A Fabric of Marvels
By Zahri Seb Melitor
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.
Chapter 4: I Closed the Ward Door
I don't know why I was invited to the funeral. Yes, I'm in Gryffindor, and yes, I'm in the same dormitory as Ron. Yes, I once took Ginny to the Yule Ball. Yes, I was a member of the DA. But still, why am I here? I've never really met Mrs Weasley. Sure, I've seen her at King's Cross Station, and at Diagon Alley, but sightings aren't a real basis for a friendship, or detailed knowledge of her as a person.
Maybe it's because of the Ministry battle. Luna's here as well, but then, she grew up close by to the Weasleys. Seamus and Dean aren't here, nor are the girls in Ginny's dormitory. Colin's here, though, and Lee Jordan, and the rest of the old Quidditch team. Ginny's always seemed to have a soft spot for Colin, after their abysmal first year, and Lee's a close friend of the twins. Angelina, Alicia and Katie have all, at one time or another, gone out with one of the twins, and Oliver is, well, Oliver. The Weasley twins have claimed that he was such an important part of their lives, his presence was necessary, so he is also here, missing the start of Quidditch training for the twins' sakes.
Sometimes I wonder why Mum didn't die. It might have been easier on all of us, if they'd both just died that day. At least, then, I'd have an honourable reason for why I live with my Grandmother. Dead parents are not an unusual phenomenon in my generation. All adult wizards and witches know someone, and many have family members, who died in the war. Parents who were tortured to insanity and don't recognise you are different. They're still alive, and mine are the only ones who are currently in that position.
People who've been damaged like my parents usually die quickly. Fourteen years is an apparent record for survival. So, most kids my age have never known that people can be tortured to insanity, and even less know that they can survive. I also don't want people to pity me because of my parents. Too many of my relatives already do that. I found out that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny don't seem to, though. They respect my privacy, and never mention it.
Mum is saner than Dad, I think. Dad doesn't move much, but mostly just stares at the ceiling. Mum doesn't talk, but she can move around, and she responds to the presence of other people. I'm the only person she gives things to, however. She only gives me gum wrappers, lots and lots of them. Despite what Grandmother tells me, I've never thrown any of them out. I have them all, safe in a locked box, where Grandmother won't find and destroy them, because the sight of each one tells me that although Mum cannot recognise me, she is still my mother, and she is still giving me them. Why else does she not give them to any other person?
They tell me that Mum hid me from the Lestranges and Barty Crouch junior, in a cupboard. One doctor once told me, before Grandmother took him aside and 'spoke' to him, that Mum had cast a spell on me to dampen my unconscious access to my magic. It had probably been done so that I wouldn't give myself away to the Lestranges involuntarily, and that no one had been able to lift the spell ever since, as they didn't quite understand how it worked. All the other doctors rebutted the claim, telling me that he didn't know what he was talking about, and, at the time, I believed them. But in fifth year, when I started to consciously look for, and draw upon, my magic, to help me get through the exams, performing magic began to come more easily to me, and I found it easier to remember the spells that I had learnt or revised, when I had been concentrating on my magic. Now, I think that the doctor may have been right.
Just like Harry's mother saved his life, my mother saved mine. She did something that people don't quite fully understand, to keep me safe.
I can see Ginny snuggled up in Harry's arms, directly in front of me. Hermione, sitting to one side of me, has Ron's arm around her. Luna's on my other side, with jewel-bright eyes carefully watching the proceedings around us. As the two girls who know about my family seem to be otherwise occupied, I focus on Luna, shuffling closer to her. She lost her mother in an accident, as well. If I explain, maybe she won't laugh. Maybe, she'll understand.
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