Part Seventeen
Christmas Eve arrived swiftly at McKinnon Manor. The fireplace was alive with roaring flames, the great mantle decorated with a large wreath filled with blooming poinsettias. Angus and Verana McKinnon were in deep conversation with one another about the recent implementation of the Werewolf Registry, and how absolutely prudent it was to the survival of Wizarding-kind.
"If it were up to me," Verana sneered. "They'd all be eradicated by now. Half-breeds shouldn't have a place in this world. Shame on the Ministry for even allowing them to register."
Marden's lip curled in disgust at the statement, though no one was paying any attention to him. He sat across from his sister and brother-in-law. Marden looked up at Fleamont Potter, who said absolutely nothing, cutting a peice of pot roast. Fleamont, like the rest of the Potter family, were quite tolerant of...well everyone. Fleamont's father was very outspoken about Muggle rights, which Verana has picked up on once or twice. But Fleamont was smart enough to just listen to his mother-in-law and not argue. Marden glanced over to his sister Euphemia, who was glaring at her mother, but again, silent. The siblings then exchanged glances before continuing to eat.
Marden then glanced back up at the pair sitting across from him, smiled gently, knowing that his sister was with a man who made her happy and took care of her.
Despite their happy façade, the pair were having an incredibly difficult time conceiving. The Potter side of the family, while excited for the addition of a new family member, were not nearly as harsh with Fleamont as the McKinnons were with Euphemia.
But it wasn't anyone's fault, really. The McKinnon bloodline had become so inbred that it was really no surprise that Euphemia couldn't conceive. Each time Euphemia became pregnant, (which was few and far between), the fetus did not live past its fourth month. This was incredibly difficult for the both of them; Fleamont wanting nothing more than to be a father. Perhaps the only people to be blamed by this genetic mishap were the members of the Wizarding world who kept the tradition of inbreeding alive by continuing to marry cousins. And not the distant ones that lived in some far off, never-heard-of town. The first and second cousins whose parents were siblings. Too close for comfort.
Some families have even died off due to extreme birth defects and total infertility.
Nevertheless, Angus and Verana McKinnon were becoming increasingly impatient with the two, having absolutely no idea what the problem could possibly be. They tried everything with their daughter and son-in-law. Spells, potions, you name it, they tried it.
Now the conversation shifted to Euphemia and Fleamont, which was always a topic when they visited their parents.
"There has to be some sort of potion, something to increase fertility. I'm shocked no one has invented such a thing." Verana shook her head before placing her knife and fork on her empty plate.
"My father suggested a few things that might help." Fleamont then spoke up, taking a sip of wine. "Quite controversial, some might think, but they might work."
"Controversial how?" Angus now spoke up.
"Well, there are certain...healers, that specialize in women's reproductive health, and they might be able to give us some insight as to why we aren't conceiving." Fleamont offered gently, knowing his parents-in-law were too smart.
"You mean...doctors?" Verana said with a sigh. "Muggle doctors?"
"W-well, yes. Muggles use very scientific ways to try and plan when a woman is... best to have a child, all that sort of things." Fleamont then stopped himself before going into too much detail at the dinner table. "You get the picture."
"I do and I don't like it." Verana stated simply. "Wizarding uses are far superior than Muggle."
"Then why are they still trying after five years?" Marden spoke up, a very dangerous move to make.
Verana slowly turned her head to look at her son with absolute disdain. "Not surprising you'd say that."
"I think they should try any means if they want a child. What difference does it make? In the end they'll have a child, you'll have a grandchild, just like you want."
Verana then pointed her finger in Marden's face. "You have no right to speak, after the stunt you pulled all those years ago. I'm surprised your sister even speaks to you, let alone me. You better not still be seeing her."
"I'm not." Marden lied. Obviously he'd never tell anyone that he saw her again, even if it was just for a brief moment. "I haven't seen her in five years. And I don't think I'll ever see her. All thanks to you."
"Well, she made the right decision in ending things with you. For a Muggle, she wasn't all that stupid."
Marden's jaw clenched so hard he thought all of his teeth would crack and break. Ailene was brought up almost every single time he visited his parents, no matter how much he didn't want to see them. He resented them, especially his mother, for not putting stupid prejudices aside and accepting Ailene for who she was.
"There'll be no use of Muggle means to help bring a child into this world." Angus now spoke up, which silenced everyone, despite the nasty glances that everyone made towards each other.
"You'll just have to keep trying, that's all." Angus said, offering his daughter a gentle pat on the back. This didn't make Euphemia seem any better. She slowly stood and let out a soft, "excuse me" before exiting the dining hall. Silence filled the room again save for the crackling fire. Marden then stood and slowly left the hall in search for his sister, finding her in the washroom.
He knocked on the door gently
"I'll be out in a minute, love."
"It's me." Marden said, softly. He felt his heart break when he heard the crack in her voice. Marden turned the doorknob slowly and found Euphemia standing in front of the sink, her hands leaning on the sides with her head bowed.
"Why don't they understand?" She asked him.
"They've never understood anything." He said finitely to his sister. "They're only job was to bring us into the world. They never thought of raising us right or supporting us. They just made us. Why do you think we have more memories of our bloody house-elf than them?"
"The pain has been unbearable, Marden." She cried. "Each and every time I lose one. There's contractions, and blood and before I know it, it's gone. But they don't even care. They don't care how many times it takes for me to go through that." His sister cried, slowly leaning in to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulder, gently rubbing her upper back.
"I'm so sorry, Mia. You need to do what is best for you." Marden said softly, resting his cheek on her head. "Don't worry about what they think or say, if you want to go and see a Muggle doctor, than do so. I'm here for you, and I'll support any decision you make."
Soon Fleamont came by, Marden figured he didn't want to be at the table any longer alone with their parents. Marden left the two of them alone and returned to the table. There was silence, his mother with her fingers intertwined and covered her thin lips as her elbows supported her. Her eyes followed Marden as he grabbed his traveling cloak and draped it back around his shoulders.
"You really ought to think about the things you say. And the hurt you cause." Marden said simply, to both of his parents, before leaving the house. He caught his mother's furious expression, but he left the house before he could hear anymore of her hurtful words that she could throw at him.
He quickly Apparated to Diagon Alley, where he went for a spot to drink. He sat for a very long time, no one bothering him since most of the bar was empty save for Tom the barman and a few lonely souls, just like him. Despite the flashy lights and decorations, it was a rather sullen night. He downed one, two, three glasses of Firewhiskey, his thoughts becoming a blur but he only thought of the love of his life. She was probably off with friends, and he could just picture her in a beautiful cocktail dress, a glass of wine in her hands. Her lips were stained with cherry red, her eyes smokey and her hair perfectly curled. She probably danced with all sorts of boys before opening presents. Around her neck were a strand of perfectly shimmering pearls. The same ones he gave her five years ago for Christmas.
He got nothing. Absolutely nothing but a broken heart.
Merry fucking Christmas, the alcohol invaded his thoughts. He found himself walking down the street on the Muggle side, and his feet led him to the dance hall where she would sing every Saturday night.
"Closed for Christmas.
Special New Year's eve show on Thursday! Bring your Sweetheart and dance 1953 goodbye!
Our Special guests include:
Singing duo Janet and Conrad Layton
The Gorgeous Ms. Sophie Goodson
Heartthrob Mr. Kirk Conover
The Dazzling Ms. Ailene Hastings
And with a very special guest!
Victor Young
Marden now had plans for New Year's eve.