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Abbott Cokeworth Household

By the end of the week, Reginald had received the expected response, and agreed to the two-week visit. With great glee, Rowan took immense satisfaction in taunting Severus over the entire course of the weekend. Severus was not pleased whatsoever, but it was not like he could protest being left behind at Prince Manor. He was very much aware that his grandfather had gone easy with him given what he had put his twin sister through. And even Severus was not stupid enough to go and complain to his grandfather about it.

Luckily, the squib Abbot household was connected to the floo network since the Abbot family members regularly visited him. As such, after brunch, Monday morning Rowan was able to easily floo to their household. All she had to say was, "9 Mayfield Road."

After a twisting green whirl, Rowan emerged into a larger home than that of the Evan family. Rowan blinked at seeing the Abbot household waiting for. Andrew's round face grinned at her in relief as she turned to study his relatives.

Andrew's uncle was round and light haired much like he was. Mr. Abbot, however had a round belly and seemed to be rather relaxed with a pair of glasses on his face. His wife was dark haired, short and petite, a muggleborn witch. Their three children were two, four, and six.

Two boys with the youngest being a little girl. And despite being a squib, Mr. Abbot had married a muggleborn witch. As such the three younger children had all shown traces of Magic and would one day be attending Hogwarts.

Still Rowan could easily see why Andrew was going crazy. It would be hard on anyone to have two children under the age of five at the same time. And though adorable the little buggers got into everything much like a Niffler.

"Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott," Rowan politely said and inclined her head.

"A pleasure," Mr. Abbot said as Mrs. Abbott chimed along.

"Please allow our nephew to show you to your room," Mrs. Abbott kindly said.

"Thank you," Rowan gratefully said, but not before reaching into her pocket for an envelope.

Pushing the envelope into Mr. Abbott's hand, Rowan says, "We the Prince's are aware that there will be no doubt expenses including outings. This should suffice to cover them all. And I nor my family wish to be a burden to our hosts. Please accept."

"Er, thank you," Mr. Abbott naively blinked unable to refuse the money under Rowan's stern gaze. Mrs. Abbott attempted to protest, but a simple stare from Rowan caused her to quiet down. In the end, neither of them was able to refuse the envelope full of money.

Rowan kindly smiles back before making her way past them and carrying her travel bag with her. Andrew shows her to the guest room on the first floor just past the living room. The bedroom walls where white with light floral-patterned curtains and floral sheets. But at least it was a simple tone and not overly floral. She could live with that for two weeks.

"Been going crazy yet?" Rowan softly teased as she put her bag in the closet and closed it shut.

"Tell me about it," Andrew rolled his eyes. "I'm the youngest in the family, so I've never really had kids underfoot. I thought it would be easy to live with muggles considering I'm taking muggle studies, but everything's really hard!"

Rowan chuckles and pushes her cashmere silk sweater sleeve up to make sure her wand is in her wrist hostler, before pulling her sweater sleeve down. A gift from her grandfather over the summer to use. There were leg and belt wand holsters too. But the most common and convenient wand holsters were on the wrist. All it took was a snap of the wrist and the wand plopped right into the wand casters hand.

Andrew glanced over Rowan in envy and said, "It's not really fair that you can use your wand over the summer."

"Pass the exams equivalent to the N.E.W. T's and you can too," Rowan smirked back.

"No, thank you," Andrew said with a violent shudder of terror.

Rubbing his hands all sinister like, Andrew says, "So what should we do first? The movies? Or should I introduce you to some muggle novelty?"

Rowan arches her eyebrow and drily murmurs, "Andrew, I was raised in this muggle town for the first eleven years of my life. I'm fairly certain that I know more about this town than you do and are much more familiar with muggle studies than you are at present."

"I forgot," Andrew sheepishly said with a shrug. "But no, really, is this the town where you grew up in?"

"Mm, Lily lives here," Rowan replied as they made their way out of the bedroom and down the light-colored hallway.

"Evans lives here?" Andrew exclaimed as they made their way to the emerald painted door.

Gesturing at the door color with one finger, Rowan stares pointedly at Andrew. Andrew shrugs and says, "We're purebloods mostly. We've got a lot of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins in our family. Mostly Hufflepuff than Slytherin really, but uncle always personally thought he'd be Slytherin if he'd been able to have been sorted."

Rowan nods in approval as she moves out of the way as the blond six-year-old runs down the hallway fleeing the flaxen haired four-year-old brother. The two-year-old little blond girl in a cute pink dress sits on the floor playing with blocks and cars. Her doll lays on the ground sadly abandoned a few feet away from her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Abbott, if it's alright with you, I'd like to visit my friend Lily Evans," Rowan said to the sitting couple. "I hope that won't be a problem?"

"The Evans family?" Mrs. Abbott blinked in surprise.

"Yes."

"Oh, well, I don't see why that would be a problem," Mrs. Abbott said as she glanced at her husband in confirmation. "But please be back no later than dinner time at six. We'd like to go all out to eat tonight."

"Will do," Rowan replied as Andrew happily escaped the house with her.

The Author is watching Netflix, when her phone rings. Without paying attention she answers the phone and says, "Hello?"

"I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you stop making those bad puns, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will stalk you."

"Good luck," the author snickered, before haning up the phonecall. Unbeknown to the random caller, the author had recorded the entire conversation and sent it to a certain friend of cough.... in possession of ill-natured skills. Several days later, the poor reader is weeping in the middle of the night as a scary individual stares at them with a gun.

"It was just a joke!" The random reader shrieked in panic.

"Sure, it was," rasped the violent intruder, before beginning a very loud conversation via physical contact.

-A parody of the quote from Taken, Liam Neeson

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