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Old August 28th, 2011, 8:10 pm
marauderfan  Female.gif marauderfan is offline
Second Year
Join Date: 02nd August 2006
Location: Beyond the veil
Age: 29
Posts: 261
Re: The Brave at Heart

Thanks to nevillesgal and PotterGirl654 for your feedback. You guys are great.

Warning: this is a rather turbulent chapter. And it's a doozy...


Chapter 22: Over the Edge

When we got back to the house, I lugged my stuff upstairs and into my room. My room was exactly how it had been when I’d left last summer, except perhaps everything had a bit more dust on it and Mum had been storing a few boxes in here. I could see the corner of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them sticking out from under the bed – I’d been wondering what had happened to that book for ages.

I set Aquilo’s cage on top of my trunk, and he hooted and clicked his beak, reminding me that he’d been in his cage all day and must want to fly around a bit. I opened his cage and he flapped around my room until I’d got the window open, and he soared off. My trunk continued to sit in the middle of my floor; I was far too tired to consider unpacking it at the moment.

I eventually walked downstairs to get some food. Mum was in the kitchen, and Dad was in the adjoining living room reading the newspaper. “It’s good to have you back,” Mum said as I walked in. “Have you got all your stuff unpacked yet? I don’t want you leaving your clothes all over the floor like you did last summer.”

“Er, not quite,” I admitted. “Almost.” Overstatement of the century… It was fortunate Mum wasn’t very good at Legilimency.

“Nathan’s at work, but he should be home soon,” said Mum. “I know he’s missed you too. He’s been promoted at work, he’s doing so well. We’re so proud of him. I can only hope you’re as successful once you leave Hogwarts.”

Dad said, “I think you can be, if you stop hanging around with Mudbloods and other riffraff and make real friends who will help you on your way to success, rather than associate you with Muggles. Nathan is very well connected, because he’s in with circles of people who matter.” He shook his newspaper to get a large fly off of it.

“And you’ll want to do much better on your N.E.W.T.s than you did on your O.W.L.s,” Mum suggested. “You should have been ashamed of your O.W.L. grades.”

“Right,” I said vacantly.

The fly continued to buzz around Dad’s head, and he looked up from the newspaper and pointed his wand at the fly. “Avada Kedavra,” he said casually, and the fly dropped dead on the arm of the sofa. He flicked his wand and the fly sailed over into the rubbish bin on the other side of the room.

“Conway, I wish you wouldn’t do that in the house,” said Mum. “What if Melanie had been standing over there?”

I decided it was about time to head back upstairs. As soon as I left the room and walked into the hallway, the front door opened and Nathan was there. I grinned and ran to greet him. “Hey!” I said excitedly.

“You’re back!” he said, smiling and hugging me. “Hope the train ride home wasn’t too long.”

“Not too bad, how was work?”

“Great, although exhausting. They made me go in on a Saturday! Right now I’m pretty jealous of Dad, he can just work whenever he feels like it. I don’t think he’s done anything this week.”

Dad was the co-owner of a company that made cauldrons, and could take time off whenever he wanted.

“Well, you are in the Ministry, you signed up for hard work!” I said.

“They didn’t say that explicitly in my job description.”

I laughed. Nathan was just the same as he had ever been. How could I have suspected him of being a Death Eater? I’d freaked myself out over nothing, and then our minimal communication during the year hadn’t helped. I was really glad to see him again.

The following day Nathan and I played Quidditch. Each of us was simultaneously Chaser, Beater and Keeper. So when Nathan had the Quaffle, depending on where he was on the field, I had to either hit the Bludger at him (we were only using one), or block the goal hoop. We didn’t use a Snitch – we simply finished when we got tired of playing three Quidditch team positions.

Nathan had work again on Monday, which meant it was just me home alone with my parents. It was best for everyone’s sake if I didn’t spend much time with them, so I usually had a project every summer that would enable me to spend most of my time by myself but not be bored. Last year I had tried gardening, until Dad worked out that none of the things I planted had any magical properties, and subsequently tore up my garden. I had pointed out that much of the food he ate was grown in a garden and had no magical properties, but when did he ever listen to reason?

This summer I had decided I would learn to paint, so when Nathan left for work, I went to London and bought a few supplies, and set up in my room. I set up the easel in the center of the floor and started sketching. I didn’t really know where to start, but I figured it would be best to draw an outline before I began painting. After that, I spent the day painting a picture of Hogwarts. It was supposed to look like Hogwarts, at any rate, but it wasn’t very good. But I’d get better over the summer.

At dinner that evening, Mum asked me, “What have you been doing so secretly all day?”

“I’m learning to paint,” I said.

Mum looked baffled, as if she thought no one in their right mind would do such a thing. Dad paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Only Muggles do that,” he said.

Where had he got such a ridiculous notion? “Anyone can paint, Dad – just because you don’t, it doesn’t mean only Muggles do.”

“If you want to make art, it’s a lot faster and much better with magic!”

Only when Nathan backed me up and said his coworker Randolph painted, was Dad happy. Dad apparently approved of Randolph, who was a pureblood and very well-respected in the Ministry.

Other than on the weekends, Nathan wasn’t around much, because he worked during the week, and then after work would usually spend time with Lucius Malfoy and his other friends. So I spent a lot of time painting during the week. A few days later I received an owl from Mandy asking me to go see Star Wars with her. I laughed aloud; I could just imagine Mr. Macintosh had talked about it so often that Mandy had finally told him she’d go.

I wrote back to her and we planned out when and where to meet, so the next day I was about to leave when Mum stopped me. “Where are you going?” she asked suspiciously.

“London,” I said.

“What for?”

“I’m meeting a friend.” I couldn’t tell her I was going to see Mandy; neither of my parents liked her and didn’t want me to spend time with her. Plus, the two of us were about to go into a Muggle theater and watch a Muggle movie, something they would not approve of.

“Who? When will you be back? Why are you dressed like that? You look like a Muggle!”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, and I dressed like this because obviously I can’t run around looking like a witch when there are Muggles around!”

She didn’t look pleased, but said, “Have a good time.”

"Thanks." I grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, threw it into the fireplace, and said, “The Leaky Cauldron!”

I appeared in the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron and met Mandy who had Apparated there, and then we left and went out into Muggle London. We got ice cream at a shop, which was an interesting venture because I tried to pay with a Sickle and the woman at the shop just stared at me until Mandy saw what had happened and pulled out her Muggle money. She told the woman I was foreign, and paid for my ice cream. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid as to try to use my wizarding money – I just hadn’t thought at all about it.

After this minor mishap, we spent a while pretending to be Muggles, and as usual discussed typical Muggle things like airplanes and dishwashing machines as we walked to the theater.

We both enjoyed the movie. Muggle technology never ceased to amaze me – the wizarding world didn’t have anything quite like the movies! As we left, Mandy and I discussed when would be best for me to stay with her at her house. I didn’t know how I’d run it by my parents without them instantly saying no, but I’d deal with that later. We decided that I’d go over in a couple of weeks, which would hopefully give me enough time to convince my parents.

One day at the beginning of July I was sitting on the sofa, skimming through the Daily Prophet, and saw an article called “Death Eaters Identified,” written by Leonora Macintosh – Mandy’s mum. The article discussed how people should take extra care to make sure their friends and family were not under the Imperius curse, and how your seemingly friendly coworker could be a Death Eater and you might not even know it. It even listed, as exclusive new information, a few Death Eaters by name, and I saw Henry Avery on the list: Charlotte’s father. Most of the other names I didn’t know, although there were a few Dad had mentioned as people he knew and liked.

“Are you reading the rubbish that woman wrote about Death Eaters?” Dad asked, noticing me reading the paper.

“Yeah, I’m reading it.”

“That woman is terrible,” said Dad. “She has no idea what she’s talking about, and clearly doesn’t understand that the Death Eaters are just helping us out. She has no business writing any of that.”

“Hmm,” I said noncommittally, and turned the page. The next article was a detailed and dramatic account of the private life of the didgeridoo player in the Hobgoblins, and my eyes drifted over the page without actually reading anything.

It dawned on me that the way I acted with my family mirrored the way Althea reacted to bullies like Vanessa. Dealing with people like Elliott Jasper over the years at Hogwarts had given me the strength to stand up for myself, and I could do it at school. But it was totally different with my family.

They thought that I still had their way of thinking, but had mistakenly made friends they didn’t approve of. In reality, I just didn’t believe the nonsense they spouted about purebloods being like royalty. At home, I was still the scared, shy first year I once had been; I needed to finally stand up to my family. And then they could either accept me for who I was, or they’d get angry – and I didn’t like to deal with Dad when he was angry – but it would pass. I was just tired of living a lie at home for years.

Nathan was at home the following day. As I was eating breakfast, he walked into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes – he had clearly just tumbled out of bed. “Morning,” he yawned, and walked over to a cabinet, reached up and got a bowl. I saw a dark shape on his left wrist peeking out from underneath his sleeve; Nathan had apparently started his teenage rebellion years a bit late and gotten a tattoo. He saw me staring at it and moved his arm so I couldn’t see it anymore. I rolled my eyes. “Where are the cornflakes?” he asked.

“They’re out on the table,” I said. He was very clearly still asleep. “What are you up to today – after you’ve actually woken up, that is?”

“Let’s play Quidditch,” he suggested, coming over to the table and pouring cornflakes into the bowl.

“Sure! I’m totally going to win because you’re asleep.”

After I finished breakfast, I brought my broom downstairs and leaned it against the wall in the front hallway. I read the Daily Prophet while I waited for Nathan, and he took his time, writing a letter to someone after he had finished eating. “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep writing that letter,” I told him eventually. “It’s got to be the length of a novel by now.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m just about finished,” he said, and walked into the front hallway to get his owl, Bellona, whose cage was on a shelf just off the entryway. As he tied the letter onto her leg, I got a better look at his wrist. I could only see half of the design, but it looked eerily familiar… I grabbed his wrist and yanked the sleeve up, exposing the black outline of a skull and snake.

Nathan let go of his owl and drew his arm away from me sharply. Bellona screeched and flapped around our heads, but I ignored her.

“What is that, Nathan?” I asked, nonplussed. “You decided to get a tattoo of the Dark Mark? Voldemort’s symbol? What the hell is that all about?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, tugging his sleeve back down.

“You’re trying to show your support for Voldemort?”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” he insisted. “Did you get your broom yet? We were going to play Quidditch.”

I wasn’t about to let him change the topic so quickly. “Nathan, are you a Death Eater?” He didn't even have to respond; the instant I asked it, I knew. I closed my eyes in horror, and turned away, speechless.

I couldn’t believe it. I thought I knew him. My own brother, whom I had been so close to when we were growing up, whom I’d always looked up to, was now a Death Eater. He was the one who’d encouraged me to stand up for my beliefs – and here he was doing the same thing, but it was to support Voldemort. I felt like he’d personally betrayed me. It was one thing to have suspected it earlier this year, but now to know for sure was terrible. How long had he been a Death Eater?

“Melanie, what’s wrong?” His voice faltered.

I stared back at him. What kind of question was that? “What’s wrong?” I repeated hysterically. “You’re working for Voldemort!”

Nathan flinched. “Look, I—”

I laughed mirthlessly, interrupting him. I didn’t care what he had to say – whatever explanation he had, it was never going to be enough. “Don’t want to hear his name, huh? He’s The Dark Lord to you? Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort.”

The commotion drew my parents from the living room into the hallway, but I just kept talking. “All this time you’ve been telling me about your Ministry job, but you just failed to mention that in your spare time you’ve been running around killing innocent people!”

My voice was about ten times higher in pitch than usual. I turned to face my parents and finally let loose on my family everything I’d kept inside for the past six years. “If I’ve learned anything from being sorted into Slytherin, it’s that pure blood means nothing, and everything you’ve taught me is wrong!” I shrieked. “And Voldemort just wants power for himself, he doesn’t give a damn about anyone else! All his Death Eaters, like you,” I pointed menacingly at Nathan, “just play around with Unforgivable Curses! I can’t take it anymore!”

I had never been so rude to him before – I usually tried to keep all my anger towards my family inside so situations like this wouldn’t happen. But I was past the point of no return.

My father roared with rage, his face a dark maroon color. He grabbed my arm, but I wrenched it out of his grasp so he picked up my Cleansweep from where it was leaning against the wall, and swung it at me. I screamed and ducked to avoid it, and then leapt a few stairs up the staircase. I was stopped halfway up by a Body-Bind curse, fell down, tumbled down a few stairs and lay diagonally on the staircase.

“NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME, YOU INSOLENT GIRL!” my father shouted, throwing my Cleansweep on the floor. “The Dark Lord has power you can’t even dream of! I didn’t ask for a lecture on your stupid ideas, we all know you’ve been making a fool of yourself at Hogwarts running around with your filthy half-blood, Muggle-loving friends!”

I couldn’t say anything while I was trapped, immobile and somewhat upside down, on the stairs. Dad sent another curse at me, and as I was unable to move out of the way, it hit me and my entire body stung with pain. Bellona continued to flap around the room and screech, angry that she was being ignored with a letter tied on to her foot.

“Stop it,” Mum finally insisted, and released the Body-Bind curse.

“Mum’s a half-blood!” I argued the instant I could move again, stumbling down a few stairs as I got up. “Grandpa was Muggle-born!” Mum looked ashamed at my words. Dad grimaced and flinched as if there was an irksome fly buzzing in his ear, and he aimed another Body-Bind curse at me.

I fell to the floor again, and my parents ignored me as they argued. “I know we can’t all agree, but she’s our daughter, Conway! You’re both being unreasonable! Melanie, why did you do this?”

“Stay out of this, Helen! She is nothing but a blood traitor! You know as well as I do that her best friend’s father is a Muggle!”

My mother said nothing, but lifted the curse off me again. Nathan didn’t even come to my defense. I started to edge back up the stairs again as Dad went into another of his rants about how “Muggles ruined wizards’ lives and Mudbloods impurified the wizard race”… It was all worn-out arguments I’d heard a thousand times before, and I ran back up the rest of the stairs. At the top landing, I heard Dad’s voice call, “Not so fast!”

I paused reluctantly, and he came around the corner into view. “Come back down here, this isn’t finished.” He continued as I walked slowly back down the stairs, clutching the railing so tightly my knuckles were white. “If you think you’re going to be staying in this house this summer,” he said, “I don’t want to hear another word about how much you love Mudbloods, it’s important work Nathan is doing for the Dark Lord, and he’ll be rewarded for it. You should be proud of your brother! But you’ve turned into such a pathetic Muggle-lover, you wouldn’t understand. Let me know when you’ve come around and realized how wrong you are. But in the meantime I won’t let you get in the way of what he’s doing.”

“If I’d ever had any respect for you, I would have just lost it,” I announced, fighting back tears. “I’ve been so tolerant, but I shouldn’t have to be – you’re my family! I just can’t believe this.”

You’ve been tolerant?” he asked. “We’ve been the ones dealing with the embarrassment of a blood traitor for a daughter! You are such a disappointment! You hang around with Mudbloods, listen to your Muggle music and read those Muggle books… And I expected more O.W.Ls from you, but all your Mudblood friends must have rubbed off on you, because you got what I’d have expected from a Mudblood.”

Next to him, Mum was watching me, looking very conflicted with herself. Nathan’s face was impassive.

“I have nothing to say to you,” I finally said.

Dad pointed his wand at the front door, which swung open with a bang. It crashed into the wall and knocked a picture onto the floor. The frame shattered and the subject of the painting screeched and ran out of sight in the frame to take refuge in another painting down the hall. “There you go. You’re so keen to disassociate yourself from us, then leave. Leave!” he cried, when I hesitated.

“I’m going,” I said. I walked down the last couple of stairs, and Mum rushed over to me and hugged me. After she released me, she turned to Dad and said softly, “Please, Conway, you’ll regret this later.”

“It’s her own choice as much as it is mine,” he said. He faced me again. “Go!” he thundered, as I looked at Nathan, who refused to meet my eyes. I turned around, picked up my Cleansweep from the floor, and walked out the door, leaving my family behind. It was so hard to leave Nathan; I wanted to run back to him and tell him to reconsider what he was doing, but he’d made his decision of loyalties years ago. The door slammed behind me, and I didn’t bother to hold in my tears any longer.

I had thought living in that house every summer was bad enough – but now I didn’t even have a place I could call home. I couldn’t believe how yesterday I had been thinking it was time I spoke up; I wished I had just kept my stupid mouth shut. It was barely two weeks into the summer and I was alone, kicked out of my own house, with almost no money and no idea what to do.

I walked down the front yard, and when I was just at the street I remembered all my luggage was still in my room. “Accio trunk!” I said shakily, and my trunk crashed loudly through my window, sending glass everywhere, and flew out to me. I then summoned Aquilo’s cage, which soared through the hole in the window and landed on the trunk. Then I just sat down at the side of the road with all my things, completely at a loss for what to do.

I considered going to Mandy’s house to stay – I hoped it would be fine if I showed up earlier than we’d planned. I knew she and her family would be as welcoming and kind as always, but I’d never stayed there for an entire summer before, only a week every now and then. Suddenly I heard the crack of Apparating coming from inside my house, a scream, and some more shouting. Then the door was thrown open, Mandy hopped out on one leg, and the door slammed again.

“Mandy!” I called, shocked. She looked up and saw me at the edge of our yard and attempted to hop towards me, but collapsed after a few jumps. I ran back to the house to join her and was horrified when I saw her up close – half her left leg was missing, and her face was red and blotchy; she had clearly been crying.

What happened?” I gasped, staring at her bloody stump of a leg. “Where’s your leg? What are you doing here?”

“Death Eaters,” she sobbed. “There’s – someone attacked – everything’s gone – Death Eaters…”

My own family problems, which five minutes ago I had thought were going to ruin my whole summer, were trivial compared to whatever had happened to Mandy. She was shaking violently. “What happened, Mandy? Did Death Eaters attack you? Is that why your leg is missing?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t attacked – I think I – I Splinched myself… b-but my parents are gone, I don’t… I don’t know what happened…”

“Okay… Are the Death Eaters gone? Should we go to your house?” I looked at her for a response, and she nodded dazedly.

“But we’re not Apparating. I can’t…”

“Just hold on to my arm, I’ll bring you by Side-Along-Apparition.” I summoned my trunk, broomstick and owl cage over to where Mandy and I were standing; as I wouldn’t be returning for the summer, I decided to take all my belongings with me. I opened Aquilo’s cage to let him out, and put a Shrinking Charm on my broom and Aquilo’s empty cage and put them into my trunk. I then grasped my trunk in one hand and Mandy’s arm in the other, and Apparated to Mandy’s house.

The scene that met my eyes was worse than I could have imagined. It was no wonder Mandy had Splinched herself; she had been too distraught to think clearly. Mandy’s beautiful, perfect house was reduced to piles of ashes, still smouldering. The big tree in her yard that we had loved to sit under was lying on its side, uprooted and charred. The whole place was unrecognizable. I saw what looked like her dog lying amidst a pile of rubble, its legs sticking out at odd angles.

“Oh Merlin, Mandy, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. She sat on my trunk and just stared blankly at the remains of her house. There were a million questions I wanted to ask her, but she wasn’t in a state to answer questions or even speak at all. I wished I could do something as we simply watched the smoke continue to rise from the debris. As I stood there, my hand still on her arm, I spotted the other half of her leg in the yard.

I went over to pick it up, and carried it back to Mandy. She ignored it. I had no idea how to reattach it, and if Mandy knew how she certainly wouldn’t be able to do anything about it at the moment. “We need to go to St. Mungo’s,” I said. “I know your leg is probably the least of your concerns, but you have to get it back on. Can we go?”

She didn’t respond. She was no longer in hysterics, or even crying, but she just continued looking at her house, absently picking at the initials M.R.H. on the side of my trunk. “Hold on to my hand,” I said, and then realized I hadn’t the faintest idea where St. Mungo’s was. What would happen if I Apparated somewhere without knowing its location? Would we end up floating in nothingness for the rest of time? We had very little time and no idea what to do. I tried to think of a way to get there – we couldn’t fly there, or Apparate… In despair I sat down clumsily and flung my arms out in front of me, resting them on my knees.

Suddenly a huge, three-levelled, bright purple bus drove up and wildly screeched to a halt in front of us. Above the windscreen it said “The Knight Bus.” The doors opened, and out came a middle-aged wizard with a long, twirly grey moustache.

“Hello there, welcome to the Knight Bus! Emergency transportation for stranded witches and wizards, just hold out your wand hand and we’ll take you wherever you need to go! My name is—” But whoever he was, we never found out, because when he saw the ruins of Mandy’s house, he stopped speaking and stared open-mouthed out of the door.

It was quite lucky this bus had arrived. “Do you know where St. Mungo’s is?” I asked urgently. “We have to get there right away but we don’t know where it is!”

He looked back at us. “Er – yes, that’s in London, that is. Ten Sickles each, or if you want hot chocolate it’s—”

“Do we look like we want hot chocolate, you idiot?” I snapped. “Look at her leg! We just need to get to St. Mungo’s!” Mandy and I got onto the bus with difficulty and I searched my bag for money. I withdrew a Galleon and a large handful of Sickles from my trunk and thrust it at him. “Here, just get us there as soon as possible!”

The driver squinted at us, and then looked back to the front of the bus, still squinting. Suddenly the bus rocketed forward with such force that Mandy and I slid off our seats. This bus now seemed like it wasn’t the best idea – but it was the only thing we had. I looked out of the window and saw a lamppost lean out of the way of the bus barreling on by; the squinting driver must have been practically blind. The bus swerved and we slid sideways on our seats. And just as suddenly, the bus stopped, and my trunk slid forward about six feet.

“St. Mungo’s!” announced the conductor. He must have noticed how lost we felt, because he pointed out of the bus door towards an old, forgotten-looking building on the corner of a street.

“Thanks!” I said, and I hurriedly collected my things and we got off the bus. We were in front of a somewhat old department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. In the window display were various dummies wearing outdated things.

“I guess this is it,” I told Mandy. I tried the cobwebby door, but it was locked, and Alohomora did nothing. I couldn’t remember exactly what Nathan had told me about St. Mungo’s a long time ago, but I recalled that you went in through the window. So I went back to the window and tried to walk through it. One of the dummies behind the window tilted her head, and I asked her if this was the way in. She nodded and moved her hand as if beckoning us in, and with my other arm still supporting Mandy, we walked in through the window.

We were now in a clean looking reception area. The dummies had vanished, but in the center of the room was a desk, behind which an irritated-looking wizard sat in a chair. We walked up to the desk and I said very quickly, “My friend Splinched herself and her leg’s come off and—”

“Fourth floor,” the wizard grunted. “Read the sign,” and then pointed to a sign, which I did not read because he had just told us where to go. I left my trunk in the lobby, and with Mandy’s arm around my shoulder, we hobbled over to the lift. The Healers took Mandy into a room and I waited outside. They didn’t take long to fix her leg, but I knew it would be a while before she would really be all right – after all, she’d been through quite a shock today.

When she came back out, with her leg reattached as good as new, I gave her a hug and we walked silently together back down to the reception area. We found my trunk again and we both sat on it, and then wondered where to go from here.


Whew! Thanks for reading, and any comments, or tomatoes you want to throw at me, can go here.


Captain of the HMS Arts & Crafts, co-founder of Annie Is My Homegirl, Proud member of the IBP and KEBA

Last edited by marauderfan; April 13th, 2013 at 4:30 am.
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