Malfoy Senior's influence at the Ministry surpassed that of Dumbledore's faction's Weasley, Professor Snape could hardly contend with the world's most powerful white wizard.

Professor Snape was outstanding among his peers. But measured against Dumbledore, he was still too young.

Winnie nodded. "Unless Dumbledore is gone, Slytherin will hardly ever truly have the upper hand."

"And then there's Potter," Praeris said. "His performance in the Chamber of Secrets incident was excellent. Very talented, very courageous, and not lacking in wisdom either. His magical prowess still leaves something to be desired, but they say he pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor."

Winnie laughed. "You're a Slytherin, and here you are praising a Gryffindor?"

"And you're a Ravenclaw who detests Malfoy, here helping Slytherin think of a way out?" Praeris retorted.

Winnie couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing. "We should talk less politics between us. Come on, let's find somewhere to test your improved spell. Let the former First Examiner of the Experimental Charms Committee review your new spell."

"Winnie, you're that impressive!" Praeris trotted along behind her.

"You bet!" Winnie's proud voice drifted away on the wind.

When it was nearly dark, Winnie strode over and shoved open Madam Plime's door, announcing with righteous confidence, "Plime, I'm dying of thirst — quick, quick, quick!"

She snatched a cup from the table and poured its contents down her throat.

Praeris, sharp-eyed, spotted the cartoonish big head of Madam Plime painted on the cup and signaled to the lady.

Madam Plime had clearly seen it too. She shook her head, her face full of helplessness. "Darling, why are you back so late?"

It seemed the free First Examiner's habit of rampaging everywhere had completely smashed through Madam Plime's principles.

"I really want to go teach at Hogwarts!" Winnie sprawled carelessly on the sofa, kicking off her boots. "Teaching Praeris feels so good!"

Praeris blinked and tilted her head. "No, you don't."

Hogwarts had not only clever students like Praeris and Granger, but also students like Marcus and Longbottom, who had nine out of ten apertures open.

Madam Plime walked to the door and flipped the sign that Winnie had knocked askew back to the "Closed" side. "Dear little Praeris, you're right. Look — Hogwarts hasn't had a single peaceful year these past two. It always gives me a sense of foreboding."

Winnie stretched out on the sofa. "I was just saying, that's all. Hogwarts teachers are all bachelors and divorcees. I'm not going to Hogwarts."

She propped herself up on her arms, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. "Is this some kind of Hogwarts curse? Once you become a professor, no spouse."

Praeris couldn't help laughing. "The teachers can't stand hearing that kind of talk."

"Darling, when are you coming to work?" Madam Plime steered the topic back to serious matters.

Praeris said, "Tomorrow works."

"No working this Sunday!" Winnie sat up. "Little Praeris, do you want to go to London this weekend? I want to take you to see my place. We can stroll through Muggle shopping streets together. I want to buy new jewelry too!"

The London she meant was the London city center in the Muggle world.

What's in London? Tulip Street.

Praeris smiled and nodded. "Didn't you already say no working on Sunday? Then I have no choice but to help you carry your bags."

She always had to walk out of the convent's snowy nights, walk to distant places, walk into a brand-new spring, walk into a warm and brilliant summer.

Madam Plime was organizing her bottles and jars. Hearing this, she bent down, fished out a small pouch from under the counter, and noisily stuffed things into it.

WHOOSH, THWACK!

The pouch landed on the table in front of Praeris. "In that case, I have no choice but to hire dear little Praeris as Winnie's attendant. Otherwise, I really fear Winnie will be crushed by the things she buys."

"This — I can't..."

"Please!" Madam Plime said it very softly. "Do take good care of Winnie!"

Winnie said loudly, "Please! I'm going home, not, fine, Lord Prince, please, you must take care of me!"

Praeris yielded under Madam Plime's gentle gaze.

In Diagon Alley, there was never a moment of unhappiness.

On workdays, Madam Plime opened the shop only in the evening.

Praeris had the entire daytime to study, write letters, eat, run from one end of Diagon Alley to the other, and lie on a reclining chair hugging a book, watching time slip from the cold drink shop's potted plants to beneath the eaves.

Mr. Florin was very fond of children. At Praeris's request, he froze milk into blocks of ice, scraped out a big bowl of shaved ice, and let her scoop it up with a large spoon.

While the child was on summer vacation, Miss Winnie, a freelance writer, gave herself a summer vacation too.

On rest days, Madam Plime kept the shop open all day. Praeris would prepare potions and read in the shop, bantering with Miss Winnie to pass the time.

Miss Winnie was a very talented witch, but truly childish.

She had her own cup, a super, super large skull mug, especially heavy. Praeris felt it was less a cup and more a vat.

So this lazybones often couldn't be bothered to fetch her own vat and would just pick up whatever cup she saw on the counter and drink from it.

Madam Plime specially prepared a small cup for Winnie, but more than once Winnie couldn't remember which cup was hers. And so Madam Plime added a cup-washing step before and after drinking.

After learning that Florin had scraped a whole basin of shaved ice for Praeris, this overgrown child carried her giant skull over to beg food from Florin.

Mr. Florin said tactfully, "If you'd come begging for food fifteen or twenty years ago, I wouldn't say a word even if you came every day. But now I'm going to go to the door and call for Purnell."

Florin's tone was like: Dead kid, I'm telling your guardian on you!

The next day, Winnie sat on the cold drink shop's doorstep with her giant skull filled with a huge basin of iced watermelon, crunching away loudly and running her mouth.

Mr. Florin and Madam Plime, who had bought her the watermelon, each covered their faces and sighed.

Diagon Alley at night wasn't desolate either. The streets were thronged with people.

Sometimes Praeris would inexplicably spread her arms wide on the street. The summer wind whooshed past, so comfortable, billowing her robes.

Sometimes she also ran to the rooftop terrace of the Leaky Cauldron, lying on a reclining chair to gaze at the stars, using what Professor Sinistra had taught in Astronomy class to identify this star, that constellation.

She saw Scorpius, Sagittarius, and the brightest star due north in the sky, that was her name, Polaris.

Praeris couldn't help wondering: was it possible that thirteen years ago, Sylvia Prince had looked up at the sky like this and decided to make this brightest northern star her daughter's name?

Did she hold special expectations for her, expecting her to shine as brightly as Polaris?

No matter how people and things change, Polaris remains there forever, shining alone.

After thirteen years, Praeris Prince, this lonely child, was gazing at the same sky as the mother she had never met, in this eternal starlight.

Sunday morning, Praeris sat on the first floor of the Leaky Cauldron eating breakfast.

Tom had made her oatmeal. Though it was just a bowl of oatmeal, old Tom had tucked two eggs into it, making it somewhat excessively nutritious.

Who could blame him? Praeris was shooting up in height. They'd thought she might finally put on some flesh, but now she was a bamboo pole again.

Winnie flung Floo powder into the fire, recited the house number of her home in London city center, and vanished in the flames.

Praeris had never used Floo powder, but she had read about it in books, and now she had Winnie's demonstration. She thought to herself: as long as I enunciate clearly, have a clear target, and loudly call out the destination, it should be fine.

Soon, with a blink, she found herself in an unfamiliar house.

Winnie's home was quite large. She took Praeris on a tour, kitchen, toilet, bathroom, balcony, plus one bedroom, one walk-in closet, one storage room, one living room.

"When I was little, I thought, even living alone, I'd want two rooms. One for my treasures, one for me. Now I have three rooms, exceeding the target!" Winnie said happily.

Praeris said, "May I take a look?"

"Of course!"

Winnie opened the storage room and pulled something off a shelf.

It was a sunflower. The sunflower's head bore no seeds, only a photo of Winnie at about twenty years old.

Winnie tapped the sunflower, and it actually began to sway from side to side, making strange sounds: "Winnie Brown, get to work! Winnie Brown, get to work!"

Winnie doubled over laughing. It was a while before she said, "This was made by my former colleagues at the Ministry. Fun, isn't it? Back when I worked at the Ministry, my review speed was especially fast, so I often had nothing to do, poking around here and there. Sometimes when tasks came in, I easily missed them. So they made this."

"But I think missing them didn't really matter, I could finish the tasks faster than them anyway. If you ask me, slacking off is how you make money. Working and getting paid, that's just what I'm owed."

"Oh, right!"

Winnie stood on tiptoe again, rummaging here and there, and soon pulled out two palm-sized stones. Except, no matter how you looked at them, these stones looked exactly like two buttocks.

"I use them to hold my wand, like this!"

The two "buttocks" were placed on either side, the concave grooves in their middles aligned into a straight line. The wand rested, tip and tail settled in the two grooves, perfectly stable.

Praeris watched as this former First Charms Examiner pulled one increasingly abstract object after another out of her "treasure chest."

Praeris began to suspect that Lucius Malfoy's dislike of Winnie might not be because of her fall from grace, but because this person was inherently absurd.

Even if Winnie were still working at the Ministry, even if she were still the First Charms Examiner, Lucius Malfoy might not be able to accept such an unorthodox witch appearing before him.

Winnie had accumulated far too much little junk, and she was eager to show each piece to Praeris. By the time they sat down on the sofa, it was already noon.

➤ Next: A Willing Surrender