PURIFY : Fred Weasley

24: Abjured

I don't see the Weasleys again before Christmas. All of them seem to have evaporated. Not just the twins, but their brother as well, and their sister. I debate sending George a letter, wishing him well, but I don't know how that will bode over with Fred. He still seemed incredibly cross with me. I doubt that I will be able to change his anger anytime soon.

When I take the train back to King's Cross, I don't sit with Robbie. She doesn't go home for the holidays, but she doesn't go into any details as to why. I figure asking her will bring up bad memories, so I don't bother. Further still, I wonder if I would even understand. After all, they are both Muggles, and I don't pretend to understand Muggles.

My brother is the only one to greet me at the station. With my trunk in tow, we make our way back to our manor.

"Marcus is coming after Christmas," Landry points out.

Christmas is in two days.

"I shall see him then," I answer.

It doesn't seem to satisfy Landry. He raises his hand and rips the trunk out of my hand, dragging it behind him. Then, he apparates without me.

So, I arrive home alone. Landry is long gone. When I enter the Manor, the door creaks. So do the floorboards. Our house is old and it is not well-cared for. We only own the one house-elf, after all. The place feels more like a museum than a home.

I see my mother on the stairwell. She is gaunt. My mother looks more skeletal than anything else. Like her skin has been draped over her bones without any muscles or fat beneath it. She offers me a wave, and she makes her way down the stairs. Though the house is creaky, the stairs don't make a sound beneath her weight. Every step for his ardous.

"Larkin," she says, and she cups my face between her hands. "Your father is in the study. Don't interrupt him. Why don't you go check out your room?"

I oblige her. Upstairs, I find my trunk next to my bed, and Landry is gone. Everything is exactly as I left it, perfectly in place. My canopy bed hangs in the air, the curtains blowing in the draft. I feel like I'm haunting my own room.

Rather than cause an argument, I crash. In the middle of the day, I sleep until it is dark. Then I creep around the house.

My father is in a hushed argument with someone. I listen at the door for another voice, which coughs frequently. I apparate away when I hear my father approach the door.

I end up outside, in the middle of the grounds. I only wear my cloak, and I am still in my Hogwarts uniform. I look back up at the manor.

Landry's light flicks off.

In a second, he is standing in front of me.

"Hello," I manage. It is the first thing that I have said here. No one has ever cared for me to speak when I'm at the manor anyway.

"Why won't you simply marry Marcus Flint?" my brother asks.

I straighten my spine. "Why are you so obsessive? It shouldn't matter to you who I marry."

"Oh it matters a great deal," he says. "It reflects on me, who you choose to marry."

My ears are burning, and not just from the cold. I take a step forward, the snow crunching under my shoes.

"Athena Rowle, how's she?" I remember Landry mentioning her at dinner last year. He didn't mention anything about her, but that's less of a reflection on her character than it is Landry's.