GALAXIES | r. lupin (2)

CHAPTER ONE

ALTHEA WAS HAVING A SHITTY day.

It started with her father shaking her awake, telling her that he was going to work and, since her mother was in Spain, she had to take care of her younger siblings. That wasn't a problem, since Althea loved them with all her heart, though she had underslept.

Then, Althea's neighbour came over to yell at her about how her mother's trees were growing over their shared fence. He claimed that, if it were to continue, he would file a lawsuit for intrusion of private property. This was nothing new; her neighbour always got on her nerves, though it made her rather irritable.

The worst came with the owl by her window. Since her family was playing muggle, the letter-carrier was a rare, but somewhat welcome sight. I small tie to her previous life that she longed for.

However, the owl wasn't carrying any good news.

She cautiously approached it and untied the letter from its leg. It was sealed with wax, on which she recognised the symbol as that of the Larson's, Aubrey's family.

Althea got a heavy feeling in her stomach. Aubrey would never use the family crest for a letter. It was much too formal for her liking. She broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Dear Miss Dubois,

We regret to inform you that on the 23rd of August, our daughter Aubrey Larson was killed in an attack of Larson Manor while we were in London.

We are aware that you are currently in hiding due to the war, but we would be honoured if you gave a speech at the funeral. Aubrey spoke very fondly of you, and we know that you were close. We are sure it would mean the world to her if she knew.

The funeral and burial will be in the garden of Larson Manor on the 29th of August. We hope to see you there. If not, please notify us in advance.

Sincerely,
John and Helen Larson.

Althea dropped the letter. Her hand clasped her mouth as she thought of her friend. Gone.

She couldn't even bring herself to cry. It didn't feel quite right. But her hand trembled and she fell to her knees. Nothing would fix this.

She watched with a strange sort of placidity as their final meeting played in her mind.

'I wish we didn't have to say goodbye. It feels so final.'

That was when the first sob climbed up her throat and choked her until she let it out.

Aubrey's last words to Althea. The latter never put enough weight in them. She couldn't have possibly understood the bitter irony until after she received the letter.

Aubrey used to speak about how useless the war was. How it was wasting lives of innocent people. Yet, she refused to fight for her cause. And she was still murdered.

Nothing but pain. Althea thought resentfully. And, although she hated herself for it, she couldn't help but think of herself. Her own petty problems.

Aubrey was a pureblood. She had never involved herself in the war. The only thing she had done was openly speak against muggle and muggle-born Prejudice, and she was killed for it. Althea was a half-blood. She had fled the scene of the war, but she had a long-held grudge with Lucius Malfoy, who was undoubtedly a Death Eater. If Aubrey got killed for advocating muggle rights, what would become of Althea?

The thought frightened her. Still, what frightened her even more, was the fact that one of her best friends died, and all she could do was think of herself.