Hestia was the Greek goddess of the hearth, home, and family. The hearth was essential for warmth and food preparation. She was known to be gentle and peaceful, and Aristotle writes that the crackling of a fire is the sound of the goddess laughing.

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h a n n a h

I had just finished polishing the last of the beer mugs when Neville called my name from outside. The front door was wide open, and he stood on the street, his back to me. I ignored him, as I usually did. He was always wanting me for the most unimportant things.

Babe, a branch has fallen in the yard.

Babe, this rather angry dwarf's looking for the landlady. Wants to know why we don't serve Pickled Eels anymore.

He called for me once more, louder, his voice tainted with a strange uncertainty. I threw down the towel in a huff and joined him outside. He turned around, his features twisted with an expression of terror. On his outstretched arm, a large raven perched, bigger than any bird we had ever seen.

"Neville..." I breathed, halting myself at the doorway. "What the fuck is that?"

He was shaking so much he could barely speak. "I- I- I think it has s- something for y- you."

Attached to its feet was a leather holder, and rolled up in it, a piece of parchment. It stood very still, balanced carefully and staring at me with its beady black eyes. I held out an arm in caution. "Okay, babe. I'm going to come to you, alright? Don't move a muscle."

As I approached the raven, something about it struck me with a familiarity. I had seen it somewhere before, years ago. It looked like... like...

"Blackbeard?"

It cocked its head at me in response. My mouth fell open as I rushed to it, much to Neville's shock. I pulled the note from its leg and unfurled it.

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Dear Hannah,

I hope you've been doing well with the Leaky Cauldron.

I know this must come as a bit of a shock, me writing to you. But I really need your help.

Angel's gone. I can't find her anywhere. We had an argument, and I left the house. When I got back, she wasn't there. Codrus has not seen her.

Some of her clothes are missing, and Rutherford said she's gone on holiday. I don't know why, but I have a feeling he's lying. I know for a fact she hasn't run away, and that she isn't with you or Susan, either. Angel would not up and leave like this. I think she might be in danger.

I'm writing to you and Susan now to ask for your help. If you know anything about this at all, I'm begging you to tell me. Help me find her.

Please. She's all I have left in this world.

Draco Malfoy

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"What is it? What's happened?" Whether Neville was trembling from anxiety or the weight of the bird, I could not tell. I folded the note deftly into my pocket.

"It's Draco," I said, hurriedly. "Angel's missing."

"Missing? How? Wait- Babe! What am I supposed to do with this... bird?" I could not hear the rest of his whining, already climbing the stairs two at a time.

Our quarters above the inn were small, but fit all it needed to. There was a large couch, and at the far end, a large bed that Neville kept neat every day. He did most of the housekeeping around here, anyway, while I busied myself with the paperwork and supervising during work hours.

It was a simple life, and I liked it. Every day was the same: rise at seven, have our breakfast, give the place a little sweep, and we would be ready to serve lunch by eleven. Maureen McKinley, our surly bartender, would be grumbling behind the taps, while Grimwald, a cheery thirty-something Hogwarts dropout, would be standing by the cleaned tables with his tray and tea towel, ever-ready to serve with a stupid smile on his face.

Our customers were a funny band of folk - witches and wizards of all sorts, haphazard warlocks, dwarfs and the like. I enjoyed the variety - it brought something different to the every day mundane.

Neville was a gem, helping me any way he could. He swept the floors, kept everything in order, and perhaps most important of all: he would always find the time to have a chat with the customers. This was what brought them back every time - our hospitality and acceptance.

This life had been so fulfilling that the war had become nothing but a distant memory. The danger we had been plunged into, the exploding walls, the screaming and crackling of spells had become a faded photograph in my mind. Our lives in the cosy inn were untouchable.

But all of that was thrown out the door with the arrival of Draco's letter. The Death Eaters were real, and they had been out to kill us, did not matter who. We had been nothing but sacks of meat that stood in the way of the Voldemort and Harry.

Neville and I had battled them. He had beheaded one of Voldemort's own Horcruxes, and I had set one of them on fire, smiled as I watched him burn. But all that meant nothing. We had merely been defending ourselves. But the Death Eaters, they had actually wanted to see us dead.

They were out there now, and they might have taken my best friend. Why? Because she had denied them a life by pushing Draco out of the way? Because her fantastical display of insolence almost killed one of theirs? But the rebounded curse had not harmed anyone. Barnabas still lived. Why was it such a big deal?

The truth was, I knew nothing. All I was certain of was that Angel was missing, and I would do everything in my power to find her.

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s u s a n

I leaned back in the chair, quill dangling loosely from my fingers. I would never be able to finish this book. Everyone had heard of a Chimaera, but writing about one, profiling it, and putting it all into words for an audience to understand was a near-impossible task in and of itself.

I glanced at the clock and sprung from my desk. "Shit!" I mumbled, racing to the kitchen. The place looking like a potion experiment had gone wrong, but I managed to find the two bowls after a lot of rummaging.

"Shit, shit, shit." I grabbed two chunks of meat from the freezer and threw them into the bowls, my hands stinging from the cold. I tapped my wand to the red hunks and said a warming spell. The meat began to defrost, but I did not bother waiting. The bowls were larger than the monstrous pots the Hogwarts elves used, barely fitting under my arms as I hurried to the backyard, as fast as I could without tripping.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Strange, I thought. Basilius and Perseus should be growling and yapping by now - it was a whole hour past their feeding time.

The two of them came into view as I rounded the corner. But instead of rushing to me in impatience, they seemed preoccupied with something on the ground.

As I neared, I saw that it was a raven, and a bloody big one at that. It seemed unbothered by the hulking beasts that snuffed and sniffled at it with their wet noses and rough tongues.

"Bassy, Persy, dinner!" I trilled. They seemed reluctant to break away from the bird, but their aching bellies were stronger than their curiosity, and they bounded eagerly to me. As they clamoured over their bowls, I turned my attention to the raven.

Black wings burst from its back as it lifted itself onto the fence next to me. I saw the leather strap on its foot and knew immediately. "Blackbeard!" I cried in happy recognition, before stopping myself short.

Blackbeard belonged to Draco. What could possibly be so urgent that Draco, of all people, felt the need to write to Susan, who, in his own words, "lived in a zoo in the middle of nowhere", and whose only companions were "a pair of slobbering, mangy dogs"?

It could only be one of two reasons: either Draco had completely lost his mind, or something had happened to Angel.

With shaking hands, I unscrolled the parchment.

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Basilius and Perseus could sense that I would not be returning any time soon. "Now, you two be good, okay?" I brought their snouts close to mine, and they whined in protest. "I know, I know. But this is important. Aunt Luna's going to take very good care of you. I promise."

They carried on their racket after me as I made my way to the door. "Don't worry," Luna watched as I hauled my bag onto my shoulders. "They're in good hands."

Basilius and Perseus came almost up to Luna's shoulder, and I seriously doubted she could handle them. Nonetheless, I shot her a grateful smile. "Thank you for doing this, Luna. And please, help yourself to anything you want. It's the least I can do."

She nodded. "I do hope Angel's alright. It's very unlike her to leave like this."

I hesitated. "Is it, though?" I countered. "They've been going through some... things. Is it terribly far off to think she's just gone away for a bit of peace and quiet?"

"No." Luna's voice was quiet, but full of conviction. "She wouldn't. I saw it."

"Saw what?"

"The way she looked at him, of course! That night, in the Manor. She had forgotten who he was for a while. And then when she remembered, it was like a light came on. A light like that isn't turned off easily."

"Yes, Luna," I sighed. "But that was years ago. You haven't spoken much to Angel after that, have you? She's absolutely miserable with Draco!"

Luna was undaunted. "You'll see!" she chirped. "On your way now, or you'll be late to meet Hannah at the station."

I gave her one last look, my gaze sweeping to Basilius and Perseus, their black and white bodies pressing together like Yin-Yang, and then finally around the house. I had not slept anywhere else in the last two years.

"Goodbye, Luna," I said, rather forlornly. She waved after me. "Send them my love!"

This can't be as bad as Draco's making it out to be, I thought as I trudged down the path to the gate. He's freaking out for no reason, as usual. I was convinced Angel had just gone for a little holiday. She had been so desperate to get away from Draco.

Perhaps she had escaped somewhere to give birth in secret? No, she was not due for months yet. She had enough sense to know that. I quickly rubbed out the thought from my mind.

As I neared the gate, a cold fear seized me. The only reason I had not Apparated from my house was because it was physically impossible. I had cast protection charms over the compound - no one could get in or out.

Unlike Hannah, the war was still fresh in my mind. The battered and bloodied faces of our schoolmates, laid out like little tin soldiers on the floor of the Great Hall, silent and unmoving. I will never forget running about to fetch water, herbs, bandages; waving my wand over broken bones; the blood, oozing freely from open wounds. So much blood.

I drew a deep breath. There was no shame in being a coward. I was only protecting myself. I had already fought the war once. I would not need to do it again.

But it was too late to back out now. I was due to meet Hannah at King's Cross in five minutes. I took another deep breath as I steadied myself, taking in the crisp country air.

It would be simple. If Angel had indeed gone missing, my wit, together with Hannah's tenacity, and Draco's familiarity, would be enough to find her. Angel would explain that this has all been a silly misunderstanding, we would laugh, and everything would go back to to the way it was.

Right?

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A/N:

This is my first time writing from Hannah and Susan's POVs! I don't know if I will be doing this often as there's already Angel, Draco, and Amora, and I'm afraid the story will get too muddled.

What do you guys think? Do you enjoy reading their POVs? Should I make it a regular thing, or occasional? :)