It's All About Family

2

The music on her iPod was loud enough to drown out the roar of the riding lawn-mower. She looked to the side and watched her horse raise her head and stare toward the tree line where a man was stepping unsteadily through the line of trees that separated one pasture from the other.

She watched his thin body fail him and collapse to the ground then slide down the slight hill. She watched him skid to a halt near the winged equine and she held her breath and reached toward her hip.

She didn't have her wand on her.

"Shit," she murmured. She tore the thin headphones from her head and cut the engine of the mower. Swinging her leg over the steering wheel, her bare feet hit the ground and she disapparated for her house to retrieve her wand.

Inside, her father was looking over the morning's paper as he sipped on his coffee. "That was quick! You're done already?"

"No..."

"Made you a sammich if you're hungry...eggs and bacon on an english muffin..."

"No thanks..."

"I had one...it was nom," he cooed.

"DADDY!"

"What?"

"Dad," she breathed heavily, "someone passed through the trees..."

Walter Knight's demeanor passed from jovial to incensed in a split second as he skidded out his chair and grabbed his wand that had been a mere few inches from his coffee cup. "Stay here," he told her.

Maybe I can help!?"

"Absolutely not! There is a very good chance that he's a dark wizard! Damn it, the one time you didn't carry your wand! Stay inside!"

"But Dad!"

"Chris, no! Those trees are a barrier of the Umbra--"

Her father disapparated from view with barely a sizzle and she sighed wearily as her father's words seemed to still hang in the air.

"I'm aware of that."

_____

Walter materialized at the fence of the lower pasture beneath the cover of an aged maple tree and peered around it. His daughter's horse was still grazing, apparently not bothered by the intruder's body laying perfectly still near her.

Walter Knight was almost seventy-two and he hopped over the fencing, easily belying his age. With his wand extended, he approached the intruder, ready to blast first and ask questions later. As a retired auror, he understood that he was still on duty even if he wasn't...officially.

The horse raised her head again and nickered as he looked past the winged mare at the man face down in his pasture. He reached out and touched the muscles of her hind end and walked behind her. Walter raised his wand and lifted the man from the ground and suspended him so that he could look at his face. He noticed that the man's wand had slipped from his grasp and he held out his hand, silently calling the wand to him. With the man's wand firmly in his hand, he examined the man's pockets and finding nothing but a few coins and a set of keys, he breathed a little easier until he saw a branding on The stranger's neck which he knew to be an Azkaban prisoner number.

The mare nickered again and he sighed wearily. "I thought I told you to stay indoors?"

"Is he hurt?"

"Chris, I swear! You're going to be the death of me yet!"

"Not if I'm lucky..." She peered around her father's still broad shoulder at the unconscious man. "Look at his clothes...they're vintage..."

"You would know..."

She nodded and met her father's glare.

"I wonder who he is?"

Walter shook his head. "No idea. Come on, lets get him inside and see if we can wake him up."

"So, he has a pulse?"

"Erm, actually...I didn't check."

"Oh for god's sake, Dad!" She reached out and took the man's wrist in her hand placing her fingers on the proper pressure points to count the pops. "He's weak Dad," she said with concern. "Come on, lets get him inside like you said. He's dehydrated as hell. Gonna need an IV ringer."

"Good thing you're a mediwitch, huh?"

"Good thing for him, you mean?"

Walter's focus was keen and he guided the man's limp body to the fencing as his daughter waited by the opened gate. From there, they walked in silence for the fifty or so feet to their small unassuming house.

Walter placed the man on the bed in their spare room and stood by as he watched his daughter tend to him. He watched her get the man undressed in a matter of seconds and clean up a spot on the inside of the man's arm and then insert a small plastic catheter and then start an intravenous drip of saline.

"You're too good at that you know," Walter commented dryly.

"Too good at what? My job?"

"No. Undressing him."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then glared at her father. "They teach us how to do this, Dad."

Walter nodded. "I know..."

He watched her gather up the man's clothing and remove his personal effects. She held up a coin. "He's English, Dad. Look. A galleon."

"I know what their coins look like, Kiddo."

"Poor guy. He looks rough. Wonder what happened to him?"

"No telling. But he's sporting some lovely prison tattoos..."

"Okay, so he's been incarcerated. But he's out now, which means he's paid his debt to society."

"Not necessarily. Best not to let Abby see him though. She'll be full of questions..."

Chris nodded. "Well, he needs to be cleaned up, that's for sure. I'll give him a day, then I'll bathe him. If you feel the need to place a sticky charm on him then do it. But this means you'll have to stop what you're doing whenever I have to check on him..."

"Do you have to?"

"What? Clean him up? You want him stinking up the room? I sure as hell don't!" She bundled up his clothing and headed for the door, checking the status of the IV set up on her way out.

Walter followed her down the stairs after having locked the man inside the room.