The Last Peverell

Chapter 4

Happy holidays!  Enjoy this really long chapter! 

Chapter 4

The morning Jasmine moved into Potter Manor was louder and a bit more chaotic than she had expected. The floo trip, as expected, was awful. She ended up sprawled on the wooden floor, soot from the fireplace covering her from head to toe. No matter how many bloody lives she lived floo travel just never agreed with her. Maybe it had to do with her connection to Death or maybe it was just that the magic didn't quite agree with her.

She dusted herself off and sat up, taking it slow. She was still recovering from her stay in the hospital and draining her magical core. She was going to become out of shape soon if she didn't start her training back up. Just another thing to add to her never-ending list of things to do.

Then as soon as she attempted to stand up, a small explosion echoed through the room, bringing her back to her knees. Euphemia was crouched on the floor in front of her with a fond smile on her face and a hand extended out to help Jasmine up. The Auror had to have noticed the confused look Jasmine's face. "That would be Monty. He's been trying to make a new potion for one of his business ventures and it hasn't been working as expected."

The manor rumbled precariously one more time before a distant shout of "I'm alright," echoed throughout the house. The voice was completely unfamiliar, slightly raspy, but distinctly male.

"Monty, get out of your potions lab, Jasmine is here!" Euphemia called and a crash sounded from the distance. Jasmine stood up and dusted herself off as she waited for Fleamont Potter to make an appearance. He hadn't come to visit her in the hospital, but Euphemia had mentioned something about his poor immune system and when Jasmine saw him for the first time she understood why she mentioned it. Fleamont Potter was a thin, pale, man with kind amber eyes and smile on his face. This was the man that had reinvigorated the Potter fortune with his line of haircare products. He didn't seem like much and it seemed odd that James was his son, while the had the same hair, he got quite a bit of his looks from his mother, from his high cheekbones to his mischievous grin. It was interesting to see what traits had been passed down.

"So, you must be the mysterious Jasmine that I've been hearing so much about," he walked up to her in three quick strides down the staircase and into the sitting room before engulfing her a tight hug. Jasmine felt tear prickle slightly at the corners of her eyes at hugging someone that she had considered a grandfather that she'd never gotten to meet. It was like a phantom dream come true.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm Jasmine, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she replied a wobbly smile on her face.

He tweaked her nose, making her go cross-eyed for a moment. "Nonsense, call me Uncle Monty. Sir makes me feel rather old. I'm a wizard still in the prime of his life," he told her, his brown eyes dancing.

She nodded and opened her mouth to ask something, but James came flying down the stairs, his hair a mess and a letter clenched tightly in hand, some ink staining his pale fingers. He seemed excited, especially when he came bounding up to Jasmine and pulled her in for another hug.

Jasmine had never really received too much physical contact in any of the lives she'd had, well maybe except the first two, she'd married and had children in those. But, after living your life nine times, love became an obstacle more than something enjoyable. She always had the single goal of repopulating the wizarding world, or just figuring out a way to stop everyone from dying out, which was to stop this war from happening.

She held back a sigh, knowing that it would be out of place in this moment, but she just wished she wasn't tasked with this burden alone. She'd had a plethora of friends in other lives, Theo, Blaise, Hermione, George and Fred had always been there for her in all her lives. She was going to miss them this time around.