Chapter 63 - My Fault

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~Astra~

My vision was blurring with tears as I stumbled down the passage. I nearly knocked Albus over when I reached the circle of runes. He grabbed my arms to steady me, but was peering past me into the darkness. "Where's Wren?"

I shook my head. When I opened my mouth to explain, the only thing that came out was a sob. Albus stared at me for a moment, uncomprehending. A blink, then something broke behind his eyes. I saw tears forming, then he shook his head. "We've got to go."

After easily the roughest apparating I'd ever experienced, we slammed into the Potters' back steps and went sprawling in different directions. I rolled over and threw up in the flower bed.

When I was finally able to sit up straight again, Albus was a few meters away, in the garden. He was waving his wand and muttering, and a soft mist seemed to be coming out of his wand and enveloping the whole property. The stars twinkled a little more than normal through what looked like a giant bubble all around us. It would've been beautiful, if I'd been in any state to appreciate its beauty.

When Albus finally turned back around, he looked remarkably pale. He wavered a bit coming back to the steps, but made it to the door all right. The blood in his hairline was trickling down his forehead, starkly red against the white. He hardly seemed to notice. "Are you okay?" he asked in a hushed tone.

I nodded automatically. If by okay he meant not going to throw up again, I guess I was okay. In every other sense of the word, though, I was the furthest thing from it. Albus pursed his lips and fumbled for the doorknob, and I got the feeling he understood.

We walked into the dark, quiet kitchen. It was as cozy and safe as always, even with the lights off, but something was different. I'd spent so many happy evenings here with the Potters, but I couldn't remember it ever feeling so dark and empty. I suppose I'd never actually been alone at their house before. Maybe it was just the knowledge that Mr. Potter would never be here again making everything feel weird. And it's my fault.

Albus switched on the light, bathing the room in sterile, white light that hurt my eyes and reminded me a little too much of the basement at the manor. After a moment, Albus said, "There might be some lamps in the closet."

"It's fine," I said, my voice smaller than I was expecting. "I mean, unless you want."

He blinked a few times, then shrugged. He slowly sat down at the kitchen table. "I guess it doesn't matter."

"No," I echoed. I sank into a seat across from him. "You're bleeding."

Albus reached up to touch his head with a very mechanical motion. He pulled his hand back, blood staining his fingers. For a moment, he stared at it as if trying to figure out what it was. "I'm fine," he said finally.

We lapsed into silence. I could hear the clock in the hallway, ticking away the seconds, taking us further and further away from everything that had happened. I wished it would take my mind away from it all. Because when I closed my eyes, I could still see my spell hitting Mr. Potter. I could still see Wren pleading with me from the other side of the barrier. I could hear it all as clearly as if it were all still happening. I just wanted to forget.

Albus was staring into the distance. I could only see his profile, but that was enough to notice him blinking rapidly every so often, to notice the ragged breaths he was trying to control, to notice him swallowing hard as if shoving down the urge to cry. I had to look down. I didn't even know how to console someone whose parents had died in something completely unrelated to me. How do you apologize for killing your best friend's father?

"What happened to Wren?" Albus asked in a hoarse voice. He was nearly whispering, but it seemed so loud in the silence that I jumped. I looked up to find him staring at me. There was nothing angry or accusing in his eyes, which made me want to cry even more. I needed him to not forgive me for this. This was all my fault. I needed him to agree.

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