walking at night

Khaat smiled. "They are absolutely safe. My dad's been giving them to wizard mothers for almost 60 years and never a single complaint. 60 years of healthy, happy babies and mothers. And, no, it won't conflict with the potion I gave you at St. Mungos." Khaat paused and said, "You know, I'd let him surprise you. Sometimes dads-to-be can feel very helpless and left out of the pregnancy and birth process. The more he can participate, even in small ways, like picking up potion or tea refills for you, this little secret trip, the happier he'll be and the more he'll feel part of these twins."

"Yes," Khaat said, nodding, "Definately. Maybe you can conjure a really comfortable chair for yourself and make it a magical chair that will help you in and out when that becomes difficult. Mugglers have really nice reclining chairs that do that. They push a button and the chair helps you out of it. So I presume you could come up with something a little more elegant and mom-friendly.'

As she was speaking a small female tawny owl arrived at her window. Khaat opened the window for the little bird and fed her a piece of apple from Archangel's dish. The little bird seemed cold and tired. Khaat let her in and took the letter she had in her talons. Khaat conjured a bowl of warm water for her to drink to warm up with and gave her a little bowl of fish pieces to recharge her energy. "Poor thing is so cold," Khaat said, stroking the little owl softly, "I'll warm her up before I send her back."

She turned her attention to the letter. It was from Hogwarts. She opened it "Oh, my! Jess--it's good news. I made a request on Jack's behalf, at his request, to see if I could find a teaching position for him. The quidditch coach and flying teacher is open. It's his if he wants it! Oh, how wonderful is that! That could not come at a better time for you both! He'll be so excited."

"No," Khaat said, "but go on and let him in, Jack. I'm sure if he isn't trustworthy, we'll take care if it in short order. He did help ward off the deatheaters. So any enemy of a deatheater is a friend of mine. As the old quote goes,' the enemy of my enemy is my friend.'"

"Let me see that," Khaat said, reaching for his injured hand, putting the letter aside for the moment to tend to him. She wrapped the hand gently in both of hers and spoke, "Episkey!" using her wandless magic to tend to him. "Sit," she told him gently,"I'm glad you were here tonight. Thank you. Help yourself to something to drink. There's a large pitcher of hot spiced cider and the other large pitcher has hot cocoa in it." She conjured another mug onto the tray. She picked up the letter and read it. "Nothing new, really," She sighed, "Just your routine death threat. I'm supposed to give up Miseria or they're stating they will kill me and Professor Dent to get to her and then kill her. I did expect this."