Before you (Fred Weasley)

CHAPTER 11

"Where is everybody?" I asked, looking around at the half empty Great Hall. The students from years 1 to 3 had gone back to their homes for Christmas. A few people were outside, having snowball fights. But other than that, not many people were to be seen.

"Probably getting dressed for the ball" Amelie shrugged, eating a piece of toast.

"Already? There's still 7 hours left!" I said.

I sipped from a cup of tea when I noticed a familiar owl fly over my table and land in front of me. It was our family owl, Pinky. I had named her such because of an odd shade of pink she had picked up when she flew through a minor explosion from one of my cauldrons when I was little. She held out her leg which had a letter attached to it.

Amelie fed Pinky bits of her bread as I unfolded the letter reading every word of it, letting it sink in.

Alice,

I heard from Lucius that you have been sorted in to Hufflepuff. When I heard this news, I was very disappointed. You were my daughter, how could you not be a Slytherin? Perhaps Draco was right, you don't have it in you to live up to the family expectations, how I wish you were more like him.

I am also upset that I had to hear it from Lucius and not you, it deeply upsets me. When you graduate from Hogwarts, I will make sure you marry into a wealthy pure-blooded family, maybe that will set you right.

Merry Christmas,

Helena Malvolio

I didn't stop the tears that began to flow from my eyes. I hid my face using the letter and excused myself from the table, running out of the Great Hall and on to the grounds. I ran and I ran all the way to the Willow Tree near the Black Lake and stood in front of it, the letter still scrunched up in my hand.

My own mother, how could she? How could someone be so cruel? I felt a passionate hate for her burning in the pit of my stomach. In the fifteen years of my life, I had failed to understand why she didn't love me as a mother should love her child. What was wrong with me? The tears continued to drip from my eyes, cold and salty on my patched lips.

I hated her. And hate was a strong word, I had never ever used it to express my emotions for someone. I held the letter from the top using the tips of my fingers and ripped it apart as fast as I could, chucking the pieces in the snow.

Ensure that I get married into a pure-blooded family? What was this? The 18th century?

My hands twitched by my sides, I contemplated punching the trunk of the tree but I knew I would only hurt myself. Instead, I rested my back against it and sank on to a cushion of snow, letting the cold slowly creep into my body.

My eyes were tired from crying and I let my eyelids droop, hoping that falling asleep would make the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach go away.

.

"Is she alive?"

"Of course she is you idiot"

"She's going to be sick"

"I'm going to carry her to Madame Pomfrey's, take your scarf off and put it on her will you?"

I felt something slip behind my back and under my knees and then suddenly felt as if I was being lifted. My left side was pressed against something warm and hard and I snuggled in to it. I heard footsteps underneath me and a change in atmosphere from freezing cold to toasty warm.

All too soon, the warm, hard thing that I was snuggled into was gone and I was now lying on something soft.

"Oh dear, what was she doing out in the cold?" This voice belonged to a woman.