Using the prompt 'shell'
Chapter Eight
Another week gone by. That's two weeks without them, Hugo thought sadly as he headed to the bathroom on the second floor at Grimmauld Place. It had been exactly two weeks since he had been called out of class by Professor Longbottom and taken to the Headmaster's office. It had been exactly two weeks since someone had broken into his house and killed his parents – probably out of revenge. It had been two weeks since Hugo had felt happy.
It still felt strange not having them around. He had stayed nights at Grimmauld Place countless times in his twelve years. He remembered having sleepovers with his cousins. They would camp in the living room and tell stories. Other times, he would share a room with one of them and come down to the kitchen the next morning to the cheerful conversations of his mum and dad and aunts and uncles.
The time he had spent there in the past week... it just didn't feel right. Some mornings he would go down to have breakfast, expecting to see his dad sitting at the table, eating a large breakfast, or his mum greeting him good morning with a kiss. As much as he had hated that then, he would have given anything to have her say good morning to him again. He would have given anything for her to just be there again.
"Hey."
Hugo jumped violently at the sound of the voice. He had not seen Harry standing there and it had frightened him. Everything frightened him lately – ever since he had found out who had killed his parents. He was just waiting for her to come to Grimmauld Place and finish the job.
"You okay?" Harry questioned, his voice full of sympathy.
Hugo nodded. "Yep."
"You sure?"
Hugo nodded again. "Yes. James said something about going to play some Quidditch today at the Burrow. Can I go?"
Harry seemed slightly surprised. It was the most he had said to anyone other than Rose in two weeks. He just hadn't felt like talking; he hadn't felt like explaining what he was feeling. But this morning was different. He wanted to talk; he needed to talk.
"Of course," Harry eventually said, seeming to recover from the slight shock. "Does around lunch time sound good?"
Hugo nodded for a third time.
"Have you seen Rose?" Harry then questioned.
Hugo shook his head, but he knew exactly where she would be and it appeared that Harry did too. Rose only left her room at meal times.
Hugo looked up at his uncle. He had a question – something he had been wondering about for two weeks. He didn't understand. "How come they're not ghosts?" he asked. "How come I can't see them?"
"Come in here," Harry told him, opening the nearest door. It was an old, dusty room, which appeared to be used rarely. Harry moved a pile of books off a chair and indicated for Hugo to sit. He summoned another chair and sat opposite. "Not everyone comes back as a ghost," he said.
"They don't?" But, Hugo had seen all the ghosts at Hogwarts. There were a lot of them there.
Harry shook his head. "No. I hoped for the same thing once before, when Sirius – who used to own this house – died. I desperately wanted to see him and I thought I'd be able to, but I couldn't. A ghost is an imprint of one's soul. It is of those who were unhappy in their lives, or couldn't leave for some reason. To come back as a ghost, it would mean someone was suffering in their life. Your mum and dad weren't suffering. They were happy, so they moved on."
"So... I won't get to see them again?" Hugo couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had hoped that one day – maybe at Hogwarts – he would get to talk to his parents once more.
Harry's expression was full of sympathy. "You will get to see them again one day, Hugo, hopefully, it won't be for a very long time."
"I wish I had done more things with them," Hugo then said. "You know, spent more time with them. I just thought..." He trailed off.
"You thought they would be around forever," Harry finished.
Hugo nodded. "I miss them, you know," he said.
"We all miss them."
"It's not fair."
"No, it's not."
"But it wasn't fair for that little boy to die either." Hugo had been thinking about that a lot. That boy who had been caught in the crossfire... it wasn't his fault. But it hadn't been his dad's fault either. He had only been taking orders from his boss. And it wasn't like he had walked up to the boy and killed him. His dad would never have done that. Ever.
"It was an accident," Harry said. "An accident that probably should have been prevented – one that your dad never forgave himself for. Anyway, we're not sure it was her."
"It has to be," Hugo said. "Who else would want to kill them?"
Harry shook his head. "These are matters that shouldn't be concerning you, Hu. They're for the Aurors to find out – it's our job. All you need to know is that you are perfectly safe anywhere you go."
"But... what if we had been there?" Hugo asked. "Would she have killed us?"
Harry hesitated, obviously not wanting to answer. Hugo waited. He wasn't going to leave until he got an answer, and Harry seemed to realise that.
"She would have, wouldn't she?" Hugo said. "It would have been us. She wanted us."
"Hugo, you have to understand that this woman was unstable. She was grieving, she was angry, and she wanted to avenge her son's untimely death. She wanted your dad to suffer for what he had done."
"If it had happened to me or Rose, Mum and Dad wouldn't have gone and killed her because of it!" Hugo argued.
"No, they wouldn't have," Harry agreed. "And that was why your parents were so determined to keep you and Rose safe. They were scared for your safety. She had sent them threats, threatening to..." He paused.
"To kill us," Hugo continued. "But she couldn't get to us at Hogwarts, so she went for him instead."
Harry didn't say anything, but Hugo could see he wanted to say something else. He sucked in a breath as realisation came to him. He was only twelve, but he wasn't stupid. "She was after Mum, wasn't she?"
"Hugo, you really don't need to know this just yet. It's all guess work. We have no idea what actually happened and until we do, I don't want you speculating about anything."
Hugo wasn't listening. He didn't care. She wanted your dad to suffer for what he had done. Killing him wasn't going to make him suffer, but killing the ones around him would.
"She couldn't get to us, so she went after Mum instead," he said bluntly.
"Hugo..."
"Don't tell Rose that," he said. "She'll lose it." The last thing he wanted was for his sister to get even more upset. She was suffering worse than anyone; she didn't need any more suffering. "How did Dad die, then?"
"Hugo." This time Harry said it firmly. "I don't know anything other than what I've already told you... please stop asking." His voice was strained and Hugo knew not to continue. He'd find out eventually.
"Dad! Dad! Dad!" James appeared in the doorway, clutching his broom. Hugo had always been slightly jealous of James. He always seemed to have the latest model broom, when he wasn't even that good at Quidditch. Apparently Ginny was constantly given them (even though she had stopped playing professionally years ago) and she would give them to James or Albus. Lily wasn't on the Gryffindor team, so she was forced to have the old ones. She was never happy about that.
"Yes, James?" Harry asked, turning around so he could see his eldest son.
James looked from his dad to Hugo. "Er... I was just wondering if we were going soon?" he asked.
"Lunch time," Harry answered. "Hugo and I are busy at the moment."
James nodded, looking towards his cousin guiltily. "Alright." And he vanished.
Harry's attention returned to his nephew. "They tell me you've become quite the Quidditch player," he said warmly.
Hugo didn't meet his uncle's eye, choosing to stare at his hands instead. "Not really," he mumbled. "Still haven't made the team yet. I'm not good enough for Seeker and James is already Keeper, which is what I'm best at..." He paused. "Dad was helping me a lot," he added, swallowing hard. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind until now.
There had been so many times in the holidays Hugo and his dad would be outside, practicing Quidditch. Hugo wanted nothing more than to be on the team and his dad had been helping him. Who was going to help him now? Ginny was probably better at Quidditch, and so was Charlie... but they weren't his dad. He didn't want them helping him – it wasn't the same.
"I know; he was the one who told me."
Hugo finally looked up. "Really?" he asked.
Harry nodded. "He was rather proud, you know. Kept telling us all what a wonderful player you've become. James and Al agree, too."
"But I can't be Keeper and I'm no good at any of the other spots."
"Sure you are," Harry said. "You just have to believe that you can do it. I think you'd make a pretty good Beater."
Hugo shook his head. He was too thin to be a Beater. He didn't have enough strength.
"When we go to the Burrow later, I can help you, if you want," Harry said.
Hugo shook his head again. He wasn't ready for anyone else to help him. He wasn't sure if he would ever be. It had been something he had done with his dad and no one else. It had been their thing; he didn't want anyone else taking that away. "No... I think I'll just sit today out," he said. "I'll just watch."
Harry didn't push the matter further. "Alright, but if you ever change your mind... you know where to find me."
Hugo would never change his mind. He knew that.
Harry got up to leave, but Hugo didn't follow. It had been good talking to someone – it had felt good to open up – but he wasn't ready to talk to anyone else yet.
"I'll see you downstairs in a little while," Harry said, placing a comforting hand on Hugo's shoulder. "We love you, mate," he then added before leaving the room.
Later that day at the Burrow, Hugo actually found himself enjoying the time he was spending with his family. It hadn't been for long, but for just one moment, he had forgotten about his parents. They were gone, but he still had the rest of his family. That was something.
The prompt was used figuratively - Hugo coming out of his shell. Anyway, here is another chapter for you. Yay! I hope you enjoyed, and thanks so much to DobbyLovesSocks for beta-ing for me once again :)