The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

Constance Merriweather

In spite of herself, Constance Merriweather was rather excited about the young university student coming to visit her that afternoon.

She spent her morning cleaning house, partly with her wand and partly the old muggle way, sweeping and doing the dishes manually while her wand minded the lunch she was preparing and tidied up a bit in the parlor. A quarter 'til Tibirius Rosenblat was scheduled to arrive, she took fresh cookies from the oven with gooey chocolate chips and piled them onto a three-tiered tea service, and with a flick of her wand, a steaming pot was on the parlor table, along with the notes she had carefully compiled the night before - things she wanted to be sure to tell the young, aspiring mediwizard about the things she had found most helpful while studying and during her time at Mungos.

Remember that each patient you serve is not just a project for you to work on, but someone's mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son, friend... They are people with lives and stories, ambitions and sorrow. Never overlook them in the name of practice.

That she had circled and underlined thrice to be sure she got that information deposited securely into the boy's mind. It was, after all, the most important, often untaught, element of becoming a mediwitch or wizard that there was.

Prompt to the schedule, there came a ring upon the door bell and Constance waved her wand to vanish away her apron, tidied her hair nervously, and went to answer the door.

There on the step was a young man and a young woman. "'ello, you must be Tibirius," she greeted them, then looked to the young woman. "And you are...?"

"This is Constance, my girlfriend," Tibirius said, turning to smile widely, his eyes twinkled in a very lovely way and Constance Merriweather thought he was a very nice young boy, and how she would have been delighted by him, too, had she been their age. "I told you about her in my owl?"

"Yes, yes you did - the namesake." She smiled and held out her hand to the young woman. "It is lovely to meet you, young lady... It isn't often that I've met another Constance - it isn't a very common name."

The younger Constance smiled, "Not at all! I believe you're the first I've ever met. Constance Kirkkengaard," she said, taking the woman's hand fondly.

A bit of a tingle went up the elder Constance's arm at the touch of the young girl's palms. Such a lovely young couple, she thought, how pleasant they both seemed. It warmed her heart and she felt a spark of joy and nostalgia for memories she thought she had long since lost... memories of her late husband, whose smile had warmed her precisely the way the young girl's did. 

"Everyone calls her Connie, though," Tibirius put in. "Isn't that right, Con-Con?"

Connie looked at Tibirius, "Why, yes that's true Tie."

Tibirius laughed.

Constance waved for the pair of them to come in, and she led the way from the door into the parlor, waving her wand to close it behind them once they'd entered. 

"You have a lovely home," Connie said, looking about.

"Why thank you, dear," Constance Merriweather said. She was rather proud of the little home. It was the first that she and Archie, her late husband, had shared and it had been a long forty-seven years that she'd worked at making it homey and special to their tastes. It was clear that she enjoyed the colour yellow, for there was a great deal of yellow shades that filled the home. The couches were yellow and the carpets were a deep gold colour. Orange and brown knitted throws hung upon the backs of the couches and a large flowering plant grew on an end table with yawning yellow petals. She directed them to sit on the couches and offered the tiered tea platter to them, the cookies still warm from the stove. "Now don't spoil your dinner, son," she clucked in amusement as Tibirius heartily took two cookies at once.