𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 || 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

twelve

The hall was attentive, silent apart from the occasional sniffle, the sobs having stopped after the mention of a letter was announced.

Dumbledore plucked the letter from his pocket and glance around at the students before opening it up.

Tacking the letter out of the envelope, he unfolded it and took a moment before he began to read, but before he could a voice began to speak for him. A charm placed on the letter by Renata herself, her voice echoing around the hall for all to hear.

Dear Students and Staff of Hogwarts.

I know you're all probably wondering why me, Renata Lestrange of all people, the girl who always smiles, would take her own life.

Well I have a few things to say.

I should probably start of by saying the rumour that my brother, my twin brother, that is, is not in some school in America. He is dead.

Shock seemed to reverberate throughout the hall, every single person turned their gaze to Renata's younger brother who tried his best to ignore the looks, only glaring at the letter. Of course she had to ruin everything.

My little brother won't be happy to hear that i've spilled the secret, but then again he mourned for two days, he doesn't care, not really.

The stares seemed to burn him as he shrunk into his seat.

I loved my twin brother. He was the best of the Lestrange family. My cursed family, the pure bloods who think they were better than everyone else.

I mean he was in Hufflepuff, what Lestrange is put in Hufflepuff? He was a kind soul, a gentle one that went out of his way to make people's days better.

When he died... a part of my soul left with him, I'd say my whole soul, but I think there was something left there. Our souls were always enter-twined, when he died...in my arms. You want to know the last thing he said?

He said "I told you I wouldn't leave you if I couldn't help it."

Of course he would say something like that in his last moments.

You see, we had talked about what would happen if one of us happened to perish when we were younger and he said those exact words. "I won't leave you if I can help it"

I tried to be happy.

I did.

I tried to think of his memories and reminisce instead of mourn.

But it got worse when my parents lied and acted like he never existed in the first place.

They removed all his things, I kept what I could, but it wasn't enough. They told everyone he moved away, to America of all places which is ridiculous because he hated the idea of not being with me, he hate the idea of being anywhere other than England.

Home.

I wanted to scream in peoples faces that he was gone.

That he wasn't here anymore...

But I couldn't, because I knew what my parents would put me through if i did, I knew they would kill me too.

Yes, you heard me right. They killed him.

They weren't happy, and on an act of anger, ended his life whilst I watched.

I started to hate them.

I started to hate my whole family..

The siblings I had grown up with, I used to run around with and laugh with... were nothing but strangers anymore.