You Think You Know me

Last chapter

Hey! I havent really found any motivation to write any more of this story, so it's getting abandoned. If you want to continue this story, feel free, just please credit me :D

Thanks,

Jinx

The next small step in his plan was simple; Edison.

The boy was eerily quiet, staying in his room, and Kace supposed he was mourning, but he could honestly care less. He had to check a few things anyway.

A few days before he was due to go home, Kace began walking down the hallway, past Evie's room, and towards a door that was a deep red mahogany. The handle sparkled, though it looked slightly sticky, as if someone put jam on it.

Steeling his nerves and gaining every drop of patience he had, Kace raised his hand and knocked on the door. Waiting a few seconds, Kace heard some shuffling and Edison opened the door, clad in pyjamas. When he saw Kace, his eyes brightened, and he smiled slightly.

Kace mirrored the expression, and tried to make it as believable as possible.

"Kac-Harry!" the boy said, all sad expressions gone. He stared in shock at his brother, who willingly came over to his room. "What can I help you with?"

Kace smiled what he hoped was serenely. He had terrible people skills, and he was horrifying with smiles, something that would forever bother his father. Kace just hoped he didn't look like he was being held at wand-point.

"I came over here to see how you were holding up after- you know." He said, voice sounding sincere.

Edison started in utter shock. Harry had never once said anything kind to him, and now here he was, asking him how he was doing! Sure, he should have been suspicious, but Harry was his brother, who would harm their own blood?

"W-Would you like to come in?" Edison asked in a smaller voice than usual, sounding shy and vulnerable. Kace nodded, and the younger boy beckoned him in, standing aside.

The room was decorated much like the rest of the house; bright crimson and gold, but Edison's room had hints of white, and more delicate patterns. It was marginally more bearable than the rest of the rooms that Kace had seen.

Edison stood awkwardly, hands in his pockets. He had an excited smile on his face, and he waited patiently for Harry to stop admiring his room.

"So-" Started the older teen, red eyes turning onto Edison, who resisted a shiver. Those eyes scared him. Harry smirked, as if he heard Edison's thoughts. "How have you been?" The teen seemed unsure what to say, but his eyes never left Edison's face.

"Well, I-I guess I've been better." Edison started uncertainty, trying to gage the now-emotionless mask on his brother's face.

Kace nodded to continue, and Edison slumped down on his bed. It was as if a dam had been released, and he couldn't stop anything coming out of his mouth. Edison was kind of shocked at himself, but more at Harry, who listened to everything and appeared present throughout his rant.

Once he was done, Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and then asked; "What do you truly think of Dumbledore?"

The question was so random it sent Edison reeling, confused. For the second time that night, Edison felt as if his mouth and brain were their own separate entities, speaking for their own without any filter whatsoever. Obviously, Edison adored Dumbleodre. Who wouldn't? He was kind, powerful, and helped everyone the best way he could. He had known Dumbledore since he could remember, and had no bad memories of the man.