A/N: Thanks guys - you are amazing! I love Remus too, but I may have to break some hearts and say that Effie/Remus is quite unlikely.
This chapter is very long and by the end is very intense. I've been hinting at this since the beginning of the story - very subtly - I think a few of you have picked up on these, but I'll stop now because I don't want to spoil anything.
Chapter Twenty-One: Just plant your feet and take it
The train ride was uneventful. Jasper and I played gobstones while Marlene and Benjy read the Prophet together, their hands entwined. We didn't want to draw attention to it, but Jasper and I exchanged a few knowing glances at their little display of affection.
After I'd said goodbye to my friends, I left the platform to meet my parents, who didn't usually come through the barrier to 9 and ¾. I wasn't surprised when I saw that only my mum had turned up. She was looking nervous, her curly hair looking more like mine than her usually well-kept style. She broke into a smile when she saw me however, and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I could feel a few spots of wetness on my back, but when we separated, her eyes were dry and she was beaming.
"I'm so happy to see you, love! Shall we go home then?"
"Nice to see you too, mum," I said as we walked towards her car, me, pulling my trunk behind me. I noticed Sirius and James walking nearby with an elderly couple. The man's hair resembled James' – messy and sticking up in odd directions, so I could only assume that these were the Potters - especially since they were stopped by several other families on their way out. Sirius caught me looking at them and I raised my arm to wave, but he just nodded back and I let my arm slip back down to my side, embarrassed at his non-reaction.
"So where's dad?" I asked as my mum and I struggled to lift my trunk and put it in the back. I was bringing home quite a lot of books so that I could try and catch up on my work and we were having a tough time, so she let it drop back to the floor to catch her breath. She sighed and dapped her face with a handkerchief.
"Oh…daddy's been gone for a few days again. He's very busy." I noticed that she wasn't meeting my eyes and even though it felt like I should go along with the lie, I didn't. Instead, I didn't comment, knowing that being a builder didn't usually take my dad away on business trips. But this was a usual occurrence over the years. He disappeared without any communication for several days at a time, but he always came back. And that was all I wanted to think about for the moment.
"Excuse me, can we give you a hand?" James Potter was beside me, grinning charmingly at my mum and Sirius was close by, his eyes on my face.
"Oh, how lovely! Yes, thank you," my mum said, stepping aside.
"It's too bad we can't use magic in public, eh Eff? Sirius could have levitated it in, no problem!" James said as he and Sirius lifted my trunk with no problems anyway. "What have you got in here? Aubrey's dead body?"
"I can only wish," I said. "Just books."
"Well then, enjoy your Christmas!" James said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Nice to meet you," he nodded at my mum.
"You too," she said, smiling as the two boys walked away.
"Have a good break!" I called and Sirius turned back to give me a half-hearted grin, which I could only return weakly because my mum had decided to comment at a horribly loud volume.
"Ohh such good looking boys! Are they friends of yours?"
"Not really," I muttered as we got into the car. Sirius didn't even wish me a Happy Christmas. Just James – who would talk to anyone so long as they were standing still long enough. I sighed as I looked out of the window, thinking again about Remus' invitation to hang out with them. I hoped again that they actually enjoyed my company and didn't just feel sorry for me – I really wanted to be their friend.
Christmas was a family affair, spent at my Grandma Yates' house with the whole Yates clan (my mother's side). We never saw my father's side of the family – so with his absence, Mum and I were the only Savages present. Since there were so many of us, we had Christmas lunch out in my Gran's large back garden. She had a nice country house with several old and antique trinkets, so she liked to keep the commotion outside. My dad had always huffed about her keeping her money to herself, but I didn't agree – she paid for Hogwarts, so she was the only person outside of the direct family to know I was a witch. In front of my aunts, uncles and cousins however, I had to pretend that I went to a posh boarding school up in the mountains and I always seemed to get digs from my cousins, who attended regular muggle Secondary schools.
"You all right, Little Bug?" My uncle Tony said, ruffling my hair as he passed me sitting on the porch steps.
"Yeah Bug, how's the Posh boarding school? Meet a posh lad to marry then?" Nathaniel, my 18-year-old cousin asked.
"Be serious, Nate," Eugenie, his twin sister replied. "Effie's afraid of her own shadow – let alone talking to boys."
I sighed and sipped my eggnog. Eugenie and Nathaniel were mild compared to the people at Hogwarts, but they weren't particularly nice either.
"It's not really like that anyway – we're there to learn, not find potential husbands," I said, rolling my eyes. Okay, a bit hypocritical coming from me since I couldn't deny I often spent more time thinking about boys than schoolwork, but nonetheless I wasn't looking for a rich husband!
"Aunt Sarah's been telling Mum that you've been swotting it up – so I guess there's that. Mostly A's apparently?" Nathaniel asked and I nodded.
"Yup – that's me, doing brilliantly."
"Oh don't be such a show-off Bug," Eugenie said, punching my shoulder lightly. "You haven't even asked us about where we got into Uni."
I smiled at them. "I didn't even know! Congratulations, where are you going?"
They went off into a long-winded conversation about their university and what they were going to be studying and I nodded along as I watched my mum. She had tears in her eyes and my Aunt and Uncle were tutting at her, shaking their heads. When they noticed me looking, they plastered on grins and my mother wiped her tears away in a hurry.
"Stop staring Little Bug – your eyes look massive from over here," My uncle chortled, making my relatives laugh and me smile painfully.
"Tony, shut up!" My mum said, pushing him and he looked confused.
"What?"
"Euphemia!" Grandma Yates was calling my name from her rocker in the middle of the Garden and I stood up at once. "Come and have a game of Chess. Your mother says you've been practicing."
I heard Nathaniel sigh heavily and Eugenie hissed, "Why does she always pick you to play with?"
"What was that Eugenie?" Gran asked, cupping a hand to her ear.
"Nothing Gran. Just wondered when I can have a game against you!" Eugenie replied with a huge grin.
"Nonsense. We had one just yesterday. I haven't seen Euphemia since August!" my grandma pish-poshed.
"You're just worried you'll lose Gran!" Nathaniel laughed and she smiled back.
"Watch it you two – or I might decide not to pay for university!"
"Mum!" Aunt Susan said but Gran just made a face.
Gran tutted to me about my dad being missing and complained about my Mum being too soft and me being too quiet, but in the end we managed to enjoy a nice few games of chess. She was impressed with the way I'd improved but also took this as the moment to give me a hard time.
"Now, didn't your parents spend a tidy sum on getting you contact lenses over the summer? Why aren't you wearing them, Euphemia? A young lady shouldn't look so unattractive – not at your age!"
I heard Eugenie and Nathaniel chuckling nearby but I just sighed, feeling hurt at her words, but also used to them. It was the kind of thing I got from my relatives constantly. No one wanted their grandchild to be a loser. It was a bit rich coming from my grandma, who walked a bit like a duck and had a fingernails that looked like claws– but to be fair that was probably just her age.
"Mum, give it a rest," my mum spoke up – the only one who would truly defend me. "Effie will wear them when she feels like it."
"I can only imagine what Cliff will say when he finds out you haven't been wearing them though! All that money he spent."
I was worried about this too. My dad had groaned and complained and yelled when my mum had suggested they buy me contacts, but he'd given in eventually. I knew he wouldn't be happy that they weren't being used.
He returned home on New Year's Eve, smelling of stale drink and unshaven. He barely looked my way when he walked in, grunting when my mum offered him tea and not saying a word until he'd emerged from the shower, clean shaven and his hair combed neatly. He knocked back about three glasses of whiskey before he finally grinned around the room at us.
Despite his confident stance and exuberance, my dad was plain looking with dark, straight hair and sallow skin. His best features were his light brown eyes – the same ones that I had, though mine were hidden behind my thick lenses. My mum, on the other hand was quite pretty, with blonde, curly hair that was messy but more manageable than mine. But much of the prettiness was hidden in her hunched over, withdrawn stance – something that doubled when he walked in to a room. Even so, with his boldness and her quiet beauty, they made a perfectly handsome pair, and I felt like the odd one out. It seemed I'd inherited the worst bits from the family. The mess of curls was lackluster black instead of bouncy, blonde. The awful eyesight and bad teeth were likely from my granddad – but at least the braces had fixed one of those things. And thankfully I hadn't also inherited Grandma Yates' negligence for fingernail care.
"Hello love, was it a good Christmas?" my dad said, kissing my mum when he'd put down one of his drinks. He was swaying a little as he poured another.
"Yes. Are you all right?" my mum asked, worriedly touching his cheek.
"Yeah," he said, nuzzling her neck. She stiffened slightly as he went on. "How was the old bat then?"
"Cliff…" my mum murmured and I tried to focus on my Charms textbook. The words were shaking on the page.
"Still keeping her money close to her chest?" he asked, laughing as he spilled some of the contents of his glass and moved to refill it.
"Actually, darling, she's paying for Eugenie and Nathaniel's university," she whimpered, barely raising her voice as he glared at her. "And she gave Effie a 50 pound note for Christmas, didn't she love?" she added as she looked at me pleadingly.
Dad's eyes brightened and he swung around to look at me.
"You're back then? How was your term, Effie?"
"It was okay Dad. I think I did quite well on my end of term tests," I said, clutching the arm of the sofa.
"Give us a look at the 50 then…" he said, stumbling over and holding out his hand. I fumbled in my pockets and leaned over to hand it to him. He folded it and inspected it before putting it in his pocket without a word. Mum and I didn't comment. I was waiting for worse.
"Made any more friends yet? Or is it just that Marlene character putting up with you?" he said, lurching back and leaning against the back of his armchair to look at me.
"A few, Dad," I muttered, trying to look back down at my book. I could smell the alcohol from five feet away, and my stomach was turning.
"Two very good looking boys stopped to help her with her trunk at the train station!" My mum put in gently, moving forward to touch his shoulder.
My dad laughed. "Give her a medal – can't even lift her own trunk! I see you're still wearing those eyesores."
Of course – we'd arrived at them.
"I didn't want people to make fun of me at school," I mumbled, trying to look at him evenly.
He laughed again, cruelly. It reminded me of Bertram Aubrey. "They already make fun of you! You'd been crying about those things for years and then I spend a bloody fortune and you won't even use them?"
"Sorry dad…I will, at some point," I said, digging my fingers so far into the sofa, I felt the down underneath one of the holes.
"It's not that difficult you know, kid? Just plant your feet and take it – they'll leave you alone."
"Is that what you would do?" I whispered, staring at the coffee table.
"What?"
I looked up at him, ignoring my mother's panicked shake of the head. "If I just planted my feet and stood up to you. Would you leave me alone?"
"Don't talk to me like that, you little bleeder! I'm just departing you with a little sense! Maybe you ought to take a second to be grateful for all of the things you've got from me, you little loser," he said, lowering his voice dangerously and knocking back the more of his drink. Some of it sloshed down his front and he wiped it away sloppily.
I stared back, biting back all of the insults I wanted to throw at him and every single person who had ever called me a loser. "Sorry for talking back," I said thinly, clutching at the armrest. It wouldn't do to make him angrier. Not when he was this drunk. People did horrible things when they were drunk. Him, especially.
"Not good enough!" he yelled, moving forward and making to grab my glasses from my face. I pressed myself against the sofa, to duck away from his grasp.
"Cliff, NO!" My mum said, leaping forward and trying to drag him away from me.
"Get out of it, Sarah!" he said, knocking her back so that she landed on the floor with a thump. I jumped up to run to her, but he grabbed me tightly by the arm and pulled the glasses off my face. I heard them snap and heard the sounds of him dropping them and crushing the lenses beneath his feet but I ignored it and tried to stumble over to shield my mum. He'd only ever hit her twice before, but I wasn't taking any chances.
"GET OUT OF HERE CLIFF. I'VE HAD IT!" My mum sobbed from behind me.
"Sarah…I didn't. I didn't mean to, I just…" Of course – cue the inevitable apologies. He never 'meant' to hurt us…
"You heard her Dad," I said, shakily reaching in to my jeans pocket to feel around for my wand. I probably wouldn't need it. I just needed to keep him talking long enough to calm down.
He was still laughing and it rang in my ears as I felt my mother quivering behind me.
"Didn't they put you in that ridiculous school house that's big on bravery? Look at you there, quivering and squinting at me…" he whispered. He might have thought it was under his breath, but as always, the alcohol made his voice loud and grating.
"Thought you would've got that from me – but obviously you missed that boat too," he finished. "Stop being such a baby. Get up."
"You think this is brave?" I shouted back. "Coming home from a bender and having a go at your daughter for not wearing her glasses? Pushing your wife around cause she was in the way? I'm glad I'm nothing like you!"
"Effie. He's drunk," my Mum hushed, touching my shoulder with a trembling hand. My own hand fastened around my wand, ready to pull it out.
"What did you say Sarah?" he asked, taking some heavy steps towards us. I reacted on instinct and drew my wand, hoping that I was pointing it in the right direction. I could only make out shapes and colours, but I was pretty sure I knew where he was.
"What? You're going to use your magic tricks on me?"
"Don't push me!" I said. "You are not going to hit her. Not again."
"Eff…come on love, I didn't mean it. I just…I want people to like you. I spent all that money," Though I couldn't see his face, I could imagine it looking sincere and heartbroken. His voice had even become low and soothing. I heard my Mum moan from beside me.
"Well I'll have to wear them now that you've broken my glasses, won't I? I'm sure that will solve all of my problems," I mumbled.
"Get up Effie. Sarah, please I'm sorry. I promise, I'm calm now," he said, holding his hands up and out of reach. "I didn't mean it. I'm calm."
"Effie, let me up. He won't do anything," my mother mumbled.
"No Mum," I said firmly, using my left hand to stop her from going to him and keeping my wand arm steady and trained in his direction. There was a pregnant pause as the three of us looked at each other. The pause went on long enough that I thought that maybe he wouldn't actually do anything. Maybe he really was sorry.
"GET UP YOU UGLY GIT!" My Dad yelled, once again losing his temper and making me snap.
"You see this? This is why I'm afraid to do anything! It doesn't matter if you think people will do right by you. They always disappoint you. Go on Dad, say you won't hit her again…say it – so that I'll know I was right to doubt you," I replied, tears streaming down my face and clouding my already blurry vision so that I could see absolutely nothing.
I didn't see the heavy glass ashtray flying until it was about ten inches from my face. My mother screamed and pushed me back, covering me with her body and it hit her right on the head.
"OH my GOD!" I yelped, hurrying to pull my sweater off and press it to my mum's bleeding head.
"Oh God…no! Sarah," My dad dropped to his knees beside us and he was finally close enough for me to see him. He had tears on his cheeks and though I hated him, I still felt sorry for him.
"Just go Dad. Call an ambulance and go, now," I mumbled, hugging my unconscious mum to my chest. Why had I believed him, even for a second, why had I believed that he wouldn't hurt her?
"I didn't mean it Effie," he said, staring at me. "You know I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."
"Go Dad," I said again, my voice more fierce.
He nodded, got up and scrambled to the phone, mumbled something and then rushed out of the front door. I heard it slam and took a shaky breath. I didn't know what condition my glasses were in, but by the sounds of my dad crushing them under his feet, they were likely beyond my repair right now. I wasn't even supposed to be using magic outside of school, but I needed to keep pressure on my mum's head as well as find a way to see. I took a breath, thanked Merlin that Charms was one of my better subjects, and said, "Accio!"
My contact lens case came rushing to my hand and I hurried to pop them in to my tearing eyes. It was lucky that I had practiced so many times, because I was able to easily put them in one-handed and could finally see, just as some coppers and paramedics burst through the front door and rushed to us.
"What happened?" one of them asked as they took her vitals. Another man helped me up and checked me for injuries, but none of the blood on me was mine. I held my hands up as they fussed, staring only at my mum as they poked and prodded her. Her dress was riding up her thighs – I wished I could pull the hem down – she would have been embarrassed.
"Did she say? What happened?" Someone repeated frantically.
"She fell," I lied, knowing that my mum would want to protect him. She always did.
"Come on love, we'll take your mum to casualty," a young paramedic with a kind face wrapped an arm around my stiff shoulders. I watched in a haze as two other medics rolled my mum out of the front door on a stretcher. "Dry those pretty eyes," he said as he ushered me to the door after them. "She'll be fine."
A/N: Nothing to say but sorry, Effie. Thanks for reading.