Lemon family farm,
Oxfordshire, time TBD
A clear day with highs of ~79*F / 26*C

July had arrived. Ursula's second summer, thus far, sheltering with the Lemon family. Already Ursula was tiring of chores near the height of the season. She wasn’t in a position for many excursions outside of welfare checks, unable to join the school trip across Europe. Her visits with other classmates were seldom. The adult children of James & Mary were sometimes about. Gertie and Hagtha[1] were from Hufflepuff like their mother, and the oldest Roger was a Squib who worked in Camden Town in London.

One way to incentivize Ursula for her chores was letting her see the rare kinds of magical herbs grown at the farm. The second was allowing her assistance on a section of the pumpkin patch where larger, unusually shaped gourds were grown. Ursula hoped to grow a massive pumpkin, bigger than the ones seen around Hogwarts before she was off to school in September.

The weekend cloudiness had broken into brilliant sun-rays, Ursula's olive complexion darkening from time spent outdoors. She strode to a familiar spot in the patch, clad in breathable clothes. A simple pale blue dress over a pair of green shorts, hair tied back with a colorful scarf, and sturdy shoes caked in dirt. A few pumpkins were already close to her size, one with a strange concave shape where she could lean into it like a chair. The pumpkins were pale, faintly orange or green and one almost blue in hue, which would deepen in color as they ripened.

There were no less than three books in her bookbag at any given time, as Ursula pulled out a few to read as she waited. The young witch had nicked one of the old worn paperbacks[2] from Roger’s things, a man of folded paper set ablaze on the cover: Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. The story of a firefighter charged to burn books fascinated the young bookworm, but fiction proved to not catch her interest today after a chapter.

An owl had arrived the other day from her new Head of House, Aurora Hawkins, and for once Ursula was eager to meet a school authority. Ms. Hawkins worked as an auror and sounded very cool! Ursula could brag to the other students on the train who’d have yet to learn of the new professor’s appointment, a glee kept to herself as she nestled into a comfortable seat among the pumpkins.

She kept her eyes peeled toward the skies above the road, watching for any signs of magical transport or apparition to mark Prof. Hawkins arrival. Bradbury’s novel was sandwiched between the larger books on her lap, one of them nonfiction.[3] Ursula didn’t feel like memorizing pages from her school copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, on the bottom of the stack. Zeppelins Over Prague by Eglantine Price-Browne was historical fiction, by an old witch, but her novels always had an appendix in the back that covered the actual history. The first section specified how the disaster in the book was patterned after the 1937 crash of the Hindenburg airship in New Jersey.

1.	Ursula’s internal nicknames for Gertrude and Agatha, as she's a brat
2.	Cleared with Nuri!
3.	Or what passes for it IC in a world with textbooks about magic.

They could see all the way through to the pumpkin patch, from the back door and windows of the kitchen. Ursula was a restless figure under the summer sun.

"Least she's settlin' in alright, yea?" Roger remarked as he dusted the floo off his clothes. "You and da not having trouble?"

The kitchen was the largest room in the farmhouse, which was something of a cottage build with two stories and large windows. It was the only room with a fireplace and held the most memories. Every time he came to visit he was surprised by how little the farmhouse changed. Less junk, maybe, none of his stacks of books or his sisters' sewing projects tripping him up.

The Lemons were poor but they were neat - it meant their home might look a little haggard, with worn out textiles and furniture, but there was still a smidge of propriety. A home his mum wouldn't be ashamed to invited guests into.

       "No, no trouble luv." The witch in question answered, glancing away from the open back door. "Keepin' her busy, we are. Got to, with these sorts."

Roger took of his jacket but didn't join her at the kitchen table. She didn't much resemble him, save for something around the eyes. Mary Lemon had blonde hair, going grey early, and the face of a hardy woman who smiled often.

"You think?" he replied as he went about making a pot of tea. "S'pose you've a point. No point lingering on the bad, if there's bad to be lingered on."

Barely five minutes home and he was already slipping into his old way of speaking. He noticed that the nice tea caddy had been taken down, blue porcelain with purple flowers. "Expecting folk?"

His mum nodded - she'd gone back to watching Ursula through the back door. Roger did the same through the windows. This was the second summer with the girl but he didn't know her much better. 

       "Mm, that new professor's coming by," she explained after a beat, "to check on the young one. They say she was an auror."

He quickly lowered his gaze, checking on the stove. It was hard to hear 'auror' and not think of Raine, who he frequently saw in her red robes at Hiraeth.

"Good luck to the kid." Roger muttered, nearly cut off by the whistle of the kettle.

As he took it off the fire he glanced up again. "Speak o' the devil."

The address hadn't been too difficult to obtain with the paper trail between the Ministry and Hogwarts itself following Ursula's unusual journey through the system thus far in life. From the case file on being found, the hag attack, the various locations she'd been thus far, leads on her blood parentage, her enrollment at the prestigious wizarding school, and her continued trek through fostered care, Aurora had hoped sending an owl was polite enough before her actual arrival.

The fireplace flared green around her, momentary disorientation and the tumbling of travel solidifying into a pleasant, almost tranquil setting as the former auror got her bearings. Much like Roger had, a standard of floo travel, she first concerned herself with straightening her posture and brushing the soot from her neatly done bob of hair and formal robes. Not only was she a guest here, but this meeting was semi-formal at the least, and in her capacity as a professor no less, so she'd decided to dress the part. A dark blue, smooth-collared number neatly buttoned at the neck and wrists flowed into a dress bottom that dangled just off tidy, black shoes.

Sure of her appearances, the next step was to locate the Lemon's themselves, her smile immediate and warm when her gaze settled on Roger and his mother. "Mrs. Lemon? Apologies if floo was not how you were expecting me, but I did not wish risk any sort of disturbance outside by apparition or broom. Professor Aurora Hawkins. And this must be... Roger?"

Through all her formality, she did manage to take a few steps forward then, at least away from the fireplace itself, and even let her eyes drift out the window to the pumpkin patch. But that was cursory, and habits from childhood kept her attention largely on her hosts until bade otherwise at their discretion. "A lovely home you have, and those gourds are impressive, intimidating even."

Book burners, magical herbs, and burning zeppelins. Ursula's scattered focus didn't help her expectations for this new professor. Having only heard she was law enforcement, yet taking the title of Head of Slytherin along with her first year of teaching Defense, suggested the image of a mighty witch for the young student.

An awareness that had her thoughts skipping the obvious as she continued to watch the boundaries, no longer reading. How would a former auror arrive? On the fastest model of koště? A specially assigned přenášedlo like a badge or tie pin? If she was that notable of a career auror, surely Prof Hawkins could complete her přemisťování with a flourish. Even though it was some years since dwelling in Czechia, Ursula was used to that country's law enforcement typically coming to the door out of politeness.[1]

Stowing the books back in her bag, Ursula stood only to slump over another enlarged pumpkin. Her gaze was outwards, rather than towards the farmhouse, where she might have noticed a dissipating green wisp of smoke from the Floo use. Her mind was abuzz with potential first impressions, as she kicked her feet behind her. What should she ask the professor first? Should she recite something from her school text? Show off her pumpkin's progress or her pet rat?

"Lolmis?" Hadn't her rat been following her among the squashes? Bag hanging over her left shoulder, she meandered throughout the patch, calling the name of her variegated rat a few times. Taking longer to return than the adults likely expected. Finally fed up, with one last look towards the road, Ursula opened the back door to where she knew Mary Lemon was prepping tea.

"When was she comi--?" The question died on her lips, seeing Mary and Roger talking to a blonde, sharply featured woman smartly dressed in blue. An unintended pause as Ursula stood at the door, which also emphasized the full extent of her prosthetic arm holding it open.

(Mild CW for amputation, depiction of injury)
The straps of Ursula's dress were thin, unlike her school clothes which had longer sleeves. Revealing how her wooden limb was similar to a branch from the magical tree from which it was carved. It was anchored to the stub remaining by her right shoulder with short, root-like sections. Most of the old scar tissue was covered, although the longest snaked away from where the resin treated wooden grain met the skin of her flesh.

(End CW)
Ursula pursed her lips, more embarrassed from the awkward moment of introduction than how she would look to a stranger. Of course, she'd missed the newly minted professor's arrival by Floo. What everyone, from children like her to squibs like Roger could use. How pedestrian. Banal.

But Ursula was a young girl who also minded her first impressions. She crossed her arms in front of her, at the wrists, her mouth twisting into her biggest smile. "Dobrý den![2] You must be Professor Hawkins?"

1.	Utilizing a List of Wizarding Terms in Translations of Harry Potter to go along with google translations. For this paragraph in order are "broom", "portkey" and "apparition" used for the Czech editions.
2.	A greeting, ie "Good day!"

He didn't miss a beat, and started brewing tea from the nice caddy as soon as they clocked the professor arriving by floo. It was a strong black tea - better quality than the stuff his mum drank on the daily, which made him feel guilty; he ought to be sending her money for nicer tea, or just sending her tea.

His mum was on her feet right away, going to greet the blonde woman who seemed too new for their farmhouse; how she would look in a castle Roger couldn't imagine.

       "Please, please sit," Mary gestured. "And yes, this is my eldest, he comes by from time to time."
"That I do," he looked up from the tea pot, winking at the witch. "Don't mind me."

Ursula graced them with her presence not long after. Like most kids, she was a wee bit awkward and in her own little world. He liked kids well enough but even the clever ones were... kids.

Mary's gaze shifted from child to professor, laughter in her eyes. "That's hello, or good day, in Czech," she clarified for Hawkins. "I been learning, little here and there."

Roger smiled to himself, proud of his mum for trying. She always surprised him.

"How'd you take it, mi-- Professor?" he shook the tea strainer a little and dropped it into the sink before glancing at the three witches. "And you, Ursula? Milk, wassit?"

Standing neatly, Aurora made note now of how much a mistake it might have been to come without her cane. But first impressions meant more to her than a little comfort. And, at only a few short days since her time with Waverly and the kelp, she was blaming the latter almost entirely for making her forget the pain and giving it reason to come back that much stronger once she had fully sobered up. Still, a clear mind was paramount here, much as appearing as flawless as she was able. Nothing less would do for one of her students.

"Thank you kindly, Mrs. Lemon. Pleasure to meet you both, and the tea smells divine, Roger." All internal monologue about her performance thus far evaporated and the offered seat was taken, slow and deliberate. When her hands were fully visible, ready to cross neatly and rest on the table at the wrists, she set down a small satchel before her first. "I hope you don't mind, I brought gifts. Primarily for Ursula, but you two are more than welcome, a nice assortment from Honeydukes."

'Speak, and they shall come.' Though she didn't stand, Aurora offered the child her full attention and a smile of greeting. "Perfect timing, Miss Strougler. I hope I can count on such punctuality in my classes come fall?" Might her teasing be lost on a child? Maybe, but she hadn't interacted too much with wixes Ursula's age much in more recent years, so she could at least test the waters while it was only one critic rather than a whole room full.

"Dobrý den, Ursula. And milk will do nicely, thank you, Roger." Moving her hand to the satchel, not having to dig for more than a few seconds, she pulled out a very familiar, pentagonal box in blue and gold[1] and offered it to Ursula. "I heard a rumor you enjoyed these. When I was your age, I think my greatest ambition was to be on one of those cards some day."

Smile wide, but not trying too hard she hoped, again Aurora waited to see how her olive branch was received. "I was just telling your caretakers how lovely this cottage is. Did you help grow some of those pumpkins yourself?"

1.	A chocolate frog, just in case anyone still had doubts!

Ursula opened her mouth to continue but Mrs. Lemon spoke the translation at the ready. She smiled, pleased at the responses thus far, since she wasn't getting stares from the visiting professor. Wixkind had people of its own who had missing body parts, like a replacement eye or limb. She could tell when people were just staring at her prosthetic, not her, even with the partially kinetic model she wore out in muggle public.

"I doubt you're going to be a boring professor, Ms Hawkins," Ursula took a seat. At Roger's question for tea she asked for milk, although noticing the telltale packaging of the sweet the tip of her tongue darted across her lips in anticipation of chocolate. "Extra milk, please, Rodg." Yet another nickname that she had for those in the Lemon family.

"Maybe you've done something card worthy already. Like a major arrest or something," she clutched the offered prize with twig-like fingers arched over the table like a cage, as if the frog inside would take its leap before the box was opened.

"Yes! It takes a lot of fertilizing to make big dýně.[1] You can also trim the vines so one feeds sugar water out of a jug, to help them get big."

1.	Lookup indicates dýně is commonly used for pumpkin as the fruit, while tykev is used for gourds or squash. Dýňový looks to fit a descriptive use, like pumpkin patch, flavor, color or appearance.

"Comin' right up ladies," he replied obligingly, tipping milk into their respective mugs. "And a bit of sugar for ye, mum."

Though not too much sugar. It wasn't good for her, all that sugar. Roger was forever campaigning for his parents to take their tea plain now that they were getting on, though they weren't all that old for wixes.

He balanced the three mugs shakily as he brought them over while Ursula was talking.

       "Yes, she's taken an interest in the farm," Mary added in a pleased voice. "Darling, biscuits?"

Roger saluted his mum, which earned him a soft snort. Really he was happy to be of help - all this they could have done just as easily with a wave of their wands so he knew it was for his benefit that Ma asked him to do anything when there were guests.

"You've given up that ambition then?" he asked the professor as he returned to the kitchen counter and got the biscuit jar out of the high cabinet.

"Well thank you for that vote of confidence, Ursula. I think you're right though, lessons I have planned thus far? Boring will be the furthest thing from any student's mind, regardless of the rest of their reception." She'd smile all the same at the girl, thanking Roger with a silent movement of her lips, a hand settling against the base of her cup between her thumb and index finger.

"Has she now? Getting a head start in your herbology education then? Not my best subject, I'll admit. I'll give you two guesses as to what that was." She'd wink at Ursula then, her smirk warm as she turned her gaze to regard Roger and his comment on her ambitions, laughing softly.

"As Ursula suggested, Mr. Lemon, I simply figured out that such an honor comes with doing great things. I'm more... focused now, is all. Worked for me at the Ministry, we shall see if that holds up at Hogwarts, hm? Lucky me, the DADA curse was broken some time ago." She'd finally lift her cup then, sip carefully, lady-like even. Maybe she was being too formal with it? But her speech and features were more relaxed, she thought, so it was all balanced nicely.

Regarding Ursula again as her cup set itself neatly down again, it was time for another question of her own. Back and forth, that seemed best. "Speaking of best subjects, or perhaps favorites? What are yours, Ursula? And do those two categories align for you?"

Ursula slowly rotated the box, contemplating on opening it now or later. The conversation was plenty engaging, not in need of catching the one good leap form the frog. She'd eat the chocolate on occasion, but there wasn't anyone to trade the treat with given Mary was watching her sugar. Ursula liked to savor her frogs, watching them squirm.

The young girl didn't see herself living on a farm her all life, although she nodded at the suggestion of herbology. "Mr. Doubek showed me a few plants, from my first foster. He was a woodcarver. It's one of the few things a student can learn before wand use is permitted."

Ursula took a sip of her tea. "Yeah, I read about that jinxed position. It sounded annoying, not seeing a Defense professor the next year. I mean, I like learning about Defense like Herbology, yes." Chiefly because you had to learn about the Dark Arts to know how to combat them, her real curiosity was with the former.

She got ready to open the Chocolate Frog box. "I was signing up for Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Divination this year."

He felt like he was getting old, listening to the way Professor Hawkins spoke. To Ursula she probably sounded like a teacher, aye, but to Roger she was no different than any fetching lass who strolled into the Billy Goat looking for something to soften their edges.

He set down a plate of rich tea biscuits and a bit of the Battenberg cake that had been in the icebox.

"Divination..." Roger whistled and then laughed. "You'll be reading our palms, come Christmas."
       "Forgive him," his mum smiled dryly at their guest. "Roger's not one for seeing into the future."

Squib as he might be, even he knew it wasn't exactly an accurate science. The sort of thing wixes need a gift for to get anywhere and even then, well, was anything guaranteed?

He took his own mug and sat at the table next to Mary, shrugging in good humour. "Nah, Urs should go for it. Just me, personally, I don't like to know what's coming."

       "I think it's a sensible selection, dear." Mary told the kid, in much the way she'd told Gertie and Agatha when they chose their electives. "Took Creatures and Divination myself, as a Hufflepuff. Always stay curious, that's what I think."

Roger grinned at her, fond. No arguing against that.

"Good! Good. I think I was always destined for the Ministry, what with my chosen backups being charms and transfiguration. Anything that gave me an excuse to practice with my wand, let me duel other students..." She'd find herself shooting Ursula a little wink, before the topic turned to electives that was.

Now, her features morphed into something more thoughtful, considering the girl. But then Roger and Mary added, changed how she was going to respond, opting in that time to drain more of her tea. "All... interesting. I won't sit here as a professor and discourage you, Ursula, but... did not take divination myself. Much like Roger here, I didn't like to put things up to fate or prophecy. Had enough of that in Mr. Potter's shadow, hm? And besides, we're Slytherin's after all. We make our own fate."

She'd find herself smiling again, but no less warm than before, giving Mary a noticeable nod. "You have the right of it, Mrs. Lemon. Curiosity is always healthy, no matter what the dark wixen might tell you when you catch them with their trousers down."

Clearing her throat, she fought down another knowing look at Ursula, trying to remember why she was here and what she represented to this girl. If she was still around in 3 or 4 years, then she could worry about recruiting her favorites for auror training, but Ursula was not exactly ready to take her N.E.W.T.'s, so... she'd start smaller.

"Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do when you graduate then? Never too early to focus your studies, you know."

Ursula scrunched her nose at Roger. "Maybe I'll come back for Christmas just to check the short length of your love line."

Although Ursula tried to take most of her holidays at Hogwarts when she could manage it. A magical castle was more attractive on paper than a snow covered farm waiting out the season. Although the Lemons had a good turnout for holiday parties, or if something interesting was set at the neighboring town of Woodstock.

She had Mary's support for electives, as did her new Head of House. The conversation distracted her from opening the Chocolate Frog as more tasty treats were brought to the tea table. "Durmstrang has quite extensive models for Divination, I've heard. It's within their Tangibles Discipline. Doubek's niece bragged she tested early for aptitude," Ursula didn't refer to the girl as a foster sister, avoiding her name. Nor did she realize how dubious her next words sounded. "The have better accuracy studying shapes in smoke, because of the burning wood. If you really want to get far in Divination it's about what you sacrifice to achieve your vision."

"Did you actually meet Harry Potter?" Ursula asked excitedly, a bright smile on her face, without a thought to whether Ms. Hawkin's age was close enough to be a peer. "His card's been reissued three times. Lolmis, that's my pet rat, should be around here somewhere. He's got the same zig-zig pattern in his fur like the scar Potter had on his forehead."

Although an advanced reader, Ursula wasn't too set on careers as her 3rd year at Hogwarts ticked closer. "I'll be a nastily cunning witch until I can think of a better job title."

He helped himself to a tea biscuit, listening with interest to the description of Durmstrang stuff. Roger had met a few blokes from Durmstrang, mostly back when he was dealing on the down low, so he knew the long and short of it compared to his sisters' stories of Hogwarts.

Urs was a tough kid but he was pretty sure she wouldn't have made it in a place like that. Roger was glad his mum took the little witch in.

"Potter's not all that..." Roger snorted before he could help himself. "S'all talk these days, aurors."

Mary nudged his knee under the table and he remembered himself, glancing apologetically at Hawkins. "Me mate Raine's an auror," he clarified.

And then, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness, Roger turned back to Ursula.

"She's a nastily cunning witch, she is," he grinned, biting into his tea biscuit. "No better vocation, you ask me."

"Well, Ursula, if you believe you can excel at the subject, who am I to dissuade? I prefer sacrifice to achieve tangible goals instead, but let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, hm?"

Then she'd find herself chuckling lightly. Between Ursula's question and Roger's casual response, she'd find herself grinning between them, brows raising softly when Roger mentioned Raine. The young witch first though. "No, afraid not. Was his seventh year, my first. And most of our housemates had an... unfavorable view of Potter."

Never mind all that baggage for her, the fights, the bullying, the vindictiveness with which she'd gotten her revenge as a Prefect in later years. She simply moved on to more pleasurable thoughts. "I know Raine, yes! Real firecracker, Red, hm? A good auror." The interaction between him and his mother got another little smile, but all of her attention returned to Ursula without further ado.

The confession of her... job title got a little nod out of Aurora, bemused little smirk mostly tempered. "Well, should certainly fit right in to our house, shouldn't you? Nastily cunning witch... I like it. You mind if I borrow the title for myself from time-to-time? Perhaps if I run detention, hm?" There was a wicked little grin there as she finally let herself recline some, hands neatly laid on the table in front of her.

"And what does a nastily cunning witch do when not engaged in her studies? Just so I can accurately play the part, you understand."