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"There's no shame in it." Arthur had reassured her, as she stood a still as a boulder, wearily facing the chain-linked fence that separated her from the house she had grown up in.
Edith Finch breathed a cool, crisp breath. The air from the swamp like bog ahead of her still smelled the same. Murky, stuffy, but oddly pleasing after the first few whiffs.
His hand left her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'll just be at the car if you need anything, Edith."
She wanted to thank him, Mr Weasley was such a kind man, much like his wife, but the air was doing enough to near close up her throat.
Edith swallowed, nodding to herself.
Arthur laced his hands behind his back, and turned on his heel, ambling towards the light blue Ford Anglia that he had parked only a few meters down the road.
Edith palmed the key around her neck, fingers tapping agaisnt the metal that had warmed from the contact of her skin, having been buried under a jacket and a scarf for the majority of the drive on the way here.
A jumble of nerves danced inside her chest, their footprints leaving marks on her ribcage, littering thoughts tied her stomach together, a feeling of uncomfort sweating her palms, a heat seeping through the knitted material of her worn, but well loved, gloves.
Edith released another breath... and another.
Finally finding an area within herself where she could will her legs to move, she started towards the rusting, chain-link fence, a portion of its mesh curved in the direction of the house ahead, telling Edith that she wasn't the first to have attempted a vault over the only fence guarding the silent property.
In a gentle grasp, the wand slid down from her sleeve, settling in her palm, fingers wrapped around the wood.
Edith pointed the wand towards the gate, a whisper of an incantation leaving her lips.
"Alohomora."
The gate clicked, a latch popping up above the keyhole.
Tucking her wand back within her sleeve, Edith reached a hand towards the knob of the gate, not flinching at the chill of the metal against her fingers. A glance at the large, bright yellow and black sign on eye-level beside her, told Edith that the information was incorrect, she knew the gate had never been powered, and so, had never been electrified.
The gate let out an almighty creak, wailing in protest as the hinges moved for quite possibly the first time in nearly eight years.
Edith slipped inside, squeezing herself between the gate and the post to do no more damage to the already suffering hinges behind her.
Looking ahead, there was nothing in her way now. The path to the house was clear, easy to walk down in mere minutes, and yet, Edith allowed herself to become lost inside the image that was stapled to the power line post that craned over her.
She strolled towards it, the words printed in ink already having been printed into her brain as she was growing up.
----
MISSING
If you have information about Milton
call the Orcas Island Police Dept.
0360 326 2313
----
The smiling, youthful face of Milton beamed back at her, the hastily painted, cardboard crown had always sat crooked on his head, something Lewis had attempted to fix many a time, but Milton had declined the fond correction, insisting that it suited him better that way.
Looking back now, Edith couldn't help but agree.
She turned away from the poster, the very top few floors of the house now visible above the treeline.
Edith took a step... and another.
The third one became difficult.
The fourth felt as constricting as the tightness in her throat.
The fifth faltered her posture.
The sixth swelled tears in her eyes.
The seventh made her stop.
Her forearm rubbed against her eyes, tensing her trembling chin with a hasty sniff.
The eighth felt like she was walking straight into a flood whirling around a hurricane, a dangerous situation she needed to escape from, immediately.
The ninth step left her boot hovering in a small space of air between the ground and the sky.
A lengthy pause settled over the teenager.
The tenth step was backwards, the eleventh doing the same.
Edith wrapped her arms around herself tightly, walking back down the short path she had wandered down. She could feel the eyes of her brother in his photo on the poster, staring at her as she passed. Edith tugged her scarf upwards from around her neck, her mouth disappearing into its deep yellow and grey folds.
Arthur had been leaning against the car, hands nervously laced together, a shoe tapping rhythmically on the asphalt.
At the sound of footsteps, he looked up, pushing away from the car as Edith approached him.
A sympathetic smile grew on his face, and the man held up an arm.
Edith walked into his embrace, his arms folding around her.
"I....I just.. I can't-" Edith tried to verbalise her thoughts, but it was just impossible.
Arthur shook his head, a hand petting the side of her beanie.
"You don't have to explain, Edie. You never have to explain." The man sighed in an understanding manner. "Remember, there's no shame in walking away. Absolutely none at all, I promise you."
Edith closed her eyes, holding the man tighter.
Today...just wasn't the day.
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In a strange way, the Burrow had always felt like home. The people inside the well-loved house were like fairy lights, bright sparks of gold that managed to get through to Edith on a bad day.
Molly and Arthur shone the brightest, having had no hesitation between them when Fred and George had came to them a little over a year ago, telling them that Edith Finch's mother, Dawn had been admitted into St Mungo's, leaving the girl without a place to stay.
Despite already being filled to the brim with children, Molly and Arthur bent over backwards to keep Edith with them, stretching out every one of Arthur's paychecks to provide for their children.
The two were there the night Edith said goodbye to her mother, and they were the ones who drove her home to the Burrow early the next morning, after she had passed.
Molly had sat with her for a few hours after she came home, a soft cloth against her cheeks every so often, drying the eventually, heartbreaking tears that came with losing a parent.
They were there for her when Edith couldn't be there for herself, and for that, she would be eternally in their debt.
She owed a lot to the rest of the Weasley clan as well, the family having accepted her the moment she stepped through the door. In an attempt to repay the family, Edith decided to keep a watchful eye on the rest of the siblings when they were at Hogwarts, having been involved with the misfit trio of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley for the last two years now.
She ran away from Mr Filch with the twins after a prank had exploded inside a corridor, rushing them around corners and hiding with them in broom closets.
She sat with Ginny in the Great Hall when she was homesick, telling her story after story for her 'marvellous' home and what silly things she remembered about her Grandpa Walter. Ginny came to Edith more after that.
She did try to keep an eye on Percy, but by all accounts, the boy didn't need it. Although, it didn't hurt to drape a blanket over his back when she found him asleep over another book.
She had met Bill and Charlie before, hanging onto Charlie's every word as he spoke of the Dragon reserve in Romania.
Bill and Edith had poured over a few curse breaking books he had managed to bring home for his siblings on his last trip, with the eldest happily answering whatever questions the girl had.
And finally, the trio.
Edith was there when Ron and Harry attempted to save Hermione from the troll in their first year, and ventured down into the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, Harry and Lockhart in their second year, taking great pleasure in knocking the floundering blammermouth out.
Truly, Edith had loathed Lockhart.
She talked with Harry on nights he couldn't sleep, meeting in the kitchens and making him a big mug of tea.
She helped Hermione study, keeping her company through the stress of end of year examinations.
She held Ron when his worry for his sister was at its height, guiding him through breaths as he sat, helpless in the cavern with a very unconscious Lockhart.
And Edith Finch tried to do her part to keep the people around her together.
The stable door swung open, a metallic twang sounding from where the two locks clashed momentarily. Edith wandered into the kitchen of the Burrow with Arthur not far behind.
Molly Weasley stood by the cooker, poking a knife inside the pot full of boiling water and potatoes, while a spoon stirred itself in another pan on the hob beside it.
Mrs Weasley blinked as her head moved towards the movement of the door, a surprised expression on her face as she saw the two inside the kitchen, with Arthur closing the door behind him.
"Oh! Arthur, Edith, dear! You're back much earlier than you said."
Edith slumped into a chair at the table, burrowing her chin into the folds of her arms. She sighed.
Arthur cleared his throat over the teen's shoulder and shook his head.
Mrs Weasley's shoulders deflated, coming to stand beside the girl's chair. And she spoke to Edith in a soft tone.
"Aw love..."
Edith brought her head up, a frown firm on her face, fingers tapping anxiously on the table top.
"It's just a house. That's all it is. Just a house."
Molly brushed back her fringe fondly. "It's so much more than just a house, Edie. It's a part of your life, your history, your family's history."
"Exactly, it's my history, so how come I can't just walk down the stupid path?"
Arthur kneeled by her other side. "You can't...rush fate, Edith. Don't beat yourself up about it, these things just take time."
"All things take time." Molly smiled warmly.
Edith seemed to settle the thoughts inside her head, another heavy sigh leaving her. Her head rested on Mrs Weasley's arm, her hand continuing the soothing motions of stroking her hair.
Mr Weasley flicked her cheek. "Chin up, Edie. We're off to The Leaky Cauldon tomorrow night, then it's off to Hogwarts."
Molly bristled with excitement, beaming at the girl. "Ooo! You and Percy must be so excited for your last year! Have you thought any more about what you'd like to do after school?"
Edith thought for a moment, palming the wand strapped to the underside of her forearm.
"Either something Quidditch-y.... or maybe Transfiguration related? I'm not too sure yet, honestly."
"Oh Arthur, could you imagine it! Our Edith, a beater for a professional Quidditch team!"
Arthur smiled through his wife's gushing, sending a reassuring look in the girl's direction. "Whatever you decide, we're with you, Edith. Always."
Without words, she thanked them with a long, warm hug. Her body nestled between the two people who had taken her into their home, and treated her as if she was their own, as if she had always been theirs.
Their Edith.
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To say Diagon Alley was busy would be an understatement. The winding street was flooded with late-shopper parents, children of various ages latching onto their guardian's hands or the backs of their cloaks.
The Weasleys were no different, with Molly setting across a very clear hand holding rule, specifically to make sure that neither Ginny nor Ron became lost in the busy crowds.
Edith gripped onto them both tightly, with George behind her as they shuffled their way towards the pub where they would stay the night before heading off to Hogwarts the next morning with the train.
The Weasley clan got inside, with Molly being the last to close the door behind her. The witch blew the hair out of her face, muttering under her breath about "Some parents just can't be prepared earlier!" as she went, passing her husband as he dropped the few trunks he held in his arms, heading towards the bar with his wife to check in with Tom, the bartender.
The kids found seats scattered around the table nearest the door, with Ginny pushing past Percy to grab a seat beside the Finch.
Percy had huffed to himself, continuing to plough himself towards the book in his hands.
Ginny smiled at the girl eagerly. "Edith, can you do a reading for me?"
Edith shrugged, reaching into her trouser pocket, the black deck slotting comfortably in her palms, she slid the cards out, speaking as she shuffled the cards.
"Sure. Is there something in particular you wanna focus on?"
Ginny gave it some thought, "Maybe a Past to Future reading? I'd like to know how this year goes."
Edith shifted from her place on the chair, turning to the girl who watched her with awe, cards flicking back and forth between her hands.
"Alright. A Past, Present and Future reading. Ginny, pick the three cards that call to you." Edith laid the sloped pile of cards onto the chipped, wooden table, crossing her arms and watching as Ginny studied the cards.
Fred watched over the girl's shoulder, grinning. "Careful there, Gin! Say something she doesn't like and all she has to do is wiggle... her... fingers....and BAM!" The ginger slammed his palm down beside his sister, who flinched.
Edith smiled in victory, not giving any reaction to the outburst.
"FRED!" Ginny wailed, rounding on him.
"Be calm, Ginny. The cards don't work with anger..." Edith soothed, a hand resting on the girl's arm.
Ginny nodded to herself, letting out a breath.
"Good. Now, pick your cards for me and lay them out. Fred, you and George will never get me, take a seat." Fred stuck his tongue out at her before sitting back down, ankles crossed under the table as he started up a conversation with his brother.
Ginny picked her cards slowly, taking time to feel each one, Edith appreciated that someone at least respected her hobby.
The three chosen cards were sat in front of her. Edith smiled, scooping up the remaining cards and placing them on top of the deck.
"First, your past. Remember, the cards don't speak actual events, all we can do is use a level of interpretation. Be open with them, and yourself." Edith reminded, her fingers brushing against the card's back for a moment.
Ginny nodded quickly, anxious to see her cards.
Edith flipped the 'Past' card over.
"Ah, the Page of Wands, upright too."
"What does it mean?" Ginny's eyes were shining with excitement.
Edith hummed in the back of her throat, a finger reaching out to trace the words etched in gold atop the card.
"Upright, the Page of Wands speaks of a youthful influence, full of excitement and passion for the world around them. Perhaps you've been wondering what's out there, what you can see, what you can do. You've had so many passionate ideas, but ideas are only imaginary right before they become actions. It's a signal for new ventures."
Edith moved to the next card.
"And for your present, it's... the Five of Cups, reversed."
"You sound surprised." Ginny noted.
"Only by the accuracy." Edith started, releasing a breath before going into her explanation.
"Reversed, the Five of Cups shows a recovery process, as well as acceptance of the past. The value of painful experiences are made clearer, and there's a fair choice with that line of thought. To forgive yourself and let the guilt rest, or to not."
"...the Chamber, with Tom.." Ginny began in a quiet tone, nearly drowned out by the chattering of the pub around them.
"Exactly what I thought of first." Edith sympathised. But she brightened, a warm smile on her face, hoping to bring the girl away from the painful reminder of last year.
"But let's see what your future has in store, hm?"
Edith flipped the card.
"The Star, upright. A good, steadfast message of hope. Keep the good things close to you, and life will bring you all that you need. The challenge has passed, and you walked through it with your hope held high. Now, looking back, you can be aware of the strength you proved you had during the hard times."
Ginny leaned back, staring at the cards through an ajar smile. "That's... that's incredible, Edith. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, I didn't pick your cards, you did. I simply explained their meaning."
"But it's so accurate... how are they so accurate? The reading you did for Harry, the morning he came to the Burrow for the first time, it mentioned everything he went through last year." Ginny marvelled to herself. "Are you sure the deck isn't enchanted at all?"
"My deck? Oh no." Edith laughed. "My great-grandma Edie was a squib, she couldn't have enchanted the cards. Besides, they've been used so much since then, enchantments on objects don't last forever."
"Are you sure it's not just a massive fluke?" Ron piped up, chin in his palm as he sat boredly, Scabbers nibbling on a cracker by his arm, leaving a pile of crumbs below him as he scoffed it down.
Ginny's face turned up. "No, Ronald. It's not a fluke." She spat the word, as if the very sound of it has insulted her. "How can you sit there, and watch that amazing miracle of cards being that accurate and then call it a fluke!?"
Ron recoiled at his sisters tone, waving a hand. "Alright, alright, keep your braids in, Merlin..."
Edith decided to step in. "Ron, I understand it's hard to believe, but Tarot is based on interpretation, you'll be surprised at how many cards could've fit Ginny's past, present and future, what's important is that Ginny chose these cards, and so, they connected to her with this reading." Edith explained.
Ron watched her blankly. "Still seems like they're enchanted to me."
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Hermione would agree with me!" Ron exclaimed.
Ginny wiggled her brows. "I'm sure you'd love for her to agree with you, Ron."
Ron's face burst into a red blush.
Edith stood, and held up the Lover's card, waving it over Ginny's shoulder at the boy.
"Stop it Edith! Hermione wouldn't-"
"I wouldn't what?"
Ron blanched, a squeal leaving his mouth as he turned, seeing Hermione standing in the doorway of the Leaky Cauldon, a fluffy, ginger cat in her arms.
Ginny immediately noticed the cat, rocketing out of her seat to coo over it.
Edith snickered, shuffling her cards and slotting them back in their foldable cover as Ron spluttered out a reply.
"Well- I... we were just... Edith was- ah, never mind. No, never mind, it- it doesn't matter."
Hermione narrowed her eyes with suspicion, but shook her head, turning her attention to Ginny and Edith, who were giving the feline in her arms a lot of pets.
"This is Crookshanks, my parents surprised me this year. They said I could pick out a pet to take to Hogwarts. The lady in the shop said he's been there for ages. You poor thing..." Crookshanks bumped his head into the girl's chin, she laughed.
"Hermione, he's gorgeous." Edith breathed.
"Did I hear my name?" George shot his head up, winking at the brunette. Edith rolled her eyes, flicking a hand in the direction of the glass of water beside him. A handful of water soared out, flying in the direction of the twin's face. Right before it hit, the water transformed into a few feathers.
George spluttered, a hand raising to wipe the wet feathers away from his mouth. He called over his shoulder at the girl.
"Nice try Edith! They're still a bit wet..."
Edith pouted. "For mercy's sake.."
Hermione's eyes were wide. "You did wandless Transfiguration magic!"
Edith brought up a gloved hand to rub the base of her neck. "I've been practicing a lot over the summer. I think Professor McGonagall is expecting some truly amazing magic in my Transfiguration N.E.W.T's. So I figured I might as well try to blow her away while I'm at it."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she took you on as a teacher's aid once the year is up." Hermione commented, her arms tightening around her new cat as the feline spotted Scabbers.
Edith barked a laugh. "Yeah, in my dreams."
Crookshanks and Scabbers meanwhile, were having a staring contest before Crookshanks hissed loudly. Scabbers squeaked, dropping the cracker racing backwards and into Ron's hands.
The ginger glared at his friend. "Why'd you have to get a cat!? He looks mean as anything! Keep him away from, Scabbers, I mean it!" Ron stood, holding the shaking Scabbers to his chest.
Crookshanks was relentless, his hissing now having turned into a clawed paw occasionally swiping in their direction.
"He's a CAT, Ronald. Cat chase mice, no amount of magic can change that!" Hermione shot back.
Edith bent down to Ginny's level, muttering in her ear. "I've got a feeling this is going to be a year long issue between the two."
"Agreed."
"Alright everybody! Oh hello Hermione, dear, so glad you could make it!" Mr and Mrs Weasley returned from the bar, a few sets of keys in their hands.
"We've got our room keys! Remember the rules, keys go to the eldest in each room. Hermione, Ginny, Edith, you're in room fourteen. Fred, George, you're in room fifteen, sorry George, dear but Fred is older so he gets the keys, Percy and Ron, room sixteen. Your father and I will be just beside you all in room seventeen if you need anything."
Mr Weasley clapped his hands as his wife handed out the keys to the oldest in each group, George having an almighty scowl on his face as Fred was handed the keys, a grin on his face clear as day.
"Right Weasley's and Co! Bags upstairs! Split into your groups! Let's go!" Arthur enthusiastically got his family moving, shuffling behind the twins as the group left the table, finding their rooms floor and splitting up.
Later that night, Edith sat at the desk in the corner of the room, ears only just picking up on the sounds of Ginny's sleep talking and Hermione's quiet snores.
The lamp beside her was dim, giving off just enough light to see the cards in her palms being shuffled over and over again. It was therapeutic.
She gazed out of the tall window to her left as she fiddled with the cards, the full moon gracing the sky.
Her hands stopped. Edith's eyes slowly moved back and forth between the silvery moon in the ink black sky, and the spread deck on the table.
To the moon...
...and then the deck.
Moon.
Deck.
Moon.
Deck.
Edith narrowed her eyes, reaching over to flick off the lamp. She shuffled the cards, closing her eyes as she reached out.
She felt each image, one after another, the gold lines on the card's engravings spreading around her brain like a spiders web, they led her around the cards, twisting a turning over and over again. Flashes of silver, then gold, then an obscure clash of both colours. The strings became tighter, her vision moved faster, cards flicking past her at a much faster speed.
She had been counting, one after another, rushing to keep up with her own head at an alarming rate of flashing images that she almost gave into the panic of the vision.
But then, the vision stopped, as did her counting, the numbers she had spoken under her breath eventually rolled to a stop.
"Seventy-five, seventy-six, seventy-seven...seventy...eight..."
The last card was in her hand, it burned her skin, she could feel the image on her palm, the card pressing so hard into her skin it felt like the gold picture was attempting to tattoo itself to her.
The back of the card was clear in her mind.
Edith opened her eyes, surprised to see a soft glow coming from her palm, the runes, constellations and spiralling star charts on the card's back also illuminated in a gentle silver.
Edith blinked.
Her hand had trembled for a moment as it left the desk, reaching towards the gleaming card in her other hand...
She turned it over.
"Are you sure it's not just a massive fluke?"
"No, Ronald. It's not a fluke."
"My deck? Oh no."
"Are you sure the deck isn't enchanted at all?"
"Here, Edith. These cards are for you."
"How can you sit there, and watch that amazing miracle of cards being that accurate and then call it a fluke!?"
"You gave her those silly cards Gran! She won't get anywhere in life if she believes all that mystical nonsense!"
"Ironic, coming from a witch."
"You stay out of this Lewis!"
"They'll show you their worth someday, my dear. Treat them well, and they will do the same to you. Keep them close, Edith, and whoever they bring into your life, too."
"My great-grandma Edie was a squib, she couldn't have enchanted the cards. Besides, they've been used so much since then, enchantments on objects don't last forever."
The Moon card stared back up at her, its upwards position sparking explanations in her head, bringing back those months at a time, back in the house, where she would study each card, and go into town whenever she could to find book after book about their meanings, pouring everything she had into the words behind the pictures.
Inside the the small room, the glow on the card dimmed, leaving Edith's palm cold, her world in darkness.
She looked towards the moon, and back to the card in her hand.
Edith Finch huffed out a laugh of disbelief, and held the card close to her chest, continuing to watch the full moon outside the tall, smudged window.
She didn't sleep much that night.
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