Built On Lies

Chapter 39

TW: This chapter contains violent scenes, murder, ED and death if you are uncomfortable with any of these please feel free to skip.

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Emerie's pov:

He was dead. Xavier, my older brother. The one I shut out for three years of my life for something he wasn't involved in. He was the brother that protected me the best he could, even from myself.

Mother had been crying in the kitchen for the past week with Father firmly by her side. The Stanton's had been staying with us, Jane cried with Mother but her sobs weren't as heart aching mourning her eldest child.

Naomi came over as often as she could but even she couldn't bring herself to step into the room that was once his.

I always joked when we were little for Xavier to get hit by a broom so when he died I could have his room. But I never imagined for me to be in his bed now, the pillows stained with tears as his faint scent lingered on the covers.

Marcel was taking his death hard, he blamed himself but he didn't show it. I would hear him late at night in the garden from Xavier's balcony calling out for him as he smashed bottles upon bottles and winced every time he called too loud.

His words were mainly slurred, not a soul could make out what he was saying and the days after he would sit. He would sit at the table and stare into the abyss like he had many words to say but didn't know how.

I never really knew how to cope with death. I never thought it would occur in a cruel way, especially to my brother. Of course my grandparents were long gone but that was peacefully. The talk of wars, death eaters and Voldemort hyped the prediction of death but that was still hypothetical...until Dumbledore's death.

I suppose death never hits you directly until it is one of those you love die. In our case it was Xavier.

The letter's from my friends and relatives I didn't even know began to pile through the door. So much so that I stacked them behind the door of my own bedroom letting the dust gather. Nothing in the letters would make me feel any better, in fact they would become repetitive.

I hadn't even answered the letters I received from my friends in New Orleans, I wasn't too keen to do that now either. Instead I would rather sit here with the memories I had, hateful of the memories we would have had.

I pushed off his covers, fixing them again. His room was exactly how he left it before New Orleans, a mess. He could never tidy properly and would always pay me one galleon each time I tidied his room and I would leave thinking I was richer than I was the day before.

I slipped out of the room, hearing faint chatter from downstairs. Many guests had arrived over the two weeks. Many held sympathy and remorse while others showed up more for business which caused Marcel and I's skin to boil. Nevertheless, we kept to ourselves. Only nodding when greeted and shaking hands when we had too. 

I finally made it to my room going unnoticed, closing the door swiftly behind me. The room was a mess, for reasons I couldn't even begin to describe. Things were smashed and broken as I screamed and cursed every curse you could possibly imagine.

Desmond was struck with grief and regret as it was only the beginning of his and Xavier's bond which was taken from him. He had given me my space, disappearing to God knows where, which I was grateful for but more importantly I wanted someone to be here, I didn't want to go through this alone.

None of us were grieving as a family, we did this separately and it was harder this way. When my Grandparents died it was Xavier who comforted me, kept me safe from the media and the darkness that I faced. I missed him, a lot.