Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

23 July, 1977 - Letters (II)

***

Lavinia's summer was what she would have classified as normal, though the reality of that was not something she particularly enjoyed facing. Her grades were lower than they should have been, as she'd expected, and her mother's rage was as wild and violent as she'd known it would be, if somewhat tempered by a sort of resigned disappointment that was almost worse. As if her mother had come to expect this of her daughter. As if Lavinia was such a complete failure that at this point, her punishments were less intended to get her to pull it together and more just a reminder that such things wouldn't be tolerated.

The only part of the school year that hadn't fallen below expectation was her apparition test, which she'd passed, but as usual, Rhea hardly counted that a success. Instead, she treated it more and a fulfilled expectation and made little comment on it other than to remind Lavinia that she couldn't apparate while on their property.

With little else to do and trying to avoid interacting with her mother anymore than necessary, Lavinia spent a lot of time thinking about that last night of term. It was such a contrast to the way her fifth year had ended and there were long hours late at night where she tried to figure out all the million little things that had led to such a drastic change. She'd been glad to leave school, though not exactly pleased to go home. She hadn't wanted to see either Lupin or Black, however. She knew it made her a coward, a word that regularly rang in her ears these days, but she didn't want to face it.

If she was honest, she was embarrassed that they'd seen her like that. Embarrassed that she didn't have a very good excuse either. Everything had simply been too much too fast. The realization that her mother's face now inspired only fear where she was sure there should have been love and loyalty, the realization that she had a full three months with no one to talk to. After the incident at the end of Christmas holidays, she didn't even have William to joke with anymore. She was going to be alone for the coming months. Alone and trapped. So she'd done what she always did when faced with painful things. She'd run.

And they'd been there. Why and how she didn't know, but they had. And they hadn't asked questions. They hadn't pried, at least until the end. They'd just... comforted her. Like that was normal. Like they cared.

And that had been perhaps the worst part of the summer: the sudden heart-wrenching realization of just how much she'd come to rely on the Marauders during her late nights. And she had, though now she cursed herself for it, realizing how weak it had made it her. She also realized just how much she owed them. How many tears, how many sleepless nights and how many cuts had been saved simply because they'd been there.

This last realization had sunk in with a shocking reality late one night, when Lavinia's world felt cold and bleak and her mother's voice echoed through her head, repeating words from that day and countless days before. At dinners: Really you're eating that much? Since you clearly don't have a brain, you can't afford to lose your figure. When her mother had come across her reading and discovered it wasn't for school: Why don't you go be useful and help William with his studies. He still has promise. And the constant reminder: Have you contacted Regulus Black recently? Don't tell me you've let that slip too. It's the last useful thing you can do for this family.

She knew she should have hardened her heart to it by now, but somehow, each repetition, each new phrasing of old complaints seemed to tear the wounds in her soul wider. Her armor these days was only surface deep, something Lavinia kept as quiet as she could. Her face was a constant mask, hiding the ashes of what she had left behind an iron facade. Making sure they would never know just how weak she was.

And on this night, with those reminders ringing in her ears, Lavinia had rolled up her sleeves, fully prepared to remind herself just how thin her armor was, only to discover there was no room left on her wrists. From the base of her palm down to the crook of her elbow on both arms, she was covered by line after line in various stages of healing. For a long, long moment, she'd simply stared at it, her head running in circles, hardly sure how to process it.