Day 15: A Lazy Afternoon

Alone in an inky mist, a man fell to his knees, unable to process his feelings, his heart filled with rage and despair, his arms with the bodies of his wife and child.
Fishing with a young boy on a beautiful sunny afternoon, feet dipping in the river, the man smiled, until an ominous figure in a black suit approached them.
The man was in pain, blood filled his mouth, laying on the ground, filled with regrets, he stared at the setting sun before exhaling one last time.

Margaret's heart skipped a beat when she realized she was dreaming, she didn't want to leave her home and wake up in that accursed castle; in a panic, she opened her eyes and looked around the room, her room, before sighing in relief.
She wondered about her predicament, could the castle itself be responsible for it? Or was the Ancient Magic responding to her heart?
Still half under the covers, she stretched with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sunlight bathing the room with its warmth, before shakily reaching for her watch: only a few hours had gone by; she smiled at her fortune.

Stretching once more, she left her bed and explored her house, looking for pets, missing it.
Pushing the door to the guest bedroom she grinned at the sight of a sleek black and white creature sitting on the pillow, she carefully climbed into the bed before resting her head against the animal, caressing it softly and waking it from its slumber; soon enough, the girl's ears were filled with the cat's quiet purr.
Margaret always joked about the cat being a snake, a viper precisely, because of her hissing and the way her mouth looked. She was the smallest and most aloof of their pets, strikingly similar to the girl, so similar they didn't get along: Margaret was hissed, (barely) scratched and bit almost every time she lavished her with affection. Her name was Toxine, and though she had her mood she still loved her.
Growl
"Alright... I'll leave you alone..." whispered Margaret, lifting her head from the cats body, but not before planting one last loud kiss on her forehead.
She scanned the room, her gentle smile fading slowly: It was immaculate, quiet, and smelled of lavender; through the large window she could see the lush backyard and her mother waving at her, a crate of vegetables floating next to her.
She joined her in the kitchen.

"What are we having for supper?" she asked her mother.
"Hochepot. What were you doing in there? Bothering Toxine?" giggled the woman, placing vegetables on the counter top.
Margaret nodded.
"Can I... help you?" ask the girl as she glanced and the large amount of vegetables.
"Oh no kitten, thank you, that's alright, you rest and enjoy the house." she smiled warmly. "Your father should be home soon."
"Mhm."
Pinching her fingers, the girl left, not wanting to bother her any further, unaware that the woman would have loved for her daughter to stay and chat.

The living room was quiet, and without a single kneazle or cat in sight, Margaret decided to look around for anything interesting; she could always go back to her room or fetch a book.
Among the healthy plants and old tomes, an unusual sight caught her attention: a large photo album sitting on the small desk; it wasn't supposed to be there. Picking it with the intent of returning it to the bookcase she dared a flip.
Pictures of her parents at Hogsmeade, dancing on the plaza during some kind of festival, carving pumpkings, brewing potions, kissing.
Her mother's stomach slowly swelled with life the further she flipped the pages; they looked young, happy; she felt guilty for ruining it all, for being such a failure, such a burden, for not being normal.
She knew they loved her, but she couldn't help but think her birth ruined their lives, she flipped ahead faster, her heart filled with disgust.
A toddler with the brightest smile and the whitest hair greeted her, it was hard to tell if the picture was moving or not; she flipped again.
A child with the coldest gaze, staring at her; next to her, her happy parents, enjoying an afternoon at the beach; she flipped again.
A group picture, she's older but not a teenager yet, wearing a pretty dress, almost hiding behind her parents and her aunt, among a group of strangers and... Those eyes, those eyebrows, that expression...
"It can't be..?" she thought, frowning.
She placed a bookmark and flipped again, her mind racing and confused.
Last page: a class photo, from the Muggle school, she's standing at the edge, next to the nun, staring ahead, towering over the other students.
She sighed and closed the book before slumping down in the couch.

Margaret remembered that one single year she spent at the Muggle school.
She was sent there after the disaster that was her first day at Hogwarts; of course seeing the castle wouldn't awaken her magic, she could tell how disappointed her parents were that she could be a squib; she knew they blamed themselves for her shortcomings and she hated it.
They felt it would be best if she had some form of Muggle education just in case.
It was a small catholic school with lush greenery, a twenty minute walk away from home; she remembered enjoying the daily journey, the rest not so much.
The first few days were awful: they mocked her name, height, hair colour, behaviour; they poked her to make her jump, they dared people to touch her so they would get shocked by her static, they called her "grandma"; the nuns told her it was her own fault. A few weeks later, and for the rest of the term she was a ghost, nobody paid her any attention, picked her for sports, asked her for help. She was there.
She remembered her first day, how she had waited in front of the classroom from dawn, how one by one students came to kiss hello only to get shocked, how they would soon prank newcomers by letting them kiss her, how they laughed at her.
The nuns didn't like her either, they always scolded her for being so aloof and cold, telling her she should be more like her fellow classmates, how a young lady shouldn't be exercising, daydreaming, drawing, writing, how unacceptable it was that despite behaving like she wasn't attending classes she still made top marks.
She dreaded the parent teacher meetings for weeks; she hated how much the nuns had to say about her, how they started by saying she was a good student so they could spend the next hour scolding her and her parents for her "behaviour".
Feeling a strong taste of blood, she sighed; too busy reminiscing she hadn't realized how deep she had chewed through.

"Mother? Dittany?" she asked.
"There is a bottle in the buffet, kitten!" answered her mother.
The mouthwatering smell of stewing vegetables and bacon filled the kitchen and the living room; Margaret opened the drawer, a swarm of origami butterflies escaped, obscuring her view for a brief moment before she grabbed the bottle.
"Mother, there were butterflies in the drawer."
"Oh!"
Embarrassed, the mother stayed hidden in the kitchen. She had picked up paper folding while Margaret was away and started making butterflies for her daughter after learning of their meaning: the blooming of young girls; the fact that they were hidden away in that one specific drawer had slipped her mind, sitting against the kitchen door, she giggled nervously.

A familiar chime rang softly.
Moments later, a tall figure emerged from the Landing Room.
"I have a surprise for youuu..." said Leonard, dramatically, as her entered the living room, looking for his wife.
A few butterflies floating above her head and resting in her hair, Margaret turned towards her father, frowned and welcomed him with a wave.
"Leonard you're-!" Elise bursted out of the kitchen to jump in her husband's arms, before stopping in her tracks and frowning at him also.
"W-welcome home..?" he asked, guilty.
"STOP DOING IT!" Elise pounded against his chest, tears welling up in her eyes.
The man had come back home with a beard; he promised his wife to never shave while out on an adventure through time.
"Please..." she begged quietly. "I don't want to miss anything... You're stealing our time away from us..." the pounding turned into a tearful hug.
Leonard stroked his wife's hair and hugged her back, whispering to her ear.
"Supper's ready..." she sniffled, wiping tears away with her sleeves before slipping back in the kitchen.
Still followed around by a few butterflies, Margaret set the table while her father left to make himself at home.

The girl entered the spacious dining room, arranged the curtains so they wouldn't be blinded by the sun, wiped the table before draping it and wiping it again, opened the tableware buffet: three bowls, three spoons, three forks, three knives, a plate for the bread and three glasses, two for beer, one for water and placed them.
To the end, for her father, to his left, for her mother, to his right, for her. She stared at the other end, how empty that seat was, how desperately it needed to be filled... By a sibling, someone better than her, normal, human; of course they wouldn't sit there but that one specific seat had a way of taunting her, of staying in her sight.
Sighing, she walked towards the kitchen, walked backwards towards the buffet and placed a trivet on the table, for the pot, before making her way to the kitchen once more.
"I know you're angry but I know just HOW MUCH you looove shaving me..." teased Leonard, tracing his wife's back with his finger.
"Maybe! Still!" huffed Elise, pushing the door open with her shoulder, holding the pot in both hands.
"I was going to open it for you..." he mumbled, following her with the bread.
Margaret quietly stood aside to let them pass and followed back into the dining room.

With the whole family sat down and salivating at the delicious smell, Leonard held out his hands, that the two girls grasped as he said the graces.
The father sighed, smiled at his two most treasured women and stood up to serve the stew.
The mouthwatering aroma wafted towards the three of them when he opened the lid, he grabbed Elise's bowl, filled it and returned it, he did the same for Margaret's and finally his own.
He watched them for a moment, content, a satisfied smile on his face, before digging in.
"So what brings you here, Margaret?" asked the father, reaching for the bread.
"Don't say my name. Professor Fig said I had the day to myself so I thought I would spend it home." she gestured towards the bread.
"I see. And how is school? Have you made any... Friends?" he moved the knife along the bread asking for the size of the cut.
"No." she nodded when the knife was over the right thickness.

"Friends." she scoffed mentally, how could a monster like her befriend humans? At least he had the decency of not asking her if she had found a lover.
Grabbing the piece of bread, she dipped it in the stew under the concerned gaze of her parents, her thoughts drifting towards her unbearable inadequacy
"...Not even that African girl?" he frowned quizzically.
"Oh! About that! Actually! It turns out that girl was a Slytherin boy using Polyjuice potion. I was disgusted but a little relieved because she made me really uncomfortable but I wasn't sure why." she answered, her face lighting up.
"That..." Leonard clenched his fist, his wife covered her mouth in shock.
"Don't worry, we weren't close, and he's gone now. Poor Hufflepuffs though... He stayed in their Common Room." she added, before enjoying a brussels' sprout.
Her father clicked his tongue, returning to his stew.

"What about that boy you told me about?" asked Elise, smiling gently.
"I'm fairly certain he's using me because I'm good at magic." she answered bluntly. "Oh but his friend is nice. Actually they were... The three is was sitting with in the train... If you remember. His friend does. Ominis Gaunt."
Her parents gave her a concerned look but didn't interrupt.
"Hm... my first Defense of the Dark Arts class... Oh by the way, the teacher is Professor Hecat, your old colleague... She made us duel. Sebastian and I. And I... Kind of made a fool out of him but he seemed more impressed than angry. Ever since he kind of... Wants to do... Things."
She resumed eating for a moment.
"Things?" asked Leonard.
"Looking for a cure. His sister is cursed." she dipped another piece of bread. "It's really bad apparently."
"Oh. I can... Ask Arthur, or maybe his wife." he scratched his beard.
The name sent a shiver down her spine, she didn't know why, she knew her uncle, why did his name fill her with dread?
"Are you alright kitten?" asked Elise.
The girl nodded, enjoying a piece of potato.

"Oh! Ominis! That's the boy that was sleeping on the floor!" laughed Leonard.
"He did..? Well... He's blind." Margaret frowned quizzically.
"Ah that makes sense. Poor kid." he sighed "How's Margot?"
"Mhm" nodded the girl, eating a forkful.
"Oh and she has the cutest pet rat!" he said to his wife.
"She's not my pet, she's my classmate." replied his daughter, patting her mouth with her napkin.
"Thank god I didn't kiss her." chuckled the man.
"I have to ask you about a picture after supper." she added, focusing back on her meal.
Both her parents nodded as they enjoyed a supper together, something all of them had dearly missed.

Grabbing the dishes, Margaret shook her head at her parents so they would let her clear the table.
"I'll bring dessert. Did you make one?" she asked.
"Oh no! I forgot!" exclaimed Elise.
Holding a cherry pie, tableware and the picture book under her arm, Margaret returned to the dining room to the gestured cheers of her parents.
"Making good use of the castle's kitchens aren't you?" chuckled her father.
Flicking her wand sharply, she cut the pie and served everyone, before opening the book to the marked page.
"Where was it? When was it? Who is this?" she asked, pointing at the familiar looking child.
"Oh" Leonard's eyes went wide "That was... You weren't even 10."
He looked at the picture more closely.
"That's your aunt, my sister." he pointed at the red haired woman next to the three of them. "Ah, that was at Koldovstoretz, we were touring the school for you under her recommendation, a classy Pureblood soirée" he added, lifting his pinky.
"Hm... That girl, you say? I remember the two of you stared at each other quite a lot, but you both stayed put all evening, even though we tried to have you socialize..." remarked Elise with a gentle smile.
"Oh, I remember... You should... Ask her about her past yourself if you know her. It's not our place to talk about it." Leonard cleared his throat, his wife nodding in approval.
"I see... Sorry." replied Margaret, staring at the child in the picture.
"For what my little angel?" her father ruffled her hair, smiling gently.
"Ah the finches! Why did you put them away?" asked the girl.
"I thought their singing bothered you." answered Leonard, confused.
"I enjoyed it..." she stared at her half-eaten piece of pie.
"I'll get them back in the living room, then." he smiled.
"Are you still staying the night, kitten?" asked Elise.
"...No... I fell asleep earlier, I should go back to the castle... Just in case... Sorry..." she looked at her watch "I should get ready soon..."
"Go ahead, I'll take care of the dishes." her mother smiled gently.

Sighing, Margaret packed her things and put her robes back on, she looked around the room, disappointed she wouldn't spend the night in its familiar comfort, without snoring roommates.
Opening the tin box on her desk she grabbed a few orange candies, sighed again and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her so no pet would try to erase her and Margot's smells.

Climbing down the stairs, the girl could hear her father's distinctive giggle, some kind of hummed laughter, followed by his wife's gigglesnark and sounds of kissing.
Elise was sitting on his chest as he was laying in the couch, kissing him as they whispered in each other's ears.
"I'm going to butcher you, I will slip and slip again..." she grinned, pulling lightly on his beard.
He giggled again.
"Oho... Getting bold, aren't we? How daring." he taunted, before planting a kiss on her lips.
"I'm going." interrupted Margaret, looking unbothered, unlike her beet red parents.
"Ah! Kitten!" exclaimed her mother, running for a last hug.
Arms along her body, the girl waited for the embrace to be over.
"I feel like I'm forgetting something but... It doesn't matter." she said out loud.
"Good night." said her father, smiling and waving.

Maybe her parents would be lucky tonight and they would finally have an adequate child, she pinched her fingers hard as she entered the Landing Room, feeling like they had to be relieved to have her out of the house again.