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✷ Chapter Nine , The Autopsy of Melinda Ackerman ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
SHE WAS DEAD.
Capella, bearing the weight of her painful past, returned from Bedelia's house to the somber news of Melinda Ackerman's demise. The woman responsible for her suffering was now cold and confined to a small metal box in the ground. The news brought a mix of closure and lingering emotions for Capella.
Staying in an inn before catching the train, Capella encountered her boyfriend during the journey. He offered her a box of tissues and some orange chocolates, a gesture of comfort during an exciting time. His presence provided a glimmer of solace amid the shadows of her past.
Bedelia's house, usually bustling with family activity on Yule and Epiphany, now stood mostly empty. The absence of Callum, her mother, and father left a void that resonated with the silence and serenity within. It was a quiet and peaceful place, though haunted by memories of what once was.
Bedelia's siblings, a troubled lot, seemed to have chosen paths leading to Azkaban. Capella couldn't help but note that Bedelia stood as the sole inheritor of the Parkinson Line. The burden of securing the family's legacy rested heavily on her shoulders.
Perhaps Bedelia's cousin could step into that role, Capella pondered. He appeared less prominent, married to the heiress of the Leaky Cauldron. In the midst of loss and transition, the dynamics of both Capella and Bedelia's lives were intricately woven, reflecting the complexities that often accompany familial legacies in the wizarding world.
In the quiet moments before school resumed, Bedelia and Capella found solace in a field of pansies. The vibrant colors surrounded them as they laid together, sharing dreams and secrets amid the blossoms.
"Oh, how I'd love to be buried in a field of pansies," Bedelia mumbled, her fingers delicately twirling a pansy in her hand. Capella, immersed in the beauty of the moment, continued reading poetry aloud.
"I've always wanted to be buried in a field of forget-me-nots. But Regulus and I want to be buried together. Unfortunately, my father always has his way, and I'll be separated from my love for eternity in the Lestrange Mausoleum," Capella uttered, her voice carrying a mixture of longing and resignation. With a heavy sigh, she stood up, breaking the tranquility of the field.
The two girls walked back to the Manor, their steps measured and deliberate. The winter's breeze played with strands of their hair, carrying with it the unspoken weight of their fates. Despite the beauty of the pansies, the reality of family expectations and tradition lingered, casting a shadow over the idyllic scene.
As they approached the grandeur of the Manor, the essence of winter enveloped them, and the girls faced the inevitable return to the complexities of their lives. The field of pansies, once a brief respite, now existed as a memory—a fleeting moment captured in the tapestry of their intertwined destinies.
