/𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒\ [𝒔. 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌]

𝟐.𝟚.𝟣

"and it is you, spirit--with will and energy, and virtue and purity--that I want, not alone with your brittle frame." ~ Charlotte Brontë

~august 1972~

A month later, Artemis found herself with a routine at her aunt and uncle's house. Everyday she'd go downstairs for breakfast, avoiding talking at all costs, and then she'd slip up to her bedroom to read one of the two books she'd brought with her until lunch. After lunch, she'd either go outside or back up to her room, avoiding Gregory and her aunt either way. The hardest part of her day was when her uncle came home right before dinner. She was expected to greet him with her aunt and cousin, although he never seemed exactly happy to see her. He would kiss his wife, greet his son happily, and scrutinize Artemis reproachfully, always pointing out something off with her appearance or demeanor. His favorite thing to criticize was the way she dressed, but she couldn't help that she'd only brought her school uniform and a bunch of her father's old clothes.

One evening in particular, Artemis was so wrapped up in her reading that she completely forgot to get ready for dinner. She was reading her favorite book her father had left behind- A Short History of Art by H.W and Anthony Janson. She was on the chapter about the Neo-classism and Romanticism eras and, despite the fact that she had read these pages countless times, they never failed to captivate her attention. She was just turning the page to get to the part on neoclassical sculptures when her Aunt Isobel's voice, magically projected, reached her room. "Artemis, come down to see your uncle before dinner." Her cold tone combined with the ever persistent draft in the house made Artemis shiver ever so slightly. She closed the book and shoved it under her pillow, and then cringed when she realized what she was wearing. Baggy shorts and her dad's old sweater. Her uncle would have field day, but she didn't have time to change.

"Coming," she muttered to nobody, and then hurried out of her room, brushing out her hair with her fingers as she went. When she reached the foyer where her aunt, uncle, and cousin were all gathered, the place felt colder and more evil than usual. She pulled the sweater tighter around herself as she approached them, feeling goosebumps form on her arms. "Hello, Uncle Gregory," she said in a soft voice.

Her uncle looked down at her, his lip curling into a cold smirk. "Artemis. You got a package today."

"Really?" Artemis couldn't help perking up a little. She'd been exchanging letters with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Remus all summer, but she hadn't been expecting any packages.

Her Uncle Gregory didn't smile, nor did her Aunt Isobel. "Yes, from a certain Lupin," Aunt Isobel said, and produced an already opened parcel in her hands.

Artemis stepped forward and took the package, looking down and seeing a few books Remus had promised to lend her as well as a Puddlemere United t-shirt from the game he'd gone to with his dad. "You already opened it?" she asked, knowing it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she said it.

"We took you in," Uncle Gregory barked, "So we have the right to open whatever we so choose. I'm glad we did, too. You can't keep up correspondences with- blood-traitors in this house- I forbid it."

"But Uncle-"

"No, he's right," Aunt Isobel cut in. "And besides, it's shameful that you had to ask a blood-traitor for entertainment and clothes while living under our roof. Have we not given you enough? Look at the way you're dressed- anyone who visits would think you're some sort of servant."

Artemis's expression darkened and she hugged her sweater even tighter around herself. Her uncle stepped forward threateningly. "Well, answer your aunt. Have we not given you enough?"