To the Future || Harry Potter

The Last McKinnon

Yorkshire, England

Tuesday - 16th, June 1991

Kendra

Kendra Bollinger was perfectly suited to her life as it was. She had swallowed the hard-to-swallow pill and digested it long ago. She might not have chosen this life for herself but she was in it. So, she went about it with as much dignity as she could muster.

She had never wanted children, that was something both she and her muggle husband had agreed on. Children were too messy, unintelligent, and time-consuming. She simply didn't have the patience for them. She didn't like to compete with anyone, one of the many reasons she had married a non-magical person such as Robert Bollinger.

If events had not unfolded as they had, she would have been perfectly content to live out the rest of her days child-free. As it was, on May 17th , 1980, the course of her life changed. Her baby sister and her awful husband had been murdered and their son brought to her doorstep in need of a home.

She'd never approved of Dumbledore or his Order, something that she and her sister Dora had fought frequently about in those final months before her death. Of course, she'd been more inclined to support the silly little Order over the upstart villain who'd brought war to her country. Still, at the end of the day, she didn't believe it was any of her business.

As a half-blood, she and her family would've been safe from most of the violence targeting Muggleborns. She'd married a muggle, yes, but she wasn't one and she was smart enough to keep herself out of the spotlight. That was why their family had decided to remain neutral, to let the separate parties fight out their war, and see who came out of it alive. That had always been the plan.

Unfortunately, her reckless little sister had never understood the idea of self-preservation. She'd gone and joined the Order fresh out of Hogwarts and married a McKinnon. Not just any McKinnon, a dangerous one, a diseased one.

It was Danny McKinnon who planted such careless ideas in her head and coaxed her sister away from her. She'd hated him then and hated him now all of these years later.

Needless to say, she hadn't gone to the Wedding. She hadn't even been present for the birth of their child and only learned of his existence through a hastily written letter from Dora. One she would come to regret never responding to.

It was on May 17th , 1980, that she learned she would never receive another letter from her little sister ever again.

She'd been staying away from the Daily Prophet and keeping the radio off. She didn't learn of her death until a week after it had occurred. The day that Albus Dumbledore arrived on her front porch with a rabble of young people: a long-haired man bequeathed in a leather jacket, a bookish fellow with more scars than flesh, and a curly-haired woman carrying her baby nephew.

She hadn't seen Albus Dumbledore since that day when he brought tragedy to her door along with a bundle of responsibility and a list of demands.

It had been nearly eleven years since Evan McKinnon had been dropped off by her old Headmaster. So, she couldn't understand why on July 24th , 1991, she was peering out of her kitchen window at the old man standing on her porch.

A different porch. A different home. A different countryside. But somehow it was just as it had been all those years ago.

Her heart struggled to beat inside her chest as she took in the sight of her former Headmaster nestled between her potted plants and the white rosebushes on either side of the steps, waiting patiently for her to answer the door.