It was this odd sensation. Familiar streets had her lost and her heart was sinking into an impossible suspense for something that would never come. And yet, as lost as she felt, she always found her destination, and the suspense was not brought to an end by some strange occurrence. No one jumped out at her, no startling news was delivered, and she did not end up at a dead end, at a complete loss as to how she got there and how to get back home. Everything was perfectly, one hundred percent normal. Life moved on as it always had, leaving Jack with the horrible question – Why does it feel as though everything has changed when not a thing is different?
It had something to do with the Ministry riot, Jack knew it. To see so many people against a law and willing to fight it and yet… This law had persisted, and it was still in existence. How was it possible that such a thing could exist against the consent of the public? Had she been the only one fighting before the riot? And why had everyone stopped? Had she emptied out her Gringotts vault for all of those rebels to go home and comply? And she would not forget those rebellious convicts either. The Potter children, not looking at her though she had come partly for them. Henry Yewbeam nearly dying of an overdose, unaware that she had checked on him yet again. And the man who had looked so much like her cousin that she knew it had to be a ghost…
It was all a terrible reminder of the overwhelming loneliness that was always ready to swallow her up.
She had come close to vanquishing it. She had patched things up with Albus – and then he found others to fill his time with. She began working with Fred – and he soon went back to preferring the company of cousins to that of his coworker. James had come back – and then left her to make amends with everyone. Gabby had spent a good few weeks forcing his company on her – and then he had been distracted by his own troubles. Jack had Sunny and Charlie, but they were both so busy that she never had any time with either girl, and the same could be said for her husband, whom she desperately missed having as a friend.
Lately, Jack had been missing people. She had found old pictures, and had locked herself in the office Max had made for her in the greenhouse. Pictures of Andrew brought smiles, pictures of Nemo brought laughter, pictures of Chase were promptly stowed away. She found a clipping of Amelia Lyon taking the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts and Jack beamed. How she missed Amelia, the girl who had gone from rival to friend, before returning to stranger. There were pictures of the Falcons before James had been thrown off the team, back when they had all bee friends. Pictures of her old team in the Ministry. Of her and the Weasley workers.
They were all strangers.
It was this revelation that spurred her towards Hogsmeade, the place where one could always find an acquaintance or, if lucky, a friend. Jack had been so concerned about righting magical society that she had fallen out of it, and the lone wolf was longing to reacquaint herself with the pack she spent so much time trying to predict.
Stops in the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes garnered no results, so she angled herself towards The Hog’s Head. The sensation of familiar disorientation was returning, and she briefly closed her eyes, letting herself amble along in this blindness. When she opened her eyes, she would remember where she was, who she was, what she was meant to be doing. She braced herself for this change of attitude, this reversal of hope, and she drew in a deep breath. Her eyelids parted, letting in the world.
And Matt Lestrange.
That was Matt Lestrange.
Matt Lestrange was on the street in front of her.
And he was alive.
He wasn’t dead, he was walking towards her.
The air left her as these facts collected in her mind, forcing her into a stand still, as she openly stared at one of the people in her life that she had called friend. One of those friends turned strangers. And it seemed he was going to make himself strange no more.