Molly Weasley is here, holding out her arms. I don't hate Molly. I don't hate anyone.
I'm leaning into her, Teddy crushed between us.
I'm crying and she's crying.
I've lost my sisters, my husband, my daughter and my son because of one stupid line.
Cissy is staring at me.
And she's turning away.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Molly whispers into my ear, rocking me back and forth like I rock Teddy. I know she's apologizing for killing Bella, for Remus, for Dora.
"It's alright," I say back and hug her tightly. Between us, Teddy squawks indigently and we break apart, peering down at the bundle of purple hair, cuddled in his sling. "I . . . am sorry for your loss, Molly." I know she's lost a son. The first thing I saw when I stepped into the Hall was a stock of red hair lying all too still. It took a moment to register- a Weasley. But then I saw Dora and Remus and nothing else mattered.
"Thank you," she says, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve. There's a pause when she looks away, seeing nothing and then, "I am sorry… for killing your sister."
"Mum!" It's Dora, running into the house without knocking. She knocks over a vase in the front hall and doesn't bother to repair it, like she usually does. "Mum, have you read the Prophet yet today?"
"No, of course not, honey. I haven't had my morning coffee yet . . . and aren't you supposed to be at work? Wasn't there a big field exercise today?"
"They told me to go home, to stay with you. Oh, Mum, look." And she spread out the paper. There, staring back at me, was a picture of Bella and a headline about a breakout at Azkaban. "They told me someone from the Auror's office would be by to talk to you shortly. Your sister escaped last night."
Fear clenched in my stomach followed by… hatred? No, I didn't hate Bella. Pity? Perhaps. It was more of an… indifference. A sad indifference. Yes, that's it. A sad indifference.
Dora was prattling on. "They want to talk to all of us, Mum, to see if we know why, or how, she broke out. They're worried about me, being an Auror and all. They're afraid she might come after me but I told them not to worry, I can take care of myself. It's you and Dad we need to worry about, perhaps set up some protective charms. Because you're her sister, and all."
I turned sharply on my heel and went back to making coffee. "Bella hasn't been my sister since the day she joined the Death Eaters," I said coolly.
Sad indifference is what I feel now. Yet, I mourn her. I mourn who she was, the big sister with the big dark eyes who used to share her chocolates with me. "I am sorry she's dead," I say carefully. "But I am not sorry she cannot hurt anyone any more." Molly nods wisely, sensing the deeper meaning of my words.
She knows what I mean but I wonder if I really know myself.