MIri was in her room, sitting on her floor, surrounded by a bunch of old looking books. Mrs. Prewitt agreed to lend them to her saying she had no use for them for the time being. All the books were only about or had information about the Black family. She threw down the previous book she was reading, frustrated, because she could not find any information about her mum or dad. She found information about some of her second cousins who were in Azkaban like Bellatrix Lestrange who used to be a Black before she was married. She had taken some of Mr. Wetherford's newspapers, The Daily Prophet, and found some articles on Sirius Black but they all said the same things about him being dangerous and mad. Not one thing said anything about Violetta and Regulus Black. She knew the Internet would be no use because it only contained muggle information.
She had found some interesting and maybe helpful information, though. It was the address to the Black Manor. The official house of Black. The address: Number 12, Grimmauld Place. She knew that was not far from her house here. It was only an hour by train. She could easily get there, using the money she got from doing chores, so she could find her parents or any information on them. The thing was, she was scared. From what these books said, her family seemed to be obsessed in the Dark Arts and she was scared of what she would find in that house. She decided against it.
No. I will not go. I'm not going to some crack house in search of the people who left me here in the first place. She thought to herself. She got up from the ground, brushed off the dust that were carried in by the books, stepped over the books, and went to her dresser. On her dresser was the note. She scrunched up her face in disgust. If there was one thing she hated, it was being lied to and over a long period of time at that. She just couldn't believe her so-called parents had lied to her this whole time. They told her she was born in a hospital in Wales and that's why they didn't have any birth certificates. She believed them of course because why would they lie? Of course there was a reason why they lied, she thought now, because they didn't really know where she was born. When she asked why her middle name was Canis, they told her it was the Latin word for dog, which was (at the time) her mothers favorite animal. Miri always questioned that because from what she could remember, Mrs. Wetherford has always hated dogs of any sort.
***
"Mrs. Prewitt?" Miri asked, sitting once again on the same stool in the kitchen surround by, if it was possible, more pots and ingredients than last time.
"Hmm?" Mrs. Prewitt said not looking from her concoction in one of the many cauldrons.
"Here, this book, it has no name, it says most of the Black family was named after stars, why is that?" she questioned glancing up at Mrs. Prewitt who was sniffing intensely at the bubbling green goop.
"An old family tradition i presume. Now," she got a big spoon and started stirring the goop, "why the sudden interest in the Black family?" Miri's mouth went slightly dry. After finding out all of these things about her actual family, she didn't know if she wanted to tell people, quite yet. Miri shrugged, keeping her eyes at the book.
"Its because . . . i remember Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban and i was just curious, is all." Miri fibbed quickly. Mrs. Prewitt nodded and didn't ask anymore questions.
"Do you . . . do you think they are still living in their old house?" Miri questioned, trying to be nonchalant. Mrs. Prewitt opened a drawer and took out a few vials full of herbs and set them next to her cauldron.
"Oh i doubt it. Most of them are in Azkaban or in hiding." she said while waving her hands from the pot towards her so she could smell the aroma of the potion. Miri nodded glumly. She put a bookmark in place of the page and closed the old book.
"I should be going. My er mum would want me home." Miri said a bit uncomfortably. She hadn't been talking to her adoptive parents much except when she had to leave to come here or to town. Mrs. Prewitt nodded and waved her off.
"I'll see you tomorrow, dear." MIri said her good-bye then left. She walked briskly towards her house. Lilac was in the kitchen cleaning. When she saw Miri she smiled a bit but Miri ignored her and went up stairs. Once she shut her door to her room, she leaned on it for support and slide down keeping her knees bent. So many thoughts raced through her head. All her life she always had the knowledge that she belonged to a happy and peaceful family that never did anything remotely close to what the Blacks did. Now it feels as if someone plucked her up from her life and put her in an alternate universe where she actually belonged to a bunch of murderers and psychopaths.
This cannot be happening. She thought. She rubbed her eyes then burried her head in her hands. She tried to think about something else, anything else, but her mind stayed ripe on her family. Where was her father? Was he really dead? Where was her mother? What about the people who were disowned? Would she be disowned if she wasn't already? Would anyone still even be living in the old Black house?
***
A few weeks past of still no talking. Lilac and her husband had given up trying to get Miri to talk to them. Their son, Gabe, was still too young to know what was going on. Miri would usually sneak into the kitchen after the Wetherfords went to work or at night, when they were asleep, to get food. She didn't know what to think of their relationship anymore. Could she still refer to them as her parents? Would Gabe ever consider her a sister? Would she even stay with the Wetherfords long enough to find out? Yes. It's true. She had given the going-to-the-black-manor-to-find-out-about-her-psychotic-family some thought. Every time she thought of it, it seemed more reasonable to her. She had even gone far enough to buy a small brown bag to carry stuff in. She had no idea where all of this determination was coming from. Maybe from betrayal? Guilt? A gut-instinct? She hadn't a clue.
Staying locked away in her room was part of it though. She hated being stuck there but she was set on ignoring her, what she calls them now, roomates. She had also begun to hate the silence. Sure it was toleratable before but now, all she had to talk to was Mrs. Prewitt who was a little nutty to begin with and rarely talked about anything reasonable. She hadn't made any friends except a few aquantences who were muggles. Other than that, she was alone. And she hated it. What did she do all day? What could she do all day? She still had many of the old books from the courtesy of old Mrs. Prewitt and a stack of newspapers stashed under her bed. It's not like she had stayed in her room much before. She had loved being in their sun-room with occupied Lilac's jewlerey making station. She adored making beaded necklaces and string braceletts and fake stone and fake jem anklets. She would often sit in there with her mum making them then she would go to the local Antique and Boutique shops to see if the store owners would want to sell them.
After a few more days, she had taken enough solitude. She went straight to Mrs. Prewitts house to return the books and thank her. She had a quick lesson which she got out of early because she faked a headache. From there, she went straight home. She was about to sprint upstairs when she saw her mum. She made eye contact with her. Lilac looked at her with hope and guilt and . . . love? Did they really still love her? Miri gave a sorry look, then took of towards her room. From there she stuffed any clothes she thought she would need into that brown bag. She took one of the books that she hadn't given back to her teacher, and stuffed it into her bag. She changed her clothes from something she threw on in the morning to a longsleeve green shirt and skinny jeans that weren't too tight. She put on her brown converse with the different laces and a navy sweatshirt that said 'University of Cambridge' because Mr. Wetherford had gone there and had given her the sweatshirt. Her curly brown hair was braided to the side with pieces falling out so she didn't have to worry about it. She took a necklace that her mom had handmade for her and slung it around her neck then tucked it into her sweatshirt. She scribbled on a small piece of parchment her reason for leaving and that she would come back soon enough, knowing the Wetherfords would find it soon enough. She wasn't planning on leaving forever. She put her money in her wallet and put that in her bag as well.
Then she froze. Gabe. She needed to say goodbye to Gabe. He hadn't lied to her. So she hid her bag under her bed and cracked open her door. No one was in the hallway so she made her way over to little Gabe's room. He was sleeping now, it was his nap time. He always slept at three o'clock. She opened his door then shut it behind her. There he was, sleeping in his crib, looking content. She smiled at him, her grey eyes soft. She walked over to him and stroked his cheek. His honey blonde hair was was parted unevenly making him look cuter than before. If he was awake, then Miri would see his sky blue eyes. He made a cute little noise but stayed sleeping. She gave him a peck on the forehead and a small, nervous smile, before hurrying back to her room. She slung her bag over her sholder then made her way to the window.
Miri then checked her pocket and realized she forgot her wand. She saw it on her dresser so she made her way to it. When she grabbed it, she saw the note. She frowned. That note had haunted her since she got it. It was crumpled and yellowed of age but the words were still as clear as if it had been written days ago. She stared at it. She knew she should take it but was hesitent. After 30 seconds of staring at the parchment, she shoved it into her pocket and made her way back to the window. She lifted it up. It made grunting noises as if it didn't want to move but eventually it opened big enough so Miri could fit her 5'6 body through. She slid down the vines and landed onto the ground. Taking one glance back at her home, she got her bike, and peddled away.
Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the train station.