Using the prompt 'potato'
Chapter Seven
The evening was solemn with everyone lost in their own thoughts. Molly had prepared a roast dinner for them all, but barely anyone had touched the food.
Hugo hadn't even been in the mood to eat roast potatoes – something that he loved and would always request upon coming to the Burrow.
Everyone was gathered at the table which had been magically enlarged to fit them all. There was George and Angelina at one end, trying to settle their young children. Fred and Roxanne were too young to understand anything that had happened. Roxanne was barely able to talk yet. They were running between family members, trying to find someone to play with them and would get quite upset when they were repeatedly told no. No one was in the mood for laughing and smiling and pretending to have a good time today.
Percy and Audrey sat nearby, neither of them saying a word. Percy was the brother his dad had been the least close to. They hadn't disliked each other by any means, but they certainly hadn't gotten along very well.
Percy was the type of person who put work and education before any kind of fun. He encouraged Molly and Lucy to study and read all through the holidays and would only allow them out of the house once he was satisfied they had done enough work.
Hugo's dad was the complete opposite. He thought the holidays were for resting and relaxing and would get quite frustrated with Rose when she insisted on reading up on the next year's subjects to stay on top of it all. He would always tell her she was too much like her mother in that aspect and would try to coax her out onto the homemade Quidditch pitch.
Not that Rose's idea of fun was Quidditch, but it had to be better than studying during the holidays, surely? Hugo rarely picked up a book at school; he sure as hell wasn't going to look at one when he didn't have to.
Beside Percy was Hugo, his sister, and some of his cousins. James – who had inherited George's sense of humour – was trying to crack jokes to an unamused audience. Hugo knew he was only trying to make everyone feel better, but he really wished his cousin would give up. Normally James was able to make them all laugh, but not on a day like this. As much as he tried, no one batted an eyelid at him. Not even Lily, who normally laughed hysterically at her brother's misbehaving ways.
Everyone else sat at the other end and there was very little conversation. Hugo remembered times where he would have to raise his voice louder than he liked to be heard over the loud chatter that came from his family.
A pin dropping would be heard in the silence that filled the Burrow now. Molly wasn't even complaining about every little thing like usual. She was staring at her plate of food, but also not eating.
"You know," Rose began, breaking the very long silence.
There had been a lot of that lately, Hugo realised. Of all the times he had sat with his sister and cousins at Hogwarts, there had been very little conversation. Even when he had arrived at Grimmauld Place the previous night, he had preferred the silence. There wasn't anything to talk about unless he wanted to talk about his parents.
And he certainly didn't want to talk about them.
"This was always Dad's favourite meal," Rose continued into the waiting silence. "He always looked forward to coming here for the food."
"Yes, dear, your father was always one to enjoy his food," Molly replied. "Sometimes I wondered why he wasn't the size of a balloon."
A tiny smile appeared on the edge of Rose's mouth. She looked at their grandmother. "Could... would you be able to tell us a story of Mum and Dad?" she asked.
Hugo looked up expectantly and he realised everyone else's attention was also on his grandmother.
"What would you like to know, dear?" she asked kindly.
Hugo heard her voice shake and he wondered if Rose was asking too much after such a short time. The funeral had been only a few hours ago. They may have wanted to hear a story about their parents, but was someone ready to tell it?
"Anything," Rose answered quietly. "What... what do you remember about Dad? About Mum?" She turned to their other grandmother, who was sitting beside Molly.
Hugo could see the tension between them from their argument earlier. He hoped they would sort it out – the last thing he wanted was to have his grandparents fighting over them.
"We remember plenty of things, dear," Molly said. She thought for a moment, before allowing herself to smile. "I remember the day your dad found out he was going to have a baby..." she began.
"Me?" Rose questioned.
Molly nodded. "I remember how happy he was. He Apparated over here straight away to tell us the wonderful news. I don't think I'd ever seen him so happy before; except maybe the day you were born. He was also quite nervous, too. He was worried he wasn't going to be a good father."
"He was the best."
Hugo stared down at his hands. Did that mean he hadn't been as happy when he had been born? Had he been disappointed? Angry? Upset? If he was, he knew he would never find out.
"Your dad was a funny one," George interrupted, and it seemed now that the talking had begun, it was going to be hard to stop them. "He liked to put on a front that made everyone think he would rather have a spider gouge his eyes out than show even the slightest bit of emotion. But on the inside... on the inside he had a heart that was bursting with love for... for everyone important to him, really. Love for your mum, you kids and probably every single person sitting at this table right now. He just liked to keep how he felt a secret most of the time."
"Why?" Rose questioned.
George shrugged. "It was a mystery to all of us, but my guess is that he didn't know how to deal with what he was feeling. It took him a good amount of time to work out how he felt about your mother when it was blaringly obvious to everyone else."
"He always had a good heart," Molly said, joining the conversation again. "None of you will remember this –" she looked around the table, directing her statement at Hugo's uncles, "– but when he was about six, you kids were playing outside when you found a baby bird fallen from its nest. You all spent a while with it, but as soon as the novelty wore off, the bird was forgotten.
"Ron, however, kept it in his room until it died about a week later. I don't think he wanted anyone to know what he was doing, because he would go outside at night when he thought we were all in bed to find food, or give it water..."
"I don't think Fred and I ever gave him enough credit," George said, seeming to confess something that had been on his mind for quite some time. "As dumb as he acted sometimes, he was actually quite intelligent and there's no denying how much he loved you kids." He nodded his head at Hugo and Rose. "The things he would have done for you..."
"The things he would have done for anyone..."
Another uncomfortable silence filled the room, until Hugo's other grandmother broke it.
"Hermione was the same. Brave, a big heart and very loving... I can't believe she's gone."
Her husband – Hugo's grandfather – patted her on the back as she wiped away a few stray tears. Hugo looked away. It had been nice hearing stories about his parents; he didn't want anyone's tears to ruin that.
Beside him, Rose had returned to playing with her food. The roast potatoes that Hugo loved so much lay forgotten on his own plate.
"I can't believe either of them are gone," Molly said. "I thought we had passed the days of innocent lives being lost. Any further in finding who did it, Harry?"
Harry, who had stayed silent for most of the night, looked around uncomfortably. Hugo suspected Rose's suspicions of him knowing more than he was telling them were true. His eyes darted instantly to her and then shook his head unconvincingly.
"Nothing that we don't already know," he said quietly, probably in the hope Hugo and Rose wouldn't hear.
But he was fooling himself if he thought that would work.
"Why won't you tell us?" Rose questioned quietly. "What's so bad about it that you can't tell us? How were they killed? Were they cut up into tiny pieces or something and you don't want us to know?"
"Rose..." it was a half-hearted warning from Ginny – one that Rose easily ignored.
"No! I just want to know who killed my mum and dad!" she cried.
"We don't know," Harry told her. "That's the truth. We have no proof yet, to say who did it."
"But you think you know, don't you?" Hugo joined in. He hadn't wanted to be as verbal about it as Rose, but he also wanted to know. He didn't care how young they all thought they were, someone had killed his mum and dad and they had the right to know who.
"We suspect..." Harry began.
"Who?" Rose demanded.
"I don't think this is the right time to have this conversation," Molly interrupted.
"We should know!" Rose cried. "Who do you think it was?"
Harry glanced at Ginny, who gave him a small shrug. Everyone waited patiently.
"You kids don't know about this, because your parents didn't want you to know... about eighteen months ago, your dad and I – and some other Aurors – went on a mission. It was a fairly standard mission and we encountered the usual problems... a few small duels against the wizards and witches we were after.
"We shouldn't have done it – we know that now – be we got caught in a fight in the middle of a small village. It was predominantly a wizarding village and there were children around and... one of the children was killed in the crossfire. The mother of the child was distraught – understandably – and the Aurors were in quite a bit of trouble afterwards. But after the investigation, it was discovered that the spell that killed the child... came from your dad's wand."
Hugo sucked in a breath, shocked by the news. With a brief look to his left, he saw tears glistening his sister's eyes. They had had no idea. No one had bothered to tell them.
"But... but Dad never used the Killing Curse!" Rose cried. "It must have been a mistake!"
Harry shook his head. "It was a Stunning Spell. Someone our size, it would work like it was meant to, but for a small child... there's a reason children aren't taught magic until they're eleven. Your dad was beside himself, of course. It took a lot of convincing from me, your mum... Kingsley to get him back to work. He wasn't in trouble; he was simply following orders from the Auror in charge, but he blamed himself. What if that child had been either of you?
"No one blamed him... no one except himself and the mother of that child. Someone had killed her son... of course she was angry and she wanted revenge. Why do you think your parents were adamant in keeping you close to them when you came back from Hogwarts? It wasn't because they were being overprotective, it was because they were scared... they thought... they –"
"They thought she would be after us," Rose finished. "That she wanted to kill us."
"She kept saying he would pay for what he did and naturally, his first thought was the two of you. She kept low, we could never find her and even if we did, she hadn't done anything that gave us any reason to put her into Azkaban, or even arrest her."
"She threatened to hurt them!" Rose cried. She got to her feet, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why didn't you do anything about it? Your job is to catch bad people and she was bad! She killed them!"
Hugo tugged on her arm, silently begging her to calm down. Why did Rose have to lose her temper all the time? Why couldn't she stay calm and collected like most people? Getting upset wasn't going to bring their mum and dad back.
"We don't know that, Rose," Harry said calmly. "We don't know who killed them."
"She did it!" Rose said. "Of course she did it! Who else would have a reason to hurt them? She couldn't get to us, so she turned to the main source. And Mum was just in the way, I suppose?"
Harry shook his head, but didn't say anything.
"Sit down," Hugo begged her.
Rose ignored him.
"Alright, that's enough!" Molly interrupted, her voice strained. "We're not talking about this anymore. You heard what you wanted to hear, Rose; let's just try and stop yelling for the rest of the night, alright?"
With a cry of anguish, Rose left the table and disappeared, her loud sobs being heard as she climbed the stairs of the Burrow.
Both Hugo's grandmothers made to leave, but Ginny stopped them. "I'll go," she said. And she also left the table.
"You okay, mate?" George questioned, looking at Hugo.
Hugo simply nodded, but didn't say anything. It had been an accident! His dad had not meant to kill that child, but he had paid for it. And so had his mum.
It wasn't fair.
OOO
As he made his way up the stairs later that night, a quiet sobbing distracted Hugo. He thought it was Rose again – she hadn't stopped crying – but as he located where it was coming from, he realised it wasn't the room his sister was sleeping in.
It was his grandparents' room.
The door had been left half open and through the gap, he saw Molly sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. Arthur sat beside her, his arm across her shoulder.
Hugo swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and continued up the stairs.
He was still the only one who hadn't cried. What was wrong with him?
So you have some answers... possibly :) It's so weird reading over this now, because I've actually written up to chapter 29 so, it's so different haha. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review, letting me know what you think!
Thanks so much for all your current reviews. It means so much! And to DobbyLovesSocks for beating it for me :)