RUN - James Potter

Chapter 20

Her brother did not welcome her home as she entered through the entrance of the shop, a once beautiful and buzzy parlour had been turned into tones of greys and black. It was empty, cold and certainly dead. She could feel her father's portrait stare down at her, his warm smile seemed darker and forever reason it seemed to be, his eyebrows were furrowed in disappointment.

Keeping her head down as she opened the counter panel and made her way to the back door which would lead to their home. Her mother had said hardly anything since picking her up, she had only nodded her head, picked up her trunk and apparated into Diagon Alley. Maybe her brother was right, that she had turned back into a zombie.

Ashe felt her trunk fly past her, through the kitchen and all the way down the small hallway that had Antonella's bedroom to the left and her mother's to the right. Sighing quietly, she had hoped Florence would be home, to see if she could knock some common sense into him. However, the opportunity was not there, as her mother gestured for her to sit down.

Taking a seat, she took the time to stare at her mother. Her deep brown hair was delicately braided into a bun, a change from her usual pony-tail, and she no longer wore slacks and a button up, but some sort of fancy dress that her mother probably would have worn in her twenties. 

Her face did not look like a zombie, not a chance. It was filled with life, if it was the makeup on her cheek or the outlined eyeliner, or maybe it was the fullness in her face, and the sharpness in her collarbone. Antonella was unsure, but maybe there was more to then her brother's word?

Nervously waiting for her mother to speak, she noticed she was fidgeting with her rings. Her fingers were layered in fine jews and silver: violet and deep blue hues contrasted the silver in her wedding rings, her family heirlooms and some rings that even Antonella had never seen.

'Antonella,' even her voice sounded different, there was a strange tinge to it, as if it sounded truer than anything she had ever heard, 'We need to talk about the future.'

Gulping, she let her eyes trail back up to meet her mother's, her eyes were darker, more like Antonella's and it seemed... almost comforting?

A sigh left the lips of her mother, 'Your brother will not be returning home-'

Antonella's mouth gapped open, 'Surely you're mistake-'

Sorrow filled her mother's eyes, and tears welled up in Antonella's, her mother's voice seemed to shake as she continued to speak, 'We had a small disagreement when you returned to school. He believed the company I was engaging with was problematic to his own beliefs, threatening if I did not stop he would strip Florean- I mean you're father of his legacy.'

The words echoed throughout the room, and Antonella only stared ahead, unmoved, and tears sliding down her cheek.

'Since your father handed the business down to your brother, he decided that he would close it... so he could pursue other avenues-'

Shaking her head, Antonella begin to mutter small 'no, no, no', as her mother continued to speak firmly, 'He wants no relationship with his own mother,' She scoffed, 'Saying I was bringing shame to the Fortescue name by having dinner parties at Malfoy Manor.'

Visibly shaking, Antonella struggled to maintain breathing. Her brother hated her mother, and her own mother was okay with it?

'Why are you hanging out with the Malfoy's- They're in line with... with..."

Unable to say his name, her mother reached over the table and clasped her hands around Antonella's, her hands were warm, very warm... or maybe her hands had gone cold? Devoid of any emotions, she couldn't find herself to smile, to feel, to breathe.

Her mother rubbed her hands, and slowly she could feel her fingers, the indents in her mother's palms and the wrinkles dancing across her knuckles. 

'The world isn't split between who-know-who followers and good men and women,' She begun, her words stringing Antonella along, 'In fact, the world isn't split between evil and good... within all of us are morally grey individuals.'

She could taste her own tears, as more raced down the side of her nose, landing on her bottom lip. Salty. Her mother only smiled more, 'The Malfoy's, and the Blacks, and so many other pure-bloods are just like me. I am not a Fortescue like you my dearie, I was not built to have fire within or be able to withstand the most troublesome thunderstorms. Surely, my sweet, you understand this?'

Her mother was Reneta Di Ganna, part of an Italian pure-blood community that had shortly moved to London in the early 30's. She was English aristocratic, her brother and herself was just pure-blood by nature, their father showed very little care to the higher class in Australia, and cared even less in London.

Her mother's gentle smile remained as she whispered, 'My dear, the word is so wide. So much bigger than ever before.'

Choking back her tears, still clinging to her mother's hand, 'I miss Florence.'

The tears started to rush down her cheeks again, and her hair slowly became wetter. Small mewling noises came from her throat, Professor McGonagall always called it her small kitten noises, as she struggled to breathe. 'Why did he leave us? How can we afford to live without- How can he ditch us- How can he ditch me?'

Her mother's eyes grew glassy, as Antonella hiccuped through her words, 'Will Florence come around and say Merry Christmas? Will he even speak to me? Why- Why did you have to go start talking to the pure-bloods!'

Antonella was no longer crying, she was weeping.

'I can't turn my back on my own.'

Her mother's words rung true, her father had said the same thing when they were in Australia, the year he died. She didn't understand why he was whisper shouting that to Florence, but he did. He looked angry, yet her mother seemed to only be filled with sorrow.

Lowering her head to the table, she whispered, 'What do we do now?'

'We rebuild.'