Chapter Text
What is love, if not illness?
I don’t remember the person I used to be. I visit her in memories, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was about back then that made everything stick in the air like honey and linger like a first kiss. I don’t know anything; but I know you.
I’m going to recall our story, and by doing that, maybe I can bring you back to life. Maybe I can reconstruct your smell and your gravity on paper, and die with the ink from writing about you splattered all over my fingers. I will die stained and stamped, I will have something in the end. But this isn’t just our story. It’s also Hope’s, and Adrienne’s, and maybe Orion’s. Maybe it can explain the story of my son/s too.
“Amor vincit omnia.”
Love conquers all. The mudbloods have been wrong, yet again. I learned long ago that the only thing love can conquer is logic, and that is the one thing nobody should risk to sacrifice. Despite knowing this, I did love everyone. I loved Orion, I loved my sons, I loved Alphard and Cygnus. Her. However, that love did not conquer all; love does not owe you anything.
“But you owe it to yourself.”
“Oh, really?” I rolled my eyes.
They say that people who are nearing death have a distinct smell about them, and I've smelt it emanating around me since 16. But let’s go back to the times where I didn’t, rewind life on a reel and watch the place I am now set in stone, waiting for me, then zoom out and watch me get there. I remember these moments of my life vividly, because they are all that is left of me. Finally, all that time has come to a use. Bring me back to 1936, when there was not yet a gaping hole in the place my heart is meant to be.
Oh, and one more thing. This autobiography must not and will not ever see the light of day.
“I’m the pitted, stubborn depression that is rotting at the bottom of my gut like a parasite. And it is full of regrets, and it is full of sorrow. Empty promises, bitter grudges, and secrets not kept. But the voices in my head say that it is also young; that it doesn’t know how to live yet. For who am I if not a vessel for rage? For evolution?”
“Alph, I’m sure you can wait a few more years until it’s your turn to start Hogwarts. Plus, your sister will tell you all about it in her letters, so stop pestering her and don’t hang on my leg like a monkey.. I'm trying to read.” She pointedly inspected her copy of The Daily Prophet, the title VAMPIRES STRIKE ONCE AGAIN! In bold italics at the top. “You know, me and your father did not go through everything to have you three for you to act like this..”
She must have told us the story hundreds of times at that point. She and my father were only 17 and 13 when they had us, the only thing that kept them together was the strength that the possibility of being a loving family made them, how we should always put that first, etcetera etcetera. I still believe she was right. My father may have not set the best example but I know both of them tried. I’ve noticed that the story between a daughter and her father is often one of sorrow, but that does not mean it is something to look down upon. The love was still there.
I left the living room and up the creaky, mahogany coloured stairs to my bedroom. It had always been rather plain but now it has been stripped bare; the only thing of interest was a packed trunk at the foot of my bed. My stomach had been thrumming with excitement and anxiety for weeks now with the thought that I'd be going to Hogwarts so soon. Two months rolled into one, and one month slipped away into a day that familiar way summer does when you’re a child. I fished for a book in my trunk and slipped into my bed, under the hazy lavender covers, attempting to read. I always felt that reading is the only activity where time doesn’t fly away from me like sand in the wind, or a familiar melody I can’t name.
Door opening, slammed carelessly. Mother murmuring to someone quietly, the unmistakable sound of a bottle being loudly placed onto the table, father’s here. Should probably get Alph upstairs until he goes to sleep. Or is he already up? No, he isn’t I would have heard him I think. Should check. Should check. Should check.
I clambered out of my bed and snuck halfway down the stairs, crouching. With a general view of the dark, whimsical living room, my eyes drew themselves to places Alphard would be. On the rocking chair? No. At the toy train station? No. Making petty jabs at the portrait of our great-grandfather? No. I think he’s upstairs. Maybe I missed him coming up.
Just then, my eyes caught onto a familiar smaller figure, hiding behind the sleeves of the couch. I attempted to wave my arms for him to notice, to no avail. My father’s rambling was getting louder and I suspected that this was one of the nights where he began a warpath around the house and a string of insults fell out every time his eyes set upon any other organism, alive or dead. It hadn’t begun yet though, so before I knew it, my feet were padding down the rest of the stairs. I could almost hear the echo of all the young girls who had stepped upon those stairs before me, had my mother been one of them? Could they see me now? Would they understand?
Relying on my fathers one-sided drunken conversation with my mother at the front door for him to not notice me, I reached the foot of the stairs and felt the thick Persian carpet give way below me. A crisp, summer breeze blew in from the window of the kitchen, blowing some of my hair to one side. I could faintly see my brother's facial expression from here: a morbid curiosity but equal amounts worry, for my mother, no doubt.
“Please, Have some respect! What makes you think I would believe that you are coming from the Ministry hours late each day in a drunken stupor because you went out with friends? Your Ministry friends are far more sensible than to be partying every-”
“I knowwww Irma.. I know.. ‘kay! I just don’t understand.. Understand what you’re insinooatin’ ‘ere..”
His eyes must have begun to wonder, because my brother’s gaze latched onto me all of a sudden and I could feel a familiar scrutinising peering down down my back. Cold, crisp, sharp as ice going drip, drip, drip, from the tops of my head to the very soles of my feet. I resetted my face and turned around. This needs to be done properly. Spine cracked straight, head held high, Shoulders back.
“Father.”
“Walburga.” He scrunched his nose, in distaste or in judgement remains a mystery. He swatted the hanging cloves of garlic away and raised an eyebrow, weighing how much time I’m worth. “‘Ave you gained weight or sumthin’? You look heavier. “
“..I don’t think I ha-”
“Walburga! You’re failin’! You fail all the bloody time! Why? Do something right for once! It isn’t as hard as you think. You weren’t born into this family for nuthin’! Why’d our eldest have to be a stupid girl no one can see… she might as well be a bloody ghost..”
Those words followed me. Set the rest of my life in slow motion. Carved themselves into my back when I wasn’t looking. All those nights I stared up at my ceiling; in Hogwarts, in my room, in Grimmauld Place, the mattress pressed itself into the wound and the aching began all over again. I am exceptional at never letting things go, and I will always live with that.
Do something right for once, do something right for once, do something right for once, do something right for once, do something, something something, right, do it right, for once, do something–
I fisted Alphards wrist and left towards the stairs.
“N she’s just leavin! Jus’ like that! Irma I thought you had done a betta job teachin those kids some bloody decorum!” His voice carried itself up the staircase and, unfortunately, to our ears. I began moving faster.
“Bea!” Alphard hissed as we stalked up the stairs, “I’m gonna fall down the stairs], slow down!”
“He’s gonna be on a warpath soon, might as well beat him to it, right?” I said through my teeth.
“If you’re thinking about beating father up or something, I’d gladly join you if you’d just let me go!” He shoved my shoulder. I shoved him back (once we were off the staircase).
“You’re too slow! I’m doing it to hurry you up, it’s for the better!”
Suddenly, he gripped my other arm and began pushing me. I dropped down onto the linoleum floor and snatched his ankle, making him trip onto the floor as well. We quarrelled like this for Salazar knows how long.
“Okay I actually am knackered now! Stop it!” He laughed.
“Only if you do.”
“That hurts Wal–”
“Your problem. Should’ve respected your elders, Alph.” I groaned as he kneed me in the stomach.
“Okay I’ll let go if you let go”
“Mmm.. no.”
“I’ll tell Dad!”
“No you won’t?” We both knew better than to do that.
We were both panting now, I bit his arm. He kneed my stomach again. I finally gripped both his ankles and clambered onto my feet while he tried using his arms to cause further damage. I pulled his body down the hallway, into my room. The moment I let go, he pulled me down and began pulling on my hair. I tickled him until he stopped, but then he started pulling it again.
“Okay, Fine.. I’ll let go if you do, but only ‘cause I’m tired.” I sighed, except it didn’t really sound like a sigh through my panting.
“Three..two..one.” We both let go. It was the first time we had both done that on the first countdown.
We laid down next to each other and breathed. My room was at the end of the hallway and his was at the other end, and most nights it was difficult to get him to his room without hearing what was happening downstairs; which is why I kept him chucked in my room most nights and he had long learned not to argue about it.
“Did you really have to pack your carpet?” He huffed a laugh.
“The floors of Hogwarts have been there for ages! Who knows what they’ve been touched with, especially those bloody Gryffindor floors..”
“You aren’t gonna be in Gryffindor though, you can’t.”
“No, no, I won’t. I just feel bad for them, is all.” This was a lie, I was generally a bit anxious about being put in the wrong house.
“But isn’t Slytherin the ones doing blood magic and whatever in their dorms?”
“Blood magic isn’t dirty, though! And how do you even know what that is?”
“We’ve been to Grimmauld Place so many times, Bea… Do you think I haven’t seen any of the titles in the library? We play hide and seek there with Orion all the time.”
I rolled my eyes. “When will you ever stop calling me that.”
Alph turned towards me, that same smile on his mouth that signals he knows he’s doing something wrong, but feels absolutely no remorse and will most likely never stop doing it. “I still don’t know why mother and father didn’t name you that, it’s much better than Walburga.”
“Walburga is.. sophisticated!”
“Mhmmm..”
“Do you really want to get started on the name Alphard?”
On and on, we spoke. I was always ridiculously good at distracting him, and I was lucky for that talent because although I didn’t know it then, soon enough I would have another little boy to take care of.
We played a few games and eventually, he fell asleep. I considered picking him up and putting him on my bed but figured that would be too kind, so instead I just rather grudgingly put a blanket and pillow on the floor then rolled him onto it.
