At that moment, Dumbledore lowered his wand and turned around to the two. He held out his elbow. "Now, Harry here has apparated before, but you, Adeline, have not."
She looked between the two. "Is that a bad thing?"
"On the contrary!" Dumbledore smiled a little. "There is a first time for everything. Just take my elbow—both of you—and hold on tight," he said, and they did.
Confused about how holding Dumbledore's arm would take them to the mansion below the lake, Addie did not have to wait long to find out, because suddenly everything around her turned blurry and incomprehensible. It felt like she was being forced through a tight space—but as soon as she felt it, she didn't, and her feet were back on solid ground; suddenly not on the dock anymore.
Harry, expecting the disorientation that came with apparating, held his ground, and caught Addie's elbow as she stumbled into him. Looking down to her, he saw her eyes widen—though not from apparating.
They were in the middle of a large room, with cracking, faded vintage wallpaper and ornate, deteriorating architecture. Addie's breath hitched as she looked around the familiar place that had been so buried in the back of her mind; in the memories she repressed. Though the Mansion looked completely different—exposed to the lake water for years now—it felt the same. It had the same eery silence, after all, and the same deep green lighting that wavered on the walls.
The lake water stayed outside the house, stopped by an invisible force—the work of Dumbledore's magic—and as Addie took a step forward, her back to the other two, the floor was damp, and her shoe crunched as it met a piece of glass.
Looking down, her eyes met a fallen chandelier—the same one that had hung so tall and proud on the ceiling all those years ago. At night, she used to sneak out of her room and admire it from the top of the staircase. It was like her version of the stars against the night sky as its alluring lights glowed against the dark roof.
Now it lay shattered on the floor. Lifeless and broken.
She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry. Something ached inside her as she eyed the debris surrounding the chandelier's skeleton. Behind her, Adeline heard more crunches of glass—it was all over the floor, she realised—as Dumbledore wandered into other rooms, as their intent of being down there in the first place was to look for any possible Horcruxes. But now, Addie felt like she couldn't move. And she didn't want to cry, because it felt like she was crying all the time, but her eyes became watery just seeing this place.
Harry's arm brushed against hers as he came to her side, and this simple touch of his sleeve against hers brought her a sense of comfort; knowing he was next to her, in reach—seemingly sensing the sadness that radiated from her. She moved her hand to his, entwining their fingers, and her skin warmed as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles absently. With his familiar palm against hers and the feeling of her heart locket on the skin beneath her sweater, she took a little breath and continued forward, blinking back the tears.
The rooms on the bottom floor were empty—not exactly surprising, as many things had floated out of the house by now—aside from the occasional decaying piece of heavy furniture. Dumbledore stayed downstairs, inspecting cabinets and places where things may be hidden, and Harry followed Addie upstairs, who had a gut-wrenching sense of déjà vu with every step she took: of the time she fell down the steps when she was young—the scrapes on her knee, the bruise on her chin—of the times she'd climb up them on all fours like any little kid would do, of the times she'd peer through the posts on the rail, trying to hear what that scary voice from the other room was telling her mother, using all these big words she didn't understand, of the time she ran up them for last time as water rushed down and crashed against her legs and she clung to the handrail desperately.
ch. 23 - the mansion
Start from the beginning
