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72.34% HP: The Otherworlder / Chapter 67: CH67 - Reunited

Chapter 67: CH67 - Reunited

The sun's rays shone harshly on Edmund's face, unobstructed in their path due to the cloudless sky. His eyes squinted as he turned his face downwards, angling the baseball cap on his head to better protect him from the direct light.

The wooden bench underneath him creaked due to his movements, but the yells of the hawkers and peddlers on either side of him drowned out its sounds.

Edmund and Jeremy were sitting together by the entrance of Diagon Alley, perpendicular to the brick wall that separated the magical marketplace from the Leaky Cauldron.

The area was bustling, far more than what was typical for the summer holidays. Its unusual business, Edmund decided, could only be attributed to the very same sun that was relentlessly beating down upon the waiting duo.

The English summer was much like its winter: filled with rain, rain, and more rain. Although the temperature rose during the middling months of the year, the forecast tended to remain consistent. And so, when the first week of July 1994 unexpectedly brought a spell of good weather with it, everyone was excited to make the most of it.

Like many other Londoners, however, Edmund had been caught flat-footed in the face of the foreign situation in more ways than one.

First, his already limited wardrobe had proved not to be suitable for the heat in the slightest. It was for this reason that he was now wearing jean shorts with tears at the knees where they had been magically altered and a thin t-shirt he usually reserved as nightwear. The mismatched outfit was completed with a pair of dad sandals he had been lent by Albert, his shoe size too big to borrow anything of Jeremy's.

Secondly, and more irritatingly, he had discovered that his pale skin simply did not tan. It only burned. Although he had bronzed a bit over the past week, it was interspersed with sections of fresh, pink skin that had needed to be regrown due to sunburn. If it were not for the tanning solution Cynthia had handed him with a teasing smirk, the patchwork appearance of his skin would have made him look like a freshly reanimated inferi.

Tapping his foot to the beat of a song playing on the wireless, Edmund found himself scanning his surroundings out of habit.

"Morning, Edmund!" an old man hollered from afar as he leaned on his cane.

"Good morning to you as well, Mr. Underhill! How's the ankle treating you?" Edmund inquired.

*-*-*-*

"How are you, hijo? No work today?" a grizzled-looking man sipping a bottle of iced water asked.

"Doing well, Sr. Sanchez! I'm free today, but I wouldn't mind being inside right now, honestly," Edmund laughed.

*-*-*-*

"Edmund! What's up?" a sweat-soaked girl with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder wheezed.

"Eh. The usual," he shrugged. "How about you, Sarah? Dance practice again today?"

*-*-*-*

As he said hello to yet another person on the street, Edmund smiled to himself contentedly.

The Knight Bus was a service first established in magical Britain in the 1860s by then Minister for Magic, Dugald McPhail. At the time, its invention was a highly controversial topic, considered by many to be far too muggle in its design. Slowly, however, the sheer convenience it provided won over much of the populace. There were many witches and wizards who were either too young, too old, or too unskilled to use alternative modes of transport. That was not to mention the numerous occasions where flooing, flying, or apparating was either impossible or unfeasible.

Its popularity meant that Edmund met many new people every day, and with his memory, he remembered each one of them vividly. This trait, combined with his kind demeanour, had ingratiated him with many of the regulars on the bus, causing his reputation to soar quickly.

"Well, well, well…" a sarcastic voice cut into his internal monologue. "Look who's Mr. Popular."

Edmund turned his head to see Cecilia standing a couple of feet away, her hands crossed over her chest, a grin on her face. Ben stood adjacent to her, also with a slight upturn of his lips.

"At this rate, he's gonna replace us in no time," Ben chortled.

"No way, bro. You haven't seen the people who come up to him half the time. Most of them are just grannies over the age of a hundred who wanna grab his cheeks and squeeze them," Jeremy denied. He paused for a second before coughing. "Both the upper and the lower ones, if you know what I mean. Not exactly the type of ladies he wants to be popular with. At least, I don't think so."

"Hi! Nice to see you, too. Yes, I've had a great couple of weeks away from Hogwarts; thanks for asking! How about you?" Edmund retorted.

"Ahhh, whatever," Jeremy pshawed as he moved to hug the two newly arrived members of their group. "No need to be a drama queen."

"Yeah, don't be a drama queen, Edmund," Ben echoed, his tone purposefully obnoxious.

Edmund rolled his eyes, huffing at his friends' antics.

Still, Ben patted his back enthusiastically when Edmund went to meet him.

Cecilia, however…

Cecilia's smile was stilted, despite her best efforts to mask it. He shot her a concerned glance but only got an uneasy grimace back.

"Have you guys already made plans?" Ben asked, unaware of the subtle byplay that he had just interrupted.

Jeremy did not waste a second to start babbling out a reply, and then the moment was gone.

Despite the underlying tension, the foursome still managed to have a blast on their day out. Each of them had gotten so used to seeing each other every day that being reunited after several weeks apart was exciting in and of itself.

At Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, they examined the simultaneously fascinating and horrifying ingredients the eccentric shopkeepers liked to have on display.

On a table in the Leaky Cauldron, they played beer pong with butterbeer, Edmund handily winning against the other three without missing a single shot.

In Madam Malkin's, Jeremy did an impromptu catwalk as he modelled tens of outfits, each more outrageous than the last. Even the shop assistants joined in on the fun, hooting and cheering each time the curtains to his changing room opened.

By sunset, they had practically toured the entire alley, leaving no shop untouched. To end the day, they decided it was only fitting to grab an ice cream at Fortescue's, knowing how rare it was to get a chance to enjoy it together.

After relaying their orders to the other two, Edmund and Cecilia were tasked with finding an empty table for them, which they were luckily able to do relatively quickly.

"Spill," Edmund said firmly as soon as he was able to erect a privacy ward around their location sneakily. "Something's on your mind, and I can tell it's bothering you."

Cecilia hesitated, before she finally sighed in acceptance.

"It's this…" she said softly, although her voice was slowly infused with a feral tone. "This Marvolo Slytherin! His act might fool others, but we Burkes know better!"

'Oh,' Edmund realized.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle dies, and Marvolo Slytherin is the new Lord of the house a decade later? Coincidence? I think not," she hissed angrily with rising momentum. "He's back, and the entire world is just watching the spectacle! Instead of being hunted down, he's being invited for interviews! Instead of being arrested, he's becoming the head of the majority party of the Wizengamot! Has the whole world gone mad, or have I?"

Edmund clutched her hand, silently willing her to calm down.

Her panicked panting slowed, but her frustration and fear remained. "You won't believe how difficult it was for me to convince my family to let me come here today. Dad and grandma have become paranoid, already closing down all the entries and exits of the manor. The war wards have been activated, and all non-essential trips to the outside have been cancelled."

Edmund suppressed his own self-loathing, knowing that now was not the time to wallow about the fact that he had to withhold the truth from her. Right now, she needed his support, not his misery.

"Things will work out," he promised. "You'll see. I won't let anything happen to you."

Cecilia snorted, though her heart was not in it. "And what are you going to do? Stop the dark lord all on your lonesome?"

Despite her defeatist attitude, Edmund could tell she was feeling better from the unclenching of her jaw and relaxed grip on his hand.

'Who knows,' he thought humourlessly. 'I just might have to.'


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
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If you have any thoughts, or things you would like to see happen in the story, please share!

As you may have noticed, my diction is decent, while my syntax is awful. Please do not hesitate to point out any mistakes I make with a paragraph comment or a general chapter comment!

Thank you for reading!

next chapter

Chapter 68: CH68 - Smoke and Mirrors

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, the easiest, most efficient and reliable way to travel! Eleven sickles will be your fare as always, but thirteen will get you a cup of hot chocolate, and fifteen, a toothbrush in the colour of your choice as well!" Edmund enthusiastically greeted.

Passengers jumped on and off in a rush, akin to a never-ending stream. The sun reached its apex, yet Edmund's words remained the same as they always were.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, the easiest..." he echoed, his words slightly strained.

Riders he had dropped off to work returned to their homes again, yet Edmund's hours did not end.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, the easiest..." he stated blankly, his voice wholly bland and monotonous.

The London nightlife began to show its colours, bright neon lights piercing through the descending veil of darkness. Pubs unshuttered, and alcohol began to flow as people laughed and made merry.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, the easiest..." Edmund bit out, doing his best not to let his bitterness be transparent.

As the triple-decker purple monstrosity let off the last passenger within it at the moment, Edmund sighed in tiredness as he sank into a vacant seat. Typically, there was never a time when the coach was empty during working hours. As such, the moment he was experiencing now was a rarity.

Rolling his ankles to alleviate their growing stiffness, he reflected on his last few weeks as an employee on the Knight Bus.

Edmund had received a lot of training during the period, but not the kind he had anticipated. Sure, his balance and footing were likely within the one percent of the one percent by now, but that was about it. Unfortunately, the runes and spatial magic that helped the automobile function were still just as much of a mystery to him as before he began. His persistence and inquisitiveness had managed to get him access to the location where the Knight Bus was serviced. Still, he had only been able to catch a glimpse at the undercarriage before he was firmly escorted out.

'Oh well,' he thought casually. 'Things haven't gone according to plan. What's new?

The sliding doors leading to the outside opened with a hiss, and Edmund took it as his cue to straighten himself out and plaster on a smile.

The older man that entered was inconspicuous in most ways, yet something about him made him stand out. His clothes were non-branded, yet Edmund could tell from their material and thread count that they were as expensive as could be. His actions were slow and laboured, but his hand moved like lightning as it reached out to grab a handhold when the bus began moving. His eyes seemed gentle, save for the cold steel that appeared to be lurking just underneath.

With long white hair parted on the right side of his scalp that fell to his shoulders, pale leathery skin, and a slight smile on his lips, the man exhaled deeply as he fell onto one of the many unoccupied beds.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, the easiest..." Edmund repeated his spiel without a second thought. "Where to, sir?"

"Where to?" the man murmured in confusion before his expression lit up. "Ah, I'm afraid you have me mistaken, young man. I have no desire to go anywhere. I merely wished to get out of the house and roam around a bit instead of being shut inside all day. You don't mind me tagging along, do you?"

'And your best idea was to hop onto the Knight Bus, of all things,' Edmund thought incredulously.

Externally, though, his warmness did not falter. "I can understand that. However, I'll have to check with the driver to see if that's alright. Is that okay?"

The man gave a singular sharp nod, turning his head to look at the rapidly passing scenery.

As expected, Stan was downright confused, while Ernie only looked wary. Eventually, the two relented, not seeing any harm in letting the man hang around.

"Any particular reason you're here on your lonesome today?" Edmund tried to make small talk after several minutes had passed.

"My wife passed away recently, I'm afraid," he replied without hesitation.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Edmund consoled sympathetically. "Did you love her very much?"

"Love?" the man seemed to consider. "It doesn't really matter whether I loved her. She had been with me so long. She was such an integral part of my every waking moment. The loss of any constant like that in life is debilitating. Though, I suppose affection dictates how much that's the case... Oh, look at me rambling away instead of just answering the question. Yes. I did love her very much indeed."

"How are others in your life handling the loss? Have you got any kids to help you adjust a little bit?" Edmund queried.

"Not for... Not for a long, long time. All of them are dead as well," the man whispered solemnly as he rubbed his hands together.

"Sorry," Edmund grimaced. "No parent should have to do that."

"I could not agree more," the stranger breathed quietly. "What about you?"

"Hmmm?" Edmund turned up his eyebrows.

"Any family of your own?" the man's tone became strangely curious.

"No," Edmund shrugged. "I'm an orphan. I always have been. I don't remember anything about my parents."

"Sorry for asking," he bowed, though the gleam in his eyes contradicted his apologetic nature.

"That's alright," Edmund dismissed, but his hand palmed his wand in preparation to jump into action at any moment.

"I've always wondered what a muggleborn's discovery of magic must feel like." the man suddenly segued. "Is there a feeling of awe, or... is it just a confirmation of something they already believed to be true?"

"Well, I was certainly surprised by the truth," Edmund fibbed with a straight face. "Before McGonagall showed up, magic meant nothing other than fancy parlour tricks."

"Is that so?" his eyes narrowed, causing countless other wrinkles to crop up around his orbital socket.

"Yes," Edmund lied, daring the man to contradict him.

However, instead of escalating the situation, he backed off immediately. "Interesting..."

Rummaging around his coat pocket, the silver-haired stranger retrieved a small card from within it, placing it on the bed next to him.

"In case you ever wish to contact me in the future," he explained before pulling the chain to signal his intention to get off.

Even as the man faded away into the distance on a prominent farmstead in Devon, Edmund's pupils remained fixed on him. Only after multiple kilometres of distance was between them did he pay attention to what he had left behind.

Refusing to interact with the object until he thoroughly examined it, Edmund studied it from afar. An ornately decorated 'F' was all that was visible, penned in flowing cursive font.

"How very peculiar," Edmund decided as his mind raced with the implications of what had just occurred.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
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If you have any thoughts, or things you would like to see happen in the story, please share!

As you may have noticed, my diction is decent, while my syntax is awful. Please do not hesitate to point out any mistakes I make with a paragraph comment or a general chapter comment!

Thank you for reading!

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