My brother decides that I'm not socializing enough, so when my father has his friends around, my brother suggests that they invite their children. Of course, I protest, because I do not want to see Marcus Flint. We resolve that I am to invite my old friends from Hogwarts to the manor.

I am surprised that they arrive.

Bronwyn arrives in a large cloak made with leather from some wild magical animal in the Americas. Even though it is now June, and much too hot for something so thick and heavy, she wears it draped over her shoulders, carefully revealing her baby bump. She looks rounder now, much rounder than I am surely, and she seems to glow.

"Larkin," she says, and stiffens her face. There is a pause, a silence fills the air. My brother waits in the room next door, making sure that I do in fact socialize. There is no escape.

"Hello," Silas pulls me into a tight hug. I can smell the Amortentia on his breath. Vanilla, and then firewood and cinnamon. He smells like Christmas morning.

Fred was going to tell me he loved me, and he never got the chance. I could've told him that I cared for him more deeply than I've cared for anyone else before, and that I imagine I will care for anyone else again. I want him to know that I imagine no one will ever love me the way that he did. As deeply.

Silas pulls back and wraps his arm around Bronwyn's shoulder. His eyes gleam, but they are cloudy. I can't make contact with him. It's like he's been flung somewhere too far away to apparate.

We enter the living room, and my brother exits it, dipping off towards the kitchen.

"I'm dreadfully sorry about your mother," Bronwyn says. "Do you visit her portrait often?"

It is the only place that I haven't wandered in these halls. I avoid it like nothing else. I don't want to talk to her anymore. At least, I want our silence to remain until I have made it up to her.

"I haven't the need," it's mostly a truth, but it's also a lie. "How have you two been? It's been so long."

Bronwyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ears, flashing the jewel she got all those months ago at Hogwarts. It's on her ring finger, as well as another band. I want to tell her something that Mr. Weasley told me. Engagement rings are actually a muggle tradition, not a wizard one. Still, I hold my tongue, because I have learned better than to burn my bridges.

"We've been busy, haven't we darling?" Bronwyn asks.

Silas, who hasn't been able to look anywhere but at her, nods. He puts his head on her shoulder, curling up into her. "We were married in November."

"Congratulations!" I try to beam, to make myself more excited than I am, but I ache for both of them. For Bronwyn, who thinks that she is incapable of being loved, and for Silas, who dares not live for himself. Who am I to judge them, when I sit in the same boat?

"Thank you," Bronwyn says, finally smiling. At least she feels like she won. She must know that Silas can never truly be with her. Her whole demeanor is confusing. There is no flash of her white teeth to indicate the frustration she hides behind her smile, no crinkle of the eye to let me know that she is sad. She's as flat as a brick wall. Without crack. "We're very happy. Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not since my mother's death," I tell her.

"You should reach out to Ander," Silas says, a smile on his face.

Bronwyn shuffles in her seat, her eyes flicker with something. She rests her hands on her belly. "I don't know that Ander Ander would be interested anymore."

Honestly, I can't tell if she is trying to embarrass me or save me from embarrassment. We both know Ander Ander's persuasion, as Ander Ander were to call it.

"I have time to find someone suitable," I point out.

"You need more than someone suitable," Silas says. His eyes warm as he looks up at Bronwyn. He places a hand on her enlarged stomach and strokes it gently. "You need someone you love with everything. Everything."

I feel nauseous. Is this the life ahead of me? If so, I cannot handle it. Certainly, I cannot. The thought makes me nauseous.

I stand up, just as the doorbell rings. I walk over to it and open the door.

Elora is on the other side, with Marcus Flint in tow.

"Larkin," she smiles. "How're you? I hope you don't mind that I've brought a date."

"Not at all," I say, feeling myself grow more and more ill. At least she seems happy, and my greatest fear cannot come true. Maybe I can stay, and make my mother happy. Marry Ander Ander, like everyone keeps forcing upon me.

You can do this, Larkin. You can do anything you so long as you believe it possible.

I lead them into the sitting room, and all five of us find our seats. Marcus looks at me and winks.

My nausea won't go away.

"What are you up to these days, Elora?" I ask, trying to make small talk. Anything to distract myself from my growing distress.

"I'm working for the Prophet," she says. "We're covering a new story. Digging deep. It's explosive."

"What's it about?" Bronwyn asks, leaning forward. Her interest is obviously peaked. It doesn't take more than a bit of gossip to get her attention. She's always been the same.

"I can't divulge too many details," Elora smirks. She leans against Marcus, who leans a step backwards. I watch Elora's lips twitch. "It has to do with the origin of Mudblood magic. Quite interesting."

Okay, now I definitely can't handle it. "Anyone want water?"

"I'll take some," Bronwyn says, stroking her stomach. "Just be wary that I'll need to use the water closet later."

I nod and head into the kitchen. There, my brother awaits me. He already has taken out a glass and poured water for me.

"Go back out there," he instructs me.

I shake my head. "I just need a little break. Two minutes."

"You need to act normal," he points out, his voice throaty and hushed. "Marcus is here, and he's still interested."

"He's with Elora," I hiss, trying to keep our voices down. I don't know who can hear our arguments. We're surely far enough away that our mumbles can't be heard, but if he raises his voice, we're soon to be discovered.

"I told him to invite himself along, so he'd get a chance to see how pretty you look now that you've lost all that baby fat." He snaps at me, actually snaps at me. He points at me with the wand in his hand and gestures for me to leave. "Go."

I know better than to tell him to make me.

"No," I tell him. I head up through the main room towards the upstairs, but my brother grabs me around my wrist and drags me back.

"Don't make me obliviate your memory," he says. "I can't erase Fred from it, he's too intertwined, but I can erase everything else."

I try to rip myself from him. If I apparate now, I'm going to take him along with me. "Let go of me. Let go!"

He covers a hand over my mouth. I bite down on his palm, and he shrieks out in pain. I leap forward, and just as I'm about to apparate away, I hear him shout.

"Crucio!"

It hits me just as I move away.

I cry out in pain, writhing in a space of nothing, as I'm ripped around and torn up. I land on the ground, on our grounds, where my brother first attacked me all those nights ago. I can't do anything but shake on the ground, waiting for my brother to come find me.

~~~~~

Sorry for the break. I got really sick and just needed some time off. It wasn't anything with a c, so don't worry too much. I'm staying safe.

I hope you all can stay safe too.