Hermione's Twin ⇒ Fred Weasley

Ch. 2: You're Adopted

Ch. 2: You're Adopted

TREMENDOUS TIME may have passed as I stood there, in the powder blue doorway to my room. I couldn't be certain, of course.

     I didn't know what to do, or think, or even say. I had gasped, somewhat melodramatically, when I had first walked inside, but now. . .  I was just still -- frozen to the shag carpet beneath my feet.

       Everything was gone. Everything.

      My dark eyes trailed the small room, with wooden shelves built into the soft colored walls. The sturdy bed frame no longer supported my twin-sized bed, just a stripped mattress surrounded by bare walls where the moving pictures of chattering friends and days spent in the sun used to hang.

The barren walls, the empty cupboards, and the hollow closet all rang, as if vision could sing.

My mum had just. . .  packed it all up. I had checked my closet and the bathroom and even my special hiding place under my mattress. All of it had been packed away. I didn't understand why she would do this, or even how she would be able to.

     "Hon? Please come downstairs. We need to have a talk." My mum grabbed my shoulders gently, her voice soft.

Clarice Roberts was not often soft. She was sturdy, like hardwood floor. Her will was tangible and not easily swayed, but kind and generous. I'd never been able to convince my mother to do anything she didn't want.

Trey used to say she'd spent all her middle-ground raising him. I just thought he was her favorite.

But, this tone, it was if she was trying to tell me that she was sorry. Sorry for what, I wasn't sure.

    The feeling of her cool, tense hand on my shoulder sent a flash of insecure anger down my neck. Roughly, I shrugged off her hand, aggravated at the sight of all my belongings, packed away, out of sight.

      "Talk about what? This? What is going on Mum?!" I turned on my heel and glared at her, I had never been so harsh to my mother before, but what she has done has left me scared and helpless. Why had she packed up all of my things?! I waved my hand around the bare room, practically at a loss for words. "Why did you do this?"

      "Please, I'll tell you everything. Let's just go downstairs and be civil about this, darling." She pushed me lightly, ushering me down to the first level where the couple still was waiting. I had all but forgotten about them.

      Numbly, I let her lead me. I was in a trance. Time seemed to be stopped and I had no idea if this was even reality or not. When we reached the living room, the couple that I had seen earlier were now seated on the couch, looking very nervous. Walking into the living room, the couple quickly jumped up onto their feet and shot me wavering grins. The woman even started to cry.

        "You are so beautiful!" The woman sobbed and rubbed under her eyes. She was a thin woman, with a thin hooked nose, and thin, dainty wrists that dropped down to slender fingers. Her dark auburn hair was wiry, coarse and disheveled from what seemed to be a constant nervous tugging. As the woman ran a hand through her hair once more, little mouse brown roots peeled through. Her lips fluttered with a nervous smile, then it dashed away as if it were afraid.

"Clarisse, you have done a wonderful j-job raising her." The thin woman tried to smile, but it kept wavering and turning into watery tears, slipping off her lips. "Excuse me, I'm just so-o happy. . .  and disgraced at myself." The woman apologised to me, and pulled out a hankie, dabbing at the corners of her almond eyes.

     Beside her, the lanky man in a grey cardigan and khakis stepped forward and held out his hand to me, nervously. "I-I'm Dan Granger, and this is my wife, Jane." He smiled at me and I took his hand, confused as to what they wanted.