Chapter One

The next few weeks passed in a similar fashion to most. With the exception of the odd distraction - and a particular distraction as well, Emily worked most of the time, only stopping long enough to refuel and re-energise between shifts. With the gradual changes in the Ministry, and the catastrophes that were taking place, Emily found herself rising earlier than usual and turning in later – nothing she couldn't handle. Her sleep had been effected, sure, but it was only in part due to being run off her feet. The Ministry wasn't the only thing undergoing a transformation, she too was changing, slowly, day by day and this too kept her up at night. It was so subtle that she doubted anyone would notice but her, it was intrinsic and something nobody would be able to see let alone feel.

“Emily!” came a familiar and enthusiastic voice. Emily grinned, “Zeke!” she greeted back, mirroring his enthusiasm though she lacked his childish flare. The boy walked briskly to her side, offering her a grin of his own and wrapping his arms around her middle. Merlin that would take getting used to.
“What're you doing?” he asked, clearly in a nosy mood. Emily was frozen for a short moment, unable to move as he impeded her with his short arms. “Making tea, you wanna help?” she asked before she pried herself away from him and continued walking through the main hall toward the kitchens, figuring that he'd follow suit. Zeke wasn't like most of the children at the Hub, he was often isolated, left to the company of his mother – when she was well enough to handle him, otherwise he was left to his own devices. “Sure,” he replied happily enough, sticking by her side. He received some odd looks from some of the other residents, a couple exchanging whispers as they exited the room into the main kitchen. This did not go unnoticed by either of them. “... everything alright?” she asked, giving Zeke a concerned look. He shrugged, moving to get the sugar – arguably the most important ingredient in tea – by his standards, if not hers. “Yep, it's fine,” was his late response.

Fine, was a term she used frequently, and despite it meaning simply that when she said it, coming from Zeke's mouth, it sounded like a lie. A white lie at best. Emily handed him a spoon before pulling out a few mugs from the cabinet below.
“How come I never see you out playing with the others?” she asked, making small talk while he distributed the sugar with steady hands.
Zeke shrugged, “they don't let me.”
Emily paused to watch him, resting the small of her back against the counter. Why they wouldn't let him was beyond her, but she didn't pretend to understand child psychology, she knew they were capable of being irrational and vindictive. Bullies. For all she knew, they could have been disapproving of his hair cut, or his nose, or even his inquisitive nature.
“Well they're missing out,” she said with a small huff, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly before reaching across for the kettle. The tap ran slow, and it was clear that maintenance still hadn't gotten it checked out – though apparently it was something to do with the pressure being too low, yet another thing she didn't begin to try to understand.
“It's because I'm different,” he said, staring down at his feet.
“That's a terrible reason,” Emily was quick to reply, “I'm different too you know.”
Granted, he was nothing like her, and in fact she'd have thought him perfectly normal if not for the circumstances in which he lived. Unfortunate circumstances.
“Maybe that's why we're friends?” he offered, “we're both different.”

Friends. Emily didn't have many of those, she was selective with who she kept as company, and even more so with those she considered to be dear to her – special, or worthy of her care. And even though she'd become familiar enough with Zeke over the past few weekends, she'd have hardly considered him a friend and this left a sensation similar to that of guilt stirring in the pit of her stomach.
“It must be it,” she replied with a genuine smile. Turning the tap off, Emily replaced the kettle on its stand and turned it on, watching as Zeke busied himself with tea bags. He was easy to please. A good kid, and she probably did like him more than she had expected to. As far as kids went, he was sensible and charming enough to not get on her nerves. He didn't waste her time with noise, he knew when to keep to himself, and he knew when he could get away with pushing the boundaries.

“Emily?” he queried, adjusting the teabag strings and wrapping them around the handles – an act that Emily found both interesting and annoying. “Mmm?” she replied, moving to add the water, she could sense he was about to ask an awkward question, it was all in the tone of his voice.
A moment of silence fell between them, only the sound of the trickling water and the hum of residents chatting in the other room could be heard. Replacing the kettle, Emily turned her attention to her helper, eyebrows raised out of curiosity. Was he going to ask her? Or not?
“... nothing, don't worry.”

They added the milk and stirred in silence before stacking the cups on trays and carrying them out to the hall for distribution. There was a noticeable change in the atmosphere from a few weeks go. The recent donation drives were drumming up more support and the incoming resources were beginning to make a bigger difference. It was one of the things Emily loved about the place, the lead up to Christmas was a time where the people could find some comfort and forget their troubles. The Hub, formerly known as the Birmingham Christmas Shelter, first opened its doors on Christmas day in 2006, but had since developed into something greater than that. It was a place where people could seek refuge all year around. It provided them with shelter, warmth, food, basic first aid and friendship. While nobody was excluded from the premises, with the exception of rule breakers, the residents rarely outstayed their welcome and often returned to give back to the community that had supported them.

“Thank you,” replied one of the residents as she accepted the tea. Emily offered her a fleeting smile before moving on, only to be distracted by movement across the room. A pair of the older boys appeared to be heckling Zeke again – standing over him, and while this didn't surprise her, she was surprised that it was happening indoors with staff around. There were ramifications for this type of behaviour. Placing the tray on a nearby table, Emily inched her way toward the boys, she wasn't going to let it continue. She wasn't going to let it go unnoticed, even if everyone else seemed to be oblivious or turning a blind eye.

“Freaky Zekey!” Emily heard one of the boys call out. Freak... Zeke... well now that was original. If there was one thing that irked her more than bullying itself, it was stupidity, and these two seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel as far as intelligence and wit was concerned. Frowning, she hung back a moment, not wanting to fight all of the kids battles, but she wasn't about to let them walk all over him either. The taunting continued with subtle digs and moments of brash name calling, Freaky Zekey being their primary catchphrase for the day. Clearly it was the only thing they could think of, hence their overuse of the term.
Zeke, though he didn't look pleased, seemed to be taking it in his stride, his slack lips and tight frown were the only indications that he was distressed or at least uncomfortable. But he held his chin up high and didn't appear to have plans to back down or remove himself from the situation. This was admirable, if not foolish. Emily turned her head to see if any of the other staff or volunteers were watching this, did they know this was an issue? Had the boys been dealt with before? The Hub had a rock solid anti-bullying policy, it would mean near expulsion from the facility and a definite expulsion for a re-offence. As it so happened, nobody seemed to notice, not even the middle aged heavily bearded man slumped on the floor only meters from where they stood.

A loud shattering sound followed by a startled exclamation caught her attention, her eyes darting back to Zeke. For a moment she was under the impression one of the boys had smashed the mugs purposefully and her eyes swiftly looked Zeke over from head to toe for signs of cuts or spillage. Nothing.
“Freaky Zekey! Freaky Zekey! Chucked a Leaky!” taunted one of the other boys an ugly smirk forming on his face after the expression of shock subsided.
“How'd you do that?!” said the other, his eyes wide and livid “YOU FREAK! HOW?!” And that was it. The last straw.

“OI!” Emily called out as she covered the length between them in long deliberate strides, projecting her voice so loud it made heads turn and the boys jump. The boys, Zeke included, took a measured step apart, shrinking backwards on her approach.
“You and you!” she said pushing the two further away from Zeke as she stepped in front of him, shielding him from their stupidity and loud voices. “What's going on here?!” Though she rarely needed to raise her voice, it came naturally to her now. Zeke popped his head out from around her back, the tray clenched tightly in both hands, though it was scattered with fragments of cups and watered with tea. “Nothing's going on,” he said in a low voice, making strong eye contact with her as if to prove a point. She didn't buy it.

“This, is not nothing,” she said gesturing to the mess, “ and neither is name calling and intimidating people.” Did she need to continue? Her eyes were trained on the two older boys, she was adamant on teaching them a lesson. If she could have had it her way, she'd apparate them to a holding cell on level two and leave them there a while to consider their actions.
The two trouble makers exchanged looks before averting their gaze to the people around them, trying to single out a guardian? Nobody stepped up to claim them, again, given the circumstances it wasn't surprising.
“He was the one who broke them,” said one of the boys, giving Zeke a look of disgust. “He breaks things all the time.”

Emily shook her head, she wasn't interested in that... for now. “No, what were you two doing,” she said, poking them both in the shoulder to make her point clear. Neither answered.
“Both of you. Directors office. Now.”

***

After giving her version of events, Emily left the boys in the custody of Pam, the Hub's Director. She was an elderly woman, her disposition something akin to fluffy kittens, rainbows and smiley-faced cupcakes... but she had a firm hand and didn't tolerate poor behaviour. Justice would be served, in one form or another. Holding cells aside, Emily would have liked to see the boys exiled from the premises for a day or two, but who was she to judge them? And they were still young boys, the world was too harsh a place for them to get by on their own, safely. Perhaps cleaning and laundry duties would suffice.

Emily ignored the incessant whispering in the hall, and returned the odd looks she got with glares. Combing her fingers through her hair, she grabbed her bag and coat from the staff quarters and was set to call it a day. It crossed her mind to check on Zeke, see how he was in the aftermath, but he was nowhere in sight... probably just needed space. Passing his mother, Veronica, the woman slumped in the armchair - her knees raised and folded beneath her chin, Emily shook her head pitifully and moved on. There was no point in asking her where he was, she wouldn't know.

All the way home, she kept replaying the scene in her head, the taunting, his expression, the cups... and she still couldn't fathom how it had all happened. He breaks things all the time, echoed in her head. She knew what that had been like, only, it was different... more real and more intense for her, it was beyond being accident prone. Her magic had started developing early, she had memories of it from the age of five – even if it was a little hazy at times, spontaneous combustion and things breaking were among her more common displays of magic at the time. They had been few and far between and always driven by extreme fear or anger. Thoughts of Zeke slowly faded to the recesses of her mind, instead they were replaced by those memories of her childhood catastrophes and afflictions. The scar on her lower back coming to mind as she walked.

Chapter Two

Emily usually opted to save Sunday's for sitting around at home, sleeping in - if she could bring herself to do it, going out for brunch - whether by herself or with company, and simply indulging in as lazy a day as was possible by her standards. Social trips to Birmingham, haven't been on the cards since she left the Benson's shortly after graduation, but after a night of broken sleep she had developed an overwhelming and unfounded urge to return. It simply couldn't wait till the following weekend.

However, she wasn't returning to visit with her godparents, she'd learnt long ago to let them go, to move on. No, she was here to visit Zeke and see what the outcome of the previous days shenanigans had been. Dressed in muted browns and black, Emily trotted through the city, down the familiar pathways, through the park but paused in front of the Hubs entrance, a brown paper bag from the bakery clutched in her hand. She couldn't explain her hesitancy if anyone were to ask, and it was for this reason that she took a breath and proceeded through the doors. Emily did her best to ignore some of the regular staff, she wasn't here to help out, she wasn't here to work... she was here to visit, as a friend. Her eyes scanned the main hall before settling on the woman, Veronica, she was alone, and there was no Zeke in sight.

“Emily? I'm glad you came in today, did you know your phone's disconnected?”

Pam's cheerful voice was unmistakable. Turning to face the woman, Emily offered her a small smile. “I'm currently between places, so I'm without a phone for now,” she lied too easily. To be fair, she had been considering moving again, she was beginning to think she'd become too complacent in her current home. It was turning her soft. She needed to break routine, again.
“Oh, right... er, might I have a word with you? In my office?”

There had been many instances throughout her life when she knew she was in trouble, from her parents, at school, even in social situations where she had maybe overstepped some invisible line... but this, this was new territory. “Of course,” she replied, curious to see what warranted a phone call, or a private discussion of sorts with the Director herself. Emily could only assume it had something to do with the boys and their issues the previous day.
“You're not in trouble,” Pam highlighted as they walked, though this did nothing to curb her curiosity.
“Is there something I can help with?” Emily asked by way of getting the conversation rolling.
Stepping through the Director's door, Emily seated herself in front of the modest laminate plywood desk placing her baked goods in her bag and setting it on the floor beside her.
“There is...” and this was news to her.
“Zeke Rogers,” Pam continued, seating herself and leaning forward resting her arms on the desk between them, her smiling eyes peering at her with a sensitivity she'd not seen before. “He's taken a liking to you,” she added when Emily didn't say anything.
“I suppose,” she replied, already uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.
“This is a good thing, Emily,” the woman insisted with a nod, “he's never really fit in, and his mother is not far from gone, he needs someone in his corner” and that was perhaps the most blasé a phrase she'd heard the woman speak. Didn't fit in, not far gone, someone in his corner, she could see the dots, but wasn't sure if she wanted to connect them.
“I'm sorry?” she asked, still not liking where the conversation was headed.
“We have an understanding with Child Services, but considering the circumstances Zeke shouldn't have been let to stay here at all. We're able to provide him with basic and immediate care, yes, but considering the condition of his mother, his future is completely insecure... he should have been taken into the system already – put into a good home, sent to school regularly. He needs a family home, not a half-way house,” Pam paused here before continuing, and Emily was grateful for the break in communication, her mind racing to pre-empt where this was going. What was the point with this? “We need you to convince him, that it's in his best interest... to go into the system willingly when the time comes. He will resist it at first, they all do, but it doesn't have to be an unpleasant process.”

Needless to say, it took Emily a moment to process the request and she wasn't at all forthcoming to support it. They wanted her to make sure he didn't do a runner? Condemning the boy to the potential of one broken home after another only to be replaced and upgraded as each year passed... no, she couldn't condone that. But there was no other alternative. The streets, even the Hub, were not in his best interest long term. As far as resistance went, she couldn't blame him for that, couldn't blame any of them for that.

“Where is he?” she asked once they'd reached an agreement.
“I was hoping you would know,” replied Pam.

***

Tracking wasn't all that difficult if you knew your subject, even without magic. She'd ruled out the rest of the Hub, opting to head outdoors. The playground was a definite no, though the park benches toward the west entrance was a possibility, at least, it was where she would go, and where she thought he might. Emily was close, as the benches came into view, she could make out the shape of his small figure huddled in the crook of the bulging roots of the old oak tree, his legs outstretched in front of him as the tree's trunk supported his back.
“Wouldn't it be comfier on the bench?” she asked, approaching from the side.
Zeke considered her for a brief moment, squinting as he looked up at her toward the sun's wintry rays.
“Maybe,” he agreed in the end, flashing a small smile before his eyes trailed to the paper bag in her hand. “What's that?” he asked, nodding at it.
“Figured I'd bring us breakfast,” she replied, moving past him to the bench, crossing one leg over the other and waited for him to join her. “Hungry?”

Zeke didn't hesitate in getting up, practically running to where she sat, plopping himself beside her so forcefully she was surprised he didn't send her flying. “What did you get?” he asked, hazel eyes locked on the bag, his grin all the encouragement she needed.
“One of my favourites,” Emily replied, unfolding the crease in the top of the paper bag and letting him peer inside.
“Cinnamon scrolls?” he asked, “But, that's not breakfast.”
Emily chuckled lightly at his response, “Says who?”
Zeke shrugged, he didn't have an answer to that, and frankly he didn't seem to care, the grin growing on his face evidence of that.
“It's not an everyday breakfast food … but we can make exceptions,” she said with a wink, removing one of the scrolls and admiring its sugary glaze before extending the bag to him to to take his.
“I like exceptions,” Zeke replied, accepting the treat and tucking in. Neither of them spoke while they ate, both licked their lips and fingertips as they consumed the baked goods.
“Cinnamon always has a way of making things seem better,” Emily mused once she had finished, balling up the paper bag and leaving it on the bench beside her for the time being.
“It's because its warm,” he agreed, still eating his, pausing occasionally to pick crumbs off his lap.

At this point she experienced an uncomfortable sensation of squirming in her stomach, but did her best to dismiss it. In her opinion, not that it seemed to matter, there was time for this later... but Pam had been insistent and something told her the woman was as stubborn as she was, only more experienced at it.
“Zeke...” she started, not sure how to approach something as delicate as this. The pastry would hopefully work to her advantage.
His eyes were on her, though his mouth was busy chewing and so he couldn't respond verbally. His small nod was enough.
“... you given any thought to what you'll do when... you know.” When his mum died. Yeah, good going Browne, real smooth, so full of tact.
Zeke swallowed hard, his lips slack and lacking the enthusiasm he sported only minutes ago. He shrugged, opting not to participate in this conversation, Emily envied him that.
“I only ask because... I'm concerned,” she continued. “I shouldn't be telling you this...” and really, she shouldn't, Pam would likely gut her and serve her innards in the Hub's famous Christmas pot pies if she knew. This wasn't part of her plan, but Emily wouldn't lie to the kid, that's where she drew the line. Lies.
“Tell me what?” he encouraged, twisting in his seat so she knew she had his undivided attention.

The corner of her lip pulled up into a sympathetic smile, the kid, had a way of being cute and this was not helping things. “They're going to get Child Services in soon. You need proper care, and the Hub can't give you that, especially once ...” your mum dies. Again, she couldn't say it out loud.
Zeke's face fell, his fingers finding the crevice where his leg met hers, stroking along its length distinguishing between the difference in fabrics. His touch was light and innocent, but so strange. She didn't stop him, rather she watched curiously.
“How soon?” he asked, his gaze staring through their legs.
“I don't know... a few weeks? A month?”

Chapter Three

“Can we go in here?” asked Zeke, tugging at her arm, prohibiting her from moving past the store window.
“What do you want to go in there for?” she asked, moving to open the door for him regardless, she was happy enough to indulge for time being, it was the sort of place she could get lost in.
“I want to look,” he said simply, relinquishing his hold on her and moving into the book store.

Emily followed him in, glancing at the shelves every so often and reading the occasional spine that caught her attention. Books were aesthetically pleasing, so she didn't mind browsing with him. Since their talk in the park two weeks ago, Emily had made more frequent trips to Birmingham, even stopping by in the afternoons before heading home. She didn't make the trips to sit around the Hub, no, she and Zeke had plans to explore the city so her civic duties had taken a back seat for the time being. It was all part of the deal Zeke had cunningly negotiated with her. For as long as he wasn't taken in by Child Services, she would keep him company, and then when they did come for him, he would go quietly. Needless to say, Zeke was growing on her, and almost in a literal sense.
“Do you have a favourite story?” he asked, reappearing at her side, his hand wrapping around hers.
She pursed her lips, considering his question seriously. “Hhhmmm,” she mused, collecting her thoughts, she had to think of one he'd know, which wasn't all too difficult, all things considered. “I always enjoyed a good Sinbad tale,” she started, wondering if he would approve of pirate stories, they were far better than the princess damsel in distress type. “I don't know it..” he replied, cocking his head to the side before shrugging and continuing down the row of shelves, towing her by the hand.
“You're missing out. What's your favourite?” she asked in return, curious.
“I haven't figured that out yet,” he was quick to reply. Emily refrained from chuckling, his honesty was appreciated even if he was a little blunt at times.

“Where do you live?” he asked, stopping beside a display of maps keen to continue their random conversation. “Are we close?” he asked, his hazel eyes locked on hers briefly before glancing back to the door they had come in through. Emily shook her head in response, “No, I live in London.” Again, she didn't lie to him, no harm would come from telling the truth – on this matter at least.
“London!” he exclaimed, “and you come here to see me! That's far!” he said, letting go of her hand and grabbing a map, parking himself on the floor at her feet and spreading it out in front of him.
“London's there!” he said matter of factly, placing his finger on the dot, “and... and Birmingham's here,” he added, his other finger hovering before touching down on the point. “Look at the distance!”
Emily laughed lightly, bending at the knees to squat beside him. “It's not that far, it just looks that way on paper,” she reassured.
Zeke stared at the map, glancing from point A to point B and back again. “Look, if you make a straight line,” she started, tracing an imaginary line between the two cities, “and you measure it with your fingers, then it's not that far apart,” she said, pressing her hand against the map, four fingers measuring the distance between the two cities.
“Four fingers,” he said, nodding. “You live four fingers away from me.” Emily smiled, nodding, before ruffling his hair and standing up.

“What's London like?” he asked, diligently folding the map back up, careful not to make any new creases in it.
“It's a lot like Birmingham,” she noted, “only, it has the bonus of the river Thames.”
Zeke nodded his understanding, she could tell that his head was full of questions, but he was selective in what he asked so she could appreciate the thought behind them... and as a result, usually indulged him in a response.
“Have you lived there long?” he asked, placing the folded map back on the rack before turning to face her.
“Long enough,” she agreed.
“So you're not from there originally,” he deduced. Clever.
“No... I was actually born here, in Birmingham.”
Browsing the shelves, they remained quiet for some time, until they both grew bored.

“Could I come and visit you?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, “I've not been to London before.” Whether it was accidental, or by design, his innocent and childish features appeared to be pleading with her, and she found this unnerving. The thought of taking him back with her, or inviting him to visit, wreaked havoc on her mind. Her life here in Birmingham, and her life in London, were completely different, she couldn't have them mixing. He was just a kid, and she only visited because she'd developed some distorted sense of duty to him – which she blamed Pam for. The woman put thoughts into her head, made things seem bigger than they were.
“I don't think so, it's not part of our agreement,” she replied honestly, placing both of her hands on his shoulders, turning him away from her and steering him toward the door. She didn't want to see his face, his eyes.
“But why not?” he pressed, unrelenting in his request though he let himself be steered out of the shop.
“It's not for me to say, I'm not your guardian, end of discussion.”

She longed to leave it there. To move on... but she'd given him a bone, and he wasn't letting go.
“But we're friends!” he insisted, raising his voice a little. “If we asked they would let us!” he added, not bothered by the passers by staring at them. Emily placed an arm around his shoulders, moving them down the street toward the square.
“Please?” he asked refusing to let her be silent. “I'll behave! I'll do dishes! I'll do anything.. but... can we ask? Can I ask?”
Ugh. And there it was, the pleading. Emily looked down at him, analysing his expression. Puppy dog eyes? Pouting lips? Really kid, really? She sighed.
“You can ask... but I don't want you getting your hopes up.”

***

Veronica didn't require much convincing, she gave her blessing quickly, and perhaps too quickly for Emily's liking. She could hardly judge the woman given her circumstances, and letting Zeke pull away from her was probably in his best interest in the end. “You still need the Director's permission,” Emily was quick to remind him, before he decided to grab his coat and drag her in any and every direction away from Birmingham.
“I know,” he replied, exhaling dramatically. This would be his hurdle, his road block, and from what she could tell, he wasn't prepared for it. Ever the optimist.
“... look after him,” whispered Veronica, catching her hand before she could follow after Zeke. “He needs someone like you.” Emily offered her a fleeting smile before excusing herself. The boy didn't need someone her, he needed a home, a guardian that would be able to provide for him and give him the attention he deserved. Emily was convinced she was the last person he needed. Her life was too complicated for him she couldn't live in that kind of secrecy, he would only suffer in her care. All this aside, she was hardly mother material.

“No,” was Pam's short and sharp reply as she peered across the desk at the two of them.
“But why not?” he persisted, “It wouldn't be for long, just a day, or... or a half day,” he said as if this were justification enough. Emily exchanged a look with the Director, this is why she was hesitant in getting involved in the first place, children didn't understand rules and limitations. They got attached to things and ideas far too easily, and it wasn't healthy. Especially when it couldn't last.
“My answer is no,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I don't think you quite understand the severity of your circumstances, we're just not at liberty to let you wander around the country at your own will, even with your mothers consent.”
“But--”
“No but's,” she added firmly, “Ms Browne is not responsible for you, the Hub is, we have a duty of care for you which is supported by law, otherwise you'd have found yourself in a foster home long ago. So my answer is no.”
Zeke's expression hardened, his cheeks glowing red despite his fair complexion. “Then I'm leaving. I'll leave and never come back!” he threatened.
“Zeke... no,” Emily commanded softly, intervening.
“Do I need to call Child Services?” threatened Pam.

Emily could see this escalating too quickly. From a simple – though ridiculous request, to threats of him leaving and Pam kicking him out. Neither were desirable. It was perhaps a bit tactless of Pam to go to such lengths, her experience with conflict resolution didn't seem to show in this instance. Zeke too was at fault, wearing his heart on his sleeve and so adamantly persisting with his request. She envisioned childish tears and tantrums to ensue, but what came next had her wide-eyed in surprise.
“NO! You can't do that!” Zeke had all but yelled. In the same moment, the mirror on the back wall, in addition to the four shelving units around the room went crashing to the floor, shattering and splaying in all directions.

“WHATT---?!?” came Pam's exclamation as she jumped from her seat, narrowly missing the thick tomes that fell just short of her. One look at the mess left her swaying on the spot, suspended in a motion similar to that of a dandelion spore caught on a breeze, before she too crashed to the floor. Perhaps it was all a little too much for her? Yes?

But never mind that. Merlin. He wasn't, was he?

Zeke's jaw dropped, the red in his cheeks draining quickly. “I—I... di-di-didn't..” he stuttered.
“You're okay,” Emily replied, moving swiftly behind the desk to check the woman's pulse and condition. “She's fine, it's just shock.” But more importantly...
“How long have you been making things happen?” she asked curiously, moving back to his side and adjusting the chair so she was facing him head on, her tone soft and hopefully reassuring. The mess could wait, there was no hurry to get that cleaned up, not with Pam out cold. Right now it was Zeke that needed her attention, the look on his face was enough to indicate that he had struggled with this, blamed himself for things out of his control.
“Eerrr.. uuh...” he voiced, shrugging.
“Does it happen when you're angry, or scared?” she asked, again using as soothing a tone as she could muster.
Zeke stared at her, or stared past her – she couldn't quite tell.
“It's okay, you can tell me,” she prompted, extending an arm to invite him closer, hugs often equated to feelings of security – that much she knew about children. Consider her an expert now. Emily could feel him nodding against her arm as he inched closer, leaning on her and leaving his seat for her lap. He was perhaps a tad too big for this kind of thing, but she didn't push him away. “I'm a freak,” he muttered softly, his voice catching in his throat all the while wrapping his arms around her shoulders and burying his face there. Instinctively, Emily wrapped her own arms around him, squeezing him gently. “No. You're not a freak, you're a wizard,” she said softly in his ear.

Chapter Four

It only took a few brief moments in the aftermath, for her to promise Zeke that she would try to answer as many of his questions as she could, though at a more appropriate time. The swift and fluid appearance of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad was greatly appreciated, and they set to work with restorations and altering Pam's memory without much prompting. Aron had a good team, and she would tell him as much next time she saw him.
“All set Ms. Browne, was there anything else?” one of the members asked, extending his hand to shake hers.
“No, thank you, that will be all,” she replied astutely, making good on the gesture by offering her own. The two-man team exchanged looks when they were done and then as swiftly as they had appeared, they disapparated which resulted in an audible “Coooooooooooooool!” from Zeke, followed by more staring, mouth gaping.

“They knew you, do they work for you?” he asked, curious, his eyes still wide with what appeared to be excitement. He had quickly overcome the shock of what he had done and the 'discovery' of magic, now wandering confidently and asking questions – his mind no doubt racing to keep up with things.
“Not quite, they work for a friend,” she replied. There was time for this talk later, they still had to wake Pam up. Indicating for Zeke to take his place, Emily meandered to the woman's side and uncorked the vial of sniffing salts, wafting it beneath her nose. As Pam regained consciousness, Emily swiftly slipped the vial back in her pocket, and spoke to the woman. “Pam, are you alright?” she asked, concern saturating her tone. “Can you hear me?” The woman blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light before opening her mouth the speak, “What... happened?”

The story had been that she simply collapsed, and Emily had insisted she have some tea and head home early using low blood sugar as a plausible explanation for the event. She also offered to volunteer to lend an extra set of hands at the Hub for the remainder of the afternoon - this way she could keep an eye on Zeke and put some of his questions to rest. Needless to say, Pam had agreed.

Opting to assist with the more secluded tasks of laundry and dish washing, Emily and Zeke spent a solid two hours discussing some of the ins and outs of magic sometimes using elaborate code words or the faintest whispers. His questions ranged from cauldrons and broomsticks, to green skin and warts, and more practical subjects like school and daily life. Despite his initial shock, Zeke had adjusted to the idea easily, and his enthusiasm and raw excitement was not easily contained. But as the sun continued to set, and the residents started to retire to their make-shift sleeping quarters, it appeared Zeke still had questions on his mind.

“Can it fix my mum?” he asked, breaking the silence as she passed him another soapy dish to rinse. “No,” Emily replied regrettably, “there's a lot that it can do, but there's still a lot it can't. I'm sorry.” So no, magic couldn't heal his mum, not as far gone as she was, cancer was nasty business. Zeke nodded his understanding, letting another moment of silence pass between them.
“Then, what's going to happen to me?” he asked, clearly concerned, his voice shaking slightly. No doubt it was something he had considered a fair bit recently and rightly so as his mothers condition had worsened. There had been talk bout getting Veronica hospitalised, it was beyond a matter of paying fees, it was a matter of making the last weeks or days of the woman's life more bearable. They both knew it was only a matter of time before he was taken away, before he had to move on... and be brave.
“I can't live with muggles, can I?”
Emily smiled, more to herself than anything else, he was a sharp one, that's for sure.
“It wouldn't be practical, no,” she agreed, passing him yet another plate. “Unless they're family,” she added.
Zeke just shook his head, he didn't speak of family much, and she didn't press him to. All she knew was his father had passed, and his mother would soon follow. “When I get into work tomorrow I'll see what I can arrange for you,” she had some contacts she could schmooze, could probably keep him out of their system until something permanent became available – at least.
“Can I stay with you?”
Emily paused what she was doing, letting the gravy slick plate drop to the bottom of the sink. Could he stay with her? Something in the way he asked her, led her to believe he didn't mean temporarily. But that was ludicrous, truly outrageous.
“Until we find you a family,” she replied, opting to go with that.
“No,” he was quick to interject, “I mean... can I stay with you, properly?”
The fact that he emphasised properly, made her feel almost nervous, her stomach writhed uncomfortably. Shaking her head, she replied to him softly, “No, you need a family.”
The look on Zeke's face, his features distorted with pain made something in her chest tighten and ache.
“We... could be a family...” he countered.

Great Mother of Merlin.

“Zeke,” Emily started, preparing to give him a list of reasons why that wasn't possible, only, he seemed to beat her at her own game. Not with a response, but with a hug. His arms were around her middle again, and his chin was resting on her stomach, his eyes staring up at hers. “Please,” he said in a low voice.
This was entirely new territory for her, on the one hand, she was cursing herself for spending so much time with him to begin with, for letting him get so close to her. On the other hand, she was cursing herself for holding back. He wasn't a bad kid, as far as kids were concerned. Zeke was charming, curious, insightful even, he wasn't loud or obnoxious, but he was present. He was sensitive and understanding, but had a fire in him and a small disregard for rules – which she found amusing for the most part – though sometimes mildly concerning. She could tolerate him at least, and that was saying something. On top of that, the kid needed saving from himself, as well as from the muggles. Not only was he a target because of his magic and lack of control over it, but he seemed to have needed her assistance on a number of occasions which only strengthened her sense of duty to him. In addition to this, his mothers words echoed in the recess of her mind, look after him.
“It's too soon to be talking about this,” she finally said, “I'll finish up here, you go to bed and be with your mum, we can talk about this later.”
The look in his eyes told her he knew she was right, and with one last squeeze around the middle, his head hung low, Zeke traipsed from the room.

Chapter Five

December had that way of creeping up unexpectedly. Furthermore, work and social commitments also had a way of passing time, accelerating the progression of one week to the next. Between training, working, spending time with Gavin and making frequent trips to the West Midlands, Emily wasn't sure how she even managed to find time to sleep. Things were beginning to simultaneously slow down and speed up at work, in preparation for the holiday break. Processes sped up, meetings and debriefs were scheduled more frequently, and productivity was high. But there was a sense of finality as the year drew to a close.

With her pending weekend trip to France, followed by Christmas and New Years celebrations, Emily prepared herself for what was bound to be another difficult visit with Zeke. Since his mother had been admitted to the City Hospital, Emily had found it challenging to tolerate her visits with him. He was miserable, she was miserable, his mother was in a bad way and barely lucid. Still, she went. She had promised him that she would be there. For this reason, her visits had been particularly unpleasant. The misery in the oncology ward was one thing, compounded with the misery of the child and the need for paperwork to be signed... well... she'd have more willingly locked herself in a lift with a manticore. It took a great deal of patience, and equal measures of coaxing to get Veronica to sign all the legal documents required for her to have temporary guardianship of Zeke in the event she passed – which was inevitable. Emily had relied on the legal expertise of those few that she trusted most , so everything was done by the books-- only a little quicker in her case thanks to the strings she was able to pull. At any rate, Emily was confident everything would go through without a hitch.

“Today?” Emily asked, staring through the slits in the blinds looking into Veronica's room. Zeke stood beside her, pasty white with dark circles beneath his eyes. It looked as though he hadn't slept in days.
“Worse,” he said, his eyes trained on his mother as if she might disappear at any moment. From her brief discussion with the attending physician, Emily could tell it hadn't been good. Shorter bouts of consciousness, loss of control over bowel and bladder movements, and she was still physically deteriorating. How was it, that a woman as thin as a praying mantis, could still lose what seemed to be half of her body mass?
Emily placed a hand on Zeke's shoulder, drawing him nearer to her as they stood in the hall looking miserable together.
“You remember I have to go away this weekend, don't you?” she prompted, making sure he hadn't somehow forgotten. The last thing she needed was for him to be expecting her when she couldn't be there. The idea of the getaway made her feel selfish now, given everything that was going on. The only reason she hadn't cancelled it, was because she knew she needed it. One weekend. A short vacation. A break from all of her responsibilities, so she could wrap her head around this mess. That, and she knew Gavin would be insistent.
“I know,” he replied after a measured pause. “But you won't be long will you?”
“I'll be back Monday,” she confirmed, moving her hand to his hair to ruffle it lightly.

They ate cold sandwiches and had tea in the cafeteria, neither of them uttering a word until a call over the pa system announced that visiting hours were almost up.
“Can't I stay?” he asked, not for the first time.
Emily just shook her head. There was nothing she could do about it. Nothing.
“C'mon, let's go say goodbye,” she said reluctantly, slipping out of her chair and beckoning him with an open arm. There was nothing worse than watching him repeat his goodbye's over and over again on the off chance it would be his last, but she did it anyway. She imagined, the only thing that could be worse than watching them, was giving or receiving them.

Chapter Six

Everything had happened too quickly. The holiday season and her vacation were long over, the troubles at the Ministry seemed to be a continued source of frustration and on top of that her life was on a tilt and about to be turned upside down. Despite all this, Emily woke early, showered, dressed and went down for breakfast. One look at the inside of her fridge and her cupboards told her the first thing on their agenda would be food shopping.

It had been nearly a month since Veronica had passed, and in that time her paperwork for temporary custody had been scrapped and an application for full adoption replaced it, which then stalled due to the holiday season and a labyrinth of bureaucrat red tape, thus leaving her Zeke-less and the boy in the care of a foster family. If that hadn't been hard enough, she wasn't allowed visiting rights either, so the best she could do in that time was watch him from afar, out of sight and out of mind. The family weren't bad, they were muggle, but otherwise decent. A mother and father and a young girl some years younger than Zeke. A small part of her felt guilty at the thought of taking him from them, from a proper family and a proper home, but it was in his best interest to grow up in her world, and in that regard she was a better fit for him.

Emily ate her breakfast in silence, the toast seemed almost stale in her mouth, making it a chore to get through. Perhaps she simply wasn't hungry, and that was understandable. It was the day of the exchange. With the last of her legal documentation and quick check in the mirror, Emily left her apartment knowing full well when she returned she wouldn't be alone, and it wouldn't be because Gavin was gracing her with his presence.

She was early, always early, and for that reason she opted to walk two blocks to the Highgate Underground, and waste time taking the train to Tottenham Court Road before walking the rest of the way to the adoption agency just off of Oxford. There were no more Birmingham visits, he was in her neck of the woods now, but that did nothing to comfort her until she had her hands on him. Their last visit together at his mothers wake had been a sombre and private one, and while it hadn't been ideal, she was thankful for the short moment she had with him before they took him into care. Despite his reluctance to go, and his clingy nature, she'd managed to placate him with nothing more than the promise of seeing him soon, that, and insisting as long as he had the compass she'd gotten him for Christmas, that they would find each other. She'd meant it in the literal sense too, having charmed it to track his location should anything go awry.

After checking in with the receptionist, and whiling away even longer minutes in the waiting area, she was finally called into one of the offices for processing. Most of the talking was done by the officer, so Emily listened attentively, nodding at the appropriate intervals while occasionally offering a response. It was as she looked up at the clock that there was a knocking sound on the door and the receptionist from earlier ducked her head in, an unceremonious “They're here,” seemed to announce the arrival of the boy she wanted to see. Zeke. Emily's head turned back to the officer expectantly in time to see him signal two minutes with his fingers. “Almost done,” he replied, a warm smile lighting his otherwise ageing features. The last of the documents where signed and stamped before copies were made. Emily stuffed her remaining folder of papers in her bag, keen to leave to office and ruffle the boys hair again. She only hoped he would be as happy to see her as she was to see him... but she wouldn't get her hopes up, thus lowering her expectations.

She needn't have worried though, as soon as she stepped back out into reception, an exclamation spit her face into a grin.
“Emily!” he had all but yelled, jumping from his chair and crossing the floor to her side. Effectively abandoning the family that had cared for him in the past weeks.
“Zeke!” she replied, as she usually did when he greeted her in that way. She took him by the shoulder, pulling him closer to her side before pushing him away again to check him over head to toe. Everything looked to be in order.
“All well?” she asked, of course there was more significance to her question than the muggles could understand, but Zeke was good at playing along. “No more headaches,” he replied. Thanks you's, goodbye's and good luck's were exchanged and eventually, she was able to lead Zeke out the front door as his legal guardian, his permanent legal guardian. “Can we go home now?” he asked a little impatiently, to which Emily responded with raised brow's and a subtle, “not yet.” They could stop for lunch, perhaps celebratory ice cream and then do some light shopping. It wouldn't look good if the boy starved in her care, and Merlin knew she ate enough for the both of them.


***

“Can I do it?!” Zeke asked, dropping a bag of groceries to the ground at her feet. Emily held out the key to him, it made no difference to her who opened the door, so long as they got in, so he was welcome to have at it.
“Go for your life,” she encouraged, though on closer observation he was holding the key upside down, “other way,” she prompted.
It took him a moment, but he eventually eased it into the key hole and turned, cracking the seal before thrusting the door wide open. There was no response. Emily watched him, curious to know what he was thinking, especially since he wasn't being forthcoming with words.
“It's not much... but it'll do for now,” she said, moving past him up the small half-flight of stairs before meeting the main floor - the kitchen to the side of the entrance. Emily started unloading her bags, “we can always move if you don't like it, it's no hassle.” Zeke picked up his bag and stepped in behind her, letting the door close with a soft click which preceded numerous other clicking sounds indicating that the premises was secured.
“I like it, it's... big,” he concluded with a nod before dumping the groceries on the kitchen counter. “Can I see my room!?” he suddenly added loudly, not waiting for her to show him around. He wandered through the open living area, running a hand along the dining table as he passed and stopping to flop on the couch before jumping back up again. “Upstairs, first to your right,” she informed, abandoning the bananas and following after him.

He beat her up there, practically jumping the flight of stairs to the landing. It was a wonder he didn't fall and hit his head... again, yet another thing that wouldn't look so good for her. The boy was perhaps a hazard, or at the least, a magnet for trouble. “THIS IS MY ROOOM?!” she heard him before she saw him, turning the corner in time to see him sprawled on his bed like a starfish.
“What'dya think?” she asked, knowing full well the room had the boys approval.
“It's brilliant,” he beamed, head turning to face her. Emily leaned on the door frame, arms crossed against her chest, it was comforting to know he didn't hate the place, she was more reluctant to leave this one than any of the others she'd had, and that, was saying something.
“We should still go shopping again, get you some actual things...” and more clothes wouldn't go astray either, he didn't have much with him and he deserved ones that looked less tacky.
“Can we go to Diagnally?” he asked, fumbling with the word.
“Diagon Alley,” she corrected, nodding that it was certainly on the agenda, “just say when.”
“When!”

Fin.