Well yes, my lovelies, it has been a while, hasn't it? I know, I know, I feel just as bad as you do, believe me. Finally the guilt trips have pushed me to start working again. Not that I had stopped entirely, no, no, I've been working on this chapter for a couple of months, actually.

The problem was, this was initially going to be in Middle English, the dialogue I mean. But yes, that fanciful idea never came to anything concrete. That's because learning Middle English is a bit difficult and it wasn't worth making you guys wait for another couple of months till I got the hang of it (I am studying it in college but I can't quite master it yet). So I'm sorry about that, I know it will not sound very um, veridic, but you will have to make an exception and suspend your sense of disbelief as you read in Modern English. I know, I know, I apologize, but it was too hard writing in Middle English. I hope you don't mind.

Part two, as promised, will not be from Jane's point of view anymore. In fact, we're going back to Rowena and Salazar to see how these two bumped heads. Well, don't worry, we'll get to Tom and Jane soon again, Part 2 will be short and sweet.

I hope you'll tune in for this one too, I promise it won't be bad :)

Once again, I was humbled by your kind and generous reviews which have helped me realize what my goal should be. Thanks so much for your encouragement and for your amazing support, I am very grateful to you all and I hope you'll keep reading, because I couldn't ask for better readers.

I hope you like the first chapter of Part 2 and sorry for its shortness, more will come, I promise :)

P.S. The new movie is coming out in a month you guys! I am so excited! It's only been yesterday since I saw Part 1 and now finally the epic finale we have been waiting for. Although I am torn because I never want it to end, I wish they'd just keep making movies until we'd just get tired of it all, which is impossible :) I was thinking of a Harry Potter TV Show but that would probably be a big, insulting mess, so I won't go there. Still, we have one more movie to go guys. After it ends, I just know I will sob like a ten year old.

Part II

Tiny darling ghost holder
Tiny darling ghost holder
You our soft spirit breather and
You our bark skinned weaver
Remember you could weep fire
Remember you could weep fire with wild eyes
With wild eyes, oh those wild eyes

Mariee Sioux - Wild Eyes

Chapter 22: Weenie

The yellow fields, all dry and sultry, were no place for the young girl and her little brother.

The air shaking with bits of fire burnt their skin and tore off the layers hiding their white faces.

The dusty maples standing at the side of the road offered no shade. The travelers sitting under their branches stared at the cruel sunrays and cried.

The houses were far away. No one could fetch water.

You could die from heat even if you were a couple of steps away from home.

'Weenie. Water, water,' the little boy whispered, holding the hem of her dress.

She shook her head.

'No water here. We must go to the well to get some,' she explained, wiping her cinder stained nose.

The little boy made a face.

'It's too far away!' he complained. 'We must walk for miles!'

Rowena caressed his forehead. He was feverish. She knew she would have to watch over him tonight again.

'You ought to go look for mushrooms again. It will make you forget,' she told him.

But he was already forgetting many things. There were large gaps in his head. The bits and chunks which faded from his mind were replaced with memories of hunger and heat.

That is why, only five minutes later, he returned from his ruminations and pulled her hem again.

'Weenie, water please,' he moaned.

Rowena bent down and kissed his nose.

'We must go to the well to get some, I don't have any,' she repeated patiently.

She was standing against a tall white fence whose wood left red marks into her naked back, but she did not mind. Her basket of mushrooms was almost full. She had stopped to rest.

'But it's too far!' he cried upset again.

'I know. I wish it were closer, I do.'

The little boy bent down and grabbed a small mushroom from her basket.

'How did you find all the good ones?'

'I didn't. They're all bad. It's the drought,' she explained.

'So, there are no good mushrooms?'

Rowena smiled. 'You might find some good ones, if you are lucky enough.'

The boy nodded his head and his little lip trembled.

He was going to turn around and run into the tall, brown grass again, but an unprecedented moment of clarity overtook him and he stopped, arrested by a thought that had just come into his head.

He opened his mouth, but only the dry air came out.

Rowena frowned.

'What is it?'

'Weenie… I don't understand.'

Rowena shook her head. She did not appreciate being called Weenie all the time, but it was a name which had stuck despite all her attempts to seem worthy of her proper full name.

'What is it Balthy?'

Balthazar crossed his fingers trying to form his words.

'How come…how come you can make me fly, but you can't make water?'

Rowena sighed in frustration. He always asked the same questions.

She shifted her back on the burning fence.

'I've told you before. I don't know how. The powers come to me as they will. I can only receive them.'

'But…there must be a way to make water, if you can make me fly.'

'Yes, there must,' she agreed.

'I told you so!'

'Yes, but that power hasn't come to me it. When it does, I will give you as much water as you want.'

'Will you? You won't keep it for yourself?'

'Of course not. And I will be able to save our crops too. And all this land,' she said, pointing at the yellow fields.

'I would be so happy, Weenie. When do you think it will come?'

'Who can tell? Only fate may know. Maybe it will never come, though I hope it is not so.'

'Oh, Weenie! I really want it to come. I'll pray for it.'

'That might be helpful,' she said, nodding calmly. She had already got used to the idea that the mysterious powers she had been endowed with had a mind of their own and were only going to allow her very little freedom.

Ever since she had discovered them, she had been questioning her faith and whether she should keep believing in God's power.

Even before, she had been doubtful of Him, but now she had more reason to think of her powers as something ungodly, beyond His natural realms.

'Maybe it is God sent,' her little brother would say wisely.

But she was very skeptical of that possibility. She had been taught that all the creatures yielding unknown powers were the devil's daemons.

'Maybe we should tell the minister. He will pray with us,' Balthazar suggested.

'No. Don't ever do that. He won't like it,' she said quickly, shaking her head firmly.

'Why not?'

'The minister wouldn't like little children flying,' she explained.

'I'm sure once you make him fly too, he'll love it.'

Rowena laughed out loud and rubbed the back of her nape. She drew out blood. Her eyes widened. The fence had scratched at her skin. She wiped it quickly, whispering something under her breath.

A heavy breeze washed their faces.

'Weenie, there's no one around,' Balthazar began in a secretive voice.

Rowena raised an eyebrow unconvinced.

'Balthy, you know what I told you. Only once a week. We might get seen.'

'But there's no one around! I looked! Look for yourself!'

Rowena shook her head.

'There is no one now but someone might come. I do not want to take any chances,' she said briskly.

'Please, please, please Weenie!' he almost shrieked.

'Balthy, please, be a good boy. We can't.'

'But there's no water, Weenie. We are dying! At least let me fly!'

Rowena kept refusing, but her little brother kept begging with all the strength that was left in him.

'Will it really make you less thirsty?' she asked, wavering.

'Oh, you know it does! I forget about everything! I even forget I am alive. I just dream,' he said wistfully.

After Rowena made sure there were no eavesdroppers in sight, she grabbed his tiny hand and walked with him briskly to the other side of the meadow where the tall bushes were shivering in the breeze.

She walked away a few steps and raised her hands over her brother's small, frail form. He wasn't hard to lift, he was as light as a feather sometimes.

When she felt strong, she could lift him as high as the last branches of the maples, but she was not going to lift him so high today because she had not eaten anything since the day before. Her mother had punished her for coming home late from the village.

'Weenie, pull me higher!'

Balthazar was slowly rising in the air, leaving the ground somewhere behind. He closed his eyes. He wanted to imagine he was far away, floating on a cloud. He didn't like looking down. He did not wish to be reminded he would have to come down. He could just imagine the earth had disappeared and would never return.

Rowena frowned in concentration and started moving him to and fro, in a swinging motion. He giggled.

She looked around frightened. There was no one in sight, as usual, but she was always afraid she would be discovered.

It was unfortunate for her that someone really was watching then.

The young man had been lying in the grass, looking for some herbs for his potions. He had fallen asleep by mistake. It was so hot and sultry here that it proved difficult to stay awake.

He had been woken up by a pair of soft voices.

He had drawn up in irritation for having let himself rest for so long. He blinked mystified. For a moment, he forgot where he was. He wondered how he had got in the middle of nowhere.

The smell of burnt leaves reminded him.

He stared at the sky. He was tormented by the thoughts of going back to the castle empty-handed again.

His Invisible cloak lay crumpled on the ground. He sighed and got up, shaking it roughly.

It was then that he saw the little boy flying in the air.

The sight stopped him in motion.

He could not believe his eyes. He thought he must be seeing things.

Was there a wizard close by? He did not know of any.

He didn't remember Godric or Helga coming out of the castle that day. He particularly remembered seeing them in the garden, talking.

He threw the cloak over him and approached the unknowing Rowena and Balthazar.

He saw a tall young girl wielding a plump little boy with her hands. He was several feet higher than the bushes. But he saw no wand.

He was astounded.

Who was this young woman and how could she lift a body into the air without a wand? What kind of insensible witch was this?

And for that matter, how could Orsino, his trusted servant, have hidden the fact that there was a witch in the village?

His eye travelled over the length of her sweaty, dust-covered face. Her eyes were shining with a burden unknown to him.

She looked fairly young and inexperienced. He found it hard to believe she was an actual witch or that she had any learning for that matter. She seemed simple. Perhaps she was of some mixed blood.

He imagined she was a peasant, judging by her clothes and her dirty, bruised legs.

But something in her fierce expression made him recoil.

Despite his mind's aversion, he was jealous of her. She could wield magic without a wand.

It was not a pleasant feeling for Salazar Slytherin.

Whenever Godric accomplished something he could not himself do, he got very angry and suffered great pains in order to surpass him.

But not even Godric himself could wield magic without a wand.

Was this an accident? Or was it a new breed of blood?

'Weenie! Weenie, higher!'

'No, it's enough,' she said, panting.

Weenie? he asked himself stupefied. Weenie?

What a horrible name, he thought.

Rowena lowered him softly on the muddy earth as she dropped to her knees, breathing heavily.

She was dazed by the waves of sweat pouring down her face, wetting her eye. She shook herself and got up with a feeling of disappointment. Had she eaten something, she could have done much better.

Salazar clenched his fists under his cloak. He wished he could reveal himself and ask her some much deserved questions.

Rowena suddenly walked towards him. He froze in his spot, watching her carefully. She could not possibly see him.

But Rowena had spotted something glittering in the grass before her.

She stopped right in front of him, sighing briefly.

She extended her hand. Her fingers almost touched his shoulder. She pushed away the bushes and stepped into the empty meadow.

She bent down and picked up what looked like a small emerald.

It was a crusted green stone fallen from his shirt. It had come off during his short period of sleep.

She looked it over in fascination. Her heart started racing as she realized it was probably precious and worth some gold.

'Balthy, I found something! Come on, we must show mama!' she yelped, running past Salazar as if he was nothing but air.

She looked like a wild deer, chasing through desolate lands.

Balthy followed her happily, murmuring some silly lullaby as his stodgy feet dragged behind him.

'Wait, Weenie, wait!' he yelped.

Soon, she became a black figure on the bright, glaring horizon, like a raven cut from the sky.

Only when she was out of sight, did Salazar release a heavy breath.

He felt ridiculous for having waited for so long to move. She was nothing to be afraid of. She was a common thief, taking what wasn't hers without a single hesitance.

But she was unordinary in the most irritable sense of the word. Salazar did not like new magical guests on his land.

But he was determined to discover her power and take it from her.