January 27, 1547
She took a moment to check the spelling again. It had to be correct. The Boleyns had always hated her, because her father Thomas was
adopted by Sir William when he was a boy. Her father Thomas Boleyn, the squib. The Earl of Wiltshire’s true name was Thomas Gaunt,
given to Sir William at birth, when it was discovered he was a Squib. Ironically, two of Sir William’s sons John and Anthony had to
fake their deaths as children, when it was discovered the Boleyn boys were wizards. Nicholas Potter adopted them and later his
daughters married them. She had always felt like an outsider. Her vapid older siblings Mary and George always seemed so happy.
Although George was born after her, he still treated her like she was younger, following her accident. It still galled her that she
lost 6 years of her life due to her father’s foolishness. She deeply missed her late parents. The Gaunts wanted nothing to do with her,
due to her half‐blood status. They had only taken her in, due to the promise of gold, which her father gave out of obligation more than
anything else. She was able to buy a wand from Olivander’s. And despite no actual training, she soon surpassed the Gaunts in ability.
She took a position at Olivander’s; despite the horror of her father. She enjoyed making wands, it allowed her to focus and accelerate
her skills. She could honestly say the only good thing about being with the Gaunts was being with her sons. Henry and Richard were
growing into formidable young wizards.
Both were currently at Hogwarts. Henry was in his third year, Richard in his second year. It was hard for them as both boys were born
premature and only 5 months apart. Richard desperately wanted to go to Hogwarts early, but Anne wouldn't have it. She remember having
to endure the memory that Henry was miscarried. She was still a little mad at Jarleth Hobart, who used a Memory Charm to make her think
that she miscarried Henry and that Richard was stillborn. The unusual nature of their births had led her friend Druella Potter,
Nicholas' daughter, to suggest that her magic had traveled into her womb to make the boys. She didn't know if it was true but it
didn't really matter.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, my father knows Dominic Rosier, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He is looking for any
reason to go after the Gaunts. They made a big deal of his mother being a half‐blood. Casting such a powerful transfiguration spell on
a Muggle King is..." "He is dying, Druella! He murdered my best friend! He would have murdered me if I didn't somehow cast a Gemino
Curse and disapparated out of my prison! And I did it without a wand! So if I can do that, I can cast this transfiguration spell on
him!" she responded. "Anne Boleyn, I'm your best friend! If you do this, the Wizengamot could assemble a gathering to get you! Think
about the boys!" she pleaded. "I have thought about them. And I must do this!" declared Anne.
Before Druella could say anything else, Anne was gone. Walking through the Palace of Whitehall was difficult as the two Charms weaved
around her would not prevent a Muggle from touching her. If she was touched, the Concealment and Disillusionment Charms would likely
count for nothing. She remembered the book she read on the Confuding Charm. She waved her wand, watching as a number of servants seemed
confused. She decided to practise a charm she had been working on. "Opturbo" she thought in her mind. To her amazement, a few of the
servant girls looked nervous. One of the males scratched his hand nervously. A few began sweating.
Anne moved quickly as the servants seemed distracted by something around them. A number of them wondered around confused. She held her
mirror in her right hand, her wand in her left as she made her way to the King's Chambers. She opened the door, waving a terrible curse
on the men and women inside. "Leave!" she commanded. As one, the attendants moved away. Anne began casting a number of charm, hexes,
jinxes and curses to keep away anyone who would enter. She approached the man, engorging and fat as he was. "Oh Henry! What have you
done to yourself? You were once so glorious! Truly our Lord and Saviour has indeed, inflected upon thee a most terrible affliction. I
will now continue it in a different form!"
Anne took a breath, waving her wand against the mirror. Isabel Carew was sleeping, recovering from a brief bout of fever. Isabel Carew
was the daughter of former favourite Sir Nicholas Carew. Unbenownst to many, all of Carew's children were Henry's. Isabel was the twin
of Francis Carew, an energetic young knight. Sir Francis wanted her to marry the son of a MP of the Commons, Nicholas Saunders. Isabel
wanted to be a nun, impossible since the dissolution of the monasteries. She wanted to leave for the Continent and serve God. Her
brother would never allow that to happen. Anne waved her wand and the pensieve left her Chanerie and went through the mirror. She
focused on the mind of Isabel and weaved the spell. Her memories flowed into the Pensieve. "Choose!" she whispered. Isabel stated in
her sleep. "I want to serve God, in this life or the next!"
Anne waited until the Pensieve was full before summoning it back. She focused first on Isabel then on Henry. "Res Verto!" she cried.
The light filled both rooms. Anne weaved a Shield Charm around her as a loud bang threw her back. She rose quickly, seeing her wand and
hearing voices. She leapt on the wand, swiftly casting her spells. She twirled the wand around her, removing all traces of what had
happened. With a quick snap, she was gone. She found herself in Bedgebury Forest, not far from the estates of the Carews. She took a
moment to breathe before she fortified herself. She checked the pensieve was there. To her relief, it was there and intact.
She disapparated back into Isabel's chambers. She focused her wand, chanting "Legilimens!" She was delighted by what she saw. She
pulled out before she saw what she feared. "This is for you Jane, my faithful friend!" she declared. She grabbed Isabel's hand and they
found themselves in Bedgebury. Isabel was still asleep, Anne was relieved that a Memory Charm and Stunning Spell was not required. She
was not as proficient at Stunning as she would like. It was one of the two more basic spells she struggled with, Disarming being the
other. She turned to Isabel still sleeping and whispering "Caldor Corpus" followed by "Nudo Corpus!" She paused to watch as Isabel
glowed blue as her clothes removed themselves from her.
It was traditional for Muggle women to sleep without clothes. It struck her as indecent that Isabel wore nightgowns which were highly
immoral. Perhaps this was to be expected of a young nun? Anne was not a Papist and was not clear if this was expected now of those who
followed Rome. Regardless she took a moment to examine the young 18 year old. Isabel had celebrated her the anniversary of her 18th
year, two weeks earlier. Anne sighed, drinking in her beauty. "I still love you, Henry. Even after what you did to me and Jane! Sweet
dreams, my King!" she declared as she left Isabel Carew formerly Henry the Eighth King of England, France and Wales and Lord of Ireland
to rest, exposed under a tree.
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