A/N: Two today.
Chapter Ten:
Parentage
A half an hour's time found the pair behind a mirror on the fourth floor. Sirius assured her that the tunnel leading out of the roomy cavern at the other end led to the basement of the Three Broomsticks, which would explain the stash of Butterbeer hidden there. They chatted away as that drank, but finally a small silence enveloped them.
"So," said Sirius, wondering how to be rid of the elephant in the room once and for all. He settled on an un-eloquent, "Do you want to hear about mine, first?"
She swished her Butterbeer around in its bottle and stared at the ground. Sirius took that as a yes.
"Alright," he said. "Well, as you know, my whole family has been in Slytherin for...ever. There are the seldom exceptions, but they are few and far between. I am one of the exceptions. Therefore, I am treated like trash, and my jittery brother, Regulus, is treated like royalty." He paused. "My parents, you see, are pure blood maniacs. It makes me sick. I can barely stand to be around them...can barely stand to be around any of the people in my family. My Uncle Alphard's okay. So's Andromeda, my cousin, but..." He shrugged.
She nodded. There was a long pause in which she conjured a few daisies, her favorite flower, and plucked their petals. It was probably a nervous quirk of hers.
"If you don't want to talk about--"
"No," she interrupted. "No. It's okay." She paused for a second. "My parents name's were Elaine and Charles Cavenhaugh," she began. "They owned a little shop in Tottenham Court. They were great people. But one day, just as they were closing shop, a pair of masked men burst in and held guns to their heads while they took all the money out of the register." She took a few steadying breaths. "They killed them after that, even though they'd gotten what they wanted. I was only seven."
Sirius didn't dare ask what guns were. He understood the point well enough without that knowledge. Besides, he wanted to make sure she was finished before he cut in.
"Michael was in college," she continued, "just twenty years old. He had to drop out and take care of Christopher and me. He sold the shop and took up a full-time job in a confining office. He's since been promoted to manager, but I know he misses school. He wanted to be an architect. I can always see the regret behind his eyes. It's there steadfast, the wonder of what he might have been if he hadn't has his responsibilities to us. Even when he smiles, the glimmer of his lament is present." She gulped away the tears. "But he never complains, and the situation has just drawn us closer together, on the whole." She stopped.
Sirius didn't know what to say. He couldn't understand how she'd managed to keep all of that pain inside. The guilt of holder her brother back, the anguish of losing her parents to brutally. It was such a big burden to bear.
"I guess I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be treated like a porcelain doll," she admitted, tearing up.
He wrapped his arms around her. "Don't worry, Bitty," he comforted. "I won't treat you like a porcelain doll. Just know that I'll be there for you, and you won't have to bear this without your friends anymore."
She hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Sirius."
She smiled reminiscently and laughed a little. "I remember when Michael gave us the sex-talk. That was the most awkward conversations of my life."
And they laughed together in each other's embrace.