9 - Realisations
Tears poured down Minerva's face, she laid with Sebastian's body until it went cold, until she could no longer hold onto the fantasy that it had all been a dream, that she would wake in a few minutes, a few hours, and find him staring down at her with a silly grin on his face, the sun shining in through the window.
She cried until she could cry no more, until her eyes were red and puffy and would take a week to go down, and until she had wretched all the grief inside her into a wet puddle on the pillow and felt like a hollow, empty shell that would never, ever be full again.
"I stayed there for three weeks, very much a prisoner - if not from Jeromie and Sebastian's friends, loyal puppy dogs he had convinced that I had maliciously murdered their friend, then a prisoner of my own mind, or my own tortured grief and guilt, knowing that if I had not been so blind, Sebastian would still be alive. I was hollow, an empty shell, and since in essence I had killed him, I didn't even try to defend myself against the violent outbursts of his friends, their words or their fists, as they kept me locked up in my room and only gave me enough food to keep me alive. It was probably Jeromie who prevented them from handing me into the police. muggle law keepers, because he knew there would be an inquiry into Sebastian's death and it wasn't anything that could be solved with forensic silence. I really don't know how he convinced them, and at the time I was filled with too much apathy to care. As far as I know it, Jeromie is a muggle, but he knew about the keys workings from one of our books that must have been misplaced in one of their bookstores.
"He told me later, with a very satisfied smile on his face, that it had been he who had planted suggestions in the minds of others, that Sebastian and I had been making love, that I was deluded in some way, believing myself in possession of some kind of magical key. I remember the way his eyes roved my body as he told me that he had been watching. that night, and had seen me hand the key to Sebastian and tell him that I trusted him. He read me like a book, he anticipated every move I would make, from my suspicious nature to the fact that I would discard the key when I realised what it was doing to my lover. Lying on the floor like it was, it was anyone's to take. And once he had it on, there was only one way for me to retrieve it. And I would never do that.
"I tried to escape my room one day; used Alohamora on the lock. used a summoning charm on the key. of course it was protected against such things. Jeromie caught me, and that was when he snapped my wand. I felt like a part of me had died.
"I think it was three weeks later, almost a month after that first night together, that I discovered exactly what the extent of our lovemaking had been. It was instinct, I think, realising that something wasn't right, that my body wasn't going through the monthly cycle that it usually went through. I had always been one of those women whose bodies worked like clockwork, the same every month for all the years it had been happening. I don't really know how or why I came out of the depths of despair for long enough to notice that my body wasn't right, but it hit me like a lightening bolt, that I was suddenly living for two. My life had a sense of meaning again; there was something to live for. It was that knowledge that brought me back from the brink, that sense of responsibility. My actions had killed Sebastian, but there was still something of him left inside of me, some part of him that hadn't been destroyed when I had used the key. It became my reason for living - that even though I had failed him, I wasn't going to fail our child. But I was trapped.
"Once I began feeling again, I began to hate. I hated Jeromie for what he had done; I hated my aunt for not telling me that the consequences of using the key would be so horrible, so drastic. She could have told me that the key would destroy whatever it touched. It had destroyed Sebastian; it had destroyed everything that I was. I hated Sybil for not being good enough to be Keeper, that I was cursed with this treacherous little thing because of her failure. The only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that I had something growing within me - it was like my light in the dark, a flower blooming from ashes. My son, my daughter? Sebastian and I combined into one being.
"Three more months passed in a blur, I don't remember many details from them but the horror of living in fear, of knowing that the days only made Sebastian's friends hate me more - it manifested itself in their fists and their boots. I took blows to the face many, many times, curled in a ball to protect my stomach from their blows. I wouldn't let them kill my child, and I wouldn't let them kill me. I didn't know how I was going to ever get away, but I was determined to make a life for my child, somehow.
"But my duty as a mother was not my only one. My duty as Keeper Of The Key was even more sacred, because a Keeper with no morals had the power to destroy more lives than even he realised. A muggle with a magical artefact, who didn't understand its nature, it was more dangerous than my mind could comprehend. I knew, whatever happened, that I must retrieve the key, and I must escape.
"They say lightening never strikes in the same place twice, but I disagree, for it was like the electrical surge of knowledge that told me I was pregnant, and again when the first threads of an escape plan came to me. I grasped them tight, worked on them, and wove them into a plan that was so ludicrous it was almost possible.
Tears poured down Minerva's face, she laid with Sebastian's body until it went cold, until she could no longer hold onto the fantasy that it had all been a dream, that she would wake in a few minutes, a few hours, and find him staring down at her with a silly grin on his face, the sun shining in through the window.
She cried until she could cry no more, until her eyes were red and puffy and would take a week to go down, and until she had wretched all the grief inside her into a wet puddle on the pillow and felt like a hollow, empty shell that would never, ever be full again.
"I stayed there for three weeks, very much a prisoner - if not from Jeromie and Sebastian's friends, loyal puppy dogs he had convinced that I had maliciously murdered their friend, then a prisoner of my own mind, or my own tortured grief and guilt, knowing that if I had not been so blind, Sebastian would still be alive. I was hollow, an empty shell, and since in essence I had killed him, I didn't even try to defend myself against the violent outbursts of his friends, their words or their fists, as they kept me locked up in my room and only gave me enough food to keep me alive. It was probably Jeromie who prevented them from handing me into the police. muggle law keepers, because he knew there would be an inquiry into Sebastian's death and it wasn't anything that could be solved with forensic silence. I really don't know how he convinced them, and at the time I was filled with too much apathy to care. As far as I know it, Jeromie is a muggle, but he knew about the keys workings from one of our books that must have been misplaced in one of their bookstores.
"He told me later, with a very satisfied smile on his face, that it had been he who had planted suggestions in the minds of others, that Sebastian and I had been making love, that I was deluded in some way, believing myself in possession of some kind of magical key. I remember the way his eyes roved my body as he told me that he had been watching. that night, and had seen me hand the key to Sebastian and tell him that I trusted him. He read me like a book, he anticipated every move I would make, from my suspicious nature to the fact that I would discard the key when I realised what it was doing to my lover. Lying on the floor like it was, it was anyone's to take. And once he had it on, there was only one way for me to retrieve it. And I would never do that.
"I tried to escape my room one day; used Alohamora on the lock. used a summoning charm on the key. of course it was protected against such things. Jeromie caught me, and that was when he snapped my wand. I felt like a part of me had died.
"I think it was three weeks later, almost a month after that first night together, that I discovered exactly what the extent of our lovemaking had been. It was instinct, I think, realising that something wasn't right, that my body wasn't going through the monthly cycle that it usually went through. I had always been one of those women whose bodies worked like clockwork, the same every month for all the years it had been happening. I don't really know how or why I came out of the depths of despair for long enough to notice that my body wasn't right, but it hit me like a lightening bolt, that I was suddenly living for two. My life had a sense of meaning again; there was something to live for. It was that knowledge that brought me back from the brink, that sense of responsibility. My actions had killed Sebastian, but there was still something of him left inside of me, some part of him that hadn't been destroyed when I had used the key. It became my reason for living - that even though I had failed him, I wasn't going to fail our child. But I was trapped.
"Once I began feeling again, I began to hate. I hated Jeromie for what he had done; I hated my aunt for not telling me that the consequences of using the key would be so horrible, so drastic. She could have told me that the key would destroy whatever it touched. It had destroyed Sebastian; it had destroyed everything that I was. I hated Sybil for not being good enough to be Keeper, that I was cursed with this treacherous little thing because of her failure. The only thing that kept me sane was the knowledge that I had something growing within me - it was like my light in the dark, a flower blooming from ashes. My son, my daughter? Sebastian and I combined into one being.
"Three more months passed in a blur, I don't remember many details from them but the horror of living in fear, of knowing that the days only made Sebastian's friends hate me more - it manifested itself in their fists and their boots. I took blows to the face many, many times, curled in a ball to protect my stomach from their blows. I wouldn't let them kill my child, and I wouldn't let them kill me. I didn't know how I was going to ever get away, but I was determined to make a life for my child, somehow.
"But my duty as a mother was not my only one. My duty as Keeper Of The Key was even more sacred, because a Keeper with no morals had the power to destroy more lives than even he realised. A muggle with a magical artefact, who didn't understand its nature, it was more dangerous than my mind could comprehend. I knew, whatever happened, that I must retrieve the key, and I must escape.
"They say lightening never strikes in the same place twice, but I disagree, for it was like the electrical surge of knowledge that told me I was pregnant, and again when the first threads of an escape plan came to me. I grasped them tight, worked on them, and wove them into a plan that was so ludicrous it was almost possible.