Chapter 18 : Temper, Temper
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Inside the house was an old woman. She smiled at them, her hands mindlessly drying a mug. Further inside she could hear the echoes of their parents fighting. Lately that was all they'd been doing.
"Katsy!" One of the girls screamed, now drenched with water. The reflection, Kasy, stared back in shock, her hands held out before her. Magic.. "You aren't meant to do that outside of school!"
"I didn't mean to!" The other girl shouted back, now glaring at her palms in horror. And awe. Her wand was upstairs. It should have been impossible.
"Girls! Come inside before you get a cold!" The woman shouted from the window. When they appeared, she immediately whispered Rebecca dry, and gave Kasy a kiss on the head.
"It's nothing to be afraid of." She said for only her to hear. The girl looked up at her, her eyes shining with hope and tears.
"We'd better get going." Rebecca said, her face impatient. She was becoming her mother.. The old woman quickly shook the thought away. There was nothing wrong with it, with her granddaughter becoming her daughter. A second chance, maybe.
Kasy gave her grin and a final kiss on the cheek before darting after her sister.
In a matter of seconds, all was quiet in the house.
And it was still dark.
The reflection sat twirling one curls around her finger. The tip was turning purple, but she didn't really notice. In front of her lay a large book she'd borrowed from her Dad's office.
"Leviosa." She whispered, raising her hand slightly. The air stayed static around her. Sighing in relief, she rose to put the book back.
"Katsy! Guess what?" Her sister bounded into the room behind her. She was like a candle; everyone flew straight towards her light. Kasy was more like the moon than the sun- she sat there and reflected her sister's light. Still beautiful, but not as much.
"What?" The girl smiled at her sister.
"Mummy straightened my hair! Isn't it marvellous? There's this cream which will keep it like this for a few days, though I'll still have to straighten it every once in a while. Just you wait until I'm of age- there'll be no worries of silly curls then!"
The sun bounded back out the room, flat hair flapping on her back. The moon stared at the marks on her index finger from where her 'silly curls' had been wound.
Without muttering a single word, she looked at the book and raised her hand.
It shot in the air, smashing the ceiling before landing back down with a thump.
Heart racing and eyes aching, the moon hurried downstairs, a tiny part of her feeling more like a source than a route.
They sat in silence. Family dinners weren't meant to be like this, but everyone had been fighting. Her daughter had been fighting with Oliver, and had decided it was time to bring the twins into it. Kasy sat glaring at her sister, who pretended to ignore her while twirling her straight hair around a painted green nail, her shiny lips turned into a smile.
Mummy's little girl. That's how they all start.
No one wanted them. Oliver's leg was jumping with nerves- his team had a big match tomorrow. That had been the cause of the fight. All because of four lousy Quidditch tickets. Only two would be put into use now.
"Why don't you straighten your hair Kasy? It'll look better than that filthy mane." The mother said, cutting up her food into tiny little pieces that a fly wouldn't find hard swallowing whole.
Kasy flinched, glaring at her mother.
"Don't look at me like that!" She shouted, rising up from her chair. The old woman and the father went to protect the daughter, only to see the girl shaking. Her hands were clenched, bloodless, and her doeful eyes were more black than colour.
The mother froze.
The sister began to cry.
The father tried to shake his daughter back to him.
Only the old woman, the grandmother, shut her eyes and let it happen. Let the girl's temper overboil, the magic flowing out of her like raging water.
When it had ended, three people sat awake, bodies shaking, eyes fearful.
The reflection and the woman lay silent at the table.
"It's just a coma. It's not your fault. The doctor said that all your magic did was trigger the tumour, not cause it. She's being transferred now. She'll be fine."
Kasy sniffed into her Dad's shirt. It was dirty and baggy and smelt a bit like mud and sweat, but she didn't mind. He was missing the game to comfort her, unlike her mother and sister. They'd both left as soon as she was stable.
"So she'll survive?"
Her Dad hesitated.
"I don't know. I don't really understand this sort of muggle stuff. Magical people don't get stuff like that, you see. Our cells are strong enough to prevent it."
She nodded, still sniffling. He patted her head, his hand calming the 'filthy mane', as her mother had called it. It was more a cacophony of curls.
"What will happen then?"
"Chances are she'll stay in the coma. It's your mother's decision on what to do if she doesn't wake up. I'm sorry Kit."
She broke into another set of tears. It was all her fault. It was still her fault.
Albus held her, his hands hesitant on her back. Aidan and Rose watched from a distance.
She was crying again, her hands sticky from the weird spell she'd put on her sister.
It was still her fault.
It was still her fault that she was dead.
Everyone wore black. Her Dad bought her a dress, holding her hand as they walked in. She rarely saw him in a suit, but he stood there with a tie and everything, their hair both combed and done up nicely. Hers was in a bun.
She didn't want to look in the casket. Neither did he. They stood back, their hands never leaving each other's.
It's not your fault. Don't ever say that again. Your gran would have banned you from eating her cookies for thinking such nonsense.
Last night he'd found her in her room, sobbing, no Rebecca or gran in sight anymore. No one but him to hold her as she sobbed.
Just a month or so before the coma, Kasy remembered that dark day at her house. It was what she whispered to her Dad while everyone was eating, stuffing their faces to ignore the stabs in their hearts. She got no attention. Her mother dabbed her crocodile tears away.
"I want to be just like her." She whispered to her father. He looked down at the girl who clutched his hand, not even thirteen years old and wiser than anyone else in that room.
"You will be. I'll make sure of it."
That night she made a list of all the things her grandma had been.
Courageous. Thoughtful. Clever. Beautiful. Quiet. Independent. Strong-headed. Forgiving. Determined.
She vowed to be all of those things.
Hands twisted painfully, she pointed her wand at her heart and scrunched up her eyes.
'Control it. You are the magic. Don't let it be you. Control it. Control it Kasy. Please.'
It would be wrong to say she didn't.
FFFLLLAAASSSHHHBBBAAACCCKKK!!! Sorry that the word length isn't picking up. The fact with the whole magic thing is that Kasy wasn't in control of it when she was younger. Obviously 16-yr-old Kasy is. Review please :)
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