Written for Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season Four (Round 12)
Team: Puddlemere United
Position: Beater 2 (Reserve)
Prompt: Fluffy slice of life story about the Gaunt Family
Bonus Prompts:
2. (quote) 'Help me… I'm feeling!' - The Grinch, How the Grinch Stole Christmas
(Used as inspiration/theme for the story: Merope learns that it's okay to have emotions and also shows how she handles them.)
9. (quote) 'Mother, I want to see him fly!' - George R. , A Game of Thrones
(Used as inspiration for Morfin's character/personality; also used as paraphrased dialogue)
Word Count (not including title and author's notes): 2385 (Google Docs)
One Hundred Reasons to Sing
Merope Gaunt loved the early morning hours, before anyone else was awake. There was no one to bother her, no one to nag her about chores, no one to say she was a useless Squib and a disgrace to the Slytherin and Gaunt families. For a few hours every day, there was no abuse and she could truly be alone.
The world felt quieter before dawn and she could rest.
Peace was probably the best word to describe how she felt in the grey hours before dawn — but then again, she wasn't entirely sure about that. All her life, she had only ever experienced a never-ending stream of abuse and pain. Those few hours she had to herself in the mornings were simply void of suffering. So, the ultimate question was: Is a lack of pain truly peace? Honestly, she didn't know. But if she ever decided to share that with anyone — which was bloody unlikely ... she wanted to live, thank you very much — they would have been shocked that a nine-year-old girl had experienced the things she had.
At this point, though, it really didn't do her any good to sit there and think about all the "what-ifs" in her life. What if her family liked her? What if she wasn't beat by her brother? What if she tried to get help? What if, what if, what if — the questions took her in circles and they never helped. In the end, she could never see beyond the tangled forest that she lived in and knew it was better that she didn't ask questions.
Merope emptied her mind as she walked further away from her house and deeper into the forest. Despite the chilly weather, Merope only wore a light, threadbare jacket. She shrugged off the cold and continued to walk down random paths. She was not paying attention to her surroundings, a dangerous thing to do, when she suddenly noticed a large adder in her path.
Freezing, she carefully took stock of the situation. She knew she wasn't in danger — if she had to, she could speak to the snake in parseltongue and command it to go away — and was more curious about what the snake was doing. The snake was deliberately coiling and reared its head back as if to strike prey. Feeling a sense of urgency that she hadn't ever felt before, she quickly looked to see if she could spot what the snake was hunting. She found the snake's prey easily, for it was glaringly out-of-place on the dark forest floor.
"Stop!" Merope cried out. "Stop!"
The snake turned to look at Merope and hissed low and threateningly at her. "Who are you, one who dares to try to command me?"
Merope glanced between the snake and its prey, before looking directly into the snake's eyes. She wasn't sure why she was interfering, her father and mother would be displeased, but she was too invested at this point to stop now.
"Who I am is not your concern," Merope glared at the snake. "You will leave this creature alone and never bother it, or me, again."
The snake half lunged at her and hissed furiously. "This is my forest … and it is my prey."
"Not any more," Merope replied.
Hissing angrily, the snake slithered back into the shadows of the forest. Merope waited a moment to see if the snake would return. When that didn't happen, she stepped forward and glanced at the tiny, pathetic creature laying on the ground.
An internal battle raged in her mind for several moments, before one side — she wasn't sure if it was the right side or the wrong one — eventually won out. Sighing, she gingerly picked up the baby bird off the ground. It was probably the ugliest thing she had ever seen. There were random patches of fluff covering its tiny body and its skin was practically translucent, so much so that she could see veins criss-crossing its frame. It was a miracle that it was alive still; it was probably freezing. Merope thought that the bird was probably only a day or two old. Hoping to see its nest nearby, she looked at the nearby tree branches, but saw nothing.
"Where did you come from?" Merope wondered out loud.
The tiny bird struggled to lift its head up and gave a feeble peep. It looked into Merope's eyes and she felt her chest tighten. Why does my heart hurt? she wondered. The bird gave another peep.
"We are not friends," she said.
.oOo.
They might not have been friends, but the tiny bird quickly became a part of Merope's life. The first thing she had done, after deciding to help the tiny thing, was find a low, sheltered branch in the forest and build a house out of leaves and sticks. After placing the baby bird in the shelter, the next part of the whole ordeal had been the most disgusting: feeding it. She did not like smooshing worms and berries together, and then having to put it in the bird's mouth. Yuck.
"Try to not die, okay? I didn't build this house for nothin', ya know," she had told the bird. "I'll be back before dawn tomorrow."
The baby bird had snuggled into its new nest and gave, what Merope assumed to be, a contented peep.
She had sighed. "What am I going to do with you?" she had whispered, as she turned around and walked away.
The days passed, however, and the tiny bird didn't die. Merope tended to the bird, at first begrudgingly and then, as time went on, much more willingly. Her mornings were no longer spent alone, but she wasn't bothered by that fact. The tiny bird quickly began to get more steady on its feet and took to perching on her shoulder, no matter if she was sitting or walking through the forest.
As the days turned into weeks, it started growing real feathers and began to look like an actual bird, and not a tiny, plucked chicken. Merope identified the bird as a robin and decided that it needed a name. After caring for the tiny bird day in and day out, she felt it deserved to be called something other than "bird." Although, she wasn't entirely sure what to name it and decided to wait for inspiration.
Then, about two-and-a-half weeks after Merope started caring for the bird, it began to try and fly … and that's when she discovered a big problem.
One morning, as she was watching the bird try to fly, it would flap its wings, but would soon fall to the ground. Its right wing moved at an awkward angle and wouldn't allow it to take more than a few ungainly flaps. The bird tried and tried, but couldn't do anything more than fall to the forest floor with a small thud.
In a moment of clarity, Merope guessed that the wing at one point had been broken and had not healed properly — and she immediately knew that it was her fault. Her baby bird couldn't fly because she hadn't noticed its wing had been broken at one point — probably when she had first found it. She could have treated it, but now her little bird would never fly. Merope fell to her knees and, in the first time in literally forever, she started to cry.
When did it become my bird? she thought, while she sobbed on the ground. After a few minutes, when her tears showed no signs of stopping, she felt the little bird hop up her arm and onto her shoulder. Distressed, the little bird started trilling and peeping in her ear. Sniffling, Merope tried to smile, but ended up sobbing even harder.
"I-I-I'm s-so sorry!" she said through her tears. "I'm so-sorry I ne-never n-no-noticed."
And with that confession, all of her emotions she had kept tightly locked up inside her heart were released like a flood. All of her hurt, pain, and suffering consumed her and she could hardly breathe. The little bird had counted on her and while she had kept it alive, it would never be able to fly.
She had let it down.
As she continued to cry, the little bird hopped anxiously on her shoulder. Suddenly, the soft trills turned into a gentle melody. Merope slowly stopped crying and listened to the song the bird sang. It wasn't a sad song. Instead, the song warmed her heart and Merope felt an emotion she had never experienced before: forgiveness.
Wiping away her tears, she let the bird finish its melody before speaking. "I don't know if I can accept your forgiveness," she whispered, "but I will try to not let you down again."
The little bird peeped in her ear and gently pecked her cheek. Laughing lightly, she brushed the faded red feathers adorning its chest.
"I think I'll call you Ruby," she said, "because you were an unexpected treasure in my life."
Ruby jumped up and down on her shoulder and trilled happily.
"I'm glad you approve," Merope smiled.
.oOo.
The days continued to pass and Merope began to take Ruby on longer journeys around the forest. One day, Merope worked up the courage and left the dark forest behind and traveled down the country lane. Instead of going toward the village, however, she went the opposite direction toward the moor. Merope quickly learned that she loved the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair, and Ruby seemed to love playing in the tall grass. Standing out on the moor, Merope experienced a range of emotions, from happiness, to joy, then to freedom. As she kept a close eye on Ruby, who hopped around on the ground, Merope decided that she would give anything to always be this free.
After spending most of the morning on the moor, Merope and Ruby reluctantly made their way back to the forest. Once they made it back to Ruby's nest, Merope started a game of catch with the tiny bird; she would toss a berry and then Ruby would catch it. Laughing at the robin's silly antics, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind her.
"What the hell ya doin'?!" a familiar voice shouted.
Merope yelped and jumped to her feet. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with her sixteen-year-old brother, Morfin. He was glaring at her and his hands were at his sides, balled into fists.
"What the hell ya doin'?!" he repeated.
"I, uh, I mean nothing! Not doing anything!" Merope shouted, doing her best to stand in between Ruby and her brother. Unfortunately, Ruby took that moment to hop up around her and jump on her foot.
"Well, well, well," Morfin gave her a malevolent grin, "I shoulda known a useless Squib woulda gone an' got a stupid pet like that."
Merope subconsciously took a step backwards, which only made her brother grin wider.
"Lemme see it." It wasn't a question.
Merope silently shook her head. She was too scared to speak and her brother's face was growing darker by the second.
"Lemme. See. It."
"No," Merope said, barely above a whisper. She was trying to will her feet to move, to take her far away from where she stood, but before she could attempt anything, the choice was taken from her.
Morfin moved as quick as lightening and pinned her against a tree. One hand was clenched around her throat, as he roughly grabbed Ruby with the other. Grinning, he tightened his grip around her neck and held it a few moments longer, before he let her go.
Falling to her knees, she coughed and tried to catch her breath. Tears fell down her cheeks, so she didn't see the kick coming towards her ribs. Crying out in pain, she lay on her side and held her upper stomach.
"Yer a disgrace, Merope," Morfin spat at her. "Yer a disgrace an' a Squib. I might jus' feed yer stupid bird to a snake. Or maybe I'll tie its wings an' see how good it flies." And with that parting comment, he started to run back in the direction of the house. Ruby was cheeping frantically.
"NO!" Merope screamed. I promised I wouldn't let her down again! Screaming out in agony, Merope released a violent wave of magic that knocked Morfin onto the ground. Stunned, Merope put aside the fact that she just did magic and stumbled to her feet. Pushing past the pain, she quickly reached her brother and found that he was knocked unconscious. Turning him over, she found Ruby seemly unharmed and quivering in his limp hands.
"One miracle after another," she breathed. Relief washed over her, before panic quickly set it. Morfin knew she could do magic. He would tell their parents and her father would start making her do the things her brother did, like torturing animals and people … or worse. Her mother was currently bed-ridden, but even if she wasn't so sick, she would never put a stop to it — she was just as twisted as her father.
Merope felt tears gather in her eyes and she furiously brushed them aside. Fix problems now, cry later, she thought. She knew she couldn't stay here, that much was obvious, and that she also couldn't go home. Ruby was still quivering in her hands and Merope gently held her closer to her chest. There was only one choice: She had to leave.
With that thought in mind, Merope took off through the forest, taking care to not jostle Ruby too much. Within minutes, they made it to the country lane and Merope stopped. Holding Ruby out, so that she could see where they were, Merope asked her, "So which way?"
Ruby cautiously looked west toward the village, before turning east toward the moor. Ruby gave one loud peep and then turned toward Merope. Merope smiled back at Ruby. "I agree. Let's go get our freedom."
Merope quickly walked down the lane. While she did not know where she was going, she knew she would never go back. It was scary, but with Ruby nestled in her hands, she now knew what peace felt like. And with any luck, this would not be the last time Merope Gaunt felt hopeful for her future.
