TW: mentions of suicide. no graphic depiction.
excerpt from Bound for company by Nora Finnigan
As a Hogwarts student, I spent most of the year away from my parents. There is a disconnect, but there is also a longing. To be closer; to understand. There is so much of me they do not know. I imagine my peers feel this way, too, but I see many of them write home every chance they get.
And then there is Jane. My relationship with her is laden with self-appointed guilt that same have said I should not carry. I carry it anyway.
end excerpt
December 29, 2022
I arrive home in a fog of iridescent air with more school supplies than I need weighing me down as I land in the fireplace. I walk to the entryway and put my bags down, moving to take off my boots, slipping the laceless leather shoes off with ease. As I shrug off my jacket, my parents leave the dining room and meet me at the front door.
"What?" I ask, unwrapping my scarf from my neck.
They won't look at me, their silence like a time bomb waiting to blow up my life. My parents are not quiet or avoidant people. They dance in the kitchen in the early mornings and tell me to lose weight when I least expect it. The only time they're like this is —
"Where's Jane?"
I had plans to rush to her room, jump on her bed, and describe my time in London in intense detail. As soon as we'd returned from King's Cross ten days ago, Jane and I had locked ourselves in my room, me telling her about my sixth year as I unpacked, her wrinkling my white comforter as she laid across my bed. She gave me the same advice as Rose: don't go out with Natalia and tell James how I feel. Like it was all so simple.
It turns out they were both right.
"She's fine, Nora," Dad starts, but I know it means bad news will follow. "She's in St. Mungo's getting…"
"Treatment," Mum finishes.
"What happened?" I forget about my bags lying all around me as I step toward my parents. They still won't look at me. "Did she —"
"No." Mum interrupts too quickly for comfort. A breath, then, "But she threatened to."
"Can I go see her?"
The question startles everyone, including me. My parents finally look at me after looking at each other, both sets of eyes wide.
"We could…" Dad starts. He sighs.
"Go tomorrow," Mum finishes, "we could go tomorrow."
Silence falls, and my parents quickly look at each other before leaving the entryway together, probably to discuss Jane. I've never been to the hospital to see her, but I assume it isn't the most pleasant way to spend a day. I turn around and collect my bags, remembering their weight as the plastic handles dig into my skin as I shove some up my arms. Upbeat music streams down the hallway from the kitchen, and I ignore the lack of my parents' usual laughter as I make my way up the stairs.
.
December 30, 2022
My parents let me enter the room alone, and I feel so large and intrusive in the sparsely furnished space. Jane lays still in bed, her chest rising and falling with every single even breath. I look past her to the blinding white that is all around us, enveloping us in its emptiness. I think they see it all as a blank slate for their patients to begin anew, the baggage of their past mistakes exactly where they should be: the past. But all I see is lifelessness. All I see is what Jane was trying to escape when she threatened to try to kill herself again.
At least, that's what I imagine.
Laying in the bed next to her, I struggle to fit myself properly in the space she leaves untouched. I wiggle until I make do with what there is and turn to her as she opens her eyes. They are so big, so blue, so beautiful, so empty, but they spring to life as they look into mine.
"Nora," she whispers.
My name has never been said like this before, so full of hope and desperation.
"I'm sorry," she continues. "I'm so, so sorry."
I take her face in my hands and tell her, "I'm not mad at you."
I think of my parents standing on the other side of the glass door watching us, their hearts hurting from the words Jane must have spewed at them during her attack. It always goes like this, at least in the last four years, calm and quiet and peace but underneath that peace is anticipation, building and building until it cascades over a wave of panic and defeat. Jane lashes out at everything around her, and my parents try to find a way to make everything better. Then it doesn't get better, and Jane goes to the hospital.
Except for the one time everything got infinitely worse, and I tried to stop the blood from gushing out of her wrists with my own two hands.
It isn't the first time we've ended up here since then. Jane is a frequent flyer in this ward, spending days or even weeks until my parents' guilt eats them alive, and they take her home to her bed.
Jane begins to cry, tears and snot running down her cheeks. I know this part by heart: the regret in the aftermath. Jane calls to whoever will hear how sorry she is, and I think she truly means it. She promises to try and be different until she is the same once more.
If I were a worse sister, I'd point this out to her. Instead, I pull her close and hold her as she cries more tears and snot, the mess of it all creating a wet stain on my shoulder. I think of Deidre's loud cries in the middle of her four-poster bed in the dormitory, but there is a significant difference here. I knew Deidre would eventually be alright.
I am so mad, and there are moments when it feels directed at Jane. Mostly, there is nothing on the other side, and I just remember my family from before — the lack of anticipation and anxiety and desperation for something better. Because we were already better.
"I'll try harder," she chokes, words somewhat distorted by the snot and tears. "I'll be better for you."
"You can't," I tell her, pulling away slightly. "I'm not around, Jane. You have to be better for yourself."
"I can't. I don't deserve it."
I pull her closer once more and whisper into her hair, "Yes, you do."
.
January 2, 2023
Dad pops us to the closest apparition point to the licensing building. As we land, I bend my knees, taking in a gust of air.
"Hold your breath during the test, and they'll dock points," Dad says.
I shrug him off as he places a hand on my shoulder, and I wait for him to take offense loudly, but the noise never comes. Instead, he steps ahead and leads me to the licensing building's front entrance, holding open the front door without a word.
A part of me feels guilty for shunning my father's affections, but another understands his form of manipulation. I steel myself in my physical boundaries and walk on, stepping into the back of the line leading to the front desk. Once planted in place, I pull a novel out of my shoulder bag and open it to its dog-eared page.
"This isn't that long of a process," Dad tells me from behind.
"How would you know? You took this test like fifty years ago." I roll my eyes.
"I took it less than thirty years ago," Dad huffs. "And I took your sister six years ago, Nora."
"Alright." I shut my book and place it back into my bag.
The line moves forward a few steps before halting once more. My bootie taps against the tiled floor. A laugh sounds through the room as a door opens, and two figures step out, one with short blonde hair and a lazy smile. Louis Weasley shakes hands with his examiner before meeting a woman in the waiting room who looks too young to be his mum. Although, from what I've heard, his mum can pass for an age well below her actual one.
I don't realize how intensely I'm staring until I watch the woman lean in to say something while pointing a finger my way. My eyes widen as Louis spins around to look at me.
His smile falls.
.
There are no laughs as I exit my examination. The examiner walks me to the exit door, stepping away before I even have a chance to open it. I look to the floor as I meet my father, and he holds out a small bouquet of peonies. He doesn't know that to me, they mean bashfulness.
I do wish I could hide right now.
I take the flowers with a smile forged from years of experience and follow him out the glass doors.
"Nora," Louis calls. He is leaning on the brick exterior wall, the collar of his peacoat unfolded and standing around his chin.
Dad eyes Louis with interest. Louis stands up straight and gestures for me to talk with him. I look between him and my dad, shrugging my shoulders to the latter, acting as if I don't know what Louis wants. Dad just shakes his head as if he just wants to go home.
"It'll just be a minute, I'm sure," I tell him.
"Alright, but I'm starving."
"You're always starving."
I hand Dad the flowers and walk over to Louis, who turns his back on my father and looks down at me, eyes glassy and maybe hollow. I have felt so many things for this boy over the last few months; adoration and irritation, anger and despair. And I've barely spent time with him.
"What do you want?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I haven't seen you since…"
"Since you told me you knew I had feelings for you and then kissed me in front of your girlfriend."
I feel a mix of adrenaline and confidence run up my spine. I have never had the upper hand with him before.
"Right. I wanted to apologize." He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck.
Rolling my eyes, I wait a moment. Louis's hand drops to his side, and he sighs.
"Then, apologize," I enunciate.
"I'm sorry, Nora. I really am," Louis pleads. "What I did was selfish and cruel. I shouldn't have dangled your feelings in your face, and I definitely shouldn't have kissed you."
"You know, there's one thing I can't figure out," I say, shaking my head. "Why did you bring up James?"
"What?" Louis takes a step back.
I follow him, stepping forward. "You said, and I fucking quote, 'Who holds your gaze now? Is it James?' By the way, Louis, the wording was very odd. 'Who holds your gaze now?' I mean, come on."
"I don't know, alright?" Louis shrugs, but it's overdone.
I take another step closer, tilting my head to keep our eyes locked, furrowing my brow. I call him, "Liar."
"Merlin, Nora, I said I'm sorry."
"Why are you lying?" My mouth widens into a smile as I speak, but it's the exasperated kind.
"Why do you care so much about my relationship with my cousin?"
I back down in surprise, eyes widening, feet retreating. Louis has that desperate look in his eye again like he might do something stupid, and I realize now it has nothing to do with me.
"I don't," I say simply, walking around him and toward my dad, who is looking at me, irritated and confused.
.
After we pop just outside our front door, Dad clumsily tries to ask me about Louis. There have been many discussions and a few screaming matches filled with tears on the subject of my privacy and Dad's nosiness and feelings of entitlement toward my life. A measly three weeks at home has felt like months.
"So Louis is still at Hogwarts?" he inquires.
"Mhm, a seventh year," I respond, waiting patiently for him to unlock the front door.
"I didn't realize you two were acquainted."
Acquainted?
"I failed the licensing test, you know," I say, shifting from foot to foot on the edge of the stone path.
"What?" Dad reaches into his coat pocket and grabs his keys, but his hand stops at my words, and the keys hang limply from his fingers. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"I didn't want to deal with it yet."
"What does that mean?"
"Whatever." I grab the keys from his hand and move in front of him. "Let's just go inside. I thought you were starving."
.
January 3, 2023
The night before I return to Hogwarts once more, I take the time to go around my room and say goodbye to my things, like my old side table made of suitcases I glued together or the line drawings of nude women found in department or second-hand stores. I look at the stack of books piled atop my trunk and call my dad upstairs to shrink them down to fit into my suitcase. I used to ask an older student to restore them to their standard size back at school, but then in fifth year, we finally covered it in Transfiguration.
Being seventeen means legal magic outside of school, but I still feel a tinge of anxiousness pulling out my wand off the grounds of Hogwarts. Dad and Jane say I'll get over it soon enough. Mum joins him in my room, lounging in the chair next to my desk, moving the plants resting atop it to the floor. She talks about nothing and everything, including all the new canisters she bought for the kitchen,
"We can schedule another apparition exam at the beginning of summer," Dad says later after I open my trunk and begin to line the shrunken books along the bottom. "You and Deidre can get your licenses together."
"Maybe," I respond. "I'll let you know as it gets closer."
"We're picking up Jane tonight." He throws into the conversation like it holds no weight.
"Oh." I stand up straight. "Good."
.
January 4, 2023
We all awake early the next morning, getting into Dad's car with bleary eyes and exaggerated yawns. Jane readies the music player, splitter, and headphones as Mum begins to search the radio for something too upbeat. Dad turns the key in the ignition, and the car revs to life as Dad asks us, "Are we ready? Do we have everything?"
"We triple-checked, Seamus, just like you asked." Mum lays a hand on Dad's arm.
"She forgot something. She always forgets something." Dad turns around, leaning over the center console. "Nora, you forgot something."
He's probably right; I always forget something.
"I didn't forget anything," I say with confidence.
Jane rolls her eyes and says, "Just drive."
She hits play on the music player as Dad backs out of the driveway, a solemn tune featuring a disappointed man filling our ears. Rose calls this sad boi music, while Jane says this sounds like all of my ex-boyfriends. She pluralizes ex-boyfriends with confidence in her experience, and I think of her time at Hogwarts or living in London with envy. Jane is deemed beautiful in every setting with her small waistline, acne-free face, and brown hair that falls around her shoulders in smooth waves.
And here I sit, chubby and pale with blemishes on my cheeks and hair too wild to deal with, trying desperately to feel beautiful in a world hellbent on telling me I'm not.
The drive is long, but the scenery is always breathtaking. I watch the snow-covered landscape pass us slowly by, Jane's music becoming the soundtrack to my morning. When the scene shifts and we are in London once more, familiar buildings passing quickly, Jane changes the tune to screaming women wanting to burn down the patriarchy. I bob my head along, turning to watch Jane mouth the lyrics with a face full of fake rage. Every time we laugh, Mum turns around to watch us with a dreamy look.
Dad makes a dramatic show of getting my trunk from the boot of the car.
"How many books and boots do you own?" He asks, pretending the trunk is too heavy. "That's it, no more."
Mum walks beside me through Kings Cross, looking down ever so often like she's going to say something. I try to ignore the obviousness of it, hoping she'll stay quiet, but her need to give her input always wins.
"Nora, I know you don't want to hear this," she starts.
I stop myself from quipping, Then don't say it.
She finishes, "But I really do think you'd feel better if you lost ten or twenty pounds."
I get a moment of relief as we come upon the brick pillar, Jane and Dad pushing through first. I look to my mum for a moment before taking her hand and pulling her through. She makes noises of discomfort, shaking off what looks like a buzz after we're safely on the other side.
"Maybe Rose and I will try running again."
I feel a mix of rage and disappointment fill my belly as I think of my body. There is so much I want to say, but instead, I lie once more, dropping my mum's hand. There is a war in my brain between not enough and too much. I wonder which words my parents attach to my image. I feel the threat of tears.
"Your friends are here," Jane says into my ear, pointing out Albus and James with their family, effectively pulling me from my spiral.
I look at my parents and say, "I have to talk with Jane privately."
Jane huffs as I forcefully pull her aside.
"What?" she grunts.
"I have a major update for you."
"Merlin, Nora, you've been home this whole time. What could have happened?"
"Well, on the day that you… Um…" I stop, taking in a deep breath.
Jane looks to the floor. I want someone to punch me in the face.
"It's alright," she says. "Just tell me what happened."
So I do. It feels different from telling Rose or Deidre, which I have yet to do. I want Jane to be awed by me and feel proud to be my older sister. I am searching for acceptance, I think, from the one family member I can rely on to always give it.
"Nora," she says when I've finished, my breaths shallow from talking too fast. "Honestly, I'm so happy for you. He must really adore you."
"I'm scared," I tell her honestly. "What if I'm not ready?"
"You might not be," she replies. "You just have to give it your best shot."
I crash into Jane as I hug her tight, holding on for what feels like too long and too short as my brain fills with guilt. Hogwarts is where I belong for now, but I'm leaving my family behind just as they are picking up the pieces of Jane once more. I look away from my parents as they watch this display of affection and see Deidre greeting Rose. They lean their heads together as if conspiring, and so I look away from them too. Albus reaches up to ruffle James's hair, and when I look at James, he is watching me. There is a second of contact, and then his mouth begins to form a smile. Before it can reach its full potential, I shut my eyes, hugging Jane tighter.
.
AN: The Louis scene was 100% initially supposed to be all nice and whatever but honestly? Nora is going through some stuff and really wasn't expecting or even wanting an apology from Louis. So.