June 9th, 1894 - Bixby Residence

Sloane was sitting on the sofa in the sitting room, staring pensively at the last bouquet of flowers Mr. Ashford had sent nearly a week ago. They were still lovely, must have come from the Potts' shop, as they always lasted forever. She currently looked like Sadie Sinclair, having rearranged her features into those of the woman Mr. Ashford had come to know, as it was the best evidence Sloane had to convince him she was the same person. Or was that person for a time? It was all still hard to wrap her head around and she struggled with meshing the two personas.

Alvin was lurking nearby, just in the other room as her mother couldn't handle seeing her in this different visage, though Sloane didn't think they looked all that different. Sadie was taller, and obviously blonde; her eyes more grey than blue, no freckles, but underneath it all, even when she looked in the mirror like this, Sloane still saw long lashes, and the same curve of her cheeks and jaw. Not the same babyface she was used to, but the nearly-eighteen-year-old that she was. She even had on one of the nice day dresses the Sinclairs had left with her, thinking it might help to ease the shock. Sloane didn't mind the dresses so much, she was used to wearing them now and though she would have never been caught dead in something so pastel in her previous life, she was not that person anymore. Which was something both she and those around her were having the hardest time with.

The minutes on the clock ticked by and as she switched between the clock, the window and the flowers, Sloane fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist to keep from losing her mind. Finally she heard the knock at the door and Alvin let Mr. Ashford in. Sloane stood, looking every bit the young lady Mr. Ashford was familiar with, but changed to the point of uncertainty. Sloane didn't even know what she wanted out of this, her world had been tipped right-side up again and she was on unsteady ground. Regardless, she owed him an explanation and he deserved to hear the truth from her directly. "Mr. Ashford, thank you for coming. Please, sit." She motioned to the other side of the sofa near the window where she had been perched, eyeing Alvin warily. He looked worn out and she understood the feeling. That was a later problem though.

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Jeremy Ashford

  

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Sadie's sudden absence from his life had hit Jeremy keenly. He'd been anxious in the week since he'd last called on her, pacing his floor, wracking his brain for any reason she would not want to see him. He'd called on her house the night after the Coming Out Ball, having not had a chance to see her there, and planning to follow through on their understanding. The small velvet box had been nestled in his breast pocket where his heart could thump it's thunderous pulse against it. Yet she was ill. His letters had gone unanswered each day cavernous between them. It had been a relief when she had at last written, and yet it had brought with it new worries. When she had asked for some time Jeremy began to wonder if he had been too hasty, if she were too young,. He knew his heart but did she know hers?

There was nothing that would have kept him away from calling (precisely at half past ten as his letter had specified) even the address that had been listed. Of course he had sought as much information as he could when he had received it and found that the Bixby family (of the flying accident last summer) resided there.

Taking a deep breathe Jeremy steeled himself as he entered the room. But there she was, well, and looking as much herself as ever. An unbidden smile crossed his lips even as his heart raced. But her words were so formal, as if the past few months had been nothing at all - as if her mind had changed. He was sure there was a flicker of pain on his face, but he did his best to hide it. He would allow her to lead this but his heart cried out, wanting to hear her say Jeremy, to give him the smile he had always known he could evoke from her. "Miss Sinclair." He bowed his head, his smile softer. He swallowed as he crossed over to the couch, but his resolve flickered and instead he turned and stepped toward her, his hands reaching out to clasp her own, "Sadie," Her name crossed his lips in a brush of air, soft as a whisper between them, "Tell me what's wrong." He gently squeezed her hands wishing he knew what to do, how to make whatever had happened better.

  

Alvin made himself scarce, just on the other side of the door that led to the house's tiny study. He could listen, surely, but he would hopefully bury his nose in a book and only be there if she needed him, though she doubted she would. She took her seat on the sofa, perched daintily on the edge, her hands in her lap, desperately trying to fight off the need to fidget. The strained formality she felt she needed at the moment was out of place. Sloane knew Jeremy, knew him to be kind and patient, romantic and sweet; but the girl he knew did not exist and Sloane couldn't be her either.

She smiled softly as he took her hands in his, preventing the inevitable quiver in her fingers. She wanted to thank him for his patience and understanding, for the flowers, for coming to see her after the whole debacle, but she was so caught up on what she was about to reveal to him that she didn't know how to phrase it all. "It's complicated," surely he must be wondering why he had been given this address, in this part of town. But he had shown up, no questions asked. "It might be easier if I show you." Holding on the transformation was easy for Sloane, it didn't take much conscious thought, but she could feel the twist of her natural state itching to go back to normal. She could feel the familiar pull of things changing as she let it go, hair fading to brown, eyes lighting up more blue, her freckles dotting her cheeks. The height wasn't noticeable as she was sitting, but would be if she stood up. Sloane didn't even reach a full five feet, where Sadie had stood a couple of inches over.

She was going to explain, but wanted to give him a minute to process first. Sloane truly didn't know what to expect, but she added, "My name is Sloane and I grew up here, in this house. Sadie Sinclair doesn't exist— or she does, but she's not me." She wondered if he would simply leave or if he had as many questions as everyone else and so she held her breath waiting to see what came next.

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The fact that Sadie's hands remained in his, that she smiled rather than pull away, Jeremy took as a good sign. Or at least that he wasn't the problem. But what else was it? She had been ill, had something happened? Worry knotted his gut.

It was complicated? Jeremy's brow furrowed, his mind swimming with possibilities. Just what had happened. But then... everything changed. Or rather it didn't, but Sadie didn't. He blinked, thinking that Sadie would be before him when he opened his eyes again, but instead it was someone else entirely who sat there with her hands held in his now slack ones. What? Who? His brain couldn't process what he was seeing, or rather it could, but not what she meant to tell him.

Then her voice floated to him, her voice, Sadie's voice, was hidden in it. His mind jumped to possibilities, but he tried not to consider them. He'd promised Sadie he'd give her a chance to explain. He let her hands fall and backed up, his hand swept across his jaw as it did when he was thinking. The back of his knees hit a chair and he found himself folding down into it, sitting before her. "I think-" He started in a shaking breathe. "You ought to explain, a bit more." Because he could hear his Sadie in that voice and he owed it to her to know everything before he reacted.

  

Realizing his reaction was completely understandable, Sloane pulled her hands back into her own lap, curling her fingers into her skirt as she watched him process. She couldn't put a name to the feeling holding her heart still, but it was easier to focus on the explanation than anything else. "I'm not sure if you're aware or not, but there was a weird storm over the park last summer," Sloane had a copy of the Daily Prophet from that day, detailing the accident and she held it out to him.

"I was caught in it. Everyone thought I died." For all intents and purposes, she pretty much had. "The healers think the lightning temporarily interfered with my metamorphmagus abilities, so I didn't look like me." She had explained this all so many times, to so many people, but this felt more important somehow. "I was found by the Sinclairs and because I didn't look like me, they took me in." It was a little weird; they found some poor amnesiac on the edge of the lake and just... took her home, but they had treated her well and for that Sloane was grateful. From what she could understand, they did have a granddaughter named Sadie, but she lived in the States with her family and didn't visit, ever. It was easy to pass her off, especially with no memories of her own. Sloane could tell that was particularly difficult for Mrs. Sinclair, to not have that relationship in her life.

This was a lot, so she paused for a moment, collecting her own thoughts before pushing on. "On the night of the Coming Out Ball at Hogwarts it sort of all came rushing back and so here I am. It's taken me a few days to get everything sorted and I thought it best to explain in person. I appreciate your patience." She still didn't know what she was doing here, what she wanted from him or he from her. They had been on the verge of getting engaged and while there were things Sloane knew about Mr. Ashford, there was much more that she didn't and he knew almost nothing about her now. Never mind the fact that the only place she felt truly comfortable at the moment was next door at her best friend's house, in his room, where nobody expected anything of her and she could wallow in her buried feelings for Lester and about everything else without anybody watching her.

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He did know of it, it was the very storm that had killed the daughter of the family whose home he now sat in. The very daughter.... Sloane Bixby. It was that very daughter who sat before him. Jeremy's eyes widened in the realization as she continued to speak. Her story made sense. He understood it, or at least the very timeline, he wasn't sure he would ever understand why the Sinclairs had acted as they had, but the rest made sense. Except, why hadn't she said anything?

She forged onward after a pause before he could say anything and it explained the past few weeks. He wanted to assure her she'd always have his patience, that he'd always be there for her, but questions flooded his mind. Ones he needed to be answered before he could act on such impulses. When she was done Jeremy was quiet, sorting through his thoughts. At last he found himself asking, "So, you didn't remember anything? The amnesia was real?" Because if it were, if it was.... for some reason that made all the difference.

  

"I truly didn't. I never questioned the story I was told. I do get terrible headaches and the explanation made sense. I didn't look like me." Now she knew there would be lingering symptoms; she had survived a lightning strike after all and the headaches and sometimes now the short-term memory loss were just a few that she could face for the rest of her life.

He still looked like he needed more information, so Sloane continued, "It wasn't until I went back to school, the only place I've ever really felt myself, that it all came back to me. All of my friends were there, my childhood best friend in the place where we spent so much of our time." It was poetic, if she really thought about it, that it had been Hatch of all people, on their dock at the lake where everything had ended and began, coming full circle somehow. That Sloane had missed out on her seventh year was something she was still grappling with, mourning that loss of what was supposed to be the best year of her life. The girls had completed it without her and she couldn't fault them, life had to go on, but she had missed out on so much. But she'd had experiences of her own and the living proof was right in front of her and she was going to answer every question he had, he deserved that much.

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He could hear Sadie again, hear it in her words, her voice, her passion, the way her face tugged just there as it did when she was earnest on the matter she was speaking. Sadie. His Sadie. The woman he loved. She was still in there. She was hurting and in pain. And going through so much yet again.

And Hogwarts. It all fit. Her desire to go there, her love of Hogsmeade, the way she had admitted it felt like home. He couldn't imagine the struggle she was going through now. Jeremy found himself standing up, walking back to her, "May I?" He asked nodding to the seat beside her on the couch. He desperately wished he could take the pain from her, pull her hands in his again and tell her it was alright. But this was a tender truth she was telling him and as such he had to treat it delicately. And so he would, Sadie - Sloane - she deserved that.

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   Sloane Bixby

Well, at least he wasn't running from the house without a backward glance. Sloane didn't know if that would have been easier or not, the whole thing was so complex. At this point in time she knew the only person's feelings she could be responsible for were her own. Even if she didn't truly understand everything she was feeling, every emotion bubbling under the surface like a cauldron ready to spill over, Sloane knew that she had to let everybody process this in their own time. Each experience was different, personal and they would never fully understand one another, but at least they could show some empathy.

She nodded when he asked to sit again and she managed a slightly more genuine smile.

"It's a big adjustment. I—" she was about to say she didn't know what that meant for them, but the more she thought about it, the more she was sure she couldn't commit to anything, not right now. Sloane wasn't even sure that's what she wanted? It was a huge mess and she didn't have the answers yet, but she hoped she would eventually. "Thank you for letting me explain."

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Relief welled in him as she let him sit beside her, his knees angled toward her. She seemed so small, so delicate next to him. There was a smattering of freckles across her nose, he could see that now, but the warmth in her eyes - he knew he hadn't been imagining that.

I... It lingered in the air between. He gave her the time and space to finish though, waited to see what would follow. When no real answer did, Jeremy met her gaze, this time capturing her hands in his own again. "I will always listen to you." He promised earnestly, ducking his head down to meet her gaze. "It's an adjustment, but it's one we can sort through."

If there was ever a time to take a leap, this was it. It wasn't the leap he had expected, but it was one none the less. He took a breathe in. "I know this is different, but, if you'll let me, I'd like to be here, to support you, to help you." His hand reached out and brushed a stray bit of hair from her forehead as if it were the most natural gesture in the world. "I made you a promise once." He reminded her, thinking of that afternoon that now seemed so impossibly long ago, where he had promised her the world - his world. "I intend to keep it, however you will let me." His brown eyes met her unfarmiliar ones. She wasn't the girl he had fallen in love with, but she wasn't not that girl either. He owed her, and himself, the chance to figure this out, to find out just who she was despite everything had had happened.

  

He had always been so earnest, so true that Sloane believed him, even if it sounded crazy. She wasn't the same person he had met; she lived an entirely different lifestyle, she wasn't even eighteen yet, she had a whole life she needed to sort out again. It was overwhelming and it felt impossible, but Sloane supposed she could use a friend through it all. Because to him, she had existed in that year she was gone from her normal life. Jeremy had been there throughout most of it, it was proof she hadn't just been gone, like she was to everyone else. Sloane needed that lifeline to cling to. Hopefully she would be able to blend the two together and it would be easier if she had pieces of both sides.

The contact of his hands on hers and the gentle caress at her face had her smiling. "I'm going to need time, a lot of it." Sloane admitted and though she believed him when he said he intended to keep his promise, the circumstances had changed and she wasn't sure she could follow through on her end. She couldn't blame him if he didn't want to wait, especially when she could make no guarantees that it would work out in his favor. "There's so much to figure out, I don't even know where to start, but my family has to come first." They had suffered the most and needed her the most. Sloane had to figure herself out at the same time. There was so much to sort through that she simply couldn't add Jeremy into the mix yet. "I don't know what that means in the long run, but I'm willing to try." That was all she could do.

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"I can give you time." He promised, his voice solemn and quiet, his hand landing feather light along her jaw. He would do more than wait for her. He'd be there every step of the way if she allowed him. Jeremy could only hope his gaze told her of his own earnestness.

Her family. Of course, his hand fluttered back to his side. He and Sadie- Sloane - weren't the only ones who had been affected. He should have considered her family before now. "Of course." He let his hand fall, wondering if this would be the moment she would toss him to the side. Break off the unofficial agreement they had come to.

But then her worried bouyed him back up. "That is more than I could have asked for." Jeremy's voice assured her. "Trying. Giving me a chance." Again he took her hand, holding it in hers.

Then feeling the moment almost too tender and raw Jeremy forced a smile. "Tell me about them. Your family." A change in conversation, something familiar and comfortable. As he wasn't acquainted with the Bixbys it was rather a good question to ask. "For instance, will your brother come out of there in a fury for this?" He nodded down at their entwined hands, a chuckle in his voice making it evident that he was joking.

  

Sloane was both encouraged and nervous about his willingness to work through it with her. She had no idea what it would lead to and she didn't want to get his hopes up, but she was glad to have somebody in her corner. Not that her family and friends weren't supportive, but they could only see the once side of her, the one they knew before and Jeremy represented the new side. She would need both if she was going to blend everythign together. It was impossible to just go back to the way things were, but she would figure it out. She hoped.

"I am the youngest of five, all older brothers." It explained a lot about who Sloane had been; a tomboy with a loud mouth and an even louder personality. "I had a twin, but he passed in infancy." Something she always had hidden, but didn't feel the need to anymore. "If Alvin knows what's good for him, he will stay put." She chuckled, raising her voice enough for him to hear. The audible grumle of a huff meant he heard her too. "He's my second oldest brother, Rufus plays quidditch and is married with children of his own. Alvin used to make brooms, but not anymore." Wow, there really had been a lot of tragedy in their family. "Then there's Harry, he's the normal one." Harrison never seemed to cause waves, thank Merlin. "And Wally, he's recovering from the dragon attacks that happened last September." The biggest change since coming home. She had missed all of that, had only heard of it in the paper on the Sinclair estate, but had been so far removed hadn't put too much thought into it.

"Pa's a quidditch coach and Mum works in the Broom Regulatory Office. We do a lot with quidditch around here. I used to play, very competitively. I was going to play professionally, but..." She trailed off, unsure as to whether that was something could do or even wanted to anymore. Strange.

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Five older brothers? Jeremy felt his eyes widen, how many would he need to worry about trying to protect her? Before it had only been her, or rather who he had thought, aunt and uncle and both had known him and been predisposed to him.

Jeremy listened, his lips quirking up in a half smile at the comment about the brother who had let him in and the sound from said brother. But overall he tried to absorb the information. He had heard of the elder brother, he realized, as he, like most men he knew, followed quidditch. And it seemed that a great many tragedies had unfolded for the Bixby family. As she spoke he also realized why the Bixby name seemed so familiar for a family he knew nothing of: they were involved a great deal with quidditch in multiple generations.

"So the riding accident, it did happen,"Jeremy found himself prompting, "But, it wasn't a horse, then?" Thinking of his Sadie and how much she had wanted to ride, it was going to take a moment to picture a broom instead of a horse. He had often envisioned her excitement when he took her meet the horses in his stable, a day which had never taken place, how he'd watch her stroke the muzzle of the horse, a fondness for the creature itself. He simply couldn't see that with a broom - nor did he think he would look upon it quite as favorably if she did.

  

It was a lot, she realized. The version of her that he'd known had been an only child, with just guardians to contend with. Now it was several older brothers, an overprotective mother and her father, who was probably the most harmless of them all.

His question about the accident had her thinking back to the evidence she'd gathered in case he'd needed more convincing. She pulled a copy of the paper that her mother had kept, detailing the accident from the side table. Sloane still didn't remember much of that day and it was probably for the better. She handed over the Prophet for him to look at. "I was flying over the lake." So it had been a riding accident, but like he'd surmised, not on a horse, though she had come to love that sort of riding too. It felt a little safer than flying right now. She missed it, but wasn't brave enough yet to give it another go.

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Last summer when news had broken about a girl's death in Hogsmeade Jeremy had paid the sort of attention to it that one did when it affected politics of where one lived. But he hadn't known the family, hadn't been intimately connected to the news in any way. Now, seeing the headline, ice filled his veins. It was the woman he loved, the one sitting before him - and not sitting before him at the same time. For Sadie- Sloane - to have gone through such a thing, he could barely stomach the thought.

After a glance at the paper and the renewed horror of what had happened Jeremy set it aside, focusing on her instead. "It explains why you always wished to fly." He mentioned gently, trying to accept this, to get them back on track. He wanted to ask if she'd consider flying again, or riding again, but he felt it wouldn't be right to do so. Instead he sought about for more stable footing once again.

"So you're related to the famous Rufus Bixby." He mused, trying to half a chuckle. "He was a year a behind of me at school." Jeremy found himself admitting. Rufus had been a ball of energy back then and all of the girls had been quite taken with him. "'How has he been?" It seemed only polite to inquire.