CONFUNDUS; harry potter [UNDER EDITION]

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Even though he washed his hands, the sensation of blood under his fingernails keeps him tense. Venice continues cleaning the blood on his face with a wet cloth. Her movements are sharp and shaky. Venice isn't fond of blood or wounds. She never was. She never will. But Lucca doesn't complain when she scrubs too harshly or when her magic hits him like a bitter wind. He allows her to clean him because she needs it for herself. In a way, Lucca reckons, Venice thinks she failed as an older sister. But Lucca doesn't see failure in her. He sees it in her eyes, ready to burst in tears. He sees it in her hands, jittery and anxious, unstable to clean a wound.

"How did you find me?" He asks, finally finding his voice.

"Bubba," Venice replies. "He came over to Percy's place first. I wasn't there. Order meeting. But found Percy. He called me."

Lucca nods, his gaze wandering behind Venice. The door is sealed but the Silencing Charms are wearing off. Lucca can hear the discussion in the sitting room. Percy's place is a small apartment in the middle of wizarding York. It has two bedrooms, a kitchenette connected to a sitting room and a bathroom. Genevieve left minutes ago in order to calm down William from his nervous fit but from the raised voices Lucca wonders how much longer can they hold him out.

"I thought you were on the run."

"Technically, we're on the run," she says. "Percy's always been a paranoid. Didn't need to call the Order to install new security wards. Besides, they went after the Weasleys. So every affiliation with Potter is an instant target for Death Eaters."

Harry must feel terrible.

"I don't regret staying," Lucca says firmly. "He needs me."

Venice half shrugs. Lucca can't recall if she ever held a conversation with Harry or what does she think about him. She isn't pushy like Milan but she cares in a different way.

"It doesn't surprise me, if you're wondering," Venice mumbles idly. "After the incident in first year, I knew you're down bad for him, even if you couldn't recognize it. Milan thought it was another tantrum. Mum always spoiled you rotten. And Dad, even if he is thick in the head, cares about you."

"I know it's my fault we're all hurt."

They could have left sooner. They could have been happier. They didn't have a reason to stay, not really. Lucca was more stable by then, the curse wasn't lifted but it wasn't a threat.

"Don't be ridiculous," Venice brushes his curls off his face. "You needed to get better. You're sick. That shit Felicia did was fucking terrible. She blocked your mind. She could have killed you."

"She'd have lifted it any time."

"Could she?"

Now Lucca isn't sure. Traces of Felicia's magic linger in the back of his head. There are memories he won't remember, ever, and a part of him was taken away when he fought back. Years and years of innocence lost in time that left him with a ruined childhood and a rotten mind. Lucca doesn't only blame Felicia but if she hadn't attacked him, Lucca and his family wouldn't have left Argentina. They'd have been happier, safer. They'd been normal.

"Dad reckons it'd be the best for you to start a therapist treatment as soon as you get back to Argentina," she says after a long pause. Lucca bites the inside of his cheek. The nerve of that man. No treatment will heal him. He's broken. He's been broken for a long time. "He already spoke to Abuelita Nora."

"For Milan, I suppose, right?"

"And you," Venice says. "The Diggorys are coming back. Milan is with them."