This work, told from Hestia Carrow's perspective, is a prequel to my longfic series, but it can also stand alone.
Song rec: "Bells for Her" by Tori Amos
August, 1984
The Carrow family had lived in the coastal town of Cromer ever since the village of Shipden flooded centuries ago. Shipden was located past the town's large pier, and it had been submerged for so long that it was all but disintegrated.
But Shipden's church bells still rang, usually when one wasn't paying attention. Even Muggles heard them sometimes. Amycus Carrow heard the bells a lot.
"Listen closely now," he told his little nieces as they walked along the beach at the crest of evening.
Hestia held her breath against the fishy, salty smell and squinted out to sea, as if that would make it easier to hear the bells. She couldn't hear a thing. She turned to her identical twin, Flora, who was huddled up against Aunt Alecto's legs, practically tangled in her long dress.
"You hear 'em?" Hestia asked.
Flora put a single finger to her lips, shh. Hestia looked up to see Uncle Am glaring down at her. She was in trouble for being too loud. It was awfully hard to wait to hear something she couldn't hear, though. She didn't have the attention span for it and started digging in the sand, collecting unfathomable treasures. She stuffed her pocket with five different types of seashells, a Muggle bottle cap, and half the shell of a dead crab.
"Give me that rubbish," Aunt Allie scolded angrily, snapping her fingers in Hestia's face. "That's dirty, Hestia. Don't touch dirty things. Ugh, Muggle items. Now I have to clean your hands."
Hestia's tears stung the edges of her eyes as her aunt Scoured her palms clean. She watched the bottle cap and the crab shell get thrown into the waves to be lost forever. Just as she was about to cry, though, Aunt Allie Scoured the seashells and gave them back to Hestia to keep her quiet.
"Now shut it and listen."
Uncle Am had all but wandered into the water, having rolled his trousers up above his knees. Hestia wished she was allowed to play in the water, too, but she was told she was too young.
A few moments later, Uncle Am exclaimed, "Ah, there!"
He pointed out to the water. All Hestia could hear were the crashing waves. He splashed his way out of the waves and back to Aunt Allie.
"I told you it was a good night for 'em, didn't I? You hear 'em, Alecto?"
"I been hearin' bells since you first coaxed me down here when we was kids," Aunt Allie chuckled. "D'you hear them, girls?"
"I hear them, Aunt Allie," Flora said sweetly, swinging hands with her.
Uncle Am scooped Flora up over his shoulders and spun her all around until she squealed with giggles. Hestia stayed on the ground, wishing that Aunt Allie would pick her up. Then she'd be as tall as Flora. Maybe she'd even feel as tall as Flora. Hestia was a so jealous that everyone could hear the mysterious bells except her.
"Don't hear 'em, do ya?" Uncle Am accused.
"Nuh-uh," Hestia said.
"Must be your magic ain't strong enough yet. You'll hear 'em one day."
The way he said it didn't sound like he believed it. Hestia tried to hide her tears in Aunt Allie's dress, but since she'd been playing round in the sand, Aunt Allie didn't want her up against her.
"You need a bath is what you need, Hestia," she huffed.
Flora got to ride on Uncle's shoulders on the walk back as Hestia struggled to keep up with Aunt Allie, who was tugging her little arm.
"Uncle Am, I want a turn!" Hestia declared.
"You're covered in sand," he dismissed.
"Clean me with a spell!"
"Hestia, shut it, there's Mudbloods about now," he hissed down at her.
There were lots of Muggles here. Hestia didn't see anything really wrong with them except that they were all bigger than her. But Aunt and Uncle really didn't like them. They both sent nasty looks up to the pier as they passed by it, then turned their nasty looks to Muggles walking along the promenade. The Muggles looked like they were having more fun, really. They were walking cute dogs, riding bicycles, taking pictures of each other, holding hands, and laughing. Hestia's ankles were struggling against the sand. Flora started calling out the colours of the long line of wooden beach huts all along the shore.
"Blue, pink, yellow, yellow, green, blue-and-white!"
"You got 'em!" Uncle Am congratulated her. "What's your favourite colour, little flower?"
"Green!" Flora said.
"Mine's green, too!" Hestia yelped.
"Aunt Allie loves yellow. My favourite's blue," Uncle Am told Flora. "That makes green, don't it?"
"Green? No way!" Flora babbled.
"Yes way!" Aunt Allie laughed.
"I like blue, too…" Hestia struggled for attention. (Really, her favourite colour was green).
They trailed along the dark seawall and up a walking path, where several zig-zagged sets of steps led up to their street. Uncle Am spun Flora round and round again about the same time Hestia felt like toppling over from exhaustion.
"Y'see the pier from here, Flora?"
"Yup!"
"And where that ramp is, that's the lifeboat station. You need lifeboats 'cause high tide gets angry. Some call it Devil's Throat out there. The storm surge can get all the way up to the platform of the pier."
"No way!" said Flora.
"Yes way. Now look where I'm pointing. That's the church tower. That ain't the one we heard, though. We heard the one under the water."
"What's up top?" Flora asked.
"A bell, prob'ly."
"Can we go?"
"Aw, hell, Flora, I ain't goin' in no Muggle church," Uncle Am said. "Likes o' them killed our kind."
"Oh," said Flora.
Oh, thought Hestia. Whatever that meant, it didn't sound good.
They turned down a curved street alongside the lawns of the park, packed with immobile Muggle autos in a line. There was a wrought-iron fence at the edge through which coastal grasses grew feet high. Beyond that was a large patch of grass that gave way into a large thicket of trees overlooking the sea. It was there that the Carrows' house was hidden, Unplottable and Muggle-proof. Anyone without magic in them would just see the trees.
The Carrow house was Victorian in style, but not of the attractive variety. Its structure was entirely symmetrical, with a bay turret on each side and stained-glass window accents with tacky sailboat motifs. Under a blunted archway reminiscent of an abbey, a blue door sat perfectly in the centre, made of old-fashioned vertical wood planks. The edifice was grey and off-taupe and marked by pebblework. Though unappealing, the house was substantial in size and strong in structure. The family hadn't always had this nice a house. There were several things wrong with the interior, though, that the Spirit Division of the Ministry likely would not be able to solve even if they were permitted inside.
But little Hestia saw the place where she could get off her feet and tell her Daddy about her trip to the beach.
Daddy wasn't as active as Uncle Am and Aunt Allie. Sometimes it seemed like his favourite thing to do was stare at the wall. But he and Hestia would make moulding clay in the play-cauldron she shared with Flora. Flora didn't play with it, so Hestia was more than happy to have it all to herself. She baked pretend cakes that weren't really there and made pretend potions from coloured water Daddy conjured. They would play make-believe about all the magical things her potions could do. If she said the potion could make her fly, Daddy would Levitate her high in the air. If she said the potion was for gardening, Daddy would conjure flowers in her hair.
But Daddy's bedtime was often even earlier than hers, and then she'd be stuck with Aunt Allie and Uncle Am. Like now. Daddy was already asleep when they got in. Hestia wasn't sure she'd remember everything about her trip tomorrow. She wanted to tell him now, but the more she tried to get to him, the more trouble she got in. Uncle Am put her in time-out and cast a spell on her. She couldn't even move her legs as she sat on the stool. Aunt Allie and Uncle Am Scoured the bottoms of their shoes clean and then helped Flora get hers off. Flora usually didn't get dirty enough to get the Scouring Charm, so she still thought the bubbles were fun. Hestia already had learnt to hate them at the age of three.
"Pssst. Flora," she whispered, beckoning her twin over to the corner.
Flora looked over her shoulder before trotting over.
"Yeah?"
"What trick did you use to hear the bells?"
"It, er, wasn't a trick," Flora said, looking side-to-side.
"Well, how'd you hear them? I wanna hear, too," Hestia whispered.
Flora rubbed her face and kept looking off to the side. Hestia gasped.
"You didn't hear 'em, either, didja? You lied!"
"I didn't lie!" Flora erupted. "I heard them, I did!"
"No, you didn't! You're a fibber! You told a lie!"
"I'm not a fibber!" Flora cried.
Aunt Allie came storming in like a, well… a storm, all right. Hestia cowered atop her stool. She already knew what was coming. Not only had she been talking during time-out, she had made Flora cry. Aunt Allie smacked Hestia hard across the cheek, making her cry, too.
"Come here, sweetie, come here, it's okay," Aunt Allie soothed Flora, leading her over to the sofa. Flora climbed up and sat against her aunt, sobbing into her arm.
"Was Hestia cruel to you?" Aunt Allie asked, kissing Flora's head.
Flora didn't admit that Hestia had been bad, but Aunt Allie figured it out.
"Amycus," she called.
Hestia wasn't even over the pain of having been smacked across the face yet. But the next thing she knew, she was over Uncle Am's knee getting paddled. It hurt too much. She was already crying as hard as she could. Where was Daddy?
"Don't hurt her!" Flora screeched in shock. "Stop that!"
Uncle Am shoved Hestia off his knee, where she crumpled to the floor, sobbing.
"She's gotta learn, my little flower," Aunt Allie crowed. "See? It's over. She's gotta learn."
Hestia blinked at her twin through the tears, hating her and loving her all the same. Flora snuggled her cheek against Aunt Allie's belly and stopped crying sooner than Hestia. Aunt Allie stroked Flora's hair. Hestia had to suffer alone.
"Aban, get up and wash your damn kid!" Uncle Am screamed up the steps.
Daddy came down a couple minutes later, but it felt like forever. He scooped Hestia into his arms, but he didn't seem very comforting. He wasn't cruel, either, which made a world of difference to Hestia. He didn't offer any soothing words, but he kissed her forehead and ran the bath. Daddy's arms were much softer than Uncle Am's.
"You want cucumber or peach shampoo today, Hestia?"
Hestia sniffled as Daddy got the sand off of her.
"Cucumber…"
"Okay, shut your eyes tight or it'll sting," Daddy said.
Hestia listened to Daddy. It was a lot easier to understand what he wanted compared to her aunt and uncle. She was never in trouble with him. It wasn't that Hestia would remember this day exactly as she got older. But she would always remember that Flora was better liked by Aunt Allie and Uncle Am, that most the things she liked were considered "dirty," and that Daddy never came to her rescue until it was too late.