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Annie (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Anne Sallow x M!MC Rating: PG Content Warning: Mention of parents’ death, mention of attempted homicide Word Count: 2.9K Summary: It was the end of spring before the 5th year of Hogwarts started. Anne Sallow became close to a boy who delivered her potions every week. Jonah Wilkinson was an American muggle-born, adopted by a family who lived a few villages away. She took comfort in his presence, but things changed after the summer began and Sebastian came home. Author's Note: This is my first published HL fic. I love Anne and hate Solomon lol. English is my third language. Details about my MC Jonah here https://www.tumblr.com/alibasnur/747796751465988096/jonah-wilkinson-hl-mc?source=share

The pain was excruciating. No matter how often they had appeared, Anne could never get used to it. She dropped to the floor, and the uncooked vegetables for her supper were scattered.

She sat there for a minute, holding the side of her abdomen for relief. She was left alone in the house, and the pain turned her cold with sweat, even with the warmth coming from the fireplace.

She didn't notice a knock coming from her door at that moment. But that person behind the door surely heard her cry and excused himself into the house.

"Miss Sallow..?” A concerned voice approached, it was boyish, youthful sounding.

“My goodness! What happened?" She heard his footsteps rushing to her side with a hint of panic in his voice, and then she could see his face when she looked up.

She almost mistook her for Ominis Gaunt, but with freckles on his face that softened his features, deep brown eyes with a seemingly functioning sight, and red-brown hair that stuck out of his hat.

She took the hand that he offered, as she had no luxury to pay attention to the fact that she didn't know his name.

His arms lifted her with ease, which was a bit of a surprise since he didn't look the age to have that strength. She limped to her usual seat in her cottage house.

Swiftly, the boy picked up the vegetables she dropped on the floor. Anne almost felt bad for letting him do so, and for being in a poor state at their first meeting.

The pain ceased and it dawned on her who he might be. She was expecting a potion delivery from Mrs. Wilkinson, the healer from another village.

"Thank you." Anne was still seated when he put the basket of vegetables on the table.

"Don't worry, miss Sallow." The boy smiled. He grabbed the satchel he left on the floor, and took out a few bottles of potions for her.

"Just Anne, please.”

"Alright, Anne.” He was a bit hesitant to call a customer so familiarly at first. But it sounded more natural for them, given their similarity.

“Are you the Wilkinson boy?”

“Yes, I’m Jonah, Jonah Wilkinson." Jonah smiled.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble finding our address.."

"No, it wasn't. And the journey was nicer than I had expected. From what I heard, I thought I might have to take another route. But it turned out it was alright.”

"I'm glad.. the loyalists have been a concern for people who visit the hamlet."

Anne felt relieved to know that she didn't unintentionally put Jonah in danger.

“Do sit down, I have heard about you. I heard that you came from America, I'd like to hear more about it." As soon as she felt at ease, her usual talkativeness came back.

“It’s true, my parents are muggles, I couldn't stay with them so the Wilkinsons took me in.”

He took a seat facing her and felt comfortable enough to tell his journey that he felt welcomed.

“It must be hard getting used to the Wizarding World.”

“It was, at first. But I can manage.”

The Wizarding World. If Mister Wilkinson had only met him on the street and told him about its existence, Jonah would think that he was a madman.

They met in an Asylum, when Jonah overheard the staff preparing for his euthanization, by the decision of Dr. Barebone, saying that children of magical ancestry like him shouldn't live long enough to pass their blood.

“Have you heard the name Barebone?”

“They are descended from Scourers, aren’t they? I’ve heard from Professor Binns in my History of Magic class.”

It was no wonder words had spread about them in Britain. They were considered a big problem to the American wizards.

“Yes. I met one of them, they are the reason why I can’t stay with the muggles.”

“They hated wizards, didn't they? Did.. did they do bad things to you?”

“Well, unfortunately. They said it was part of the treatment. I went to their Asylum, you see.. a mental hospital. I was seeing magical creatures and my family thought I was mentally ill.”

They put him through several treatments, not sure if they were even necessary. One day, they decided it was time to put him to sleep forever and send words back to his family that he died due to an accident.

Mister Wilkinson came to his rescue before it was too late, he went through an ordeal to be able to adopt him. He had been grateful for his current life, although his experience with the Barebones still gave him nightmares sometimes.

“I can’t imagine what you went through. And I’m sorry that you have to separate from your family, you must have missed them..”

Jonah didn’t deny her assumption, he did miss his family. Fortunately, Mister Wilkinson occasionally looked into their life when he visited America, just to let Jonah know that they were safe.

Mister Wilkison said that he would put himself and the rest of the wizarding world in danger had he stayed. The Ministry obliviated them for the sake of secrecy, and now they had no recollection of their son. Jonah had to accept that bitter reality.

“I do miss them sometimes. But if they are doing well, then I’m happy enough.”

“I’m glad that they are doing fine. I miss mine too sometimes, I lost my parents before I came to Hogwarts.”

Anne stared down, the look in her eyes was of nostalgia rather than grief. But to Jonah, losing one’s parents to death sounded more painful than his own experience. Now it explained why she lived with her uncle.

“Oh, I’m sorry..”

“It happened many years ago, I have come to accept it. But I still remember that they were both professors. If they were alive, I would be one of their students.”

He wished he could relate to talks about being in a Wizarding school. Years had gone by after his 11th birthday and his letter never came to their door.

Jonah's magical sign was too weak, and perhaps that was the reason. He felt bad about himself, as he had no potential to cast a single spell. He might as well go back to live among the muggles.

The Wilkinsons insisted that he stayed, that Jonah was as good as their own. It did put him at ease, and although their sentiments were true, they never admitted the fact that they needed him after all. He had been helpful with the farm, Mrs. Wilkinson’s potion-making, and taking care of Mr. Wilkinson’s aging mother.

Anne had been listening with interest. The skin around her eyes was reddened with months of illness and sleep deprivation, but even then Jonah could see the sense of adventure that she gave off.

She enjoyed living in the Highlands, but it could feel narrow sometimes. If she were to make it, she could see herself sailing across the ocean and to another continent, observing how the wizarding world ran in the new world.

But her uncle seemed to be convinced that almost nothing could be done about her curse, and it killed the remaining hope inside her.

Mrs. Wilkinson's potion was the last resort, and if nothing worked, they would stop trying.

Jonah realized that he had forgotten something when he looked at the uncooked vegetables on the table.

"Were you going to cook something?" His question indicated a bit of worry. He couldn’t help it when he knew an ill patient was still having to busy their hands with a tiresome task.

"Yes. I have spent my days at home since I got sick. Uncle Solomon isn't home yet and my brother is at school. Don't worry, that pain appears at random times. I can still do things normally."

It didn't soothe Jonah to know that her pain could appear any moment, and it could be more disastrous than it was when he just come.

"I can help you." Jonah offered. Perhaps he could stay for a while, at least until her uncle comes back or a meal is prepared for her to eat.

"Oh, no, no! I've troubled you enough! Besides, Uncle Solomon will be back soon, and it's getting dark..." Anne declined, although no one could tell which one would arrive first; her pain, her hunger, or her uncle.

Jonah was reminded that he was supposed to be back before supper. His family at home could start without him, and they would be fine. But he couldn't leave Anne alone, having to lift pots while holding a sharp pain and no one could guarantee her uncle would be there at that moment.

"Just a bit, miss Annie. Just until your uncle comes home." Jonah bargained.

He did not mean it to be rude or weird when that ‘Annie’ slipped out of his tongue. He only meant it to make her feel that he was a friend she could ask for help, that he was comfortable enough to stay, and that it wouldn't be an inconvenience.

Anne didn't seem to mind with that little name, Jonah could see it when she chuckled her resignation.

"Alright, then. Thank you, Jonah. Truly."

"A delivery for Miss Annie?"

Anne hadn't told him that the last time someone called her by that name was when her mother was still alive. But that name sounded natural coming from Jonah's lips, and she didn't find any offense from it, even just one bit.

She certainly didn't mind being Annie to someone as kind and jovial as Jonah. He brought a new light into her life, and Anne often found herself looking forward to his visit.

At a certain time every Tuesday and Friday, her face would light up when she heard a knock and a playful voice pleasantly disturbing her, sending her loneliness at bay.

Sometimes her pain happened to come in his presence. Jonah could only hold her hand and surrender to the helplessness of that moment. Her pain became his, and the joyfulness in his face dimmed as he took in her cry to heart.

He wished he could do more, but had he asked, Anne would say that he did. By being with her, by making sure she wasn't alone, her pain became much more bearable.

Mrs. Wilkinson came to know how Jonah became fond of spending time with her at the Sallow's. She put some buns in his basket for his next delivery. They sat together in the front yard of her cottage house, and she would tell him stories about her day at Hogwarts.

He envied those who had known her before her illness, as they had seen her at the brightest days more than Jonah had.

Her laughter had a pleasant ring in his ear, her playful smiles and cheeky grins, and he would do anything to keep it that way, or much better as if she wasn’t ill.

"School holiday is coming." Her eyes observed the hamlet. "My brother will be home next week. She smiled, but Jonah could see a certain anticipation, as if something could happen and that she could sense it approaching.

"My situation made it tough for him too. He would argue with Uncle Solomon. He insisted on finding my cure, Uncle Solomon always tried to prevent him." He could see how she turned somber as if recalling a bad memory.

"Why would your uncle prevent him?" Jonah wondered.

"He's worried that Sebastian would make things worse..” Anne sighed.

"Well,” Jonah shrugged. "Maybe there is a cure out there." Jonah had never met Sebastian, yet he already agreed with him.

Anne broke her gloom with a chuckle.

"You are starting to sound like Sebastian!”

They both went silent for a while, Jonah's mind had been occupied with many possibilities.

She had been taking potions from Mrs. Wilkinson, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. The only difference was that she gained a new friend in Jonah, and they both enjoyed one another's company.

"It's getting dark," Anne mentioned. "Your mother would be worried." He suddenly remembered about the talk of the town, that the loyalists were building a new camp around his usual route.

"I should be going, then." Jonah stood up, grabbing his cloak and satchel.

"Do be careful, alright?" Anne looked up to him, still seated in her usual spot.

"I'll be back next week.” Jonah walked to the gate. "Take care, Annie.”

She waved as she watched him leave. They departed with a smile.

It wasn’t a goodbye after all. Because next week, they would laugh together again, Jonah would take her down a stroll, and they would enjoy Mrs. Wilkinson's pie while playing wizard's chess together.

The village got livelier again when the schoolchildren came home for the holiday, and Jonah expected the same atmosphere when he arrived at Feldcroft.

The cart stopped not so far from the wall, and Jonah began to see the boys and girls he had never seen before. Some of them helped on the farm, some of them jumped ropes and the others played on the Hopscotch waiting for their turn.

"Our sunflowers are starting to bloom, why don't you pick some? It’s a healing flower, i’m sure your Annie would appreciate them."

His mother's advice never crossed his mind before, he did remember how she smiled when wildflowers were blooming in her little garden.

And now Jonah stood in front of the door, with a bouquet of sunflowers in his right hand and his left one holding a bag of bottled potions.

He was going to knock on the door but hesitated the moment he heard shouts between Solomon and a boy. Anne mentioned her brother being home for the summer, it was easy to assume that he was the shouting boy that Jonah heard from inside the door.

Their argument heated and Jonah started to worry about Anne being in that situation. For the first time, Jonah didn't feel welcomed in this house. He almost got hit in the face when the Sallow boy stormed out of the house in a rage, paying no heed to Jonah's presence.

Jonah stood aside from the door when he heard Solomon's footsteps approaching with an aggressive quickness.

“That's right, out! Out with you! Before you ruin things like your father did!" Solomon berated.

Solomon still stood there to watch Sebastian walk further away from his sight, his eyes still fuming, he grunted with annoyance as he turned towards Jonah,

"I.." Jonah felt uncertain whether it was right to speak now. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sallow. I'm here to deliver this week's potion.” He continued, business was business after all, but he wouldn’t deny his wish to see Anne.

"Take the potions back with you! We’re no longer ordering Mrs. Wilkinson's potions!" He demanded.

"Alright, sir. But, may I ask why?"

Jonah wondered whether it was a final or simply Solomon's decision influenced by the heat of the moment

"They are not working! You should know that already, considering how much time you spent with my niece!" Jonah could hear an accusation in his tone.

Solomon's statement brought an embarrassment to Jonah, he felt as if all the time he spent with her word was for the sake of it alone, rather than being helpful.

He cherished the moments he spent with her, and Anne enjoyed them too. However, Solomon saw it as wasteful, an inconvenience, and at times, indecent.

Jonah was a boy after all, and the fact that he was a Squib and unschooled at his current age made Solomon look down on him even more.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Solomon looked down at the sunflowers in Jonah's hand as if they were a frivolous thing that would make a mess in his house. Solomon wanted this to be done with, and for Jonah to go already.

"Yes, sir, I.." He held the flower hanging in his left hand, his stare full of hope. "Can I see Annie? Is she alright?"

Please, Jonah didn’t say it out loud but he meant it with pleading eyes, let me see my Annie, even just for a while.

"She is not in the position to receive a guest! I expect you to look into the situation! I appreciate your intention, but she wouldn't need those flowers!" Solomon shot him a scornful look that sent Jonah a few steps back in intimidation.

"Now, good day to you!" Solomon bid him farewell. For a glance, Jonah saw Anne's hopeful look from the door. She could only watch when her uncle treated Jonah so unpleasantly. It made her heart sink to see her uncle decide on her behalf.

Her pain came just a moment before Jonah's arrival and it led to today's argument between Solomon and Sebastian. As much as she wanted to defend Jonah, she couldn't bring herself on her feet without the pain sending her back down to her seat.

“Wait, sir!"

Solomon slammed the door shut in front of Jonah. It sent Anne a startle, she could feel her sight blur with tears from the shock.

Jonah stared at the sunflowers in his hand, his bag was still full of bottles, but he walked back feeling empty.

His journey home left an unpleasant aftertaste, and Jonah wasn't sure that he would find the guts to visit again.

He sat cross-legged on the cart, plucking the sunflower petals and letting them fall on the road. He would see Annie again. He would not. He would see Annie again...

He would not.

He held the memories of Feldcroft with his Annie in it, dear to his heart. But perhaps Solomon was right, it wouldn't help her.

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