Wallflower
Walburga's Curse
Another week droned on, and I was growing more and more tired of the cast that limited my mobility. The conversation between Fred and myself wasn’t brought up again, and no comment was made as to either declaration we had made. Fred promise however stayed in my mind whenever I thought about the war. I couldn’t tell if he visited less after that dispute, or if George visited more. Either way, it was a rare sight that one would venture in without the other now, but even still we never talked about their joke items, nor about making potions.
Today the house was especially mad. People had been running in and out much more than usual and even though I never left the comfort of my room, I could tell. Fred and George had been in here most of the day, wanting to escape the insanity that was downstairs. We all knew what the news around here was, what sent everyone into a frenzy: Harry Potter was coming today. In fact, he would be in right in time for dinner, which would be soon by my count. For a quick moment everything stopped, and heavy footsteps pounded on the main floor before the kitchen door was slammed shut. No doubt, another meeting.
From the second floor a very excited Ron called out a greeting to Harry, and Hermione and Ginny followed suit. Fred and George gave me a curt nod before disapparating to greet their friend as well. I didn’t know Harry, except from what I had observed of him, so I chose to continue to be a shut in, and stay in my room. Overtime I knew that I was becoming less and less the woman my father and grandmother had raised.
Just the thought actually was enough to bring a few stinging tears to my eyes. My assumption was that Fred and George would try to spy on the meeting again, and their siblings, Hermione and Harry would join in. Sure that I was safe for a while from pestering eyes I pulled out my book of Father’s letters. Before reading, I turned to the back and opened the small, hidden pocket. Inside were my favorite pictures of him and myself.
As I looked at the pictures of us through the years I smiled through the tears that blurred my sight. These weren’t just any pictures, they were milestones. First was the day I was born, my father held me so gently, his long black hair held back in a ponytail so I wouldn’t pull it. Next was my first steps, a picture of me walking into his open arms. The next milestone would be the day that I exhibited my first bit of magic, and then after they took me to Diagon Alley for ice cream. In the Black family, no one goes to Diagon Alley until they show some sign of magic, or until they get their Hogwarts letter. Next was a picture of us on the platform, taken just minutes before I got on the train for my first year in Hogwarts. And last was a picture taken the second last day that I saw him. It was almost as if he knew that he wouldn’t ever see me again…
That one day we had gone around Diagon Alley all day reminiscing about everything in my life, him pointing things out that I hadn’t remembered. He showed me the Gringotts vault and gave me a key; he bought my kestrel, we had ice cream at Fortescue’s; and he reminded me of all of the family secrets. As the sun went down we stood in the family cemetery, and looked on at our family’s graves. He pointed out his future plot, and mine should I die a Black. After his space, there was only space for one more. The graveyard was a place I hadn’t visited since I’d seen him; I didn’t want to go and see his grave had he died. It would give closure, but it would also leave no hope for a future with him, meaning he would miss out on so much more of my life.
Sobbing loudly I shoved the pictures into their spot and dropped the album on the floor. I climbed into my bed on top the covers and sobbed into the pillow, hoping not to attract attention to myself or my room. The newest guests need not know I was here; from my understanding they weren’t even told that I resided here. Just that this room was off limits.
Eventually my cries calmed and I lay silently, but depressed. Dinner had long passed, and I heard most of the Order members leave some time ago. I was thankful for the peace and quiet, for the moment, but a pop came from the opposite side of the bed. I felt the mattress sink down beneath me, and an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back into a hard chest. “You’re alone tonight Fred?” I questioned. George hadn’t come alone since before the Wolfsbane incident, and he would never crawl into my bed like this.
“I thought it’d be best if I came myself. I could hear you crying again Red.” He said, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly.
“I tried to stifle them, but it does get pent up over time. And I don’t think it’s a wound that will heal fast. It’s already two years deep. And the knife keeps turning every time I see his face, or think of him… I don’t know how long it’ll take to scar over.” I confessed. “I feel the worst when I realize that as time goes on I think of him less and less. I mean, he could be out there! He could be in danger and need my help and here I lay, like a lump on a log.”
“Red, there’s nothing you could do. I’m sure your father was a more than capable wizard, and if that’s the case then there’s no way you can help him. You don’t know as much as him yet, and he should still be protecting you.”
“Then I have nothing more to accept than the fact that if he’s not being held from me, he simply left me by choice and doesn’t want his only daughter any more, or he’s dead…” I sighed. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure which of the three options would hurt the least.
For a while we just lay there, Fred comforting me and holding me, and nothing being said between the two of us. Eventually though, I had to bring up something other than my problems. “So Harry arrived alright then?” I asked meekly.
“He was just fine when he got here. Don’t think he noticed any of your cries, and I’d have come earlier but he would’ve questioned it. I don’t think he’s ever seen me and Fred apart, but we’ve been risking it with Hermione just fine.” He replied.
“Well that’s good, what did you tell him about the room?”
“Same thing as everyone else’s been told. It’s cursed, something Walburga didn’t want anyone to see is in here and she cursed it so that no one can enter.”
“So how do you explain your mother, George and yourself walking in and out lately?”
“We’ve taken to apparating at least to this floor. If no one’s out we walk in, otherwise we just apparate through the door. Miracle someone hasn’t walked in on you changing now that I think of it.” He said with a child-like grin.
I turned around in his arms, his joy contagious and a smirk on my face. “But if you saw that, I’d have to kill you.” I taunted.
“We both know you don’t have the heart to kill me. Besides, you couldn’t live without me now if you tried!” he jested. Adding the “now” was new, but I suppose every other time he made the proclamation I just shot him down reminding him that I’d lived fifteen years without him just fine.
Today the house was especially mad. People had been running in and out much more than usual and even though I never left the comfort of my room, I could tell. Fred and George had been in here most of the day, wanting to escape the insanity that was downstairs. We all knew what the news around here was, what sent everyone into a frenzy: Harry Potter was coming today. In fact, he would be in right in time for dinner, which would be soon by my count. For a quick moment everything stopped, and heavy footsteps pounded on the main floor before the kitchen door was slammed shut. No doubt, another meeting.
From the second floor a very excited Ron called out a greeting to Harry, and Hermione and Ginny followed suit. Fred and George gave me a curt nod before disapparating to greet their friend as well. I didn’t know Harry, except from what I had observed of him, so I chose to continue to be a shut in, and stay in my room. Overtime I knew that I was becoming less and less the woman my father and grandmother had raised.
Just the thought actually was enough to bring a few stinging tears to my eyes. My assumption was that Fred and George would try to spy on the meeting again, and their siblings, Hermione and Harry would join in. Sure that I was safe for a while from pestering eyes I pulled out my book of Father’s letters. Before reading, I turned to the back and opened the small, hidden pocket. Inside were my favorite pictures of him and myself.
As I looked at the pictures of us through the years I smiled through the tears that blurred my sight. These weren’t just any pictures, they were milestones. First was the day I was born, my father held me so gently, his long black hair held back in a ponytail so I wouldn’t pull it. Next was my first steps, a picture of me walking into his open arms. The next milestone would be the day that I exhibited my first bit of magic, and then after they took me to Diagon Alley for ice cream. In the Black family, no one goes to Diagon Alley until they show some sign of magic, or until they get their Hogwarts letter. Next was a picture of us on the platform, taken just minutes before I got on the train for my first year in Hogwarts. And last was a picture taken the second last day that I saw him. It was almost as if he knew that he wouldn’t ever see me again…
That one day we had gone around Diagon Alley all day reminiscing about everything in my life, him pointing things out that I hadn’t remembered. He showed me the Gringotts vault and gave me a key; he bought my kestrel, we had ice cream at Fortescue’s; and he reminded me of all of the family secrets. As the sun went down we stood in the family cemetery, and looked on at our family’s graves. He pointed out his future plot, and mine should I die a Black. After his space, there was only space for one more. The graveyard was a place I hadn’t visited since I’d seen him; I didn’t want to go and see his grave had he died. It would give closure, but it would also leave no hope for a future with him, meaning he would miss out on so much more of my life.
Sobbing loudly I shoved the pictures into their spot and dropped the album on the floor. I climbed into my bed on top the covers and sobbed into the pillow, hoping not to attract attention to myself or my room. The newest guests need not know I was here; from my understanding they weren’t even told that I resided here. Just that this room was off limits.
Eventually my cries calmed and I lay silently, but depressed. Dinner had long passed, and I heard most of the Order members leave some time ago. I was thankful for the peace and quiet, for the moment, but a pop came from the opposite side of the bed. I felt the mattress sink down beneath me, and an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back into a hard chest. “You’re alone tonight Fred?” I questioned. George hadn’t come alone since before the Wolfsbane incident, and he would never crawl into my bed like this.
“I thought it’d be best if I came myself. I could hear you crying again Red.” He said, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly.
“I tried to stifle them, but it does get pent up over time. And I don’t think it’s a wound that will heal fast. It’s already two years deep. And the knife keeps turning every time I see his face, or think of him… I don’t know how long it’ll take to scar over.” I confessed. “I feel the worst when I realize that as time goes on I think of him less and less. I mean, he could be out there! He could be in danger and need my help and here I lay, like a lump on a log.”
“Red, there’s nothing you could do. I’m sure your father was a more than capable wizard, and if that’s the case then there’s no way you can help him. You don’t know as much as him yet, and he should still be protecting you.”
“Then I have nothing more to accept than the fact that if he’s not being held from me, he simply left me by choice and doesn’t want his only daughter any more, or he’s dead…” I sighed. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure which of the three options would hurt the least.
For a while we just lay there, Fred comforting me and holding me, and nothing being said between the two of us. Eventually though, I had to bring up something other than my problems. “So Harry arrived alright then?” I asked meekly.
“He was just fine when he got here. Don’t think he noticed any of your cries, and I’d have come earlier but he would’ve questioned it. I don’t think he’s ever seen me and Fred apart, but we’ve been risking it with Hermione just fine.” He replied.
“Well that’s good, what did you tell him about the room?”
“Same thing as everyone else’s been told. It’s cursed, something Walburga didn’t want anyone to see is in here and she cursed it so that no one can enter.”
“So how do you explain your mother, George and yourself walking in and out lately?”
“We’ve taken to apparating at least to this floor. If no one’s out we walk in, otherwise we just apparate through the door. Miracle someone hasn’t walked in on you changing now that I think of it.” He said with a child-like grin.
I turned around in his arms, his joy contagious and a smirk on my face. “But if you saw that, I’d have to kill you.” I taunted.
“We both know you don’t have the heart to kill me. Besides, you couldn’t live without me now if you tried!” he jested. Adding the “now” was new, but I suppose every other time he made the proclamation I just shot him down reminding him that I’d lived fifteen years without him just fine.