Lucy Potter and the Flickering Flame
The Lucy Potter Septet Book Seven

by
Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly
Copyright 6177 SC (Adjusted HNF Calendar)



Some times in life, thought Lucy Potter to herself. Some times in life, when you think, finally, after all is said and done, and you have had every last one of your adventures, and you have settled down, and worked it all out, and everything is running smoothly, and life is, really, beautiful – the dream ends. And for this Autumn in Cooma and Chakola and, in particular, Bunyan, when a more regular life of Lucy Potter had finally returned, a flickering flame did indeed end, and life turned one more corner for the life of the daughter of David Potter.

'Jenny Rosalina Potter. Whatever in heaven and earth am I ever going to do with a child like you?'
The question appeared quite lost on the face of the mischievous 10 year old bearing that particular moniker, because as she stamped out the 3 cigarettes she had lit beneath her feet, not 1 or 2 mind you, but the 3 she had been smoking, she just smiled that 'Whatever' smile Lucy Potter had gotten to know oh too well. The cheek of Enrique, through and through, she thought to herself.

'Go on. Get, child. Go play in the back yard.'
Jenny scrammed, and Lucy stared down at the mess on the carpet. The cigarettes had burned a little of the carpets and Lucy, almost instinctively was about to go for her wand, but rebuked herself. Bewitched had gotten to her. Darren, Samantha's doting dullard, had gotten to her. She would call the carpet man in the morning.

She took the cigarettes, and looked at them for a moment. She'd quit recently for the sake of Jenny, but she still had dozens of packs all over the house. 'Fuck it,' she swore to herself, sat down, and picked out a lighter from the glass holder on the table, and lit one of the unsmoked cigarettes. 'Jesus, that tastes good,' she said to herself, as she took in the smoke into her lungs and relaxed. Tension left her. And suddenly she felt a bit amorous. Was Daniel back from Sydney? Perhaps she could ring him? She rebuked herself for the second time that evening.

She looked out the back window. Jenny and the neighbours kid, Josh, were playing madly chasing each other around the back yard, their new dog Rex barking madly all the time. Josh Cavanagh was 9 years old, just a little younger than Lucy, but his bigger build compensated quite adequately. Jenny never stopped talking about Josh – for a 10 year old she was practically smitten. But that was life, wasn't it. It moved on. Chose its romances, even from a young age, and heaven itself couldn't prevent what the common sense of mother nature insisted on in the end. They were the facts of life after all. She smoked her cigarette, and rebuked herself for the 3rd time that evening, as she smoked the other two and decided not to give the slightest damn anyway. She had earned it. Well, she liked to tell herself that anyway.

And God they tasted good.

* * * * *

'Heaven's above, Lucy Potter. If I wanted you to help I would have asked.'
Shelandragh stood there, in the front of Minoxxia, staring at her pupil. Lucy had innocently opened the back of the car to bring in the new electric heater, but Shelandragh seemed stubbornly to think she should be doing it herself.
'I was only trying to help, Shellie.'
Shelandragh softened, and looked at Lucy. 'It's my age, Lucy. I'm starting to feel it. Of course, bring in the heater.'
Lucy picked up the box and closed the car, wandering inside after Shelandragh. She found her in the front living room, seated on the couch, panting heavily. She had been doing that all day.
'Shelandragh. Are you having issues with your health?'
'Leave me alone, Lucy,' said Shelandragh softly. But Shelandragh looked weakly up at Lucy. She looked at her, and her eyes said it all.
'I'll plug in the heater,' said Lucy.

When Lucy had brought in tea and bikkies into the lounge, and decided to get the fireplace going anyway, despite it only being early autumn, Shelandragh was curled up in a woolen blanket, even shivvering a little, and whose gaze seemed to be off in the distance. In a distant world.
Lucy served her the tea and sat down opposite, drinking her own.

She looked at her teacher. There she was – was she a thousand years old now? Something like that, wasn't it? She had been around forever, and now, feeling something of an age also, Lucy realized she had also been around for a fair bit of that life also. They'd had so many adventures together. Fought so much of the dark side, and come out victorious. In a way, they were heroes. Witches, yes – but heroes to. And Lucy felt some pride, occasionally, at the things she had accomplished and the things she had done in her craft. She hadn't been an incompetent ninny, and had shown her worth as a witch and a Potter. Something to be proud of.

Shelandragh had dozed off, and Lucy sat there looking at her. The lines in her face were weathered – well weathered. She was an old maiden – supposedly – who had served this world and this community for so long now that time, it seemed, was finally catching up on her. Time was finally catching up on Shelandragh May. She was a good old soul, was Shelandragh. Lucy's very best friend in the world, and she would be lost without her. But, looking at her, still shivering, still wrapped carefully in the woolen blanket, perhaps now, at the end of all her adventures, perhaps now she should start preparing to face something Shelandragh had been hinting at for a while now. The end of the road.

'Where is that tea?' asked Shelandragh suddenly, and blundered out a hand, knocking the tea cup over. 'Oh, bugger,' she said.
'Don't worry about that,' said Lucy. 'I will get you another one.'
'Oh, don't bother,' said Shelandragh. She smiled at Lucy. 'It's not the end of the world Lucy Potter.'
'No. Your highness,' she said, slightly mockingly. 'It's not.' And did a face.
Shelandragh humphed, and sat there. 'You know, Lucy Potter. I'm feeling it. In my bones. In my waters.'
Lucy Said nothing. She didn't really want to comment on what Shelandragh was going to say, because she knew anyway.
'But with an old soul as mine is, in the many long years of life I have travelled down,' continued Shelandragh. 'If not now, I never will be,' she finished.
Lucy looked at her for a while. 'Never will be what?' There. She said it. Deliberately. To draw the answer.
Shelandragh just stared at her, and tilted her head.

'Let me get you that other cup of tea,' said Lucy, and took the tea and walked out to the kitchen. But she sat down, by the glass sliding doors on the old seat which had sat there forever, and sighed. And then started crying softly. She was losing her best friend – and she knew it.

A little later, after she had calmed down, she came back in with a hot chocolate and a packet of the hidden Tim Tams, but Shelandragh had fallen asleep and was snoring softly, which was quite rare for her. Lucy sat down and looked at her mentor. All sorts of feelings and thoughts came over her. Thoughts of how much she wanted to say 'Thank you' for all the years together, all the times together, all the love together. She so desperately, right at that moment, wanted to go into the wells of her own spirit, in true wiccan manner, and bring forth her own life spirit – her own life force – and feed that into the life of Shelandragh May. But she couldn't. Because she was only animistic. And that type of power didn't come with what she had been made. She was not a real witch in the end, anyway. She was, well, a faerie. Or an Angel. God, was she ever fooling herself, but she wasn't a witch. She'd finally gotten used to that truth. She was an animist, and that even made her holy in some people's book, like Daniel's. He said she was a precious angel of God, or some other lost daughter. And then he would say 'Or some other FOUND daughter', and smile at her. And she would smile back and say 'Yes. Found.' But Shelandragh was a witch. And she had been her teacher, and her mentor. And her best friend. For so very long now, her very best friend. But a flame was flickering in Bunyan, in the heart of the Monaro, and Lucy Potter knew that flickering flame didn't have much time left. And she would have to accept that come what may.

* * * * *
'You know, Lucy,' began Daniel.
'Here we go,' sighed Lucy Potter.
'They've been doing studies,' continued Daniel.
Lucy looked out over the breakfast kitchen table in Daniel's Cooma North house and smiled at her husband. 'You're an idiot,' she said, and took some more bacon.
'No seriously,' he said, between his fried egg and orange juice. 'They've been doing studies. Men with hazel eyes and brown hair, in all the studies on intelligence and charisma, come across as the most desired attributes that a woman looks for. That and a big penis as well.'
Lucy almost burst out laughing on the last statement, but kept herself in check. 'And what magazine, exactly, Daniel, proclaims these WISE truths?'
'Watch that sarcastic tongue of yours, Miss Lucy Potter,' said Daniel, pointing his fork full of bacon at her. 'Now, the magazine in question, whose origin I vaguely remember from my distant youth, is Cosmopolitan. Or, otherwise affectionately known as, Cosmo. They have been famous for a sealed section, which divulges all the secrets on sexuality, for centuries now. Usually an excuse for women to perve on men's schlongs, if you ask me.'
Lucy chuckled. That much she agreed with.
'Now, the reason that these attributes are voted the most popular is based on long tradition that such men are usually the most responsible, loving and caring in society.'
'Hazel eyes?' she remarked, softly.
'Yes. Yes indeed,' he responded. 'Apparently, if the eyes are hazel, it is taken that great intelligence and a sophisticated manner is most likely. And of course every woman wants a tall dark and handsome when it all comes down to it. Don't they.'
'The thing is,' said Lucy Potter. 'I can't really figure the big penis remark. Surely the present company does not make such a bold proclamation as to fulfil that virtue.'
'Go to hell,' he said in response, and flicked some bacon at her.
'Peter pecker is more like it,' she said, sniggering.
'My 9 inches of man meat will satisfy you tonight like never before with that tongue Miss Lucy Potter.'
She screeeched. '9 inches. Keep on dreaming Daniel Daly. 6 on a good day.'
'Ok. 6. And I've measured,' he responded.
'That's more like it,' she replied.
'Apparently its a meaty one,' said Daniel softly.
'What was that?' asked Lucy, eye cocked.
'A working girl once told me. Mine is quite thick.'
'Well that working girl should learn to keep her mouth shut,' scolded Lucy.
Daniel grinned and continued eating his bacon.

'You know, Dan. There is something I wanted to say. It's about Shelandragh. You know, she is not going to live forever, and...' but she trailed off, as his attention was suddenly on the TV, about some news in Canberra, so she stopped, and kept the thought to herself. Obviously not the time to express her concerns. Not yet.

* * * * *
'Her name is Mushroom,' said Lucy animatedly.
Shelandragh just stared at the cat, nonplussed.
'Which Mushroom number again?' asked Daniel.
Lucy looked at Daniel and then at Shelandragh quizzically.
'Mushroom the sixteenth,' responded Shelandragh, still somewhat disinterested. But the kitten, or the cat, as it was in its last vestiges of kittenhood, jumped up to the couch, scrawled onto Shelandragh May's lap, and dutifully snuggled down and went to sleep.
Shelandragh looked down at the cat and then up at Lucy and Daniel. There were soft tears in her eyes.
'A witch is not a witch without a pussy,' said Daniel. 'Even if it is a tortoiseshell.'
'Every Mushroom has been a tortoiseshell,' responded Shelandragh. 'She took over from a long run of Merlin's from memory. He was a black one in more ways than one.'
'Then everything is perfect,' said Daniel, who wandered off to the kitchen to find some beverage or something, leaving Lucy and Shelandragh to chat.

Lucy sat opposite, looking at Shelandragh, who was absentmindedly stroking the snoozing mushroom, her gaze lost in some distant world.
'Shelandragh May. It very much occurs to me that for very many years now we have not had much of a celebration of things. We haven't celebrated a decent Christmas Party since God knows when,' but Christmas is past now, so I have decided for something different. We will celebrate your birthday party. It is that alright with Madam?'
Shelandragh didn't answer. She just looked off in the distance, lost in her own world.
'Shelandragh?' said Lucy softly.
Shelandragh turned to her. 'You know, Lucy. I sense animism, like you do. And I sense places, and their spirit, and the comfort of that spirit. And I think, at the moment, I would like to go up to the Little Theatre in Cooma East this Friday night to see them do scenes from Macbeth. But I don't really want to go to the play. Just an excuse to be there. I want to sit outside, and have a little wander around the grasslands there.'
'Why?' asked Lucy confused.
'Heaven's above, Lucy Potter. Because I find peace there,' said Shelandragh May agitatedly. 'And at my age I am in need of some peace.'
Lucy softened. 'Alright. I'll buy 3 tickets. Daniel and I will watch the show and come out afterwards.'
Shelandragh nodded, and picked up a tissue and wiped away a tear which had formed.
'Are you ok, Shelandragh?' asked Lucy.
'Oh, yes. Oh, fiddlesticks. No. Not really.'
'What is it?' asked Lucy, concerned.
'Just memories, Lucy Potter. Nothing for you to worry your head about. Just an old witch's memories,' and then Shelandragh had that look in her eyes again, gazing off into another world, and Lucy decided not to bother her, but to sit in silence. What could she really say anyway.

The afternoon passed, and Shelandragh was snoozing when Daniel came back in, Lucy just sitting quietly, watching her teacher. She just wanted that, at the moment. Just to watch her. To be in her presence. A voice had been speaking to Lucy Potter, and it was a deep voice of her faith, of her Noahide faith. It told her to value this time, and be careful to value each moment, now, with her beloved teacher. And it said to her heart that she knew why as well. And Lucy did know why.

She watched Shelandragh, as she snored lightly, and her eyes flickered in the dreamscape, and memories came into the life of Lucy Potter. Memories of Chakola from years ago, when she would spend all morning walking to Shelandragh's to learn a lesson, and then all evening walking home. Memories, also, of the children playing in the back yard, and of Madalene's sensibilities, and Jayden's cheek and Georgia's humility. And Goldie and Silver, and the farm and everything. And, through it all, the steadying voice of the wisdom of Shelandragh May, who had replaced her mother when Caroline had passed, and had been just that; that steadying voice, that steadying influence in the life of Lucy Potter, that guided her and guarded her, and kept her safe from the darkness of the world, a darkness sometimes all to prevalent. How on earth would she ever cope without Shelandragh May?

'You hadn't said,' said Daniel suddenly.
'What?' asked Lucy.
'I'm not that thick,' replied Daniel. 'Despite my facade I work every day diligently to maintain, I am as sensitive as the next person inside, Lucy. Her time. She's not long for this world.'
Lucy turned to him, and nodded softly. 'She wants to see a play. Up at the little theatre this weekend. But she doesn't want to see the play, but just be outside, around the theatre, in the grasslands.'
'I roamed around there as a kid,' said Daniel. 'Of course, I grew up in 6 Bradley street. Spent the 1980s there with my family. But I was in my teens and wandered all over Cooma.'
'She wants to feel the spirit of the place,' said Lucy.
Daniel nodded. 'Yes. Like parts of Cooma North. Those fibro buildings have been there forever, and they sort of carry a spirit also. It's something about this place. Apparently, Cooma means meeting place. Like Canberra, a conflux of converging spiritual realities.'
Lucy smiled to herself. That much, with her sensitivity, she knew to be true also. She sensed it in her house near the Pool, the spiritual reality. And then you went to another area of Cooma, and someone else wanted attention. She was sure it was old spiritual dominions. Old spirits, who had claimed what they claimed, and resolved to make boundaries at a meeting place. Or maybe that was just fantasy. Who knew for sure.
'We'll take her to the play,' said Daniel.
Lucy sat there, watching Shelandragh, again snoring lightly. She would be extra sensitive, now. She knew she had to be. And she knew she wanted to be.

She watched her, all that evening, snoozing away. And suddenly, she felt it herself. Around this company. Old. Even lonely, despite the company.
'Hold me, Daniel,' she said suddenly.
Daniel held her, and Lucy watched Shelandragh. She watched her snore, and valued every second. She valued every single second.

* * * * *
It was Friday Night. 'Time to party,' said Daniel.
'Very funny,' responded Lucy. They were at Daniel's place in Cooma north, and had dressed up a bit for the play.
'You look hot, babe,' said Daniel.
'Not too bad yourself,' responded Lucy, looking over Daniel. It wasn't exactly a suit and tie, but he had formal pants on, which he rarely wore, a nice red shirt and leather tie, with black shoes. Apparently a traditional Daniel design, so he had told her.
They came into the main living room are, and Shelandragh came out. She was dressed in an old dress of hers, and a large weather rain coat over the top, even though there was no hint of rain that evening.
'So, when we get there, we will go inside, and I will leave you with the keys and the car,' said Daniel.
Shelandragh nodded.
'Ok then. Off we go.'

The drive was very short, and perhaps not even that necessary, as they could very well have walked the distance, but drive they did to the Cooma little theatre, and when they got there, as said, Daniel and Lucy got out, took there tickets with them, and came around to look at Shelandragh.
'Here's the keys,' said Daniel, handing her the keys. 'If you must drive off, ok. We can walk home. If you must.'
Shelandragh didn's say anything. She had been quiet all evening.
'Well, off we go then,' said Daniel, and Lucy followed him up the theatre, and as they went inside, Shelandragh looked at them departing for a moment, and then got out, got in the front seat, and put the heater on, winding the window open.

And then she just sat there.

About 2 hours later scenes from Macbeth and other Shakespearean plays had ended, and Daniel and Lucy had been chatting with some fellow Cooma Northerners they knew, when they came out, found the SVU, the keys in the ignition, the window wound down, but Shelandragh nowhere to be seen.
'Should we wait? Or go looking?' asked Daniel.
Lucy looked at him. 'Perhaps a soft woman's touch.'
He smiled. 'I'll wait here.'
Lucy nodded.

She didn't have to go far, and found her just down the hill a little, sitting on a concrete base of long abandoned snowy housings. She was sitting there, on the edge, quietly, just looking out towards the west, into the starry cooma night.
'Shelandragh!' dared Lucy.
Shelandragh didn't speak.
Lucy came around in front of her, and sat down at an angle so as not to interfere with her view.
She sat there for a few minutes, just waiting. Just waiting. Eventually Shelandragh spoke.
'You know, Lucy Potter. You are a very good student. You always pay attention, even though you slacken off some times and behave very badly,' but she said very badly with a smile on her face.
'You are my best friend. In all the world Lucy Potter. So I will tell you a story. A story of love.'
Lucy shivered a little in the cold, as the evening had gotten along a little, but she didn't mind. She would listen to Shelandragh's story.
'When I first left the old world, and Came to Australia, like you, it took me a while to settle. But I met Alfric from the Ministry of Magic, and we went on trips, funnily enough, down to the snow and abouts this region. And I found Cooma and instantly fell in love with her, but coming back to Canberra one evening I noticed Bunyan, and knew I had found my home eternal. It was perfect. In those years, when Bunyan and Cooma were still youngish, I met someone in town. Keith. Keith Holloway. And I told Keith what I was, and he said he would be a warlock for me if he had to be, because we fell in love.'
Lucy smiled. She hadn't heard this story.
'But Keith wasn't a warlock, and we came up here one evening. And we sat about here, chatting away. And he spoke to me, and he told me he had cancer, and that his time wasn't long for this world. And I protested, and said I could heal him, but do you know what he said? Do you know what he said Lucy Potter?'
She shook her head.
'Some things are meant to be, Lucy Potter. Some things are just meant to be.'
Lucy nodded. That much was true to her also.
Shelandragh looked, then, right at Lucy Potter. Right into the eyes and heart of Lucy Potter. 'So soon, Lucy Potter. When the lights dim, and flicker and, finally, go out. Remember that. Some things are just meant to be.'
Lucy wanted to scowl at her, but refrained. She moved over, and sat next to Shelandragh, and took her hand. 'God knows, I love you Shelandragh May. You are my best friend in all the world. So I won't fight it. I'll let it be. And, as you say, some things are just meant to be.'
Shelandragh held that hand, and suddenly gripped it very tightly, and said 'Thank you Lucy Potter. Thank you.'

And they sat there in silence, and shortly it started raining lightly, and Daniel came and found them, and insulted them as stupid women for being out in the rain, and Lucy knew then that everything was right in the world.

* * * * *

'More ice cream,' said Decadence.
'Jane. You are atrocious,' said Daniel. 'Do you know how many years I struggled with my weight because of that fowl concoction,' responded Daniel Daly.
'More, buster,' swore Decadence at him.
Daniel went to the fridge, returned with the 'Quadruple Choc Super Elite Fudge Ripple' Ice Cream, produced by a local company, and handed the entire tub to her. 'Go crazy he said.' Jane just took off the lid and hooked in.
Daniel stared at her for a while, and then shook his head disapprovingly and went off to the lounge room, sitting down next to Jenny who was playing on his ancient Sega Megadrive system.
'What the hell is Sonic?' Jenny asked him, as she motored the avatar of Sonic the Hedgehog around the screen. Daniel had simply introduced the game to her as the classic 'Sonic' and started it up, leaving it with her.
'He's a hedgehog. And Tails is a fox,' responded Daniel.
'Right,' said Jenny. 'You know, though. It's kinda basic. I mean, how old is it? This should be like for 3 year olds.'
'It was something of a challenge for adults when they first released it,' replied Daniel, affronted somewhat.
'Yeh, knowing you it would be,' responded Jenny Potter cheekily.
'Why Miss Potter. You do have an attitude don't you,' said Daniel.
'Bite me,' responded Jenny, as she finished level 2 Act 1.
'Kids today,' said Daniel, shaking his head, as he watched the girl progress on his ancient game.
'Do you kids still have X-Boxes and Playstations and things like that?' asked Daniel, who was not up to date with the latest games consoles.
'What's an X-Box?' asked Jenny.
'I am getting too old,' replied Daniel, shaking his head.
Lucy came in the room. 'Be careful Jenny,' sniggered Lucy. 'That old junk will be sure to give you a zap. It's ancient.'
Jenny laughed and shouted. 'Daniel is older than Merlin. What do you expect.'
Lucy smiled and looked at Daniel. He didn't look that impressed.
'Well I'm still old enough to kick your ass at Sonic, Jenny Potter.'
'When I'm finished, I'll let you play, and we'll see then,' said Jenny. But the way she was going, despite the end levels being a little tougher, Daniel wasn't that confident that she wouldn't finish the thing first go, especially the way she was easily going around earning the extra lives by collecting the rings.
Decadence – Jane Smith – came in the room, chocolate still smudged over her mouth.
'Had your fill?' asked Daniel.
'I left you some,' she replied. 'A little bit, anyway.'
'Thanks,' he said sarcastically.
Decadence sat down next to Daniel, and Lucy had sat down next to Jenny, and they were watching Jenny champion herself around the next level. Decadence put on her earphones after a while, and disappeared into ipod territory, while Daniel sat happily enough watching Jenny the master solve at first go that which had taken him a while to work out.
'She's talented,' said Daniel to Lucy.
Lucy said nothing.
'Must be your genes,' Daniel said again.
Lucy finally spoke what was on her mind. 'Daniel. You do know. Don't you.'
Daniel watched the screen for a moment, and then turned to Lucy. Lucy was looking serious. 'Shelandragh,' he said softly. Lucy nodded. 'What did she say? Last night?' he asked her.
'That when it was her time, then it really should just happen. That these things are meant to be, you know.'
'Yes. I think I see where she is coming from.'
'So, you know. She really doesn't want a fuss. I think we both know there is a complication, likely, of some kind. And she won't disclose it. And will just let it be. But perhaps she has chosen her time, a good time to go, and that time is now.'
'Like she said,' replied Daniel. 'It's meant to be.'
Lucy nodded soberly. 'So, right at this time, can we do a few things. A few special things. With Shelandragh. Just over the next few days and weeks. And if you can excuse yourself from all your other things for a while, while, you know.'
'We say goodbye,' he said softly.
Lucy touched his shoulder. 'She's my best friend in all the world Daniel. I know I married you, but she has been part of my life since the very, very beginning. I will be lost without her.'
'We'll make this special.'
'She doesn't want to be buried at Minoxxia. She owns a plot. In Cooma cemetery. She has asked that she be given a Catholic funeral service because, ironically, all those years ago in England it was a Catholic nation, and she had been baptized as a child.'
Daniel smiled. 'Me too, you know.'
Lucy looked at him, strangely. 'You're a Noahide,' she said.
'With Catholic parents. I was baptized all right. You do remember, don't you. Madalene. All the kids. Brigid and I – the whole family – we were brought up Catholics.'
'Mmm,' said Lucy. 'When did you become a Noahide. I'm sure you've told me before, but I forget.'
'99,' he replied. '1999. January. A long time ago. I was a Pentecostal before that for a few years, and raised Catholic. I'd even been agnostic for a while. But a Noahide since then, and forever onwards.'
'Well, ok. So, as I said,' continued Lucy. 'She has a funeral plot. We can add a headstone if we wish and, she said this quite straightly, that large angels and even a statue of Jesus or Mary wouldn't be out of the question. Right down inside, she told me, that was the ancient faith of her heart. She was born in it and wants to die in it.'
'I understand,' said Daniel.
'So its a special time,' said Lucy, but Daniel was trying to snatch the joystick from Jenny, who had used up her last life, and was only on level 2.
'Pathetic, Jenny. Level 2 act 2. My old man could do better than that.'
'Shut up,' said Jenny. 'It doesn't work properly.'
'Everyone says that,' said Daniel. 'And old excuse.'
Daniel started a new game, but momentarily turned to Lucy. 'A special time,' he said softly. 'We'll make sure of it.'
Lucy again touched his shoulder.
And then Daniel was off again on an epic struggle, and Jenny watched all that morning as he made it all the way to the end, defeated Robotnik, and gloated about it all afternoon.

* * * * *
Daniel woke up, Sunday morning, bleary eyed. He looked up, and noticed his wife was at the dressing table, in a formal skirt and blouse she never wore.
'What's up?' he asked her.
'Church. We are going to church,' she replied.
'Oh, yeh. It's Sunday.' And then he came to himself. 'Lucy Potter. I have not been to church since............since...........for heaven's sake. Since Adam was a lad, ok.'
She smiled at that one.
'Well things change, so get dressed, neatly, and we are going off to Bunyan. Shelandragh is expecting us at 9:30, in time for the 10:00 am service.
'Which church,' he asked, as he got to his feet.
'Don't be an idiot,' she said. 'Which do you think.'

When they had picked up Shelandragh, and were coming up the steps of St Patricks Church in Cooma, Daniel spoke to Shelandragh.
'I was you know.'
Shelandragh looked at him quizzically.
'You were what?' she asked.
'An altar boy. This church. Same bloody church. Same stones. They don't even look weathered. That statue there,' he said pointing. 'Unchanged. Been there forever. I probably even have my first communion surviving photos of my near it.'
Shelandragh smiled. 'I've been here once or twice. Quiet times. Crisis times. To pray. Once when Lucy was unwell.'
'Well, thank you for that,' said Lucy. 'Now lets go inside.'
The girls went in, and Daniel looked at the water troughs to dip the hand in and make the sign of the cross. He had dipped his hands many times in those troughs all those years ago, and made the sign of the cross. He thought about it and, though he hadn't been very fundamental on Noahide faith for many years now, a voice said to him, 'Better not Daniel. Don't cause confusion.' So he looked at the troughs, and passed by.
Shelandragh and Lucy were in the very back row, on the right side of the building, and Daniel came and sat next to them. It was about quarter to ten, and while there were a few parishoners, he vaguely recalled they usually didn't show until about the time. He was wrong. What they had come into was it. About 4 or 5 other parishoners apart from themselves.

When the priest went up the aisle, without any altar boy, he noted them, but continued on. And the mass was said, and they just sat there without the bowing and kneeling and standing, and Shelandragh didn't feel like taking communion. Didn't want to be a hypocrite she said to them both.

But the priest came out in the church after the service, and sat down to speak with them.
'I'm Father McCoy. Nice to see you in church, Shelandragh May.'
Shelandragh smiled an awkward smile. 'I didn't know you knew me.'
The priest smiled at her. 'Catholic faith is an old faith, Shelandragh May. And it is a faith which has the habit of keeping records. Ancient records. We know how old you are. And that the community, perhaps through your ways, doesn't, really. But we know.'
'Oh,' she said.
'You are a Catholic, aren't you. All those years ago. When you were young. Back in the old world.'
'How could you possibly know about that?' she asked him.
'Who do you think the Ministry of Magic ultimately reports to Shelandragh May? We may be somewhat small, now. But most Prime Ministers are still Christian. The voters usually expect that. They don't want to go to church themselves, but they want a Christian Prime Minister. We have always known who you are Shelandragh May. I have had to be informed, as the priest of this parish. But we've always known.'
'Will you hear my sins, father?' she asked him.
He nodded.
Shelandragh looked at Daniel and Lucy knowingly, and Daniel suddenly got the hint. 'We'll be out the front,' he said, and he picked up Lucy to follow him.

'You know. I probably should do that,' said Daniel, standing by the statue of St Patrick, and gazing out upon Cooma.
'What?' asked Lucy.
'Confess my sins,' replied Daniel, grinning at her.
'Is there enough time in all of eternity for that?' asked Lucy, grinning madly at him.
Daniel chuckled. 'Probably not,' he replied.
They stood there for a while, watching the town, and Shelandragh shortly appeared, and nodded at them. 'He gave me the blessing of the sick,' she said.
Daniel suddenly remembered the sacrament, one of 7. 'Then all is good,' he said softly.
Shelandragh nodded.
'Can you both take me home?' she asked. 'And stay for lunch. I prepared a meal this morning.'
'We'll stay for lunch,' said Lucy, taking Shelandragh's hand.

As they drove back to Bunyan, driving past Lucy's place so she could just look to see if there were any worries, as you could never trust Decadence to watch over Jenny, but the house wasn't on fire, so they continued on up to Bunyan.

And they had a quiet lunch, and Shelandragh seemed at peace, quiet, gentle. Accepting. And in the end, thought Daniel, serene.

* * * * *
Shelandragh, Lucy and Decadence were sitting together at the old Chakolan school house, Shelandragh attempting to teach Decadence knitting, a Bridges boy just outside fixing a tractor.
'Shelandragh?' asked Lucy. 'What is your favourite book on Magic?
Shelandragh looked at her sternly. 'It's an academic one. Sort of prefer the academic approach now.'
'Why is that?' asked Lucy.
Shelandragh looked at her with a face. 'Oh, Lucy. A witch is a witch is a witch. But Academia is the end of my witchcraft, in more ways then one, and I study the wisdom of Magic more so, now.'
'Which book?' asked Lucy again.
'The Golden Bough. By Sir James George Frazer. It is my tome of study most of the time now. And that Rainbow Torah Daniel published.'
'You study the Rainbow Bible?' asked Lucy excitedly.
'The Rainbow Torah,' corrected Shelandragh. 'The Scripture part. Daniel's work is interesting, but not my consuming passion.'
'Oh, Genesis 1:1 to 11:9,' said Lucy.
'The Scripture I have agreed with God to abide by.'
'Right,' said Lucy.
Shelandragh looked at Lucy. 'And, Lucy. Do...........you. Have a favourite work?'
Lucy nodded.
'Mmm,' said Shelandragh. 'And.........it is?'
'It's an animist one,' said Lucy softly.
Shelandragh weighed up a decision of long ago, and nodded to herself. 'I guess, then, it would be. Wouldn't it.'
'It's Body and Mind: A history and Defense of Animism by William McDougall,' said Lucy.
Shelandragh nodded. She was familiar with the work.
'I have a favourite book too,' blurted out Decadence.
Shelandragh and Lucy looked at her.
'It's a religious one,' she said. 'A short work.'
'What is it?' asked Lucy.
'It's by Kahlil Gibran. It's called The Prophet. It's sort of alternative Monotheistic thinking, really.'
'Oh,' said Lucy.
'Interesting,' said Shelandragh May, looking at the girl.
'And I follow the Rainbow Torah as well,' said Decadence. 'I like Daniel's teaching, but the Scripture of the Bible comes first, I suppose. Or more as a priority than first. I have my own religion in it. It's called 'The Voice of the Prophet Ministries'. I use the Rainbow Torah and The Prophet as centring spirituality for my life. I read them quite a lot and, sort of knowing what I know from Animism, I let the spirit of it grow within me. It has a feel to it, a texture.'
'I've noticed it,' said Lucy softly.
Decadence looked at her stunned. 'YOU HAVE?'
'Sort of very aware of spiritual stuff,' said Lucy shyly. 'So much of it out there, you know. But your stuff is really deep Decadence. Very attractive as well.'
Decadence smiled. 'Why thank you Lucy Potter.'

They sat in silence for a while, and Shelandragh was happy at her work. But Lucy noticed, as the day passed, Shelandragh's head nodded down occasionally, and bye late afternoon she was snoozing quietly.
'It's not like her,' said Decadence. 'She always has so much energy.'
'I know,' said Lucy.
'It's like she's getting – old!' said Decadence, looking at Shelandragh.
'I know,' said Lucy.
Decadence turned to look at Lucy. 'She never gets old.'
Lucy pursed her lips and gazed at Shelandragh. Even immortals, in the end, had to face their mortality.

* * * * *

Lucy was cleaning up out in the garage of her home next to the pool in Cooma. There was so much junk which had accumulated for a while. She sat there, sorting through it, deciding whether or not to keep this or that item and, at the end, frustrated, she was supposed to have two piles – one for keepers and one for chuckers. It was all in the keepers pile.
'Your terrible,' said Daniel.
'Oh, I can't part with anything,' said Lucy. 'Look at this.'
Lucy opened an old photograph album of her and the kids of chakola, Madalene, Jayden and Georgia and herself, all messing around at the farm. After a while she started crying and put the album down and sat down on the steps.
Daniel picked up the album, sat next to her, and started leafing through the pages.
'You miss them,' he said softly.
'They were my best friends. Why is it that some of us stay alive, and some of us just die? Far too soon, Daniel. Far too soon.'
'It was there time, Lucy. They weren't chosen in the way we were. If we were really chosen in the end anyway. I don't know. Sometimes I get proud, you know, and I realize that our faith rewarded us with long lives. It was the tree of life in us, which came from the Torah, and the Torah is not the Gospel, and that is just the way it goes. They were Catholics, and their childhood faith was what set the pattern. It wasn't in them to believe. It wasn't in me, either, back then. When I was Catholic. To believe in strange things life ancient lives like Noah lived. He lived to 950 years of age, and Noahides had that promise all along, and Shelandragh has always accepted that also, even if she is a Christian. So, you know, it is sort of in them as well, but the faith of the Church then, and now, doesn't really believe it. Those long lives. They never accepted really as the truth. Madalene certainly didn't, but later on a little, and lived a fair while because of it. But, that said, neither do Jews really, or many modern Noahides. It's just sort of acknowledged as a possibility.'
'Then why did you believe it?' asked Lucy.
He looked at her. 'Why did you?'
'Because its my fucking religion,' she said, and stood, and walked on to the grass. She was in a mood. 'It's my fucking religion, ok. I'm a karaite noahide, and the bloody bible is true, and God is real, and people never give a shit regardless. And it pisses me off.'
Daniel just looked at her.
She glared at him, but softened, and came back to sit next to him. 'Decadence believes, you know. That Noah really lived that long. Says its definitely true. She knows, you know.'
'We are either the lucky ones, or cursed to walk this wicked world alone,' replied Daniel.
'I have you,' replied Lucy, cradling against him. 'And a schmuck called Enrique when he bothers showing.'
'I heard from him last week. He's in Spain. Doing his thing.'
Lucy nodded. 'Long life,' she said after a while. 'But in the end, even then, it doesn't last forever. Even Noah died in the end.'
'Yes. And I have a few more grey hairs these days as well, Lucy. You know.'
She smiled. 'Mine are dyed. But there's a few.'
'Then let us live long, prosper and be happy,' smiled Daniel.
And Lucy cradled again against him, and didn't mind when Daniel picked up the book and they relived old memories.

* * * * *

And so the days passed, and Lucy sat out on the edge of the little theatre often, sitting there, thinking on Shelandragh and life, and the mystery of it all. She sat there, in her heart, slowly letting go – for the snoozes had turned a little dark, for coughing was becoming prevalent, and blood was in the phlegm more often than not. Shelandragh always said 'Never mind about that', and Lucy tried not to. But she knew. She knew. And then, one day, it was quiet, and gentle, and grey and overcast, and Bunyan had steady soft rain all day, and when Lucy looked upon the sleeping Shelandragh late that day, she wasn't sleeping anymore. Not an earthly sleep anyway. And Lucy, despite herself, made the sign of the cross, and sat out in the kitchen and quietly wept. And a funeral came, and a funeral went and a life was dedicated to eternity.

She watched the skies after that, at the little theatre, and sometimes it rained, and sometimes it rained. She was in the melancholy of Lucy Potter, a melancholy she had not really known before. But, in the deepest heart of it, while she knew there was a passing which had already come and gone, a passing which she would hardly ever get over any time soon, there was a hope – and a love. There was a love because there was a faith that a better place awaited a loved soul. A better place and a brighter tomorrow. A brighter tomorrow.







A few years later, Jenny Potter was sitting with Lucy and looked at her mother suddenly. 'You know, mum. I didn't know her that well. But would you tell me all about Shelandragh May?'
And Lucy looked at her beloved daughter and sighed and said 'Heaven's above, Jenny Potter. Now what on earth am I going to do with you?'

THE END


An Excerpt from the upcoming 'Jenny Potter'

Lucy Potter's Hogwarts House

Lucy sat on the chair, waved at her daughter Jenny, who was next to go, and smiled at those gathered. An honorary house for the cousin of Harry Potter. What an honour. Of course, it would be Gryffindor. What other house could it possibly be. Harry was Gryffindor. Hermione was Gryffindor. Ron was Gryffindor. Everything revolved around the glory of Gryffindor.

The hat was put on, and started munching away on her thoughts, and grumbled.
'Mmm. Keen mind. Like its cousin. Intelligent. Perhaps too intelligent. And oh so very moral. Religious, even. Very strict. Assumes Gryffindor. Assumes it as clear as the day is light and the night is dark. Assumes it so very, very much. But, no. I think not. That would be far, far too easy.'
Lucy was shocked, and Jenny looked alarmed.
'No. This one has a different destiny. This one belongs in - House Hufflepuff.'
The hufflepuff house cheered, and as Lucy stood, and with a puzzled yet apologetic look to her daughter Jenny, made her way, instead of over to house Gryffindor, to the very happy looking Hufflepuff students. She had found her new home


Jenny, approaching the seat, stared at the house. 'Are you sure you know what you are doing?' she asked it.
'Young lady. I have been sorting out students into their houses since Merlin was a lad. Well, almost. Sit, sit. We will soon see what we make of you.'
Jenny, reluctantly, sat, and the hat concentrated.
'Mmmm. As smart as her mother. Quite. And oh so noble of heart. Yet gentle, too gentle it would seem for her natural house. Too quiet. No, like her mother. 'House Hufflepuff.'
'Figures,' said Jenny, and went over to sit next to her mother.
'Perfect,' said Lucy, holding her daughter.

'Does the valiant man who so nobly spoke with our Centaur wish to partake?' queried Dumbledore.
Daniel, sitting nervously next to his wife Lucy, said nothing initially. 'Oh. You know. I am just here as a guest.'
'Nonsense,' said Dumbledore. 'Like Lucy let us grace you with an honorary house. It is the least we can do after your kind act of generosity in saving Hogwarts.'
'Oh. Ok,' said Daniel. He came forward, sat, and the Hat started its cogitations.
'It was quite for a few moments and, finally. 'Well, laddy oh. You do have your own style, I admit. And try as you might, with all that fire in the belly, you just don't fit in Slytherin. A softer side. But your no hero, despite what your vanity might assume, and you would find Hufflepuff far to easy for your intellect. 'HOUSE RAVENCLAW.'
Daniel nodded, came over and sat next to Lucy, who quickly put her hand in his. A choice had been made, though. They were NOT completely alike. He was in another house. In Ravenclaw.