Monachopsis • Harry Potter • Book II

.1.

TW: Ableist language

Finchley Park was a pretty little place with bright willows that swished in the wind and several dogs everywhere. It had wooden fences and bordered both a council estate and a primary school and it's only a few streets away from the high street.

Keziah Potter and her brother Harry were currently hanging around the children's playground. Most of the parents gave them dirty looks but it wasn't anything new in Surrey where anyone who didn't have pasty skin and blue eyes was seen as suspicious. Keziah had wanted to shout rude things at them, but Harry pulled her away.

Currently, she sat reading one of her textbooks, her cane resting against her leg, playing with some folded paper in her free hand while Harry messed around on the swing set.

"Who are we waiting for again?" Harry asked.

"I've told you a hundred times already," said Keziah. "Remus Lupin. He was friends with our dad. I wrote him a letter last summer and he finally replied."

"And we're meeting up with him?" Harry said, sounding vaguely excited. "Do you think he'd want to see us, anyway? It's not like our existence is a secret. He could've found us anytime if he needed to. He won't show up."

"He will," Keziah hummed.

It had been nearly two weeks since Keziah had opened the letter from Remus. She'd read the scratchy words with quivering excitement, in the safety of her bedroom away from the Dursely's prying eyes. Keziah had been shocked Vernon hadn't opened it but she wasn't going to complain. It hadn't been a very long letter either, which she would complain about.

Dear Keziah,

I apologise for taking so long to reply to your letter. I was one of your parents' close friends but that was a long time and I am afraid to say that I left that part of me behind a long time ago.

I read in the Daily Prophet that you and Harry solved the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and I can't say I'm too surprised. You have your parents' spirit (although I could tell that from your first letter).

I hope you have a lovely summer,

Remus Lupin.'

Keziah had read the letter and promptly chucked it into the wastepaper bin. She hadn't waited an entire bloody year to get such a pathetic reply in turn.

Immediately she'd sent back a reply, demanding that she could meet one of her 'parents' closest friends.' And this time, he hadn't waited three hundred and sixty-five days to contact her.

A temperamental brown owl arrived at her window three days later with a scroll clasped in its beak and now Keziah and Harry waited in a children's playground for a man they'd never even seen.

"How will we even know it's him?" asked Harry, jumping off the swing and landing particularly hard. He'd been sour ever since the Chamber of Secrets and finding out Keziah had been in contact with somebody who knew their parents hadn't helped. "What if he's a creep?"

"I guess we just have to hope he isn't a murderer," she shrugged. "A potential hobo approaching two kids... somebody will be watching us."

"If you're sure..."

"Which I am."

Harry and Keziah Potter looked very similar and completely different at the same time.

They were both gangly creatures but Harry was just about a head taller than Keziah; the receipt of the growth spurt he'd hit during Spring. His hair was so dark it was nearly black and his green eyes contrasted his brown skin. A white scar stretched out across his forehead like a bolt of lightning.