A Peaceful Park (2047)

Felipe strolled along the trimmed walkway with his pudgy great-grandson, George trailing behind him and his adorable great-granddaughter, Patricia running along side him to keep up with his long strides. George was 11 and would be sorted into Hogwarts that year, not a fact that Felipe was unhappy with. The lethargic child needed other children his own age to perhaps pull him out of his little hole. Not to mention the fact that George pouting at Hogwarts instead of in his living room, pleased Felipe to no end.

"Stop dawdling." His sharp attempts to speed up the boy usually got some sort of a response, but George was lost in a day dream.
"Are we getting doughnuts today, Gramps?" Patty asked, her eyes sparkling with joy. She was his favourite among his great-grandchildren, not only the only girl but the only one who seemed to care about life, beyond food and games.
"I don't know... maybe." he sighed, reaching up to lift his hat. The breeze that swept over his sparse hair was gentle and a welcome respite from the hot sun.

"Hey look!" George pointed out at the park's lake, his squeaky voice grating on Felipe's nerves. Must the child yell every time he wants something? Shielding his eyes against the sun, he noted a boy about George's age feeding the ducks. Great... a school mate. Just what he needed to make his day, another George.

Noting that his great-grandson had huffed and puffed over to the other child, Felipe altered his course and stalked off across the sandy soil after him.
"That's Sevie from George's class." Patty offered. At only eight, she was much brighter than George...
"Ah..." so his theory checked out.

Patty let go of his hand to go greet Sevie as well and Felipe folded his arms, all prepared to play the irate, grumpy great-grandfather he was. Sevie had nothing in common with George... he was tall and evenly proportions, while George was a carbon copy image of his father, short and fat. And while George's greasy brown hair seemed to beg to be combed or washed, Sevie's blonde hair was well tended and kept.

Besides physical appearance, the voices were opposite, with Sevie's being a normal child's and Sevie appeared to be more outgoing that the introverted George. Felipe found himself wondering how the two boys had ever become friends... which they obviously were. Sevie and George appeared just as happy to see each other as Felipe was unhappy to see them.

"Oh this is my Gramps, Sevie." Patty introduced him, smiling at him. That nearly dragged a smile from Felipe. He nodded, making a small grunting sound of acknowledgement.
"Nice to meet you, sir." Sevie returned. Felipe decided he didn't like Sevie any more than George. While George had nothing going for him; he was at the very least humble. Sevie oozed with way too much charm and manner to be an average child. No doubt his parents were big on society, he mused.

"Mama, this is George and his sister, Patty. And that's their great-grandfather, Mr. Blethyn." Sevie introduced, apparently having heard of Felipe before.
Looking back to the boy, Felipe noted for the first time the woman who was apparently Sevie's mother. Small, slight with a seemingly reserved nature. Apparently the father was the spoiling one.
"A pleasure, Mr. Blethyn." she nodded, her voice a pleasant change from the childish voices he had heard all day.
"Likewise." he muttered, not caring to ask for her name.

"Wanna play in the pit?" Sevie asked, already pulling George and Patty toward the sand box near the jungle gym. Both children nodded and soon sand flew in various angles as they began a battle of sorts. Left behind, Felipe sighed gruffly.
"Damn kids." he cursed, looking around for a bench to sit on. After all, he had no intention of standing in the hot sun to watch the kids play in sand. His statement caused Sevie's mother to raise an eyebrow, but he was not admonished for his profanity.

"So..." he was bored. "What do you do?" No doubt she was a perfect little house witch with house elves and 24/7 parties. He knew a pureblooded higher witch when he saw one. Her robes were expensively tailored, her posture pin straight and her manner reserved.
"I am a professor at Hogwarts." Not the answer he had anticipated, he blinked.
Chuckling, he pulled his wand out and conjured a bench under a tree.
"Sure... and just what do you teach? Muggle Studies?" he sneered, sitting down.
"Actually I do." The woman was insufferable, Felipe decided. Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut... "Along with Transfigurations." Not just a professor; a damn good one apparently.

"Ah..." he wasn't going to mess up again. After all he didn't care about her comfort or anything. He barely kept from snapping at her when she sat down beside him. At least she had sat as far from him as possible.

"You?" Felipe had not expected the question, but answered it despite his sudden discomfort.
"I'm retired..." he snarled, daring her to ask another question. She didn't.

They sat silently watching the three children play for a good ten minutes before the silence was broken, oddly enough by Felipe.
"I was an Obliviator..." she nodded, seemingly both unimpressed and uninterested.
"What house do you favour, Professor?" He asked, hoping for a way to poke at her.
"None." He rolled his eyes, ah a peacemaker.
"Oh come on. You know that's impossible. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw... always got to have a side."
Her green eyes met his but he stared her down.
"I am the Head of Gryffindor, but I do not favour any of the houses." And he could have sworn her to be a Slytherin... damn.

"Sure... everyone knows that Lions favour lions... hate the snakes." Felipe began to play with his pocket snap. She didn't reply.

Moments passed and finally Felipe lost interest in his snap and the laughs of the children. His attention turned to the woman sharing his bench. He had never paid much attention to the news or gossip, otherwise he knew that he'd know her name and several personal facts. The lives of Professors at Hogwarts were never secret.

"You taught long?"
"Long enough..."

She looked about the same age as his granddaughter... early forties. But witches were sometimes good at covering their ages. He noticed her gloved hand peeking out of her black sleeve robe. Abnormal... but he wasn't about to show curiosity. Blondes had always never been his type. He had always preferred brunettes, Poppy had been such as had every other woman after her. Plus, Sevie's mother was married. Cursing his eye, despite his lack of even liking her, Felipe ground his jaw, setting himself for a long moment.

"You were a Slytherin." She murmured.
"So?" Felipe shrugged. It was none of her business.
"What year?"
"'56..."
"Ah..." somehow the sigh irritated him more than her silence.
"You were a Gryffindor." She shook her head.
"No... I never attended Hogwarts."

Felipe's eyebrows raised.
"Beauxbatons?" She could be French, he decided, although her accent sounded English.
"I was home trained." An almost unheard of method of magical education. "Later I attended Salem."
"American?"
"Scottish German."
Grinning at the sudden irony, Felipe chuckled.

"Hell, I don't even know your name, but damned if I know you education." She smiled softly, amused.
"Eglantine McKevin." His smile faded. Apparently he had heard enough gossip... just enough for her name to ring a bell. She was Horatio McKevin's wife, but they were estranged. She was Headmistress Kiara McConn's mother and a former dark witch who had apparently nearly become a Dark Lady.
Her smile faded as well and she turned away.
"Sorry..." she murmured, rising from the bench. Felipe sat, not sure what to do. Part of him wanted to assure her that he had nothing against the dark arts. But the other part knew that his saying so would sound petty.
"McKevin's an old name." he shrugged. "Nothing to be ashamed of." Ignorance was nearly impossible, but he enjoyed a good lie.

"Indeed." she did not return to the bench however.

"Sevie!" He watched Eglantine accio a silver cane and approach her son. "I think it's time to go now, dearest." The boy nodded, almost instantly obeying. Again, Felipe sneered, not normal.

"It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Blethyn." she assured him, casting a cleaning spell at her son to rid him of the sand.
"Likewise." he sighed.
"Perhaps we will meet again." he doubted it, but couldn't help but notice the small thread of... hope in her voice. Estranged from her husband, pretty and smart too boot, maybe they would meet again.
"Perhaps."

George and Patty would take another ten minutes if he called them now, so he just leaned back and watched the mother and son walk away. He was a widower... maybe it was time to offer a bit of comfort to Professor DeLanquar...