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Ღ chapter fourteen ( family secrets )
THE NOTE WAS simple.
Harry knows. I need to come home.
Cordelia's response was quick, and Jules found her way onto the Hogwarts Express to return home for Christmas holidays, a change of her plans to stay at Hogwarts with her friends. She'd bribed Calliope to sneak her some food from the Great Hall last night, and she'd snuck out with the throngs of students clamoring in the corridors. Hermione had been standing outside Ravenclaw tower, looking for her, but Jules had ducked her head and avoided a confrontation easily.
She sat alone, something she was grateful for, chewing thoughtfully at a licorice wand, and staring at the window, and unfurled photograph of her parents in her lap. She'd nicked it from her mom. She could see the cheekbones, the spray of freckles, and the arch of her dark brows, in his face. His face was not sunken, and deathly, like it looked in the papers, but rather handsome, and full of life.
Snow falling slowly became a cold, miserable sleet, as the train steadily crept its way south towards London. The wild moors, and wilderness, quickly transformed into cities, and Jules was growing more tense by the minute.
The platform was bustling with families looking for their children, and Jules knew exactly where to find her mother. Cordelia was standing by a pillar, some ways away from the crowd gathering by the train. She let Jules find her. It had always been like that.
"Let's get you home," she said softly, at the sight of her teenage daughter, who had sad eyes, and blue-black shadows smudged underneath her eyes. "Put your hand on this," she added, offering Jules what looked like a balled up sock. A portkey.
They were outside the gates of their manor in seconds. Manicured lawns, a rose garden, and marble floors. It was an opulent place, built by her mother and him, to raise their children, and live together. Him being a traitor really threw a wrench in their plans.
"I was hoping we could talk?" Cordelia said softly, Jules shaking her head, suitcase gripped so tight her knuckles were white. "Later, I guess. I'll just be in my study, you know where to find me, and the house elves do know you're back, so the room is clean."
Pushing open the door to her room, she smiled to find Rora, one of the house-elves, who was Jules' personal favorite. "Miss!" she said brightly. "Happy Holidays!"
"Happy holidays Rora," Jules replied, smiling slightly. "If it's no trouble, could you draw a bath? I still can't figure out how to get the perfect ratio of hot to cold like you do."
"Of course, anything you need," Rora curtsied, walking into the attached bathroom. Jules heard the rush of the tap, as she dropped her suitcase on the floor near her bed, opening it to unpack. She hadn't brought much, she had plenty of clothes at home. "Does your mother need anything?" Rora added.
