The next morning, Anne got out of bed at the orphanage and had already pushed yesterday's long chat with Hermione to the back of her mind. After all, the most important things today were meeting Jill and going home.
Once she was up, Anne packed all her belongings again. She kept the small blue box and her plot notebook on her at all times, those were her most important items. On the desk were some old elementary school notebooks, three years' worth of memories. She packed them neatly into a corner; those too, she would be taking with her. From the drawer, she retrieved a small copper bell, Jill's birthday gift to her, though it was now broken. Fortunately, now that she could use magic, fixing it would be a matter of a single spell.
As for her clothes, she left them all behind. Most of the resources at the orphanage, clothing, school supplies, came from donations. These things were better left for others who needed them.
After packing, Anne went to find Jill. They spent the entire afternoon talking. Originally, Anne had planned to return to the orphanage by noon for lunch, but when Jill heard she was leaving, she burst into tears and wouldn't stop. Anne had no choice but to stay and comfort her. She even ended up having lunch at Jill's home. It wasn't until Anne repeatedly promised to write her letters and never forget her that she was finally able to leave.
Although Jill had disrupted Anne's plan to explain things properly to the headmistress, Odette, Anne didn't blame her at all. On the way back, she couldn't help but reflect on her three years of elementary school. Because she was small and cute, she was often teased by the boys in her class, pranks from the moment she walked in until the final bell. Even with her adult mind, her child-sized body had its limitations. Jill had been the one to stand up for her back then. That rare friendship had once brought her great comfort. Odette and Miss Ida from the orphanage were kind as well, but with over a hundred orphans to care for, they were more like well-meaning elders than close companions.
Back at the orphanage, Anne gave a simple explanation to Odette: that her Uncle Aaron was a kind man who had noticed her strong academic performance and wanted to adopt her (as per the Muggle paperwork). He would be arriving at 4:00 p.m. to complete the adoption, and they had already spoken and agreed it was a good match.
Odette was initially surprised but quickly became genuinely happy that Anne had met someone kind at school. When Aaron arrived and even offered a donation to the orphanage (which Anne had suggested, exchanging wizarding currency for pounds at Gringotts), Odette gratefully completed the paperwork.
Aaron loaded Anne's luggage into the car, and she waved goodbye to the headmistress before hopping in. As they drove away, she turned to Aaron with a beaming smile.
"Uncle Aaron, this is amazing! I can't wait to see our home!"
Aaron reached over to ruffle her hair. "I hope you'll like the house."
"I'm sure I will!" Anne squinted happily at the road ahead.
Aaron drove into the city, weaving through streets before pulling up in a narrow two-lane road. On one side stood rows of townhouses, and on the other were fenced-in yards with trees and grass, some fenced with wooden slats, others with brick walls. Parking spaces were marked along the curb by the houses, while the lane by the yards was reserved for through traffic.
London's urban planning really was impressive. They hadn't encroached on private property, and traffic still flowed on these old, narrow streets.
But Aaron, ever the wizard, grumbled. He magically held the steering wheel in place and muttered, "These Muggles and their rules! You have to park exactly inside these tiny little rectangles…"
Anne ignored his complaints, her eyes already locked on the house across the street. The exterior walls were painted white, though some peeling paint on the third floor revealed the red brick beneath. The three-story townhouse stood between two others. The front door, thick and dark like something off Baker Street, had a brass plaque: Number 12. Four wood-framed windows flanked the door on the first floor, but with the curtains drawn, it was impossible to see inside.
After they parked, Aaron handed Anne the key and told her to open the door while he fetched her things from the trunk. She eagerly accepted, running to the door and looking up at the house's facade. She inserted the key into the lock below the handle and turned it open.
Inside was a typical British foyer, narrow and warm, with a heavy coat rack of dark wood. But before she could admire much else, a high-pitched voice suddenly came from the living room.
"Welcome home, Master Aaron!"
Anne jumped. A small, skinny creature with bat-like ears and bulging eyes like ping pong balls stood in front of her. With a long, flat nose and dressed in a ragged burlap vest, it was a house-elf. He was a head shorter than Anne and looked just as startled by her as she was by him.
The elf quickly bowed. "Oh! Miss Reeve, Or wasn't trying to scare you! Or just wanted to greet Master Aaron and Miss Reeve!"
Realizing what he was, Anne relaxed slightly. Just then, Aaron entered carrying her things and looked over.
"Oh! I forgot to tell you, that's Orbie, the house-elf. He handles all the chores around here."
Orbie beamed and bowed again, clearly pleased by the introduction.
Anne tilted her head. "Uncle Aaron, I read in a book that house-elves usually belong to old, wealthy wizarding families. How come you have one? And why does he call you Master Aaron?"
Aaron instructed Orbie to take Anne's things upstairs, then walked with her to the cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. Sitting down in an armchair, he smiled.
"Well, Anne, it's a long story. Basically, I, Aaron Hall, come from an old French wizarding family: the Hall family. My branch is part of the British side of that family."
He paused, trying to explain in a way a child might understand.
"Let's put it this way. A long time ago, all my ancestors were French. But as the family grew, some of them moved to England and became a branch family. Later, the main branch back in France went through... some bad times."
"Was it war? Like World War I or II? We learned about that in history class," Anne asked.
Aaron blinked, then nodded. "Yes, something like that. Muggles talk about war with little kids already? That's... something."
Before he could digress further, Anne brought him back. "So, what happened next?"
"Ah, right. Later, the French side had fewer people left, so they started calling in young children from across Europe, branch family kids, to come study at the main estate. It was this big manor and castle... just a little smaller than Hogwarts. It was a wonderful time. We were all the same age, running around making trouble, there was one time we even pranked a very strict elder!"
He laughed sheepishly. "Anyway, those days lasted until we turned eleven, and everyone left for their own wizarding schools. I went to Hogwarts and met your parents. They were brilliant…"
After some reminiscing, he smiled at Anne. "Oh, I just have so many memories I want to share with you!"
"I've been listening closely, Uncle Aaron. But why wasn't Orbie here last time? You didn't mention him."
"Oh, Orbie used to take care of me in France. His family has served the Hall family for generations. I only brought him over recently. Before, I was always traveling for work, so there wasn't much need. But now that you're living here, having Orbie around is perfect." He grinned. "Besides, I'm hopeless at housework."
Anne checked the time. It was already 5:20 p.m. They had arrived around 4:40. Thinking of what Fanny had said about wizarding families, she decided to test him a bit.
"Uncle Aaron, are all wizard families like that? With castles and everything? Do I come from one too? A castle just slightly smaller than Hogwarts sounds amazing!"
Aaron chuckled at her curious tone. "Well, Anne, 'Reeve' isn't really a family name in the magical world. Your father was a talented wizard, sure, but before getting his Hogwarts letter, he lived entirely in the Muggle world and knew nothing about magic. I suspect one of his ancestors may have been a wizard, that would explain why your Uncle Garnet is a Muggle, and why your dad was sorted into Slytherin."
Then Aaron's expression stiffened slightly, but he recovered quickly. "As for your mother, she was an incredibly smart witch too! Anyway, it's getting late. You haven't even seen your greenhouse yet! It's out in the yard. I spent the whole day building it!"
He led Anne through the living and dining rooms to the backyard.
Anne thought to herself: So it really is a secret… something about my mother must not be told. Could it be related to Voldemort? But she quickly dismissed the thought. Never mind. That's still far off in the future. And if anything does happen… there are plenty of taller people to handle it. A kid like me wouldn't be much help anyway.
All those thoughts vanished the moment she laid eyes on the small greenhouse in the corner of the yard. Her love for magical plants won out in the end.
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A/N: This chapter is a bit of a transition, just filling in some of Aaron's backstory.
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