I had returned home to harsh and terrified shrieks. With the living room in shambles around her, my sister sat in the corner and wailed at my mother's mangled body. The terror and utter disbelief I felt in that moment is something I'd never experienced before.
I frantically tried every single spell I had ever learned to revive her. Again and again I racked my brain for something that could heal my mother. Running out of options, I had gone to Bathilda for help. I pounded like a madman on her door until I saw it swing open. Before I could even say a word, Bathilda pushed past me towards my house; evidently the combination of my panicked demeanor and Ariana's screams in the distance had said it all. She strode ahead at an anxious pace. Mid stride, she whipped out her wand to conjure a patronus. It's form was indistinguishable as it lumbered off and disappeared. When she stepped through the threshold of our home, and took in the horror of the scene, she shuddered and her eyes swam with tears.
I hung on her every move, and watched every expression that passed her face hoping for a glimmer of hope. Furiously I prayed to any sort of deity that would listen that she'd find a way to mend my mother's wounds. With her back facing me, Bathilda hunched down to see the body. She gently laid a hand on my mother's neck, and held it there with her head cocked expectedly.
The constant screams of Ariana amplified my fear tenfold. I felt my heartbeat quicken, and I started to hyperventilate.
Muttering under her breath, Bathilda waved her wand over my mother, causing a great deal of the blood disappear, and the wounds slowly sealed themselves. That energized me with a burst of relief, which soon proved a pointless emotion to feel.
Despite the efforts, my mother's lifeless eyes never stirred again. Bathilda looked back at me with a mixture of grief and empathy, then lowered her head. A group of medics from St. Mungos arrived minutes later, and did nothing but carry my mother away as a corpse.
No one was able to calm down Ariana for hours after her accident. Even when my brother Aberforth arrived, she refused to be consoled. She laid curled up in the same spot on the floor, and shrieked until her voice was gone. After her voice gave way and could produce no sound, she continued to open her mouth again and again in an attempt to scream, making her look like a lost, tortured soul. Ariana had known what she'd done, and it was impossible to take back.
Hot anger boiled inside my sister like an uncontrollable monster. Every minute of everyday she fought to repress the beast. At times, she could tame that monster, and would almost seem like a regular, happy little girl. But sometimes terrible things happen that you can never recover from, that will change you forever. There was something that broke inside my sister that could never be repaired. Ariana couldn't regulate her emotions, and as a consequence she couldn't regulate her magic. Acting out was the only way she knew how to react. There was nothing me or Aberforth could do but look on with sadness.
It had been eight days since the incident. For reasons most likely attached to grief and frustration, Aberforth wouldn't speak to me. He blames me for our mother's death, and I can't say I disagree. I didn't take enough time to care for her, and I should've made a greater effort to help with Ariana. Every second since that day, the thought that plagues me is that I should have been able to do something different to change the outcome. If I would have just stayed home that day, the accident might have been prevented or the damage could've been lessened. Maybe I could have spent my spare hours working with Ariana to stabilize her emotions, and control her magic. One small action could have been altered and my mother would be alive.
In eight long days, Ariana has yet to say a full sentence, or speak louder than a mumble. When she finally allowed us to approach her that night, Aberforth and I led Ariana up to her room and laid her down in bed. When her head touched the pillow, she seemed to calm, and the petrified look she had worn for so many hours was wiped from her face. When I looked into her eyes, I first I saw a consuming depth of sadness, like a dark abyss with no end. And as I looked deeper, glimpses of more and more feelings shone through. I realized I had only seen just a fraction of the frustration she felt being unable to express herself, or do the things she wanted to. The fear, the hatred, the longing to be normal. It was all there, in the gorgeous blue eyes of my beloved little sister. Seeing those things that haunted her tore my heart into pieces. The
As I sat on my bedroom floor, with the ground covered in books, and I could see the first bit of the day's sun light up my window. I lazily glanced down at the book currently in my hands, and absentmindedly thumbed the frayed edge of the page. My eyes stung terribly; I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten a full night's rest. Trying to sleep only cleared my mind enough to worry about everything, and actual sleep brought bone chilling nightmares that disturbed me to the core. Eating wasn't really a good area either. Not only did food in general nauseate me, but with my mother gone, the meals weren't exactly the most appetizing. I got the feeling my brother felt the same way. It scared me to see his face begin to darken and hollow out.
I slammed shut my book without bothering to read through the last paragraph. After hoisting myself off the ground and to my desk, I scribbled down some notes on the information I'd read. Over the past few months, I'd become fascinated with the properties of dragon's blood. It stood out to me as a substance that possessed a magnificent amount of unlocked potential. It's healing powers were unparalleled, it's used in every single potion that has the greatest mending effects, and I've been wondering what reaction it would have if curses and destructive spells were used against it.
I've been attempting to delve deeper and explore the world of possibilities of the blood. The amount of facts and research I've collected is completely miserable, because not many people have considered dragons blood useful. Another issue is I don't have any of the actual substance on hand, which makes the process about a thousands times more difficult. I would have to surrender every item in my possession to pay for a drop of it. So clearly, that's a little more than I have to spend.
I causally scanned through my book collection out of boredom. The spine of a very thick and rough looking book caught my attention. I had forgotten I even owned it, so I picked it up with an eager excitement. It was almost a year ago that I bought it, and that memory was extremely vivid. At the beginning of my last term of Hogwarts, I decided to take a look down Knockturn Alley for the the first time, and that's where I bought this particular book.
I found it in the back of a dark, foul smelling shop in the Alley. Layered in dust, and creaking when opened, it was as though no one had bothered to look inside for centuries. The cover had a wicked tone, and was definitely something you didn't want anyone to find you reading. Late nights in my dormitory I would comb through it's pages. Every single sentence and every piece of knowledge completely thrilled me. I had no intention to use any of the magic it advertised, but it intrigued me nonetheless. The fact that it was probably the thickest book in existence, and that I only read it when I had extra time(which was almost never), I was nowhere near the end. But at times it frightened me in strange and sinister ways. There were a few subjects that made skin crawl, and few that made my stomach turn. One thing I didn't understand was why anyone would wish to perform such gruesome acts of magic.
The house was so quiet, I jumped when I heard my bedroom door creak open. Turning my head, I saw Ariana standing in the threshold.
"Morning, Ariana." I yawned, walking to the door. "Do you want something to eat?" I tentatively stroked her messy blond hair, and she looked up, surprising me with a smile.
"There's my sweet sister. Come downstairs." I gently nudged her through the door.
As our steps echoed into the hallway, I saw movement by Aberforth's room, and he emerged. Looking towards us, he seemed a bit shocked that Ariana had come to me first and not him. After giving me a nasty glare, he approached Ariana and crouched to her level.
"What are you doing up so early, darling?" He asked while held the sides of her face, and she reached up to hold his hands.
"Food." She mumbled almost inaudibly.
"That's always a good reason, isn't it?" He gave a little laugh, and I was astonished to hear a small giggle come from her.
"Alright," he said as he stood up, and held out his hand. "What do you say we make some breakfast?" She took his grip and walked down the hall with him, looking back at me with a tender smile. Seeing her so joyful lightened my heart.
Down in the kitchen, Ariana sat contently on the countertop and watched Aberforth begin to make breakfast. Everything he did, he did to make her smile. From telling her silly jokes here and there to giving himself a pancake batter mustache, he'd do anything to lift her spirits.
"Orange juice?" I asked as I approached Ariana. She looked to me with eager eyes and nodded. "Good, because that sounds amazing to me."
Oranges were Ariana's favorite fruit, so naturally there was a grand orange tree towering in our backyard. I summoned a couple, juiced them, and gave a glass to Ariana. Her eyes lit up when she took the first sip, and subsequently drank half the glass in one gulp.
"Now," Aberforth said as he pushed me aside to divert Ariana's attention to him. "Are you ready for the best pancakes you've ever tasted?"
"Yum." She whispered as she looked towards the ground.
"Be prepared, my sister." Aberforth declared, leaning over a bit to catch her gaze.
Due to the somber mood in our home as of late, Aberforth had begun to turn breakfast time into a show. The kitchen was always a mess when he was finished, but Ariana was happy as a result and that was well worth it. He began flipping pancakes, and every other one ended up on the ceiling, rather than the skillet.
When I took sausage out and reached for a pan, he slapped my hand out of the way.
"Are you really going to keep doing this?" I asked, and I was getting tired of it.
"Just stay out of my way." Aberforth muttered under his breath.
"Oh, so you're speaking to me now?"
"Yeah, I guess I am." He stated as he faced me with resentful expression. "And as much as I wish I could never see your ugly face again, I have to deal with the reality that I do for the next while. So stay away from me and stay away from Ariana."
"Don't tell me to stay away from Ariana. She is my sister as well as yours, and I'm sick of you acting as though you're the only person who's experiencing grief." I tried to level my voice, but I could feel the anger boiling hot inside me.
"You didn't care about our mother and you don't care about Ariana, so stop acting like you do. Don't assume I can't tell what you're thinking. The only thing you're sad about is that you have to stay home with us rather than run off with Elphias. The only person you care about is yourself!" He spat the last word at me with hatred.
"If you accuse me of not loving our mother one more time I swear I will knock you in the jaw."
"Knock me in the jaw? Why don't you use your wand and prove what an amazing wizard you are?" He shouted, really getting in my face that time.
"Believe me you-" I stopped because I saw that Aberforth was looking over my shoulder towards Ariana. She was hunched over her knees on the counter, with her hands covering her ears. She was rocking back and forth, shaking noticeably.
"Not again." Aberforth said as ran to her. In that instant all of my fury dissolved, and was replaced by shame. I had forgotten Ariana was right behind us, hearing every word we said. Seeing her break down reminded me just how easily she could be tipped over the edge.
Eventually Aberforth got her to relax, and made her a big plate of breakfast that she started to eat happily.
"You should eat too." I whispered to Aberforth.
"I'm not going to worry about myself right now," He said with his eyes still on Ariana. He turned his head to me and asked "When was the last time you ate?"
"A lot more recently than you. I'll get you a plate." I stated as I pushed my chair from the kitchen table.
"Fine. I'll eat if you eat." Aberforth retorted defiantly.
"Fine."
I made pancakes, sausage, and orange juice for the both of us, even though the last thing I wanted to do was eat. But Aberforth needed food, and he was the most stubborn person alive. So that meant I had to force down some pancakes.
"You're a terrible cook." Aberforth said with a sour look on his face.
"I might not be amazing but you're so much worse."
"I am a artist compared you, I think I just swallowed a rat tail." He joked with a sarcastic smirk.
"Your cooking is so awful it could literally kill someone just from the smell alone."
"That's it. Ariana, taste this nasty breakfast Albus made, then taste my wonderful pancakes and tell me who's is better." Aberforth said as he slid his plate over.
She smiled as she slowly slid the dish towards herself. Ariana glanced tentatively from plate to plate, then finally sampled each with a skeptical look on her face. After studying each of us for a moment, she gave her judgement.
"You're both awful." She stated quietly with a shy laugh.
Aberforth's face mimicked the shock painted on my own when I heard that many words come from her. It made me feel like there still might be a sliver hope.
"Well I guess that settles it." I said as got up, and grabbed the plates. "I'll take these away from your sight your majesty." I kissed her head and gave her a small sarcastic bow. As I was setting the plates into the sink, I heard Ariana's chair slide against the floor. She walked up to me, considered me with a small sweet grin, buried her head into my chest and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her body to embrace her little frame, and it was the first time in eight days I felt truly happy.
As a few more days past, Aberforth and I were getting along much better. It seemed to me that we had had a silent agreement to keep it together for Ariana's sake. The last thing we needed in our house was contention. We weren't like normal families where arguments were simply uncomfortable, arguments led to disasters. Disasters that could evidently prove lethal.
Still today after these many years it astounds me what trauma can do to a person. My Araina was such a beautiful soul; she always smiled and laughed, she was so kind and gentle, a girl who hadn't a care in the world. She could speak for days about the simplest of things and be delighted by them. Forever I'd thought that that sister would be with me until I was old and gray. We would speak of our childhood with such fondness and love around the families that we had both built. We'd joke about the experiences we'd had as both children and adults. Our lives had been picture perfect. Whenever I was with Ariana in those times, that fantasy of a happily ever after was a constant vision in my mind. Back then our family was whole: two parents who were always grinning, holding hands, and looking at each with such tenderness and love it made you believe anything was possible. Ariana, Aberforth and I were three joyful siblings who couldn't fathom the thought of having a life any different than the one we were living. It was a bright, gorgeous world, and we were all impossibly naive. Everything was perfect, until it was not.
In her spare time what Ariana adored most was to be outside in her garden. It was truly
garden, she was the one to make it bloom like it had a life of its own. My mother planted the first seeds, but that was really about the last time she stepped foot on the soil. Ariana took such a liking to the greenery and the energy of life the flowers and plants emitted, the garden became the ultimate brightness of her life. It was an amazing thing to see, when she walked into the multitude of bushes and trees. Everything became brighter, more lively, and it all gravitated towards Ariana as she waltzed through the stone pathway. In that garden was first place Ariana began practicing her magic. With a flourish of her hand, flowers would gladly fan their petals and grow into bigger and better plants than they could've have ever been without her power. She could lay a gentle hand on the soil, and the strawberries that were once small and sour, turned plump, juicy and sweet.
And of course there was the orange tree. That beautiful, beautiful orange tree. Within a few months, that tree had grown so large that it towered almost thirty feet tall. Not a day passed that Ariana didn't climb to the highest branch to enjoy eating a piece of fruit. I would see specks of orange trickling down from middle of the tree and onto the ground, proving she was perched up there, peeling her favorite snack. I'd look up through the branches and leaves to see Ariana smiling down at me with a mouthful of orange, her golden hair in her face, and the sun shining behind her. I always thought it gave the appearance that she was literally glowing. An angel on earth.
But then it all disappeared. That day her home was ripped from her grasp, taken from her without any warning. Ariana had been in the one place she felt absolute safest, but heartbreakingly it was the place where she was attacked. Her sense of security was violated, she could never again have peace of mind, and her soul was forever marred and broken.
The entire time those boys were tormenting her, my father was inside the house, completely unaware something horrible was taking place just outside the back door. He loved Ariana just like we all did, and he acted on instinct, on adrenaline. No one could stand the thought of anyone hurting such a beautiful, kind girl. It was an abomination. I can say with absolute certainty that if I had been home from school and had seen Ariana so scarred and horrified because of the muggles, I would have done the exact same as my father. I would be one locked up in a dark cell in Azkaban, with no remorse or regrets of wrongdoing whatsoever. They deserved everything they got.
My mother tried everything in her power to restore Ariana's health and stability. We all waited and waited and held our breaths for an appearance of our old sister, but our hopes were shattered. After countless months of emotional agony, the three of us began to accept that the girl in front of us was a stranger who we needed to get to know.
Today was yet another uncommonly gorgeous day, which was completely wasted on me. The lovely weather practically slapped me in the face and made me hideously bitter. Anything that had the nerve to be bright and cheery in the midst my horrible circumstances demanded my hatred.
I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep on the living room couch until Aberforth shook me awake.
"Wake up, you lazy sack." He stated loudly.
I gazed up at him with heavy eyelids and a murderous glare, and promptly gave him a not-so-friendly hand gesture.
"Nice one. But I'd probably act a little more appropriate if I were you, Al. We have a lovely guest today." He said with a self-satisfied grin as he turned to reveal Bathilda standing at the door.
"Oh. Uh, sorry Miss Bagshot." I said groggily, and felt a great deal of embarrassment. Hastily, I sat up to straighten my clothes and attempt to look somewhat decent.
"I have grandsons. Believe me, sweetheart, I've seen it all." She said with a sweet grin as she approached me. I noticed behind her there were several dishes carrying a variety of foods hovering in her wake. "I figured two teenage boys wouldn't have the capacity to make any sort of acceptable meals." She said softly with a laugh.
"Thank you. That was very kind." I told her, feeling a grateful smile spread across my face. "I'm afraid you're right about that." I admitted as I watched the dishes linger towards the kitchen and set themselves on the counter.
"But also," she began as her smile faded, "I think it's time I speak with you Albus. The conversation is long overdue." While she speaking, I recognized the same expression she wore on the day of my mother's death.
"Alright." I stated, unable to meet her eyes. I was terrified to hear the questions she would ask, and even more terrified to give my answers. Suddenly I realized Aberforth was staring me down with such panic it bore straight through me. I took a deep breath as walked towards him and whispered in his ear.
"Go upstairs with Ariana, take some food."
He shook his head fervently.
"Just go, okay?" I pleaded with sympathy. Aberforth looked at me, then turned his head to get another glance at Bathilda. His next statement truly shocked me.
"Okay." He whispered, "I trust you." He patted my shoulder, grabbed some dishes, and exited the room.
I was staring at the human embodiment of my absolute worst fear.
I watched anxiously as Bathilda took a seat in one of our overstuffed chairs. She took a long look around the room with deeply saddened eyes. I noticed her gaze lingered on the spot my mother had been.
"At this point I can't imagine what kind of pain you've been through. The things you've seen, the death you've experienced, I really can't comprehend how you've coped. But you have. And that alone proves to me what a strong boy you are. I admire you very much." She paused, and took a deep breath. "But I must ask you to tell me the truth. About what has really happened in this house. I feel I need to know after the things I've witnessed, and I get the feeling that I do not understand your situation like I thought I did. I want to understand."
I swallowed hard, trying to put words together, but my mind was going blank. I felt that she was truly sincere, and had only our best interests at heart. This woman was kind, and I think she was determined to help us.
"My sister was tortured by some muggle boys for practicing magic." The words escaped my mouth, and I couldn't believe they had. More began to spill out. "In his rage, my father- he attacked them. He went to Azkaban, and we were left with the aftermath. Ariana-" I shut my eyes and tried to compose myself, feeling tears begin to take form. "Ariana was never the same. She barely talks. She can't control her anger. Her magic spills out when her emotions get the best of her. And we were selfish. We didn't want to tell anyone, because we knew they would take her away. So my mother kept her here, treated her with care, and devoted herself to making her as happy as possible, hoping one day a miracle would occur, and she would fully recover. But clearly," I said with a bitter laugh. "that never happened.
"My mother was tired. When Ariana lost control, it was difficult to contain her. I don't know the details but it was because of my sister my mother died. Ariana did not do it to hurt her, that much I know. She never wants to hurt anyone, she just acts out, and doesn't really think of where she's directing her magic. And after all my mother's sacrifice, all her grief, the one thing she cared for the most became her downfall." A few tears rolled down my cheeks. I think that was the first time I'd really told the entire story out loud. It was unbearably painful.
Bathilda had a hand over her mouth, and was visibly distraught. When I had finished, she walked over to where I sat, and hugged me. She held me like a child, broken and frightened. It made me feel so safe and comforted, feelings I hadn't felt in so many years.
"I'm so sorry Albus. I'm so, so sorry." She said in soft, kind tone, which made me even more emotional. She pulled away and looked at me with such an intense stare it took everything in me not to look away. "I promise you, I will help you. All of you. Your sister, your brother. You will never feel unsafe, or unsure of your futures ever again, do you understand?" I nodded my head with urgency. "As far as I'm concerned, you are now my responsibility." She gently stroked my head and spoke again. "You will never feel unloved. I promised you that."
"You don't even know how much that means. Honestly." I hoped she could sense the gratefulness and sincerity in my voice. Bathilda's face spread into a warm smile and gave a small laugh.
"Well, now, look at me I'm a mess." She stated as she pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. "I do have some good news for you believe it or not." She said still cleaning her face. "My grandson is coming to stay with me for the summer. He reminds me so much of you- smart, talented, bright. He's really an amazing boy. I think perhaps you two could be friends.
"I have to admit though, he is a bit of a troublemaker. Following rules is not particularly his strong suit, much of the reason he's staying with me. His parents are hoping to straighten him up a bit. Another reason I think he could benefit spending time with you. He attended Durmstrang, which I believe was not the best decision. In my opinion, the school is not half as good as Hogwarts, and quite frankly I think at times its morals are questionable. But, my grandson seemed to enjoy attending. Which I'm not sure if that's good or bad." Bathilda stated with a quizzical expression. She hoisted herself off the couch and continued. "All of that aside the both of you have much in common and I hope you could be friends. He arrives tomorrow morning. Would it be alright with you if I brought him over to say hello?"
Honestly, I wanted to say no. I wasn't exactly in a friendly type of mood. But after this, I really only had one option.
"Yeah, I think that'd be great. Thank you Bathilda."
"You're welcome, dear. Now I think I've probably overstayed my welcome. Making you to pour out your heart, and all." She joked. I let out an actual, unforced laugh that lifted my spirits.
"You're a good boy Albus." She stated while opening the door. "Don't let your trials make you bitter or angry. It may be hard, but you have the capability to overcome your struggles. Learn from them, don't dwell on them. If you do that, you'll grow into the brilliant, great man I know you can become." She paused and I really thought about her next sentence. "You, Albus, could really change the world." And just like that she was gone.
Before I even had time to process anything, Aberforth came into the room.
"Don't let her encouragements go to your head. You're still a pompous idiot." He said nonchalantly as he slumped himself down on the couch.
"What-" I looked from him to the hallway he just came out of dumbfounded. "Were you here the whole time?"
"Not the whole time. I took the food to Ariana and came back down to listen. Just in time to hear you cry like a baby and share your deepest darkest secrets." He teased with an eyebrow raised.
Suddenly I became very aware of my reddened eyes. "I seriously hate you." I tried to act like I didn't care but honestly I was extremely embarrassed. I trudged over to the kitchen and angrily ate the first thing I saw, which happened to be a dish full of puréed yams I ate with my fingers.
"Aw, is the baby upset?" Aberforth asked. He walked over to the kitchen and patted my head. I don't think I'd ever put that much effort into making a hateful stare. "I promise I won't tell anyone how easily you cry." He dove two fingers into the caserole and made an obnxoxious effort to eat it. Despite myself, I couldn't help but laugh, and I shook my head.
"You know have you ever thought for even a second of taking something seriously?"
"No, what would be the point?" He asked matter-of-factly, looking from dish to dish, examining their contents. "So are you excited for your best friend to get here in the morning?" Mid-sentence he had taken a carnivorous bite out of a piece of meat.
"That's about the last thing I'm interested in right now, but I couldn't say no!" I said spreading my hands in an exasperated gesture. "I mean, honestly why would I want to spend my time with some random kid I don't know? What are we supposed to do? Form a book club?"
"Ha!" Aberforth laughed. "I can absolutely see that happening."
"Shut up. Eat your meat." Everything tasted so good, I was positive none of us could possibly ever lose our appetites again. "What did you take Ariana?"
"Some yams, roast, green beans, pudding, a couple of rolls. And a glass of orange juice." He said as he began juggling a couple of rolls. "I think her eyes physically expanded when she saw it."
"I don't blame her." I loaded myself up a plate enough for ten, and motioned for Aberforth to follow me. "Come on, let's go eat with her."
As we trudged up the stairs, I could sense Aberforth gearing up to say something.
"Do you think it was a good idea to tell her?" He almost whispered. I came to a halt on the next step and turned to face him.
"I think we can trust her. She seemed very sincere. And she hasn't done anything otherwise to me me think she'd do something to hurt us." I thought on my words and studied by brothers face, trying to read him. "It's going to be alright. I promise." He lowered his head and nodded.
"Okay, would you move now? My food's rotting." He said smugly, and I smacked his arm. "You prick! I could've fallen!"
"You probably could have! And I would have loved to see the food splattered all over your nasty face!" He punched me back and we quickly turned it into a slap fight like a couple of toddlers.
"Alright, ALRIGHT! ENOUGH!" I yelled while laughing. Aberforth narrowed his eyes at me and kept going.
Ariana was nestled in her window seat with a buffet of food presented in front of her. She looked so cheery because of the meal, I could almost imagine Ariana as her old self. The rest of the night was joyful and lighthearted. We all fell asleep on the floor of Ariana's room with full bellies, and restful minds.
My eyes darted open to the sound of our doorbell early the next morning.
"Ughhhh," Aberforth groaned next to me. He took a painful swing at my back and said "Get the damn door!"
I groggily made my way downstairs, attempted to straighten my bedhead with my hands, and thrust open the door.
"Well, you certainly look happy to see us." Bathilda said with enthusiasm. Behind her stood a rather tall young man with golden blonde hair that seemed to take its energy from the sun. His handsome face wore a judgemental yet mischievous expression that gave him the feel of being very untrustworthy. His hands were held behind his back, which triggered my initial instinct to think he was concealing a wand. It instantly made me feel edgy, and I wanted to slam the door in this boy's face.
"This is Gellert, my grandson." She said as she turned to place a hand on his shoulder. "And Gellert, this is Albus."
"It's such a wonderful pleasure to meet you Albus." Gellert sneered with a horrible level of sarcasm, still not revealing his hands. I responded with a curt nod.
Bathilda smacked him on the side of his head. Rolling her eyes, she continued "I just thought I'd introduce him to you and your siblings. I'm hoping you'll get along well. Where are Aberforth and Ariana?" She searched behind me.
"Oh, they're, uh, upstairs. I'll go get Aberforth." I turned to walk around and the boy seized the opportunity to let himself in. It took every bit of restraint I had not to jinx him on the spot.
"Let's meet these two perfect souls!" He stated with gusto and started to walk towards the stairs. Bathilda grabbed him by the arm and roughly pulled him back.
"You can be such a little prat sometimes." She looked to me with embarrassment and said "If they're asleep we can come back another time."
"No, no, it's fine." I said although it was definitely not fine. "I'll get them." Gellert enthusiastically followed me up the stairs with Bathilda in our wake. Every ounce of me was bothered by him, but for some reason I could not tell him to stay behind.
Already regretting the action, I opened the door to Ariana's bedroom and kicked Aberforth awake.
"What the bloody hell-" he stopped once he noticed we were not alone. He only responded with a troubled, unintelligent look.
"Not a very bright family, is it?" Gellert said to his grandmother.
"Why don't we have them over when you first wake up and see what you look like?" Bathilda asked him with another knock to the head.
At that moment Ariana stirred and sat up. When she saw the two guests she adopted a look of fear and anger. Seeing her discomfort, Aberforth put an arm around her, and consoled her.
"So," I mumbled awkwardly. "This is my brother, Aberforth, and my sister, Ariana." At the sound of her name, Ariana jumped a bit, and hid her face in Aberforth's shoulder. I attempted to lead Bathilda and the boy from the room, but again he slipped past me. He picked up the book and notes I had been reading last night and studied them.
"Um, excuse me." I said as I ripped my belongings from his grasp. He a gave me a smirk and a prideful laugh and said "I wanted to see what you thought of that book."
"Have you ever thought of asking?" I said with a hateful stare.
"Only when absolutely necessary." He stated matter-o-factly as he sized me up. "I just wondered if I wasn't the only one who realized how magnificent dragon's blood was."
I considered him, and looked for deception in his statement, but found none. "Yeah. I guess you're not one of a kind." He cracked a half smile and stepped back towards his grandmother, and assumed the same position with his hands tucked behind him.
"Well, now that you've met I think we can leave. It seems, like usual, Gellert has overstayed his welcome."
I lead them down the stairs and out the door. As they were walking through the front yard, Gellert turned around, started walking backwards and shouted "See you around, dragon boy."