September 1972
Almost 8 years late
Helga stepped into the garage just as closing time hit. In her hands was a large . . thing. Whatever it was, it was covered covered in a large blanket and was almost the height of herself.
When she had bought it, it had been smaller. Small enough that she kept it in her room, caring for it as it grew, and grew. Time had slipped away - she had always intended to give it to Dienne but it needed to be perfect.
Well. Maybe perfection could wait.
The last year had felt like a lifetime, leaving Hogwarts with no prospects. It was easy to fall into old habits and crowds. Yet - no matter what she was up to, there was no question: she would never steal from here.
"Dienne?" Helga called out, shifting on her worn shoes. Her outfit, despite it looking like it was from a thrift store, looked well maintained and immaculate, a testiment to her sewing skills. "Do you have a minute? It's Helga."
She didn't clarify her last name - who else would be cursed with a name like that?