Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters of Kenyon and Sapphire, and the idea of the songfic. The characters of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy belong to JK Rowling. The song belongs to Good Charlotte.
Authors Notes: So… finally I have come out with yet another songfic… although it's not Blink-182, it's still a soppy song, so be prepared to get the tissues ready. The bits in bold and italics are lyrics.
Emotionless
"Kenyon! Sapphire! Please come downstairs. We have to talk about this."
I'm not going downstairs. Nothing can make me. How can my mother – the "great" Hermione Granger – hide something like this from her children?
I was actually in the middle of writing a letter when she called us downstairs. A letter to my "father". It went something like this:
Hey dad,
I'm writing to you
Not to tell you
That I still hate you
Just to ask you
How you feel
And how we fell apart
How this fell apart
Hi Dad.
It's me. Kenyon. That's if you remember me. It's been five years since you left.
Don't worry. I'm not going to get angry at you (although I still am full of rage); I just want to ask you some questions.
Like how you let all this fall to pieces. And like how you feel about what you did.
It was at that point that Mum called Saphy and me downstairs. To talk to us. To explain to us why our dad really left. She decided that she finally feels that we're old enough to know, at ages fifteen and sixteen. FIVE YEARS after our father left, she decides that.
Up until now, we'd both been told that he'd had to leave because of his job, and he didn't want us to move to Finland with him.
What a load of bollocks. The real reason that he left was because he'd had an affair with some slapper called Pansy.
Now, I've seen Mum and Dad's old school photos. I've seen Pansy. And believe me, not amount of charms and potions could fix that lady's face! She was unbelievably ugly.
To think that my father would even dream of sleeping with something that ugly makes me want to throw up. To think that my father would even dream of sleeping with someone other than my mother makes me want to throw up.
I won't lie. I won't say that the thought of Dad having an affair with some other woman never crossed my mind, because it did. But then, I always thought that I knew my father. And the father that I thought I knew would never have an affair.
I was blind. I never really knew my father. I know that now.
I'm going to finish that letter now.
Are you happy out there
In this great wide world
Do you think about your sons
Do you miss your little girl
When you lay your head down
How do you sleep at night
Do you even wonder if we're alright
But we're alright
We're alright
Hi Dad.
It's me. Kenyon. That's if you remember me. It's been five years since you left.
Don't worry. I'm not going to get angry at you (although I still am full of rage); I just want to ask you some questions.
Like how you let all this fall to pieces. And like how you feel about what you did.
In fact, scrap that. Mum just told us both why you left. And I'm beyond angry. Remember when you ate that Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean that made steam come out of your ears, nose and mouth? Yeah, well, I'm expecting that to happen to me – I'm that angry. And you of all people should know that I rarely get angry.
So are you happy now? Now that you've got yourself a nice new woman with a wonderful new family with five pets and a house with a white picket fence, are you happy?
Have you ever even thought about us?
Your ex-wife, Hermione – she's got a nice life. She works as a Healer now, in case you wanted to know. Your daughter, Sapphire – she's happy. Or at least she was until she found out about you. She was sorted into Ravenclaw, and she's got a Slytherin boyfriend: Blaise Zabini's son, Callum. He's a nice guy, just a bit retarded – he likes 70's Muggle rock music.
As for me, Kenyon, well, I'm doing well. I'm awaiting the results of my NEWTs – I hope I've done well. I know that I've got at least an E in Potions and Transfiguration – the subjects that you and Mum were both good at in school. And as for girls… well. There's a nice girl in Gryffindor who has a mega-crush on me, but I'm not really interested in girls right now. I just want to get my studies out of the way so that I can further my career in my band; The Famous Xenophobes. Our music is still raw, but we've been practicing hard, and we've really got something going.
It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why weren't you there the nights that we cried
You broke my mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not ok but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
I spent so many years
Learning how to survive
Now I'm writing just to let you know
I'm still alive
It's been hard without you here, Dad. We live in a democracy in this house – like we always have. And if I want to do something with Saphy and Mum, and they want to do something different, they'll always win because they're the majority. It's not fair, being the only man in the house. When Mum and Saphy cried at night, I was always the one who had to be strong for them, and I never cried in front of them. But when I was alone in the house, I'd scream and cry in rage and sadness until I was hoarse and there was no water left in my body to weep.
You broke our hearts, and tore our lives apart, Dad.
It hurt so much, and it still does. But we're alright – we always will be as long as we're together. None of us would be able to take it if one of us left: it would be too similar to what you did.
Do you remember on that family holiday to Florida? Saphy was seven, and I, eight. We were playing in the sea at Daytona Beach, then someone in the sea started to drown – they'd gone too far out and the current kept threatening to take then under. You were the first to dive into the sea to try to rescue them… That was when I decided that you were my new hero. But I know now that it must have all been a façade. Now the only hero I have is in my dreams; an imaginary but perfect role model.
We've only just recovered from the shock of you leaving – five years after you left us.
So I thought that I'd write to tell you that we're alright – not quite happy, but surviving and alive.
The days I spent
So cold, so hungry
Were full of hate
I was so angry
The scars run deep inside
This tattooed body
There's things I'll take
To my grave
But I'm ok
I'm ok
Five years. Five years, Dad, have been spent by Saphy and I trying to find our ways in this world, trying to find YOU in this world. And we were so angry, Dad. Angry at you, angry at that slut that you slept with, angry at Mum for letting it happen, angry at each other for the bad things we might have said to you to make you do it.
We're scarred for life because of you. And the scars, like those tattoos that Mum has of your name, will never go away. But we'll survive. We always have, always will.
Sometimes I forget
Yeah, and this time
I'll admit that I miss you
Said I miss you
At times, I manage to forget. I manage to let what you did to us slip to the back of my mind… Then I'll remember, and I'll miss you more than words could say… I miss you so much. We all do. None of us have been the same since you left. Sometimes I want to leave Saphy and Mum to seek you out, but I could never do it. I miss you, but I'd miss them more. We need each other. We needed you, and we've just barely managed without you, but they'd never manage on their own. That's way too much loss to take.
And if this letter reaches you, I have to wonder: would you care? Would you write back?
Your angry but forgiving son,
Kenyon.
PS. Mum, Saphy and I still love you, and always will.
I roll up the parchment and wonder whether to send it or not. I mull it over, and after a while I decide that I've got nothing to lose by sending this letter.
I call over my owl, Narcissus (so named because of my father's mother and because he's so vain – always fluffing up his feathers), and tie it to his leg.
"To be delivered to Draco Malfoy," I say, trying not to cry. The bird stared at me for a while, considering my request. Then he nibbled my finger then flew out of my window, into the night.
Will I get a reply? I don't know. Will he come back to us? I don't know. Would we be able to forgive him if he did come back to us and ask for our forgiveness? I don't know.
Could we become a complete family again if he came back?