The Eighth Year Universe
Love Wins
May These Memories Break Our Fall
The chapter title comes from the song:
Long Live – Taylor Swift.
Potter Manor
A few hours after Daphne left with Lareina and Thea, Harry told Neville that he had to go.
"Why?" Neville asked, looking up from the appeal for the Prophet that Theo had asked him to read over.
"Because Rob is a recovering alcoholic, and I haven't seen him since the attack," Harry replied darkly, "He knew all those people who he pulled out of the Closes, Nev. Those bodies were people who he'd known their whole life and…I know what that feels like."
Neville reached over and gripped Harry's shoulder, "I know you do," he said softly.
Harry shook his head and looked up at Neville, "I nearly relapsed when I first got home from Diagon Alley, I would have if it weren't for you. I still feel on edge, Neville…and this is so much rawer for Rob."
Neville nodded, "I get it. Have you spoken to Jen?"
"Yeah, I floo-ed her," Harry replied. He rubbed his eyes, "She said he had been quiet, but he seemed okay until he went out for a walk last night. She's checked all the local pubs, but she can't find him. I think I know where he is, though."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
Harry shook his head, "No, you stay here in case one of the kids need you. I'll be fine. I've handled a drunken Rob before."
Neville nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "I'm the one telling everyone else we're going to get through this, but are we?"
"We have to hope that we will," Harry said honestly, "Because without hope, what else do we have?"
He left the room then, leaving Neville to contemplate that.
The Hogs Head
Harry shook his head and made a face as the stench of alcohol, sick and death invaded his nostrils. He stepped over a sticky puddle on the floor and stopped at the bar, which Rob's head was currently resting against.
"Trust you to pick the worst bar in the country to get hammered in," Harry muttered.
Rob groaned and asked, "What you doin' here?"
"Well, as your sponsor, I'm here to punch you in the face, proverbially," Harry replied.
"After you've drunk this, obviously."
Rob opened one bleary, blood-shot eye, "What's that?"
"Sobering up potion."
With a scoff, Rob pushed himself off the bar, "I don't wanna be sober," he said, and to his credit, he was barely slurring his words.
Harry sighed and watched Rob hobble through the bar, out the door into the brightly lit street outside. He followed the older man and fell into step with him as they headed in the direction of the Shrieking Shack.
"I'm not surprised you relapsed," Harry admitted, "Like I said before, shitty things tend to trigger it, but I had hoped you'd last longer than this."
"Yeah, well, least I didn't try and destroy a forest," Rob muttered, "I just drank a fucking bar."
"Which I hope you're good for, by the way, because that crazy guy who chases tabs for Abe will literally cut your body parts off and sell them to pay off your debt," Harry pointed out.
"Soulless Sal? Nah, he's harmless. I was playing poker with him all night."
"Soulless Sal," Harry mouthed to himself. He shook his head and took a few more steps to catch up with Rob
Rob muttered, "Abe's dead, the bars gonna get steamrolled anyway. We were drinking our way through the stock."
Harry sighed, "I know. But still, harmless doesn't seem like the right word for someone whose earned the nickname 'soulless', Rob."
Rob grunted and sat down on the bench that looked out over the field towards the Shrieking Shack.
Harry sat down next to him and sighed, "It was hard for all of us, Rob."
Rob shook his head, "You're maybe the only one who gets it, kid. Those people I pulled out weren't just nameless faces. I could name them all, every single fuckin' one!"
"I know," Harry said quietly.
Rob sighed, "I got called out one snowy night in 1997 to find one of those infamous 'fallen women' in labour, and it was too late to get her to the hospital. I sweet-talked her neighbours into letting me use her flat so that the damn baby wasn't born in a close in the dead of fuckin' winter. Then I moved some rubble aside the other night, and I found Cereus James and her husband Mark, the two who let those babies come into the world safely."
Rob stared straight ahead furiously, "It was twins, and it was a damn miracle they both survived. She was called Freya, that fallen woman. I've honestly never met a nicer person, Harry. She was 18, called her kids Minnie and Mollie, said she spelt Minnie that way because it was like Minnie Mouse. She was a Muggle-born who ended up working in the Closes because her parents died in her seventh year, so she flunked her N.E.W.T's, and she didn't want to go back to the Muggle world. She sold herself to sick bastards who made her fuck them without protection because she was so desperate to be a part of this world."
"It's not right," Harry said, his own voice choked.
Rob let his head fall into his hands. He sat like that for a moment before looking up. His eyes seemed redder than before.
"Freya died two years later in childbirth with her son, Micah. He's all that's left now cause I remember the day those baby girls were born. I'd never delivered a baby before, and I delivered two that night. Then a couple of days ago, I pulled those two girls out of what was left of Madam Puddifoots. So don't tell me the universe has a fuckin' plan cause I stopped believing in God and the universe a long time ago."
Harry nodded and said nothing. He wasn't so sure the universe had a plan anymore either. None of this felt fair, and none of it made any sense.
His head was still in his hands when Rob spoke again, so his voice was muffled.
"I worked CPS for 25 years. Those people are my people."
Harry reached over and gripped Rob's shoulder, "I know they are, Rob."
They were quiet for a moment, then Harry spoke again, "I put so many kids in Lupin House that you would think their names would escape me over the years. But I remember all of their names. I can see their faces when I close my eyes. I know what their favourite colours were. I know what they dreamed of doing when they left Hogwarts. Not all of them got to Hogwarts, but I got them into good Muggle schools so they could build themselves a life. And I did everything I could for the ones who did go to Hogwarts."
Harry took a shaky breath, "They were the ones we were able to save, and I'll never forget a name or a face. Pulling some of those kids out of that rubble…it was like they were my kids."
His voice broke, but Harry stared straight ahead and listed them anyway, "Alfie McCarthy, he was young when his fallen woman of a mother died, and we took him and his big sister Callie to Lupin House. His girlfriend died too, and their two-year-old daughter. They were shielding the cot, but…they ran out of oxygen before I could get to them."
Rob reached over and patted Harry's knee as the younger man continued.
"Eleanor Travers was 8 when we got her into Lupin House. Her brother, Elliot, was barely 10. They had been neglected by the old woman who had taken them in after their mother died. It took weeks to gain their trust, even longer to get them physically healthy. But Elliot became a lawyer, and Eleanor married her high school boyfriend. Then I…I pulled her and her husband and their two sons out of the ice cream parlour wreckage."
Rob swallowed, and Harry's eyes hardened.
"Natalie Hill, she was a Healer. She always wanted to be one, she first told me that when she was six," Harry said, ignoring the tears he could feel burning at his eyes, "She was 24 and a single mother; her boyfriend was in and out of jail. When I found her…her wand was broken, and she had used her own body as a shield, she was bleeding to death over her daughter's cot."
Harry shook his head, "She begged me to stop the pain, so I did, and that little girl is as good as an orphan now."
Rob didn't want to hear anymore, but he knew he had to. As hard as this was, it was closure.
"Skyla Knott. She came to Lupin House in 2001 with the most tragic story," Harry choked out, "Her older sister died in a fire, then a year later, her mother killed herself. Skyla was five years old when she came to us; she didn't speak for six months. Ginny was the one who got through to her in the end, managing to get her talking about the - " Harry's voice broke, " – the Harpies, and now she's dead. She had so much promise, working for Prospero, she could have been the future of Ollivander's, and she's gone, just like that."
Rob actually drew Harry into a hug. Harry stiffened up a little but didn't pull away.
"Polly May," Rob said in a strained voice, "She was a babe in arms in 2000 when we took her in. Mum was a squib, we were damn sure that she would be too, but you still got her a job at the Apothecary."
Harry drew back, his eyes still dark, "The Apothecary that she died in."
"That ain't on you," Rob said firmly, "The 21 years of life that girl got, the education she got at the Hermione Granger School, that's on you but her death? It ain't, Harry."
Harry shook his head as if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe Rob's words.
"Skye Day and Ivy-Rose Hall. They were roommates at Lupin House. They were as close as sisters, then they went to Hogwarts and stayed that close. They got a flat together, and they died."
Harry took a step away from Rob, "May Hart, she was only 13, she was going to cure lycanthropy because a werewolf was the reason she became an orphan, but she's dead."
Rob watched Harry carefully, despite this intervention initially being the opposite way around.
"And Levi Strang," Harry's voice cracked, "19 years old. He was a misguided kid, but he'd just become a father."
"I know," Rob cleared his throat, "I found him and his girlfriend in the rubble. They died trying to save their son; he wasn't even a year old.
Harry shook his head, and Rob could have sworn that his eyes flashed red, "I want to drink myself into a stupor so that I can forget those names, but I also want to fucking kill whoever did this. And I can't do that if I'm a drunk, Rob, so that thought is keeping me sober, and maybe it can help keep you sober too."
Rob just nodded.
Harry rubbed his eyes, "Drinking your life away isn't going to bring any of them back, Rob. I think there must be more alcohol than blood in your veins, but somehow, you're still functioning."
Rob shrugged, "I'm Irish."
Harry knew it was a joke, designed to deflect the attention away from the situation. But he didn't buy into it. He knew Rob too well these days to fall for that.
"You have a wife," Harry said softly, "You have two kids, and you're going to be a grandad soon. Count your blessings, Rob. Merlin knows that I am."
Rob nodded, and Harry placed his hand on the other man's back, "Take the sober up potion and have coffee with me?"
Rob took the vial of sober up potion with a reluctant sigh, but he did take it. Once he had knocked it back, he looked over at Harry and asked, "Who's buying this coffee? My friend or my sponsor?"
"Your friend," Harry promised.
Bones Manor
"Why does it feel like the world is ending?"
Susan sighed and shifted in Caroline's arms, "It does that a lot."
Caroline wrapped her arms around Susan a little more tightly. They were on a sofa in the drawing-room; the fire in front of them was flickering away happily.
"How do you keep your chin up?" Caroline asked in a whisper, "After all you've been through and all of the things you have seen….I can feel your pain, Susan."
Susan smiled weakly, "The curse of being an empath."
Caroline sighed and shuffled over so that she could actually look at Susan, "I mean it. I can feel the weight of your pain all of the time, but you keep going."
Susan shook her head and looked into the fire, "I just keep going. It's as simple as putting one foot in front of the other until it becomes muscle memory. I never forget, but I move on because I have to."
Caroline was silent for a moment. The only sound that filled the room was the fire as it crackled softly.
Susan looked up from the fire at the photograph of Percy with Addison and Alyssa; they were all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. It was the last photograph that had been taken before his death. Her tiny daughters waved out of the photograph at her, and Percy smiled vibrantly. Susan felt as sad as she did content, she missed him every day, but Caroline made her happy.
Caroline felt the shift in her emotions and moved her hand into Susan's.
"Let's get married."
Caroline's face was a picture. It would have been funny if all of this wasn't so sad.
Susan pushed herself up and spun around to look at Caroline, whose eyes were wide as she stared at her girlfriend in disbelief.
"The world keeps trying to end," Susan said. She reached out and grabbed Caroline's hands, "But it never does. Someone always saves it, and it keeps turning, but life is so short, Caroline. I always said I wouldn't marry again, not after Percy, but I love you, so let's get married."
Caroline swallowed a lump in her throat, "I…I love you too, Susan, but it's usually not best to make decisions when you're mourning - "
"I'm not," Susan cut in.
Caroline gave her a searching look, "Your best friend lost her husband, a man who was like a father to your children. Susan, you are mourning, whether you admit it or not."
Susan sighed and cocked her head at Caroline, "Okay, so I am mourning. But I've been thinking about this for a while, Caroline. The world keeps trying to end, and when it does, families fall apart, and people die. Life is too short to waste it being scared to try again, so will you marry me?"
Caroline looked at Susan for a long moment, then her voice came out in a whisper, "Are you serious about this?"
Susan bit her lip and nodded. For the first time, it crossed her mind that maybe Caroline didn't want to get married.
But then Caroline smiled and nodded, moving her hands out of Susan's to rest a hand against Susan's cheek.
"Yes."
"Yes?" Susan echoed.
Caroline smiled a little more widely, "Yes, I'll marry you."
A grin broke out across Susan's face, and she closed the gap between them, drawing Caroline in for a kiss that said what words couldn't.
Ivy House
Thursday 2nd September
The Longbottom trio were very quiet. It was the first thing that Linda had noticed when they came into the house. Neville had been very appreciative that she had offered to take them in for a few days. He had downed a cup of tea and given her a very long list of things he had promised to help with.
Linda had put a hand on his shoulder and said, "You mind and not let all that overwhelm you though, love."
Neville had taken a breath and promised that he wouldn't. Then they talked about Lilly and how she had started her physical therapy now. After that, Neville had left, and of course, Michael was working overtime, so it was just Linda, Grace, and the three Longbottom children.
She'd barely been able to get a word out of Laurel before the girl headed up to the spare room she slept in when she was here. James and Harry had stuck around, but they hadn't been saying much, and Linda eventually found out why when James dragged himself into the kitchen later in the day.
"Can I help with the cooking, Granny?"
"Sure, love," Linda said, nudging her head towards a pile of vegetables, "You could start by cutting up that onion for me."
James nodded and grabbed a knife. They fell silent until Linda started humming along to the song that was playing in her head; it was something by Bowie, she thought.
There was a sniff from her side, and she glanced over at James.
"It's them onions, ain't it?" She asked because boys didn't want to admit that they cried.
James nodded and sniffed again.
"Suppose you're finding it hard though, ain't you? With all that happened in Diagon Alley the other day?"
With another sniff, James nodded, "I just don't get why good people had to die, but bad people get to live."
Linda thought about that for a minute and then said, "Well, there's a reason for everything in this life, Jamie. You know, maybe this old story that my Gramps told me will help."
James looked along at her, his eyes red, "Yeah?"
Linda nodded and launched into the story, "He'd say – it all started one night when a farmer and a teacher, a hooker and a preacher were all riding on a midnight bus, bound for the coast."
James abandoned the onion he was cutting, and Linda wiped her hands on her apron.
"One was headed for vacation, one for higher education and two of them were searching for lost souls," Linda continued. Her east end accent, which was a lot more subtle since she had married Michael, suddenly seemed more broad as she recalled the story her very east end grandfather had told her.
"That driver ran a red light, and a big bus like that can't just pull an emergency stop," Linda said with a shake of her head, "So there were three wooden crosses on the side of the road, and why there weren't four of them, heaven only knew."
Linda smiled at James, "Gramps always said, 'I guess it ain't what you take when you leave this world behind you. It's what you leave behind you when you go."
James frowned, "What does that mean?"
Linda smiled nostalgically, "That's what I asked him, the first time he told me that story, and he told me, 'That farmer left a harvest, a home and the faith and love for growing things, in his young son's heart. That teacher left her wisdom in the minds of lots of children and did her best to give them all a better start. That preacher whispered can't you see the promised land? As he laid his bloodstained bible in that hooker's hand."
James cocked his head at Linda, who finished, "And my Gramps, he was a preacher too. Devout roman catholic, he was so disappointed when I got pregnant young, it broke his heart more than my parents, I reckon."
Linda sighed and looked at James, "When I was a little girl, I got dragged along to his church services all the time. One Sunday, he held up that bloodstained bible for everyone to see, and he told that story. He said, 'Bless the farmer and the teacher, and that preacher. Who gave that bible to my mother, who read it to me. There were three wooden crosses on the side of that road. Why there weren't four of them, now I guess we know. It's not what you take when you leave this world behind you. It's what you leave behind you when you go."
James smiled a little tearfully, "Is that story true?"
"Oh, probably not," Linda said with a wave of her hand, "He was a great one for drama, my Gramps. Loved a good story. Chances are someone stabbed him in a fight at the pub, and the bible in his coat pocket saved his life, then he spun a morality tale out of it."
James laughed despite himself, and Linda smiled, "Good sentiment though, ain't it? The hooker was the only one who lived even though she was the one who didn't deserve to by most people's logic. Then her son went on to change the world, and get in a lot of pub fights, but you get the hint."
James nodded and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, "The point is that everything happens for a reason, even if we can't see that reason right now."
"Exactly," Linda said. She reached over and ruffled James's hair, "Like your mum. Broke her heart when Ron Weasley broke up with her, but she'd never have realised your dad was in love with her if he hadn't. The big man, if he exists, he's got a plan."
James nodded again and stepped forward to hug her, "Thanks, Granny."
Linda kissed him on the head in response.
Bones Manor
As Susan had expected, Sorenson had been as organised as Percy. His will would be read after the funeral, which would take place on Sunday. Sadie had asked Lotus to wait until then so that she had time to tell Almina what had happened. She knew her eldest daughter would want to go to her Uncle's funeral, after all.
Still, some of Sorenson's belongings were due to be released by the goblins in Gringotts a little earlier. On the morning when said belongings were released, Addison and Alyssa finally spoke to Susan about everything that had happened.
Clara, Josie and Cora were still staying at the manor. Cassie and Oscar had taken Sage home, but they were in and out frequently. Susan made sure of it because she wasn't convinced Oscar was eating enough at home.
Caroline was in the shower when the two girls traipsed into the bedroom in their pyjamas. Susan looked up at their tear-stained cheeks and patted the bed with a sigh.
Alyssa climbed straight under the covers and hugged her mother, but Addison was a little more reserved. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her hands.
"Are you girls ready to talk about it?" Susan asked gently.
"No," Addison said. Her voice was strained, "I don't know if I'll ever be ready to talk about it, Mum. Edith is so calm, but so many people are dead!"
"Edith isn't calm, sweetheart," Susan said honestly, "She knows how to appear that way on the outside, but I saw her breaking down to her mum after the Daily Prophet article came out. Some of us can just shield our feelings better than others."
Addison frowned, and Susan smiled sadly, "And that's not a bad thing. It's refreshing to see a Bones girl wear their heart on their sleeve. Mine was always so guarded, and my Aunt Amelia's too."
Addison looked down and shook her head, "I just don't know what to do anymore. How can I just go back to my boring job in the DMLE when so many people who were making a difference in the world died? Reeva and Alfie were my friends, they got together at the Yule Ball in sixth year, and they had a baby. Everyone said they'd split up, but they didn't, and Alfie was going to be an Auror and Sienna…."
She broke off tearfully, "Sienna and her whole family died! She was so kind. She was in Hufflepuff, and we shared a dorm for seven years. Mum, she was the first person I came out to, and when I did, she just said, 'So does that mean your gonna marry a girl then?' and when I said yeah, she promised she'd dance so hard at my wedding."
Susan knew what friendships like that felt like – it was similar to her friendship with Hannah that had been broken by time and circumstances. But also to her friendship with Daphne, which nothing had ever broken.
"Come here, sweetheart."
Addison let her mum hug her, and Alyssa sniffed sadly.
"I wish I could bring Cora's dad back for her," Alyssa whispered.
That broke Susan's heart. She knew how close Cora and Alyssa were. They were the same age, in the same year and house at Hogwarts – they were both Ravenclaws, Cora like her mother and Alyssa because she was so like Percy that it hurt sometimes.
"I know you do, baby," Susan said. Her throat felt tight, and she couldn't help but flashback to the Battle of Hogwarts or the aftermath of it at least. Because that was what this was for this generation – it was a life-changing event that affected every single person in their world, somehow or other.
"Susan!"
Clara's voice called up the stairs. It sounded steady enough, but Susan heard the slight quiver, and she got to her feet.
"Yeah?"
"The goblins have brought the things…."
Susan swallowed and nodded at her daughters, "Get dressed and head downstairs. The Cauldwell girls are going to need us today, all three of them."
Addison and Alyssa both nodded, and ten minutes later, they convened in the drawing-room. Just as Susan walked in, Oscar and Cassie arrived through the fireplace.
Clara looked over and frowned, "Where's Sage?"
"With my sister," Cassie replied. She steered Oscar into a seat and looked at the small pile of letters and envelopes on the table.
"Are those…"
"His goodbyes to us?" Clara finished. She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded.
Oscar didn't say anything, so Susan stepped forward, "Do you want me to give them out?"
Clara nodded in response, so Susan handed letters to Clara, Josie and Cora. Then she gave Oscar an envelope containing a vial full of silvery liquid.
He frowned down at it initially. Susan squeezed his shoulder and told him, "It's a memory, Oscar."
That had made Oscar's frown deepen, "But why would I get a memory when you all get letters?"
Clara smiled a little sadly at her stepson, "Because your dad wanted to tell you in person who your birth mother is. This was his insurance policy, in case he died before he had that chance."
Oscar's eyes widened, then he swallowed hard. Cassie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
"There's a pensieve in my study upstairs," Susan said gently, "Feel free to use it."
Oscar pulled away from Cassie and nodded, rubbing his eyes hastily.
"I'll go with you," Cassie murmured.
Oscar shook his head and let go of her hand, "I think this is something I need to do on my own."
Cassie nodded and took a step back. Then Oscar left before watching Clara and his half-sisters open their letters and fall apart. He was barely keeping it together himself. He couldn't watch that.
His heart felt like it was in his throat the whole way up. But when he reached Susan's study and pulled the pensieve out, he took a steadying breath and nodded to himself.
He had waited a long time to hear this story; he was ready.
So Oscar popped the cork off the vial, poured the memory into the pensieve then dunked his head in.
Silver smoke swirled around him for a few moments until the scene settled. He was in the kitchen of Selwyn Park, the home he had moved into when his father married Clara. His father was sitting at the table in front of him, looking as nervous as Oscar felt.
"Sit down, Oscar."
Oscar jumped, but then he remembered that this was a memory. His dad had just set it up to look like a conversation. Still, he was gesturing at the seat opposite him, so Oscar sat down in it and looked across the table at his father.
Sorenson sighed, "If you're here, then that means I died young, or I died old, and I was always too scared to tell you this story in person. If that's the case, I'm sorry, and I hope you never have to sit through this memory."
Oscar swallowed and looked down.
"I kept your mother's identity a secret for a very long time," Sorenson admitted, "To protect you, but also to protect her."
That made Oscar frown and look up. His father was staring resolutely ahead, fixated on the chair he'd told Oscar to sit in.
"If the truth came out, she would lose her job," Sorenson continued quietly, "And maybe even go to Azkaban. She doesn't deserve that, Oscar. Although she couldn't be the mother you wanted and needed, she is not a bad person."
Oscar swallowed and nodded as if his father could hear him.
Sorenson sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, "When I was in fifth year, this new teacher started, and she was pretty young. She looked fresh out of school herself. It turned out she was actually 20, but still."
He shrugged and shook his head, "I had a crush on her for a couple of years, but it was stupid because she was a teacher. Then in my seventh year, something changed."
Sorenson paused and leant back in his chair, "I got a bit big-headed, I suppose. I'd been a Prefect for a couple of years. I was Captain of the Quidditch Team. I felt like I could do anything."
Oscar knew where this was going now, and he was completely baffled.
"I was walking back from Quidditch practise one night," Sorenson said, shaking himself out of his thoughts to move the story along a little, "I took a detour to clear my head, and she was at the top of the Astronomy Tower. It was September so it was really cold and she asked me if I wanted tea. I didn't see the harm so I had tea with her and we talked. Then we kept bumping into each other, I took a detour past her quarters after practice on purpose, and I'm pretty sure she worked that out. She was smart, a Ravenclaw, like Clara."
Sorenson frowned and paused for a moment, "We got closer, then one night in October, it went farther. She immediately regretted it because she was my teacher even though I was 17. There were all sorts of things that could happen, she could be fired, disgraced, and criminal charges could be brought against her name."
He swallowed, "It was so stupid of me not to realise that. She said it couldn't happen again, so it didn't, and I stayed away from her quarters for the rest of the year. I didn't take her class at NEWT level, so our interactions were limited, and I had to try my best not to catch her eye in the great hall or if we passed in the corridors. Then in early July, just after I had finished school, my mother woke me up with this unearthly scream one morning, and I ran down the stairs."
Sorenson had paled just thinking about the memory, and Oscar could understand why. He was mildly terrified of his grandmother too.
"There was this basket on the doorstep with a two-week-old baby in it," Sorenson said quietly. He looked across the table, "And it was you, Oscar. The only hint to who your mother was…was the blanket you were wrapped in. It was this velveteen navy blue blanket with stars and moons on it, and it looked just like the design on the curtains covering the doorway to the Ravenclaw common room."
Sorenson's voice broke, and he glanced down, "And I knew instantly before I even read the note. It didn't say much, just – His name is Oscar, I hope you understand why. I can't raise him, but I hope you can."
He took a minute to clear his throat, "That first night when she made me tea. She asked me what I liked reading, and we talked about Muggle poetry. She said she wanted a love that she would never forget, but that nothing good in her life ever seemed to last, so I said, 'some things are more precious because they don't last long'."
Sorenson took a steadying breath, "Which turned out to be true for her and me, anyway. It was a quote from 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' by Oscar Wilde, so she called you Oscar."
He raised a hand to wipe a few stray tears, "But anyway, that was that. I took you in, I thought my mother might kill me, but I did it. I went through Auror training and dealt with a teething baby and dirty nappies in the evenings, and I could not have done it without your grandparents. I had to leave you with them during the war, and by Merlin, Oscar, it was hard. But I sure as hell wasn't making a child then not sticking around to raise it."
Sorenson sighed, "I was angry at your mother at first. I hated her for a while, actually. Then I met Clara when you were a bit older, and she put a lot into perspective for me. I let it go, and I worried that she might eventually want to be a part of your life or that you might work it out. But she never asked, and you never did, so I just kept that secret under my belt like I had for years."
With a final shake of his head, Sorenson looked over at Oscar again, "Anyway, your mother is called Aurora Sinistra. She was the Astronomy professor when I was at school. Then when the Hermione Granger school opened, she moved into working with younger kids there. She never taught you, thankfully. But that's who she is, and honestly, I don't know how she will take it if you approach her. I don't know if you even want to. At the end of the day, that's up to you and…I'm sorry that you had to find out this way."
Sorenson cleared his throat, "But I just want you to know how proud I am of you and Cassie. You fell in love, you got the ring, went down on one knee, and I got to stand there proud as punch on your wedding day. Clara will tell you if you ask; I sobbed my bloody eyes out when you floo-ed to tell us that Sage had been born and she was doing okay. Being a father, then a grandfather, that's the most rewarding thing I've ever done, Oscar and I would do it all over again, exactly the same way."
He smiled tightly as if he was holding back a flood of tears.
"I love you, kiddo."
With that, the memory began to turn to silver whisps of smoke again, and Oscar blinked a few times and realised he was standing above the pensieve, gripping the desk for dear life with white knuckles.
When Oscar came back downstairs, Cassie moved toward him to hug him or offer some reassurance, but he shook his head and took a step away from her.
Hurt flashed through her eyes, but Oscar didn't notice. He threw some floo powder into the fireplace and said, "I have to talk to Aunt Sadie."
Before anyone could try to stop him, he was gone.
Cassie looked as hurt as she did affronted, but Clara looked up with tears running down her cheeks and shook her head.
"Cassie, don't follow him."
Cassie turned to look at Clara. The older woman wiped her eyes and took a breath to calm herself down, "Sorenson just told me who his mother was in this letter," she waved it offhandedly, "And it's a lot for Oscar, so just let him deal with that before you push the issue, trust me."
Cassie sighed but nodded. Her gaze shifted to Josie and Cora, who were both crying and hugging each other, having read their letters from their father.
Susan crossed the room and sat on the arm of the sofa, placing a hand on Clara's shoulder as she tried her best to hold it together, and Caroline caught Cassie's eye across the room.
Being a mental health healer, she could see when someone needed a break more than anything, so she said, "Tea?"
Cassie nodded and let out a relieved breath as she seized the chance to escape the room and all of its tension.
- TBC -
A/N: I took inspiration for Susan's proposal from Maya/Carina in Station 19!
