The next couple of weeks of summer passed without incident. The twins left for France again shortly after the party, effectively using the last of the Floo powder. No one really minded, except for Blaise, who had gotten a slow dance out of Estella at the party by asking her in French. She promised to answer the letters he was planning on sending, but his friends didn't expect any responses.
Avalon was more focused on why her cousins had gone through her mail in the first place. They had been tight-lipped about it, and whenever she asked they began to whisper in rapid French to one another. The only phrases Avalon understood were, "Am I standing in a toilet?" and "Excuse me, miss, I have lost my cow," neither of which came up.
She was still thinking about this when a letter came from the school. Included with the list of her necessary books and materials for the third year term, there was a slip of parchment she had been eagerly awaiting after hearing Lucy's stories of her time at Hogwarts.
"Mum! Can you sign my Hogsmeade letter?" Avalon shouted.
After not hearing a response from Isla, Avalon pushed herself off the bed and set off to find her mother. She was most likely somewhere in the manor, and the girl began to push open doors to find her.
In the end, Isla was in the drawing room, reading a book and drinking tea. She looked up at her daughter's entrance. "Hello, love, do you need something?"
"Hogsmeade permission slip."
"Of course," said the woman. She reached out and took the parchment. Her eyes barely scanned it before she picked up a quill, dipped it into ink, and signed on the line with a large, overdramatic flourish. "There you are, my darling. You're all set. Have fun."
"Thanks, mum," said Avalon. She turned to leave, but stopped suddenly.
Edgar was standing in the doorway, arms folded as he stared down at his daughter. His face was the thunderstorm Avalon had grown accustomed to. She took a step back in the direction of her mother. Edgar moved forward to fill the space she had anxiously created. "My, Avalon, you seem to be in a rush. Going somewhere?"
"I'm going to Daphne's," Avalon said with a shaky voice. "She wanted me to come over so we could—"
"Don't lie to me, girl!"
"Father, I'm not lying."
Edgar balled his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "You're not lying, you say? I know the second you leave this house you'll be flitting off to Augusta Longbottom and her imbecile of a grandson. You'll drink tea and laugh as though you're not lying to me through your spoiled little teeth right now. Won't you?" He paused, as Avalon took another step back. "Answer me, stupid girl!"
"How do you know that?" Avalon asked. Despite her question, the back of her mind, she already knew the answer.
She was suddenly back in the guest room with Eustace and Estella, listening to them go through her mail. 'There's nothing here he'd be interested in,' Eustace had said to his sister. Her father had commissioned her cousins to read the letters and report back to them. "Why did you get the twins to open my mail?"
"Because I knew it would tell me the truth, even when you didn't."
"Tell you the truth about what?"
Isla cowered in her chair, longing to help her baby but knowing Edgar would kill her for interfering in his discipline. His scowl deepened. "I know the truth, Avalon. I know that last summer, you went and stayed with the Weasley family when you told us you were with Daphne. And if you dared lie to me in my own house once, I knew you could be doing it more times."
"Yes, father, I stayed with the Weasleys. And despite everything you taught me, everything you drilled into my head, I didn't hate it. Yes, I said I was going to Daphne's then, and I tried to tell you I was going to Daphne's a few minutes ago because I had tea with Mrs. Longbottom planned. But it's because you're so unreasonable. Okay, blood purity is important to you, and it is to me, or it was. I don't know. But I do know, that when I was with the Weasleys, they ate dinner together, every night. Mrs. Weasley cooked it, herself. Mr. Weasley hugged his children. He kissed them. He asked them how their days went, and there was no right or wrong answer. He had no ulterior motive. He was genuinely interested. And I know you're not. Everything you say, everything you do, is cold and calculating and for your own good. But that's not what a family is. That's not what it should be," Avalon said. Tears were forming in her eyes. "When I was nine, I called you Dad instead of Father, and you told me it was too informal, too casual. I used to cry at night because some of my friends had two parents, and I only had one."
"You are an insolent brat!"
Avalon glared. "I'm not done. When Lucy used to live here, she was always your favorite. She was a charming, perfect student with impeccable manners, and she was also a prefect, a Quidditch player at one point, and Head Girl. The wonderful pureblood daughter you could be proud of, and show off to your friends. They probably all wanted you to sign her off to their sons in a stupid marriage contract. But you lost her, didn't you? You lost her to Charlie Weasley, and Molly, and Arthur. And I did too. But it's different for me, isn't it father? I lost time with her, I don't get as much attention from my sister as I used to. It's sad. But you… you lost her respect. Her love. When she chose to be with him, you knew it meant your precious princess would never view you the same way again. All the years of bashing that family, their mudblood-loving lifestyle that you could never take back. She could say nothing changed, she could say it until she was blue in the face, but you know that will never be true. You've always known it. And I'm all you have left. Sure, you'd never loved me when Lucy was around, but she's gone now. You can't lose two perfect pureblood daughters, can you father? So you resort to manipulation. You act like you care. Always trying to maintain control. But you don't have to worry about losing me. I was never yours to lose."
Each word was separated, spat like they left a bitter taste in his mouth. "How dare you!"
Avalon still didn't back down. "You're so against anyone who isn't like you, that you drive away those who are. What are you so afraid of?"
Time seemed to stand still. Isla was frozen in fear, hands covering her mouth as she watched everything unfold. Avalon couldn't move either. She was in shock. Where had the words come from? She had never spoken them aloud before, not even to Tinkle, or Daphne, or Neville, her biggest confidantes. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but whether they were due to sadness or anger, she would never know.
Edgar was the first to move. He was furious. And he told Avalon as much. But he didn't use his words. Instead, he closed the gap between them and struck her across the face. Hard. Avalon stumbled backwards and fell, slicing her arm on the coffee table as she went down. Blood poured.
"Avalon!" Isla cried. She rushed forward to her daughter, but Edgar held up his hand to her as well. This wasn't a threat to his wife, but the universal sign for 'stop.'
"You have one hour to pack your things," he told his daughter. "Make sure you take all of your school robes and supplies as well. I don't care where you go, but as of right now, I don't wish to see you."
Isla looked at her husband. "You're kicking our daughter out of the house? Edgar, you're not thinking rationally, please reconsider, I just—"
"Silence, Isla. Come." He stormed out of the room without bothering to check if the woman was following him. She always followed, and this would not be the exception.
"I'm sorry, Avalon."
With that, she was gone.
It was only once her father was long gone and she was in the safety of her room that she allowed herself to cry. After fifteen minutes of her alloted hour had passed, Tinkle and Misty came in, hiding from Edgar's wrath. They began to throw her things into a trunk while consoling the girl. "Where will you go?" asked Tinkle in a quiet voice.
"I'll ask Daphne's parents if I can stay with them until school starts, and by the time I come home, father will have probably calmed down," Avalon said. She kissed the tops of their heads and added her cauldron and scales to the trunk, followed by her wand. "Thank you both. Would you take me to the Greengrasses,' please?"
"Of course," said Misty.
They shared a group hug, all three crying at this point.
Avalon knew that despite her outburst to her father, and despite his incredibly violent reaction, he was not kicking her out for good. She would be back, and sooner than she cared to admit. Edgar Steele was many things, but he would eventually allow her back in. And Avalon?
She could still remember the Sorting Hat's words to her during her ceremony two years ago, the day she became a Slytherin. To the Hat, she was just another mind to read in a slew of eleven-year-olds, each class most likely blurring together. It probably wouldn't even remember saying them to her. But Avalon couldn't bring herself to forget. The words had hit her close to home as the Hat whispered them inside her head like a dark secret, one she had never had the heart to share, and probably never would.
You'd do anything to prove yourself to your father yes?
The Hat had shouted "SLYTHERIN" before Avalon could respond to the question, but she had thought about her answer many times since then.
She would do anything to prove herself to her father.
After all, it hadn't been her first slap.
And it wouldn't be her last.
A/N: I'm baaaaack! And with finals done, and me being graduated from high school (which I still can't believe), I'm going to be more frequent. This is one of the chapters I was sitting on for a while, one of the ideas that was floating around when I first started working on this story. As you can see, Avalon has a complicated relationship with her father. I'm looking forward to exploring that a little more. Anyway, the next chapter will see Avalon and friends returning back to Hogwarts for another year. Whooo! If you liked this chapter/the story so far, feel free to drop me a comment/favorite/follow/etc. If you hated this chapter/the story so far, feel free to drop me a comment/favorite/follow/etc. Enjoy!
I do not own Harry Potter or profit from this story at all. All recognizable content belongs to J.K. Rowling, the Queen.
