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Cat and Mouse: The Chase
By Ela-chan

Exactly who's the cat, and who's the mouse?

Chapter Four

Mother and Daughter

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Around the hour passed midnight, I heard the closing of our massive front door after shrill goodbyes and tatas were exchanged.

Then – silence through the house.

I gave a sigh of relief.

Just about to roll over on my bed and catch some snooze when –

'Lillian J. Evans!'

Holy crud. She used the 'J.' She used it. She never uses it. Now she did. Uh oh.

'Come down here this instant!'

I knew the peace and quiet wouldn't last long. I glared at everything in sight, violent images of that idiot being boiled, quartered, barbequed and whatnot running through my head.

I just know what I'm in for. A good telling off, a really severe punishment and the usual bad things triple fold.

All thanks to James sodding Potter.

I wondered dully if I could just jump out of my window to get away from that woman.

For a moment, I considered hexing my mother into a harpy with a fetish for corn, but I knew that wouldn't go too well with her. She'd probably peck at me and imagine me as corn on the cob 'til I turn her back.

Spiffing Mother, I have, really.

Absolute corker of a woman.

I sighed as I gathered myself up lethargically, taking as much time as I could without purposely annoying Mother.

Now why would I want to do that …?

Opening the door, the possibility of cursing her into the next millennium popped into my head.

Nah. Wouldn't want any other unfortunate human being to know someone like her ever existed.

'How dare you behave as you did back there?!' she hollered, catching site of me the instant my foot descended the first step. Strands of her red hair – I'm an exact replica of my mother, trust me – were starting to fall from that impossibly tight bun of hers, and she was pointing at me, as if accusing me of murder or something.

'What they must think of you! You were absolutely appalling!'

Oh, forgive me, almighty one. Spare me from the rusted cork screws.

I rolled my eyes inwardly, only just managing to hide the grin threatening to appear.

She waited for me to sit myself on the dining table. I took my time doing that, too, careful to avoid Mother's narrowed eyes.

When I did sit, she proceeded to holler at me, practically foaming at the mouth. She is so lucky I can hold my equal temper when it came to her rants about how bad of a daughter I am. If I didn't have dad's self control trait, I'd've strangled her a long time ago with my bare hands, then kicked her in the gut when she was down.

'And James – he must think you as a farmer's pig!'

I don't think she saw the irony of saying this. Her? A farmer?

My head snapped up sharply, an odd glint suddenly appearing in my eye. Mother seemed unperturbed.

'The way you were behaving around him. I'm ashamed to be your mother!'

'Yeah, well,' Lily said savagely, unable to bite her tongue down any longer. 'Why don't you all do us a favour and end your misery by jumping off the garden cliff?'

Mother visibly sputtered at that, completely caught off guard, as she was not used to my answering back whenever her ranting feasts began.

This night's going to be longer than I expected.

After mother had gotten over the fact that I had the spine to answer back, she advanced on me like a vulture ready to tear apart its prey, limb from limb, and muscle from muscle. I refused to gulp down the fear welling in my chest. So this is the reason why I was afraid of my own mother.

She had my temper.

I think I may die tonight. I wonder if I could have my grave littered with red roses and white lilies like James –

James.

The moron. He's the cause of all this! Gods, how I would love to wring that filthy neck of his. Make him splutter out mercy and make him not ever so much as speak or look at me ever flipping again.

'What,' Mother seethed through gritted teeth, her manic emerald eyes flashing dangerously as she stared me down condescendingly, 'did you say?'

I couldn't help it. I recoiled and gulped.

'Oh, heh. Did I say something?,' I squeaked out, breaking her gaze and looking to the floor, something close to shame seeping through me. 'N-Nothing, Mother.'

She placed her fingers under my chin and tilted my head up so sharply a few bones cricked. I winced.

'Do not lie to me, child,' she snarled, her perfect, pearly teeth glinting evilly in the lighting. 'What did you say?'

I could see Father out of the corner of my eye, watching me helplessly. We both knew he could do nothing whenever Mother started to abuse me like this. The only thing he could do was watch and see what the outcome would be like. He was usually the one who comforted me after Mother had spat out her anger all over me.

I couldn't answer Mother's question. The anger glazing in her eyes was too much for me stand. I felt my eyes start to sting, due to me refusal of having to cry in front of her, showing her the weak spot she had always affected within me. She knew I hated being accosted like this. But still, she did it.

I love the woman, I honestly do. But sometimes, her temper – our temper – gets the best of her when it involves having to look good before others.

Her cold hands let my face go, her eyes softening ever so slightly when she saw the lone tear spring from my eye. I hastily wiped it away and looked back at Mother. She stood in front of me, scowling slightly with one of her hands resting on her slender hips.

I mumbled an apology, casting my gaze to the ground again, feeling nothing but remorse and the like over my behaviour tonight. She had a way to make me feel like everything was my fault; that it was I who made her snap at me like this.

In a way, most of the time, I believed it was so.

'Go to bed, Lillian,' she said evenly a moment later, pointing a delicate finger up the stairs. I stood shakily and nodded, stepping tentatively towards her. She leant forward a planted a soft kiss on my forehead. Even though she was furious with me, she had always found time to show her love for me.

Maybe I did have a reason to love Mother.

'Good night, daughter,' she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I bowed my head and climbed the stairs as fast as my trembling legs could carry me. I hugged father on the way. He kissed me too, and hugged a little longer than necessary.

Strange how emotions could get the better of you sometimes. Even stranger that love could squeeze its way through anywhere.

--

I spent most of the night thinking the evening over.

From the introduction, the dinner, James, Mother, Father, the garden, James, my fleeing, Mother, feelings … James.

I glared at the ceiling.

Everything seems to start with him.

James. James James

Bloody James.

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