Chapter 2 : Truth
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“Mum? Dad?” I got no response, so I proceeded to stroll into the kitchen. The kettle was still warm so poured myself a cup and sat on the counter.
“Molly, off the counter!” My father stood on the landing with an empty cup in one hand and the Prophet in the other.
“Hi, Daddy.” I jumped off the counter at once and walked over to where he was and gave him a squeeze.
“Molly Olivia, why are you all wet?” My father looked me up and down and gave me a disapproving look. I cowered under his stare.
“It was uh, just a game at the party,” I stuttered. Kissing his cheek, I ran up the stairs to the washroom. I peeled off my clothes and threw them down the laundry chute. I turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water roll down my back.
After my shower, I stepped into my room, now dry and re-dressed, to find a letter upon my bed. I sat down and examined the rain stained envelope. It appeared to have come from owl post, for there was no return address. I slid my finger under the flap and opened up my letter. Something fell out but I ignored it, and sat back on my bed.
Dear Miss Molly Weasley,
Congratulations, you have been chosen as a 5th year Ravenclaw Prefect. Although not extensive, your duties as a prefect include, but are not limited to; monitoring the halls for students out of bed after curfew, supervising detentions when a staff member is unable to be present, and behaving as a model student and a trusted role model.
Enclosed please find your Prefects badge which should be worn on your school robes at all times
Please report to the Prefects’ carriage for more information, 1 September, on the Hogwarts Express.
Once again, congratulations.
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
I dropped the letter and picked up my badge, running my thumb over the smooth metal. I caught a glance of my reflection and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Mum! Dad!” I jumped off my bed and ran down the stairs. When I reached the landing I saw my very drunk little sister staggering down the hall towards two very angry parents. The vein in my father’s neck began to pulse.
“Not now, Molly,” my father warned, his voice stern. I began to retreat up the stairs, listening to my sister stutter and laugh, high on Lord knows what.
I sighed, closing my door and opening my curtains. Houses these days seemed to be getting closer together. I mean sure, I’ve lived here all my life but really I could practically touch the window across from mine. I saw a light and opened my window, breathing in the fresh air. Taking a blank piece of parchment, I crumpled it up into a ball and threw it at the window, a few meters from my own. Laughing, I ducked and waited for the sound of squeaky glass being pushed open.
“That was rude,” a voice called.
I sat up giggling only to be hit in the face with my parchment ball. He bloody attacked me with my own weapon!
“Hey!” I laughed throwing it back into the now open window. Lorcan sat in the window sill, and grinned at me.
“How was the party?” He asked, swinging his legs around so he was practically hanging out the window.
“Don’t get me started. You’re going to fall, Lorcan.” I said, doing the same.
“Yeah, when pigs fly!” He said, his blonde hair dancing in the breeze. He grabbed a book and began to skim a few pages.
“I can make that happen you know,” I added, giggling. “Guess what!” I slipped back inside my own room, grabbing my letter and badge, and sat back down on the sill. “Dear Miss Molly Weasley,” I read aloud my letter to him in my very best McGonagall voice. He applauded me, and I bowed, showing off my shiny pin.
“Lorcan! I need your help!” A voice called from Lorcan’s house, causing him to roll his eyes and run his hand through his hair.
“I’ve have to go Molls, I’ll catch you later, okay?” He swung his legs back inside his room. Closing his window, he bid me a farewell.
I slipped back into my own room and glanced at the clock. It was half past ten and even though it was still summer, I decided I should go to bed.
I changed into my sleep wear and sat on my bed, thrilled by my letter. I reread it over and over determined to memorize each and every word.
I heard yelling down stairs and Mum’s soft sniffling –seriously, our walls are paper thin. I walked out of my room and sat down on the top step. My dad met my eyes and shook his head, silently telling me to go to bed. Instead, I rested my head against the banister, the wood felt cool against my hot cheek. A tear slid down my face but I brushed it away and continued listening to the banter. I was furious that my sister was so heartless. I love her to death, she was just so out-spoken. (Something she certainly inherited from my father.) I closed my eyes, shielding them from the harsh light in the hall. At the mention of my name my eyes flew open, my ears clinging to each word.
“She’s just such a freak! Why do you think she came home like that, Dad? Do you even know how she came home? OH that’s right, you’re just so caught up in disciplining my sorry ass, that you don’t give a shit! None of us do! The clan is beyond sick of her; she can go to hell for all I care.”
I heard my dad roar, but I couldn’t make out what he said. I felt numb. Pounding footsteps started up the stairwell, and I got up and retreated to my room, silently closing the door behind me. I stood against the door and began to shake. It’s not like I hadn’t heard this before. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know when you’re not wanted. Tears came heavily down my cheeks, stinging my dry skin. I bit my lip as my body shook and sobs rose inside my chest. I fell to the ground and let my heart be wrenched out of my chest. It actually did feel like that you know, my chest hurt quite badly. However, you wanna know the worst part? They knew. They knew I knew. My parents knew I heard my sister’s speech, and as I lay there on the floor, still no footsteps came. They never would. Even though they knew I knew, my damned parents would play it off, and never say a word about it. That’s just how our family worked, don’t ask don’t tell.
You know, they say people are the most honest, when they are under an unstable mind-frame.
Good thing Lucy was drunk.
A/N - Thanks for reading! Don't forget to feed that hungry review box down there... :)
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by Leigh Kelley