"Don't be afraid to give up the good
for the great."
•••• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••••
ambition is virtue.
•
SHE MISSED HOGWARTS so much it was like having a constant stomachache. She missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, her classes (though perhaps not McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in her four-poster bed in the dungeon dormitory, learning sign to talk to the merpeople, tripping down the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the Wizarding World (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks). She couldn't wait to go back and tryout for Chaser. She could wait to be on the team with Bella, Andy, Cissy and Lucius.
Merlin, she missed her friends. She missed their careless banters, pointless debates about the various theories they came up with in the middle of the night. She missed Andromeda and Lucius marching in with piles of pudding they nicked from the kitchen, in the middle of the night. She missed Lucius and his confident beauty and brilliant brains. She missed Bellatrix, her glossy hair and translucent blue eyes. . . She was sure now that she was over Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix was the problem now. But mostly, she missed her friends because they genuinely liked her. She wasn't so sure about her parents.
Ever since Meredith stepped into her house again, she noticed that her parents were attempting to make amends for treating her poorly in the past year. Although they weren't pro-strecromancy at all, they seemed to be coming around to accepting her being a Slytherin. Her father even asked her if she was fond of the color green and wanted to paint her room. She had said that she was fond of the brown hues of her room.
After a year of separation, reconciliation seemed strange. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to go to the park with her father and James. Or eat the Sunday waffles with honey made by her mother. She had forgotten it all. She partly believed the reason why they were accepting her being a Slytherin was because of the small trophy she put in her bedroom. All the students who had a significant part in winning the House Cup were given a trophy of valour. Alakay had been given one because of his class performance and first rank. Severus had been given one for excellent Potion making skills — he had participated in a preliminary inter-house Golden Cauldron competition and won. Narcissa had been given one for the Best Debut as a Chaser. Meredith had been given one for her excellence in Duelling Club.
She had joined the club the second the entry forms came out for two reasons — One, she needed to know how to defend herself. If anyone apart from those she trusted found out about her Strecromancy, there was a seventy-three percent chance they were likely to throw a nasty curse her way. Two, she needed to know how to use and master magic without her inherent strecromancy. As much as she loved the power now, she didn't want to be at the mercy of it. There was no guarantee — thanks to the lack of literature on it — that the power would stay forever. It could fade. And Meredith wanted a backup. So she had joined the Duelling Club and she had been the best candidate at the end of the year, mastering spells, jinxes and hexes from third and fourth year level. Professor Heavensbee, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been so impressed that he asked her if she wanted to move further to the higher forms of Duelling. That gave her a trophy. And maybe her parents realized that coming third in class and winning a trophy of valour actually made her as normal as it could get and she ultimately deserved appreciation and love too.
It wasn't until the end of July, when she had returned from the park next to Church Lane, that her mother told she had a letter for her delivered by a barn owl.
"It's from the Firegold boy," her mother said as she slid the letter across the sitting room table. Meredith immediately stiffened.
"Did you read it?" she asked. She tried to keep the venom out of her voice - her mother was trying hard to make things right, things that were beyond repair for all she knew, but she felt bad for her anyway — but she couldn't. Euphemia Potter shook her head immediately.
"He signed his name at the back," she said.
It wasn't the first letter she received. Narcissa wrote to her almost everyday, narrating about her vacation in Greece. Meredith felt bad about the owl having to fly to and fro from Greece. Lucius wrote occasionally although he was a very animated person and it seemed like he wanted to keep the best stories for when they meet. Severus wrote the least and Meredith was sure it was because of his father and his dislike for all things magic. Alakay never wrote. This was a first.
She took the letter and made to move to her room, where she could read it in the privacy of her four brown walls. James sneered at her before she could go. She blinked.
"Why are you making that face?" she asked.
"What's secretive about that letter? Why can't you read it here?"
"I never read my letters here," Meredith replied. "And as far as I can recall, you don't read your letters here too."
"Yes, but I'm a Gryffindor," he said. "I have nothing to hide."
"And I'm a Slytherin," Meredith tried tersely. "I have nothing to hide either."
Euphemia, having sensed the tension between her two children, stood up. "Meredith, why don't you just read it here and be done with it. You know James —"
Meredith gritted her teeth. The sexism was appalling. She didn't want to blame her parents but she did. Apparently, it was easier to ask the girl to purse her lips and do nothing than to teach the boy some manners about privacy and individuality. But she was in no mood to have a fight. So she ripped the letter open and read.
It was short.
Meredith,
I was at Lucius's house last evening
and the Malfoys are hosting a
gathering. Sort of like a party. Lucius
begged me to come because there
would be old, boring businessmen,
and I really don't want to be there
alone with that blond prick. I asked
Severus too, as I would now ask you
to come with me. Narcissa, Bellatrix, Andromeda would be there too. Sirius
and Regulus would come too. It would be
a good time to meet Regulus as well.
Avery and Nott might come too.
Abraxas Malfoy is still expecting to
meet you. It won't be boring with us
all there.
Write to me if you're coming.
Hope your summer is going alright.
Love,
Alakay.
"He's inviting me to a party at the Malfoys," she said quietly. As much as she hated asking for permission, she was still twelve and she needed it. Her mother went rigid.
"Malfoys?"
The rumors surrounding the Malfoys weren't a secret. Abraxas Malfoy hardly hid it. He was a muggle hater. He called muggleborns mudbloods and he did so proudly. His sources of income to feed his excessively large vault weren't all white. And, although there weren't any proofs, it was well within anyone's intellect to know that he and his son were safe from the eyes of the law because of the handsome amounts of money he paid to the the Minister and Wizengamot.
"I know what you think of them," Meredith began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "But Lucius is a good person. He was my first friend in Hogwarts — he took me to sit with him in the compartment." It seemed strange talking about her school life to her mother. Whilst Euphemia Potter knew everything about James already, she knew nothing about Meredith. Maybe she would have if she had spoken to her daughter during Christmas. But she didn't. So Meredith had to explain the whole deal with Lucius in a very short summary. "He helped me study. He gave me his notes —"
"And his clothes," James added. Meredith rolled her eyes.
"My clothes weren't dry and he wasn't letting me wear my uniform on a Sunday. He said it was tactless for a Slytherin to dress like they didn't have clothes."
She noticed how this information didn't ease her mother at all. Sharing clothes was a simple yet very intimate thing. To anyone who wasn't Meredith or Lucius, it would seem as if they were involved in some way. But it was brotherly concern from Lucius and Meredith didn't mind it.
"Of course. Wearing your boyfriend's clothes is a feasible answer but aren't you too young to be acting like a slag, sister?"
Meredith's mouth parted. Euphemia immediately gasped and said, "That's no way to talk, young man!"
The young man card had been pulled and James seemed to realize he had accused his sister of being a whore. He went red and stumbled over his words a few times before saying, "I didn't mean it like that —"
"Use that word often, brother?" Meredith asked calmly, but the undertones of an outburst was there. Euphemia looked wildly between her children. "What other ways can you mean that word?"
"I'm sorry!" James said. "Okay?"
"Not okay," Meredith replied. She placed the letter on the table because her fists were balling up and she didn't want to crinkle the letter. These were memories and she kept all the letters in a little jeweled box under her bed. "Lucius is like my brother."
She enjoyed the array of emotions that went through James's face. As willing as her parents were to accept her back into the family, James was being just as difficult. He was stubborn, probably more than Meredith, and he was a prejudiced Gryffindor. Meredith understood it. The competition was important in school, as much as they were likely to laugh at it after school ended. But James was being difficult anyway. And it wasn't from competition. For some reason, he seemed to have hated her. And she missed James. After Lucius had shown that sort of compassion, she felt that she didn't miss James. She just missed having a brother. So she had promptly given that place to Lucius Malfoy. And James seemed to have realized now that he didn't hold the same importance in her life anymore.
He stood white and ashen for a moment before huffing. "I am your brother—"
"Then act like one."
The tension in the room could cut an iron board straight. James looked a little stunned for a second. Meredith didn't back down. Euphemia was trying to figure out who to scold. It took Meredith her all to not slam James down with her magic.
Meredith was twelve but she wasn't stupid. She had been discreetly practicing her Strecromancy and she hadn't let anyone in her house know. As much as she didn't understand what made her parents give her another chance, she wasn't willing to blow it either. She needed their protection until she turned seventeen. She needed their money, shelter and food. Then, she'd be off. She didn't much care if the Potters left her anything — she'd be capable enough to have her own vault in Gringotts. But for now, she needed them. And honestly, getting ignored kind of drove her crazy.
"I'm sorry."
Meredith had to double-take. Did James Potter just apologize? It was easier to make Severus tap dance than to get James to apologise. But he did. And Meredith looked for some insincerity. There wasn't any. She blinked. Even her mother seemed taken aback.
"Pardon?"
"Please don't make me say it again," James said. By the looks of his face it was clear that he was awkward. He glanced at their mother quickly before grabbing Meredith's hand and dragging her towards the backyard.
The porch had a small windchime over it that ringed from the wind. It was made of crystals and seashells, and Meredith swore that it was charmed to give the serenity of a beach too. James sat on the wooden patio after leaving Meredith's hand. The dry summer made the grasses parched and dry. Cicadas were chirping from amidst them. Meredith looked at James for a second before sitting down at a distance.
"What?"
"Do you remember we used to play Aurors and Snatchers here?"
"Are we taking a trip down the memory lane? Because I'm not interested."
"Do you remember or no?"
Meredith pursed her lips. She wondered what was the mamong of all this. The summer was scorching but it came with a sense of familiarity. This was the kind of summer she used to utilize to run around the town with James. They would wait for this small muggle ice cream truck and get orange popsicles. They would go to the park by the Church Lane and build sand castles in the makeshift sandbath. When they muggles weren't in the vicinity, they would fly around on their broomstick and play a dual version of Quidditch. James won a lot. Meredith won sometimes.
"Of course I remember," she said looking away from him and into a small patch of bushes. There were toadstools growing and she was sure she could spot of a pixie or two. She had to let her father know and get rid of them before the muggles saw it and freaked out. "I have an excellent —"
"— memory, I know." James sighed deeply and suddenly he looked older than she knew him. James Potter was average when it came to education and that was understandable. He never really cared for a career in the academic field. He wanted to play Quidditch. He supported the Chudley Canons and he always, since childhood, said he wanted to play with them. "I miss those days."
Meredith gazed back at him long and hard. "Do you?"
James looked at her. He had honey colored eyes and Meredith wondered how he would look if he had any other color in his irises. Meredith herself looked soft and approachable with her hazel eyes. But when they turned golden, she looked unearthly. When they were blue, she looked dangerous. And when they turned red, she looked deranged. "Mum and dad don't know that you use your powers in school."
"Is that what it's about?" Meredith knew her eyes were golden now. He had leverage against her. Whatever bridges she mended with her parents would collapse if James dropped this bomb over a Thursday dinner. "You're blackmailing me!"
"I'm not blackmailing you, Merlin," James said exasperatedly. "I care about you, Mer."
Care. The word had lost all meaning in her life when it came from anyone who wasn't a Slytherin. She scoffed.
"I mean it," James continued. "I'm not going to rat you out. But I do care about you — We have a live outside of Godric's Hollow now."
"In Hogwarts," she said. "I know. I've grown to like it more, as a matter of fact."
"I know that." James was sounding wary now. "I see you with your group all the time."
"Keeping an eye on the sick sister now, are we?" Meredith laughed bitterly. "Afraid I might blow up one day?"
"Yes."
It hurt. Meredith knew her powers weren't ordinary. And Meredith didn't really care anymore what her family thought of her magic. But for James to actually expect for her to go berserk made her feel the hole in her heart that she had covered up with sweet memories from the Slytherin Common Room.
"I don't know much about it," James continued. "No one does. But — I don't want to think what could happen if this git out. . . You know how they executed them before right?"
"I'm aware," Meredith replied crisply.
"I don't want that to happen to you."
Meredith stayed quiet.
"You're my sister," James said again, sounding more eager. "What happened to us?"
"You should know that, shouldn't you?" Meredith eyed him. "You're the one who disowned me in the Entrance Hall."
"I panicked," James said. "I had — I dreamed of the day we would be in Gryffindor together — I wanted us to go to the Tower and say those stupid passwords the Fat Lady set for us — sit in the red and gold of the warm fireplace and go to classes together and play Quidditch together — then you got sorted into Gryffindor. And I was alone there."
"You had Sirius. You had Remus and Peter. You had your family," Meredith said. "I was the first Slytherin in the history of Potters. Did you ever sit back and think how alone I was?"
James was quiet now, his eyes calculating the damage.
"If I hadn't befriended Lucius and Alakay and Narcissa in the train, I probably would've been bullied in my own house along with what the Ravenclaws kept doing. Mum and dad never wrote to me. James, I got socks for Christmas!"
She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. When they came back for Summer break, her parents had taken her to Diagon Alley and got her whatever she wanted to make up for the lousy Chris. But she was wary. She didn't know if it was a trick, an exam, a mockery. She had settled for an ice cream then. But now,as she voiced these things out, she felt her nose itch and her eyes burn. She blinked furiously.
"I was alone. You had a legacy in your tower while I was freezing in my dungeons!"
James pursed his lips. "I am sorry."
"Well." Meredith stood up and dusted her trousers laughing bitterly. "The damage is done now James. I'm doing fine on my own, you don't have to try and come back into my life —"
"I never left! I'm still your brother!" James stood up and shoved her lightly. She was expecting it. He always got defensive when they fought. Even if she stumbled a little, the familiarity rushed to her. She tried her best to push it down.
"You left me!" she roared. And then the tears fell. "You left me! I'm your twin sister and you left me!"
James made this jerk and came closer to her. He raised his hand and made to touch her shoulder. She slapped his hand away. Her sight was hazy from tears. "You don't get to comfort me anymore!"
"Meredith—"
"Stop! Stop trying to be nice to me —"
"I am sorry!"
"I know you're sorry, god damn it—" She was pacing around now, her feet moving by themselves.
"I know you know—"
"Stop — I am fine on my own — I made friends — I fly with people who aren't you — I eat before you now — I don't wake up thinking about playing with you — or think of you at all — I have a life — I made it myself— so you," she snarled, jabbing a finger into his shoulder, making him wince loudly. "Do not get to walk back in and say sorry and expect the last year didn't happen — of first year in Hogwarts for fuck's sake — we dreamed every day of coming to Hogwarts — screw you —"
James grabbed her face harshly and stilled her. She wriggled for a moment, but even if they were born together, he was always the athlete. He was stronger than her. She considered using her magic and burning him to splinters. Maybe that could make her feel better.
"That's three bad words in less than two minutes Meredith," he said after a moment, his thumb brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "I'm proud of you."
Meredith would've slapped him but this was the first proper — affectionate — physical contact she had with her brother since she got sorted into Slytherin. Her body convulsed strangely and with disgust, she realized she was still crying.
"You were my only friend, James," she choked out. "The only one I knew —"
He hugged her. They were nearly the same height, James growing faster than she was. But she felt engulfed. He smelled disgusting, like a boy who just spent his entire morning in the sunkissed playground playing and sweating, which is exactly what he did. But he was James. And James was her brother. And James was hugging her again — maybe there was some little splinter left of the bridge — maybe it's not all broken —
No! You cannot apologize to me. You cannot come back into my life —
She didn't mean for him to not come back. She was afraid of her morals and subservience that would come back with him. She wanted to use her magic, the same magic he still called sickness, and she wanted to use it without his judgy eyes making her walk on eggshells and feel guilty. She liked her snake's lair. She was one of them now. And as emotional as Slytherins were, emotions were never a ground to discard ambition over.
But he was there, hugging her, making her feel safe. She didn't know what to do.
She felt like she would explode.
She cried some more.
James didn't let go.
•