A/N: Written for the "I hate you" competition by ephemereis and for the Family Boot Camp Challenge with the prompts hide and injustice.
)O(
When Arthur Weasley decided to take his wife out to the theatre on the spur of the moment after months of spending their evenings quietly at the Burrow, their children were left in the care of Great-Auntie Muriel. She was glad of the company, and thanked Molly lukewarmly.
"I haven't seen these tykes for weeks, they've grown so much! It's not fair for you to have them all to yourself. You should have more of these days off, you look tired."
"Thank you for taking care of them. You're right, I am tired, but Arthur's been such a dear that I can't bear to tell him so. Look how excited he is," Molly peered out of the window of her aunt's house and waved at her husband who was standing on the pavement, his dress robes glowing faintly from a safety spell.
"He looks like a lovesick puppy." Even though Muriel had a soft spot for his kids, she disapproved of the low standing of Arthur's job. "Hasn't changed one bit since the two of you got married. He ages well, as do you, my dear. You get that from me," she patted Molly on her arm, "I always had men falling all over me, still do."
"They only fall over you because you trip them," Molly muttered under her breath.
"What's that? My hearing isn't as good as it used to be; speak up girl! I can't be having with people who are too lazy to raise their voice a little."
"It was nothing, auntie. Just talking to myself."
Muriel harrumphed. To her, talking to oneself was the first sign of insanity, although past experiences with Molly had led her to believe that her niece was further gone than that. How could she let her children live in that disgusting, dilapidated house when they could be living with their favourite aunt?
"I have to go now, have fun with the kids!"
"Don't tell me what to do. Just go before your husband makes more of a fool of himself, he looks like a jack-o-lantern who's been left outside for too long."
Molly bit her tongue to stop herself from retaliating. Life with her aunt was easier if you kept silent, and she really needed someone to take care of the children. Everyone else she knew who could take care of them was out having fun this Saturday night. Anyway, it would be good for Fred and George to be disciplined every once in a while. Muriel might like kids, but there was no way the twins would not cause some kind of trouble. Auntie Muriel believed in tough love.
"Will you be alright with everything, Auntie? I left the address of the theatre on the counter-"
"Just go already! Give your husband hell and show him that we Prewetts know how to have a good time."
"Oh-alright then!" she gave her aunt a quick peck on the cheek and hurried out the door. Everything would be alright. Nothing could happen to her kids with her iron aunt looking over them, surely?
As Arthur opened the car door for Molly with a fancy flourish of his arm, all her indecision was swept aside. This was supposed to be a night when she could forget the last fourteen years of her life and go out on a date again, a night when and could feel footloose and fancy-free.
"Ready darling?" Mr Weasley turned the key and a steady hum sprang up in the car.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Mrs Weasley twinkled back. "Now get us out of here before the children realise we've gone," and with that, the car accelerated and drove out of sight of the watchful Auntie Muriel. She shoved the curtains back in place and proceeded to the informal living room, where shrieking was to be heard coming from several places. The sounds were intermingled, but she thought she heard some coming from the couch, the carpet and the ceiling. A glance upwards told Muriel that the ceiling was in no danger; it was just the cat hanging onto the lamp out of fear for its life, as per usual.
Even though the entire band of Weasleys had been deposited in this room with no exit except the one she had come from, there was not a red hair in sight. Faint giggles were coming from behind the furniture. Muriel took a deep breath and smiled indulgently.
"Children! Listen to me, as I will only say this once. We can have fun and play games and read or," she glared into the corners of the room and at the couch, "we can all have a bath and go to bed now. It's your choice. Anyone who doesn't respond, well, I'll just assume that they're feeling tired and want to go to sleep."
The first to betray her siblings was Ginny. She crawled out from under the carpet, where her form had been clearly visible, and rolled over to her great-aunt. As a three year-old she avoided walking whenever possible; she seemed to find tumbling and tossing herself to a desired destination much more comfortable. When she was younger, she had heard George complaining that all the famous wizards never used their feet, but flew or apparated everywhere. Somehow, that had twisted itself in her toddler brain and stuck there until common sense would drive it out.
When all the children had shuffled out of their respective and incredibly clever hiding places, Muriel surveyed them with a steady eye. She stared them into silence, then, when she felt she had their full attention, her face split into a wide grin. The tension in the room dispersed and Ron, Ginny, Fred and George visibly relaxed. Their Auntie Muriel was alright, really.
"Today, we shall be playing hide-and-seek. I trust you all remember the rules of the game, and mind you stick to them! Ginny, since you were so brave as to show yourself first, you can start."
Ginny obliged and began counting to a hundred. A normal person would have taken an unnecessarily long amount of time over this, but your average toddler is apt to skip a few numbers, so that balanced itself out.
"Ready or not, here I come!"
In his hiding place, George could hear his sister's slow ascent up the stairs. She was never going to find him, however hard she looked, he was sure of it. This dusty old dresser was too far away to be interesting enough to justify the long walk; he had only found it because Fred, in an oddly competitive spirit, had shoved him out from under the bed where he was already hiding. The door was heavy wood and far too difficult to open for a little girl. He, with all the muscles in his six year-old body, had barely managed it.
George knew that he was going to win this round, so he decided he might as well get comfortable while he was waiting for everyone to find him. In the dark, he felt around the bottom of the dresser, and found, to his surprise, that there was something on it. Something wrapped in foil. Now, if only he could get it out to see what it was...
His fingers fumbled at the wrapping. He couldn't manage to get a good grip on the foil, so George grabbed the long package and pulled at both ends as hard as he could. He had an inkling it might be clothing, but who would keep clothes somewhere where they couldn't easily get at them? His mum seemed to always be telling him to put his socks in the sock drawer as soon as he got them, or they'd be lost and eaten by the gnomes. Maybe his aunt was a rebel too.
With a harsh 'RIPRR!', George felt the packaging give way and split open. He fell against the door and toppled out, landing on his back with a giant white puff of material spilling itself onto his chest. The wrapping gone and the light of day upon him, George could now see clearly what had been inside that mysterious package. A huge white dress was lying on the floor in a guest room of his Aunt Muriel's house and he had no idea what to do about it. To be frank, in that moment he was more worried about losing the game of hide-and-seek now that his hiding place had become glaringly obvious.
He heard heavy footsteps approaching and panicked. The white dress was showing no sign of moving itself pack into the torn packaging and he had a horrible feeling it was important.
"There you are Georgie," his aunt appeared at the door and gave him a passing glance. "I've found him Ginny!" she stuck her head out of the door before her brain had time to process fully what she'd seen. Coming to her senses, she slowly swivelled her head back to face George and stood there with her mouth half-open.
"What. Is. This." Muriel said as if she had found an elephant cowering in the room. George squeaked; he had never seen his aunt looking this serious, and it scared him. Following his instincts, he disentangled himself from the dress and ran behind the dresser.
Aunt Muriel let out an almighty roar and chased after him. As she neared the opposite side of the dresser George ran out from behind it and streaked to the door.
"George! Come back here and explain yourself!" The terrified little boy was now running blindly through the halls of an unfamiliar house, trying desperately to find a place to hide from the wrath of his aunt.
"George Fabian Weasley! You come back here right now or I will personally make sure that you never go to sleep late until you reach forty!"
George dashed into a room, slammed the door behind him and leaned on it, breathing heavily from his exertions.
"George? I told you not to come in here, this is my hiding place," Fred's head popped out from under the bed as he reprimanded his brother, "you'll get me found!"
"I think I've done something terrible, Auntie's mad at me."
"You're imagining it, she likes you. As long as you're here, get under the bed, just in case Ginny comes in and finds us," Fred beckoned to his brother, who started to make his way to the bed, when-
The door was flung open by their warrior aunt. "George! Go to your room before you cause any more trouble. I'll talk to you later," she glowered. Once again, George appeared to be petrified. Seeing that his brother was helpless, Fred stepped in front of him with his arms crossed.
"No."
"Get out of here Fred darling, this is between George and I," Muriel appeared to be impatient with the other twin's defensive behaviour. She tapped her foot, "the longer you hide the worse the consequences will be."
"He's not coming with you," said Fred stubbornly.
"We'll see about that. Hop along Fred, there's a good boy, I'll not let you eat supper if you don't move."
"I won't let you hurt him."
Muriel scoffed. Children are so overly dramatic. "I won't let myself hurt him either. He just needs to be reminded that a little discipline is good for a body. No-one ever died from missing a meal or having a timeout."
Even though his aunt was acting sweetly once again, Fred refused to be fooled by her behaviour. His six year-old brain sensed that his brother was the victim here, and that he desperately needed help. Auntie Muriel was losing her patience. She took out her wand and aimed it at Fred.
"You know what? I don't need you to move. If you're so attached to your brother you can take the punishment with him. After all, misery loves company."
"I hate you."
"Doesn't everyone?" she flicked her wand and ropes suddenly appeared out of thin air. They floated over to the twins and bound them together, then rose again and drifted into the hall, carrying the boys with them in the air. Muriel walked after them, guiding the ropes to hover into Fred and George's temporary room.
"You can stay here 'till you're ready to apologise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take care of your siblings. Ron's probably still hiding somewhere, bless him."
As soon as she closed the door behind her, Muriel collapsed to the floor. They had seen it! That meddling little good-for-nothing son of Arthur Weasley had found out about her greatest secret. She had to find a way to make sure that he would never breathe a word of it to anybody important, but first, she needed to put away that incriminating dress. Muriel straightened herself up and brushed away any rogue dust. She was going to do this right.
When she got back to the room with the dress in it, a wave of memories hit her. That dress...
)O(
She was standing expectantly in the preparation room, too excited to sit. This was the day when everything would come together and she would finally have full assurance from Byron that he loved her. Of course, he had told her so before, but this was going to prove it. Once he had married her, there was no backing out.
She paced the length of the room, smiling as she remembered his face. Lovely, handsome, fickle Byron. To tell the truth, he had not been totally faithful or trustworthy in the past, but since his emotional confession a few weeks ago she knew that he'd changed.
Their wedding was supposed to be in a half hour, and he hadn't arrived yet. That was fine; there was still plenty of time. It was nothing to be worried about, so why was she worrying? "Stop it Muriel, of course he'll come, he's got to come, he promised. He's just been...delayed. There's probably a lot of floo traffic at this time of day. Or something," she smiled bravely and tried to convince herself yet again, "he's got no choice but to come. He knows he'll get disowned otherwise."
Ten minutes later, then fifteen minutes later, then twenty minutes later nothing had changed, except that Muriel's state of paranoid panic had gotten worse. She peeked out of the room she was in. Before, when she was still smiling and happy, she had told everyone not to disturb her before the time came. She wanted to have some time alone to think about how happy she was going to be with Byron.
Now that she could hear the sounds of people congregating in the church outside her room, her spirit lifted. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? There was no way she could know when he arrived, that would only come when it was time to walk down the aisle. She would be there, escorted by her father, looking pretty for once, and her would be looking back at her devotedly. He loved her and she loved him, it was that simple.
"But...you would know if he was coming", she thought, "remember that time at your cousin Felicity's wedding, when you were all sitting with her and that messenger came in to tell you? And that time when you were a flower girl at your Aunt June's? It's standard procedure to inform the bride when the groom arrives, so she can be prepared for when it's time to start the ceremony," at the back of her mind, a treacherous voice added, " It's also because there's an unspoken worry in everyone involved that he will never show up, so the information that he's definitely going through with it is reassuring."
With five minutes to go and no messenger knocking on her door, Muriel's antsy-ness was getting so strong that she considered going outside and looking for him through the official chimney. She squashed this thought with a shake of her head and returned to worrying, the only thing she could do. The amount of helplessness she was feeling depressed the smile right off her face.
)O(
He had never shown up. The time of the wedding had come and gone, as had the unsatisfied guests. They had been apologetic, pitying, saying, "look at that poor girl, how could anyone ever want her?" when they thought she couldn't hear. And who could blame them? Her hair was a mess, her face was blotched and her eyes were bloodshot. On top of all this, the beautiful dress she had chosen now repulsed her up to the point where she wanted to tear it off, regardless of how much damage it suffered. The world was a horrible place, and nothing would ever be beautiful ever again.
When she had calmed down, her mother had taken the dress. She had assumed she'd gone to throw it away or give it to charity. Today when Muriel found it hidden upstairs, she had felt like she was nineteen and experiencing all that pain all over again. Her insides were being torn out, squeezed and chopped into tiny, bite-sized pieces. Bile was rising in her throat and her eyes were threatening to fully open their tear ducts. It was mortifying.
Muriel swayed on the spot with her eyes closed. After a few moments, she regained control of her body and shook herself, as if she was trying to get rid of all bad feeling. It was time to forget about George and the dress. She was an adult for goodness sake's; it was time to get her priorities straight.
With an iron heart, she made her way down to Ginny to continue to help her find Ron. She had made a resolution: she wasn't going to let this argument with the twins affect her relationship with the other children.
Even so, for the rest of the day she was but a shell of her previous, playful self, not being able to let go of that feeling of abandonment.
)O(
That evening after putting the other children to bed, Muriel made her way up to the twins' room with some buttered toast and two glasses of pumpkin juice. She knocked softly on the door, not knowing if they had fallen asleep or not, but it seemed unlikely. Now that she had regained her sanity, Muriel was ashamed to think that she had tied them up; it was too cruel to justify.
The room was dark and the two boys were still on the floor where she had left them. A wave of pity flooded Muriel. She should not have punished two innocent boys so severely; how did she become a monster so quickly? Guilt seeping into her very soul, Muriel hurried over to Fred and George and cast the counter curse to untangle the ropes. She was doing them a great injustice and a little food was not going to be able to made up for it; she would have to think of something to make them feel better after all of this, and quickly.
The twins shook off the remaining ropes and rubbed their arms and legs. Sitting in the same position for hours had made their joints sore and their tempers fiery. They had spent the entire time discussing what they would do to their aunt if she ever got them out of here. Now that they saw her, smiling mournfully, their vindictive thoughts dissipated and they shuffled away from her. After all, this was only one night out of many. Usually they had good fun whenever they went to their Auntie Muriel's.
"I'm so sorry about what happened today, I promise it won't ever happen again. Now, I understand if you still hate me, you're right to do so after I treated you so terribly, but if you could forgive me I'd appreciate it," the words came out of Muriel with difficulty.
Fred was the first to succumb to his aunt's wide-eyed plea. "I don't hate you," he said.
"That's nice to know, honey," awkwardly, she looked at George. When he failed to meet her eye, she sighed and said, "well, I suppose you have everything you need 'till your parents come to pick you up tomorrow. I'm going to let you not have a bath, seeing as it's so late. Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite."
She left the room.
)O(
The next day when Molly came back to Muriel's, she was surprised to see her children jumping around wildly, with no aunt in sight. Stopping for a minute to tell them to get into the fireplace and go home, she went up the stairs to Muriel's room. As soon as she opened the door, a large vase went flying over her head and smashed into the door behind her.
"Blast it!"
In bed, Muriel was readying herself for another attack on her niece. This time, she had chosen a more reliable projectile and was just aiming it when-
"Oh. I thought it was one of those kids again. Have you taken them away, Molly?"
"Well yes, but I don't understand why-"
"Then you can go home too. There's really no need to stay and bother me any longer."
"But what happ-"
"That's not important. What's important is that I don't want you here so LEAVE!" she pulled back her hand with the projectile in it, threateningly.
"Alright, alright. I'll see you later, auntie," Molly shut the door and made her way back to the fireplace. I wonder what's gotten into her, she wondered. She's acting like a child. I knew we should never have left the kids.
When she was sure the house was empty, Muriel cried out. She was never going to be able to trust anyone after seeing that dress again. It had reminded her that eventually, everyone was going to let her down, so why bother being nice? No, it was much better to become a bitter old maid.
She stayed in this frame of mind, never changing it, as others continued to live their lives. Slowly, they drew away from the old woman, leaving her truly alone.
Just like she wanted them to.
)O(
Fin
So, I hope you liked it. Review, maybe?