For the Hogwarts Forum
Halloween Haunted House- Write about an abandoned child
Count Your Buttons- towel, defective
Marius hunches over, his stomach aching as it growls. He can't remember the last time he's eaten. It had been before he'd been thrown out, but the days have blurred together. All he can remember now is the chill in the air after the sun sets, the fear that sinks into his bones as the world gives way to shadows, and the aching loneliness as each step he takes puts more distance between him and his family.
Former family, he reminds himself. They don't care about me anymore.
His dirty fingers brush over his wrinkled shirt, and he almost laughs. His father had called him a disgrace. Now, he realizes he looks the part. He is not a regal, proud Black. His days on the streets have turned him into little more than an urchin.
His skinny legs knock together, and he lets out a pitiful, strangled groan. Marius doesn't know if he can carry on. What will happen to him if he falls dead on the street? Will passersby notice at all? Will he just be some young tragedy for whom no one will mourn?
He tries to force those thoughts away. Nothing good will come from focusing on his fears. Still, his mind turns over again and again.
I will die alone. Will Dorea miss me? Will anyone care?
Marius realizes he doesn't want to carry on anymore. There is no point. What sort of life can a Squib have? He doesn't belong in the wizarding world; he will always be out of place among the Muggles.
He isn't even aware of making a decision. His feet guide him into an alley without hesitation, and he collapses onto the grimy ground. For once, Marius doesn't care that he's alone as night sets in. If he's lucky, the shadows will take him, and he will be free from his misery.
…
"Oh, you poor thing!"
Marius bolts upright at the voice. By now, he's learned that the streets are not kind to a young boy. Instinctively, he curls into a ball to protect himself.
"It's okay, little one," a woman says. "Look at you! You're skin and bones!"
No one has ever spoken to him with such kindness before. Marius relaxes slightly and chances a glance at the speaker.
A plump woman with rosy cheeks hovers over him, her lips drawn into a worried frown. She adjusts her food-splattered apron before offering him a hand. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"M-Marius." His voice is barely a whisper, but the woman smiles when he speaks.
"Why are you in the alley, Marius?" she asks.
He looks away, shame heating his cheeks. The woman seems so warm and friendly, and he wants to tell her everything, but his old fears surface. "I'm not supposed to talk to Muggles," he mumbles.
She purses her lips, chocolate brown eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, I don't know what a Muggle is," she chuckles. "I'm a Murray. Josephine Murray."
He shouldn't fall for her kindness. Muggles are supposed to be evil tricksters. But he isn't a wizard; he's a Squib. Why should it matter if he trusts her? Trembling, he accepts her hand and allows her to pull him from the grime of the alley. "I don't have a home anymore," he answers quietly.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."
…
It turns out that Josephine and her husband own the restaurant Marius had fallen asleep outside of. Their flat is above the restaurant, and Josephine guides him upstairs. "My Thomas has some clothes you can wear," she tells him. "They'll be too big on you, but we'll make do until I can get you something better."
Marius follows along, swallowing dryly. "Thank you," he whispers.
She draws him a bath, still wearing that kind smile. "Poor dear," she says, ruffling his dark, matted curls. "We'll have you fixed up as good as new."
When Josephine leaves, Marius stares at his reflection, frowning. He barely recognizes himself. His once silky black hair is matted and tangled into knots. His pale skin is partially hidden beneath a layer of grime and mud.
Marius pulls himself away from the mirror and slides into the tub, scrubbing himself. A satisfied groan escapes his lips. It's been nearly a week since he's been able to bathe, and the warm water and scented suds are absolutely glorious.
Part of him thinks that maybe Muggles aren't so bad. The other part reminds him that it's dangerous to think he'd have a chance to find out. His own parents have abandoned him, left him on the streets to starve and suffer. Why would a complete stranger want him? She only feels sorry for him. She'll offer him a hot meal and send him on his way.
Back to the streets. Back to fighting to stay alive.
Suddenly, his luxurious bath doesn't feel so wonderful. He drains the tub and climbs out, wrapping a towel around his scrawny body before checking the mirror. The old Marius is still there, he realizes. The same high cheekbones and long lashes Pollux would tease him for. He resists the urge to slam his fist against the glass and shatter his reflection.
…
"Eat slowly," Josephine cautions as Marius starts to dig into the plate of beef, gravy, and potatoes. "You're starving. It'll make you sick if you wolf it down."
"Thank you for this," Marius says, his stomach growling as his bites into a roll. "I'll be gone soon, but I wish I could repay your kindness."
The words seem strange. The kindness of Muggles. He's always been raised to believe that people like Josephine are wretched demons. Now, he doesn't know what to think. She has shown her more warmth and generosity than his parents ever have.
"Where will you go?" she asks. "Back to your family?"
Family. The word twists his stomach into knots. They have abandoned him. He is just a child, and they've turned their backs on him.
"I…" He trails off, his cheeks flooding with heat. "I don't have a family. They're dead."
He feels an acidic guilt in his stomach, but he ignores it. It's close enough to the truth. His father had told him that Marius is dead to them. Why shouldn't it work the other way around?
Josephine dabs at her eyes before focusing her gaze on him. Marius shifts, uncomfortable by her attention. "You poor dear," she says softly, pursing her lips. "Well, you can't just live on the streets."
Marius turns his attention to his plate again, but his appetite seems to have disappeared. He knows that the streets aren't safe, but what other choice does he have?
The woman climbs to her feet and moves closer. Though Marius doesn't look at her, he can feel her eyes on him. He wonders what she's looking at. Can she see that he's broken, defective? Has she reconsidered and realized she's wasted her kindness on someone like him?
Her fingers move through his hair gently. Marius closes his eyes, tears dotting his lashes. He remembers Dorea stroking his hair like this to get him to sleep once.
"Thomas and I always wanted a child," she mumbles. "Someone to take over the restaurant one day."
"Why don't you have one?" he asks.
"It isn't always meant to be," Josephine answers sadly. "We're childless; you're parentless."
Marius opens his eyes as he makes the connection. He shifts his gaze to her, his mouth slightly ajar. "You have been too kind to me already," he says. "I couldn't-"
"Sleep on it," she says. "Give it some time, and then you can make your decision."
…
Marius walks the length of the bedroom. His bedroom. At least, it could be if he stays.
He comes to a stop at the window, peering out at the city below. Somewhere out there, the Black family is carrying on without a thought of the child they've abandoned. They wouldn't care to know if he's doing well.
He rests his forehead against the glass and exhales deeply, his breath fogging the window.
Josephine and Thomas are nice people. Maybe he should care that they're Muggles, but he's a Squib, so it doesn't seem important now.
Can he do it? Can he start a new life, become a part of a new family? Will Josephine and Thomas grow bored with him one day and abandon him if he doesn't live up to their expectations?
There are too many questions and not enough answers, but his mind is surprisingly at peace. He has a second chance at a happy life. It's scary, and he's well aware of all the things that can go wrong; he doesn't care.
This is his chance, and he knows he will make the most of it.