This journey undertaken by Emily Browne and Zeke Rogers is set in muggle Birmingham during the latter part of 2082 and continues in 2083. It is life changing for both of them, in ways that neither would expect. Patience brings them together, hope binds them and faith leads them.

Chapter Index
Prelude
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six



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Prelude

A strong breeze whipped the auburn leaves into a frenzy at her feet, but still Emily persevered against the elements. Her pace was measured and deliberate as her feet continued along the unimaginative industrial cement path which deviated from the road side into the heart of the park. Grey clouds rumbled overhead, announcing the obvious threat of rain. It was another one of those dreary September days.

Emily's visits to Birmingham had been few and far between since she had left Hogwarts, but in recent times it had almost become a regular occurrence again. Spare time was not a luxury that she could afford – nor was it something she wanted, but the time she did have to spare, if not whiled away in the company of those few she'd grown to care about, she invested in humanity. Charity, was a means of justification for her, for the way she treated others... and the way she treated herself. It was what gave her purpose and instilled in her a sense of accomplishment that her work could not provide – even in spite of all her success. While London would have been the more convenient place for her to carry out her civic duties, Birmingham, her birthplace, felt more appropriate. It also reduced the risk of her being recognised by someone she knew, eliminating the need to answer awkward questions.

The walk from town, and down through St. George's Park was a serene one. There was little traffic on the roads, and the streets were void of muggle pedestrians, both likely the result of the pending bad weather, something that Emily was usually thankful for. With her hands thrust deep in her coat pockets, and her thick forest green scarf enveloping her in warmth, she took the fork in the path to the right, heading toward the playground and beyond it, the Community Hub. Though her head was bowed against the wind, she was conscious of the fact that she was approaching a modest crowd of children. Their high pitched wailing and shouting was unmistakable.

It was not unusual for the children in the area to be out and about in poor weather, unsupervised. The Hub had long been established in this end of town for good reason, because there were people in need of their assistance. The lowly, the old, the young, the unemployed and those that couldn't get by any other way. They were less sheltered, more street smart, and children grew up learning to fend for themselves. Most of the people that came through were transients, or temporarily down on their luck, some of the others – young families in particular, were more permanent fixtures at the organisation. Emily looked up as she neared the group, keen to see how many were present today. The children from the Hub were often let out to play with the others between meals. Though they were hardly satiated from the weak broth and bread, it must have offered them some small burst of energy and comfort, seeing as it enabled them to revel in a few moments of normality – as if they were everyday children enjoying a play in the park.

“Hey!” Emily called out, brows furrowed in distaste as her hazel eyes locked on three boys, who were surrounded by a small audience. “Leave him alone!” she commanded, quickening her pace a bit to impose her presence on them all. A number of those standing, watching, dispersed – these were the wise ones, the ones that didn't want to attract attention to themselves. They knew it would mean forfeiting a meal or the comfort of a mattress to sleep on.
“He stole from mah papa's shop miss,” answered a heavyset and well dressed red-head boy, his fist raised, ready to strike another blow.
Emily gave him her most disapproving look, before turning to the other two. A small mousy haired boy, his nose bloodied and chin scraped had his arms pinned back by a taller blond – though he was quick to let go, no doubt lacking the big-man bravado he'd boasted moments ago.
“How much did he steal?” she asked in a steady voice, turning back to the red-head.
The boy shrugged, “I dunno,” he muttered, “he took stuff, an' put 'em in his pants he did,” he added whilst pointing fingers. Emily's gaze returned to the mousy haired boy. She recognised him, didn't know his name... but knew he was one of the troubled ones, one of the more established residents.

Fishing in her pants pocket, Emily retrieved a small roll of muggle bills. Thumbing through them, she extracted a twenty and held it out between two fingers.
“That should cover it..” she said offering it to the red-head. “Now get going, I don't want to see you causing trouble in these parts again.” Her warning was fair. She'd be able to track him down and haul him to his parents by the ear if need be. Bullying, was not something to be tolerated, there was no justification for punching the boy in the face even if he was a thief. The red-head took the money and signaled to his friend to follow him, together they walked back up the path without looking back. That was one minor crisis averted for the day.

“Right, you,” Emily announced after the pause. The mousy haired boy wiped his nose on the inside of his sleeve, jumping slightly at the sound. “Don't tell anyone, please...” he murmured, his voice catching in his throat. She had a duty to report the incident, to get him looked over and returned to his mother – the white whisp of a woman who so helplessly passed her time at the shelter. Even if he was guilty of theft, Emily could hardly blame him, and if anything she felt compelled to help him out. “Let me check that,” she said, indicating to the scrape on his chin, ignoring his question for now.

The boy stood silently as she moved closer, not even flinching as she examined the superficial wound with with her hands. “You'll be fine,” she said after the examination. “Was it worth it?” her eyes were locked on his, anticipating a response. He didn't offer her an explanation nor a proper answer, but his nod told her enough. He deemed it to be worth a punch in the face, duly noted. She returned his gesture with a nod of her own. “And what did you steal?” she asked, pressing for details. Whatever it was, she could - in theory - get it for him. Food, chocolate, a toy, socks...
“Medicine,” he replied, a hand reaching into his pocket to remove a small box of generic pain relief. Emily shook her head, more to herself than to him. It was a sad day when a child so young felt the need to resort to stealing basic items that most took or granted. “You're not feeling well?” she asked, if he wasn't before, he certainly wouldn't be now – and had she not intervened when she did, he'd likely have been nursing a broken nose. “It's for my mum,” was his reply, and then she understood. It was a selfless act, leaving and risking the modest comfort of the Hub for something to ease his mothers pain. It would be a futile attempt at best, and he was smart enough to know it. The woman Emily had seen in his company was skin and bone, pasty white and likely, terminally ill with no social benefits to ease their discomfort.

“C'mon, let's get you cleaned up then,” she said, nodding her head down the path. The boy took a few steps, obliging her commands. Emily watched him from out the corner of her eye as they walked in silence, passing some of the other children along the way.
“You... won't tell them... will you?” he asked, breaking the silence. Emily paused mid-step, considering his request for the second time. “I'll only tell them what they need to know,” was her reply. She was here to volunteer, to make their lives better, easier, not to get them into trouble. His issue wasn't with her, it would be with the other children... they liked to talk. At any rate, the response seemed to be good enough for him as he continued walking, and Emily had to take a few long strides to catch him up.

Passing through the break in the parks low wall, Emily took the boys arm in her hand as they crossed the car park and steered him through the Hubs entrance. “Morning,” she offered a pair of volunteers as they went around the back of the administration counter to the small room designated for staff. “Sit,” she instructed in a low voice as she milled about the cupboard in search for antiseptic wipes and a band-aid. The boy sat quietly, swinging his legs as his eyes searched the room. Pulling up a chair beside him, Emily cupped his cheek in her hand and dabbed at the sore on his chin. She was mildly impressed, he didn't flinch or wince, not once. They watched each other with mirrored interest, but neither spoke another word. Once she was done with cleaning him up, Emily binned the rubbish and gestured to the door, indicating to him that he could go, only calling out when he reached the exit. “Sorry, I didn't catch your name?” The boy paused to turn around, “Zeke,” he said with a faint smile before disappearing out of the room.