Let the Past be Rewritten (Joanna)

This had been a mistake. A terrible, horrible, calamitous mistake. Gabriella leaned against the wall in Diagon alley, tears streaming down her face and panting for breath, the contents of her small shopping back on the ground around her feet where she’d dropped it, breathing heavily. She’d been practicing apparating again, but had taken a broom to the small wizarding community near Schull and gotten her dress maker to agree to let her use the floo network there. Everything had gone fine until that point. She was doing well. She’d left the estate, for the first time in four years, without Dermod. And no matter what it cost her, she was absolutely going to buy his christmas present, and then head home. She’d chosen the afternoon, on a weekday, while everyone was working and hopefully things would be nowhere near as crowded as they could have been. It was, after all, december, and other last minute shoppers would be out and about as well.

Of course it didn’t work out that way, and the bookstore she’d found herself in, though not her usual one, for that one appeared to be closed on Wednesdays now, had proved to be such a distraction, enjoying looking through titles and smelling the pages, that she hadn’t noticed it getting more and more crowded until someone justled into her from behind, before snapping at her to be more careful. Really she’d been standing perfectly still, reading the back cover of a book. But when she looked up to say so, she realized that the narrow shelves had far too many people in it for her liking, and had begun to panic. Feeling the tears welling up in her eyes and not wanting to embarrass herself in public, Gabriella had fled quickly.

Which was how the welshwoman had found herself having a panic attack in an alley off Diagon, shaking her head at her own foolishness. She wasn’t ready for crowds and people yet. And what if someone recognised her? What if the man who had tried once to kill her family was also out christmas shopping? And here she was, alone in an alley, too freaked out to even get her wand out of her pocket. That did the exact opposite of help her calm down. But she had to get out of here quickly. She snatched up her bag, picking up the myriad of gifts she’d already purchased and brushing them off as best she could, making sure they weren’t wet, or damaged in any way before putting them back in her bag, still shaking. It wasn’t till her hand came to rest on a book, that she realized what had happened.

In her desperation to flee, Gabriella, retired cat burglar and book thief, had accidentally shoplifted a book. She’d have to return it. She’d been right near the counter when it happened, so there was a good chance that the store owner had seen her. Not that it mattered. She would have returned it anyways on principle, even if hers were slightly skewed. And that was when she heard footsteps coming down the alley where she was, still trembling and obviously in some state of distress.

There was nothing worse than Christmas. Sure, the merry atmosphere was sometimes infectious, but more often than not it was just a time of stress, bad weather and ridiculous call outs. Everyone would be surprised at the amount of Ministry intervention that was required to mediate family disputes and other petty crimes over the festive period. For a season that was meant to promote peace and goodwill to all men there was not much evidence that that message had ever really permeated with the British wizarding community. So while some would count maids-a-milking, swans-a-swimming and geese-a-laying on their twelve days of Christmas, Joanna instead counted drunks-a-drinking, spouses-a-squabbling and robbers-a-robbing.

Children weren’t even half way through opening their advent calendars yet and Joanna was over Christmas 2002. All she wanted for Christmas was for the whole thing to be done. And while she did still have annual leave to take, she was, blessing or curse, too dedicated to leave her department in the lurch like that. Plus, who else was willing to work Christmas Day itself? Other people had families and children to celebrate with. It was doubtful that her dad would even bother to drag himself out of bed on the 25th, really it was better if she worked.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and Joanna was on patrol of Diagon Alley to deal with the increased risk of anti-social behaviour with the Christmas crowds. This was another part of Christmas that she despised. Presents. Joanna was self admittedly rubbish at gift giving. Who really knew what someone else wanted? And surely, the process would be a lot simpler if the population collectively as a whole decided to donate to charity instead and just buy themselves items they actually wanted. Over the years she had received many an unnecessary gift and presented too many people with the generic alcohol and chocolates option after despairing over the other options. And was it nice to be worrying about how someone else would react to what you picked out for them? No. What if she offended them with her choice? What if she got them something they already had? What if she spent less than they spent on her?

But, apparently, other people did not feel the same way she did given the amount of shoppers dashing from shop to shop, laden with bags. There were revellers spilling out from a pub, howling for more when the band finished playing. Mistletoe hung in doorways and arches for people to see, with seemingly every couple trying to stop. Eurgh, Joanna certainly did not wish it could be Christmas everyday. At least the weather reflected her own feelings on the matter. The snow was not deep and crisp and even but instead a slushy, grey wet mess with ominous dark clouds hovering above.

A jingling bell cut through the noise to alert her to a potential problem and Joanna quickly pulled the tracker out her pocket. The DMLE had given each business a alert system to connect them to the patrols on Diagon Alley during this busy period. It was easier to cast a simple spell to alert the nearby law enforcement officers than to find time to floo or owl the Ministry and await a response. Pushing through the shoppers, only pausing for a moment when she heard someone holler stop (just incase it was another incident), she quickly reached the source of the alert. A bookshop.

A shop assistant was waiting for her and quickly told her that a woman had shoplifted a book and had run down the nearby alley. Joanna took off quickly after, thanking Merlin that the particular alley was protected by an anti-apparition spell set up by the over zealous security in the jewellers that backed onto it. And sure enough, there was the woman described leaning against the wall.

“Ma’am?” Joanna called out as she approached, wand raised, “Magical Law Enforcement, I’m going to need you to come with me.” She was not in the mood for any funny business today. She didn’t want to hear another sob story about how the thief had not meant to shoplift and they were sorry blah blah blah. Yes, sorry they had been caught. So this woman better watch out. She better not cry, she better not pout. Christmas may be coming, but Joanna was not filled with Christmas spirit. And as far as she was concerned, stealing a book meant a spot on the naughty list.

She heard the voice, certainly, the woman had spoken clearly and loudly, but for gabriella, it all sounded garbled at first. She was still crouched down, trying to put her purchased parsels back into her bag with shaking hands. Tear trails with streaks running down her face. She straightened up slowly, still holding the offending book in her hand, standing barely above five foot tall in her flats and shaking like a leaf as she stared blankly, with some measure of fear and confusion at the woman, before her mind had finally processed what she had said.

Gabriella looked down at the book she was holding, then back at the woman, trying to calm her panicked breathing, before realizing she’d left one of the small packages containing one of Rhiannon’s gifts for her stocking on the ground, carefully picking it up and putting it in the bag as well.  She was a mess, and everything was going so wrong… and now the Ministry was here. It had to be over the book. Gabriella couldn’t imagine it was anything else. Well she could, considering her father, the fire… Kevan… but she refused to think that could be what was going on here. No no no it was so long ago, and she was innocent. She had nothing to do with any of their actions. The book. It had to be the book.

“I… I’m sorry…. There was just… so many people… I couldn’t breathe… I didn't even realize...” she looked down at the book again, making sure it wasn’t damaged. “I just realized i still… was holding it… I was going to head back… as soon as I could stand...” she was still leaning somewhat on the wall, her head spinning when she’d tried to straighten up. At least it wasn’t a murderer. It could have been. “I shouldn’t have come out… I should have waited… till he could come with me… I just...” the tears were starting again. She didn’t want to cry.

“I was going to…. The crowds… its too much… I was fine, earlier…. It wasn’t so busy… I didn’t mean to… accident.” the welsh witch sounded like she was going to start hyperventilating again, holding her arms tightly against herself, back against the wall.

The woman was hyperventilating. Great. That certainly made Joanna’s job a whole lot harder. She still listened with a sympathetic smile as she approached the woman, and eventually conjured a tissue with her wand. “Here, take this,” Joanna said with a kindly, even tone. The witch was too busy crying to run away. And Joanna certainly could not be seen as accosting a vulnerable person. The Ministry were in the bad books of the press anyway, imagine the field day the Prophet would have with that.

So instead of hurrying the witch along, and informing her that she had places to be so could she please have her emotional breakdown in her own time thank you very much, Joanna allowed her to cry it out. “Ssh, focus on breathing,” she informed her helpfully, “deep breath in, deep breath out.” If this woman calmed down then it would make the whole thing so much easier for the both of them. Of course, Joanna, selfish as it may seem, was mainly interested about how to make it easier for herself. After all, the other woman was only shopping, she had less of a deadline than Joanna’s job did.

She listened to the woman’s jagged words and began to piece parts of the story together. Clearly the witch couldn’t handle crowds and had not been expecting the Christmas rush. Seriously though, not expecting Diagon Alley to be busy in December? That was certainly a rookie move. Joanna did begin to feel slightly sympathetic though. Who knew what the woman had gone through to be scared of crowds? Certainly the war had left scars on everyone, even ones that weren’t necessarily physical. Damn it, this was going to take some time, wasn’t it?

“Just breathe,” she repeated, watching closely to see if the witch was beginning to calm down. “If it’s been a misunderstanding then all we need to do is go fill out a form and then you can be on your way.” Joanna paused, and realised she may have to provide further assurances. “And we’ll have a private room so there will be no crowds to worry about.” There was a reason Joanna hated talking to victims or victim’s families. How do you get people to stop crying? It always made her feel so uncomfortable and useless.

“Ma’am?” Joanna tried again, “did you hear me?” Oh Merlin, she really didn’t want this to feel like she was talking to a leaking brick wall. “Can I please get the book?” Joanna glanced at the heavy looking tome. “Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires,” she quoted, “do you like Eldred Worple?” Personally she had never read the autobiography, but honestly, who in their right mind wanted to hang out with soulless blood-sucking creatures?

A tissue was thrust into her face, and gabriella took it shakily. Perhaps a brown paper bag would have been a better offering, but the welsh woman was slowly calming down, and used the tissue to dab at her eyes, if only to dry the tears that had refused to spill. The other woman’s voice was firm and commanding, but not hostile, walking her through breathing which also helped a great deal. It was strangely comforting to have someone there with her, even if she didn’t know this woman who seemed to know just the right things to say to help the Welsh witch calm down. Her breathing was getting much better now, and she nodded along with what the woman was saying. Right. It made sense. It was all a mistake. A misunderstanding. A simple form.

“Wait… go where? I mean… I can just give the book back...” she handed the book to Joanna hastily, as though it was toxic, before pulling her coat tighter around herself. “I don’t… I’ve never even read any of her books. I just thought the cover was interesting and wanted… I hadn’t even read the title when i picked it up.” she shook her head. “I was looking for a gift for my step daughter. But that… that wouldn’t interest her at all.” she was calming down slowly, before taking another deep breath.

“I just… I don’t go out. Ever… not without my husband… but I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to… get better.” she slowly pushed herself off the wall. “I’m very sorry… I know you must be busy with real crimes… I’m so sorry.” Gabriella shook her head. She’d been so foolish thinking that this was a good idea. She should have just waited for Dermod to bring her out. She could have asked him to wait outside if she found something she’d wanted to get for him, or something. Certainly there were ways to do it. She’d bought his birthday present right under his nose after all.

Now calm, Gabriella’s mind went back to what had been said while she was calming down. “Where do we need to go. For the paperwork that is… I just would like to go home.”