i s o b e l
two weeks before
When Isobel arrived home, she found Maggie in the living room. Her mother's face was sallow; her green St. Mungo's robes peeked out from the blanket she curled under. She did not look up; did not even flinch, as Isobel entered the room. Just stared vacantly at the coffee table.
Isobel took off her coat and sat silently beside her mother, praying she wouldn't mention the make-up she was wearing.
"The hospital was overstaffed," said Maggie, finally. Her voice sounded hoarse. "I asked if I could come home. I wasn't feeling well."
Isobel clasped her hands in her lap. Lucius had left her alone in the alleyway; she had paced there for fifteen minutes. Half trying to comprehend what had just happened, half trying to piece together an excuse to give her mother, to explain why she hadn't been home. She launched into it: "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I went to a beach in Scarborough, but I didn't speak to anyone, I promise. I just have to get out of the house sometimes. You can't keep me locked up here forever, okay?" Her mother did not look at her, so Isobel said carefully, "I think I should get a job. If not in the wizarding world, then a job in the village nearby. I want to be more financially independent, and I - I just want to get out more. . ." she trailed off. "Mum? What do you think, could I get a job?"
Maggie nodded absently. Then said, "there's a scarf in the kitchen. It's not yours."
"It's new," said Isobel quickly, scorning herself for not having been more careful. She tried to remember what Ginny's scarf looked like. "I was cold at the beach the other day. So I bought it for myself."
Maggie raised her face to look at Isobel - without warning, it crumpled. "I didn't want it to be like this," she said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Us - lying to each other, all the time. We used to be close."
"We don't lie to each other that much," said Isobel, but the words felt ridiculous. She took a breath. "What else is there, then? What else have you lied to me about?"
Maggie closed a cold, thin hand over Isobel's. A tear had escaped: it glistened on the curve of her cheekbone. "Perhaps, on my side, they are more so omittances than lies."
"What have you left out, then?" asked Isobel. She thought of Draco, thought of Lucius' hard grip on her arm. My son is getting married to Astoria Greengrass. She wondered if her mother knew about the marriage.
Her mother spoke slowly. "I knew how to cast a protective charm on your necklace because of experiences I've had at St. Mungo's. Because other people who cast those charms have had to be taken into hospital. There is a reason it's not a well-known spell. . ." Her eyes filled with tears again. "Isobel, lives are not easily saved, when dark magic has been involved. There is always some cost. Enchanted jewellery has a high success rate for deflecting dark magic, but it doesn't work without an expense."
"An expense?" questioned Isobel. Her heart beat fast.
"The charm was just a precaution, of course," said Maggie. "I hoped you would never find yourself in danger, but you - the circles you were involved in -"
Maggie caught Isobel's eye, and Isobel conceded. "I know about Draco Malfoy."
"How did you -"
"It doesn't matter. I haven't spoken to him." Isobel's voice trembled with apprehension. "Please, go on."
Her mother sighed heavily. Then she looked at her daughter, and said, "Isobel - enchanted jewellery can save the life of its bearer, but only at the cost of the deterioration of the person who cast the protective charm."
