AN: Meant to release it sooner buuuut ya know, work and all that jazz... Special Thanks to Foxtrot1702 for the lovely review. Made my day. Fav/Follow/Review. Once again, Thanks for reading~~~
Weeks. It's been approximately two weeks since becoming a permanent resident at Malfoy Manor.
Having spent most of his days trapped inside a library. Mortimer has been enthralled by the tall lined book shelves that were at his display. Books that contained precious knowledge.
Nana would scream blasphemy...
Primarily, he had been keen to learn more about occlumency. Remembering the itch he had in his head back when he was at the hospital. Mortimer soon realised that his mind was being invaded by Dumbledore.
A nasty feeling, a violating sensation; he never wanted to feel like that again. It was the main reason why he had been caught in the first place. Why dumbledore knew so much about him. He had been secretly examining him without his knowledge - or consent.
Shaking off the discomforting tingle at the back of his spine, mortimer went back to his reading.
Books, both old and new. Some covers showed signs of aging; still in good condition for their age. Fading in colour that the exposed lighting made it more darker. There was wear on the edges, causing some pages to be left loose. Strangely enough, there were small hints of faded vanilla and undistinguishable fragrance among the scripts. It was comforting.
More than ever, he wanted to learn as much as possible. It was a silent vow to himself. Attain the knowledge that made his father powerful, a tool that would bring him the protection he needed - wanted even. And after hearing the things that his parents were capable of, it only succeded in motivating him further. He'd be a fool to go in blindly.
While he knows he shouldn't care what other's think of him, there was also a need to establish himself among the other witches and wizards. He was an anomaly who wanted to be known. Acknowledged for being someone other than a Death Eater's offspring.
Mortimer had already been judged not too long ago. A few days in fact. It happened after his arrival. Draco had introduced him to a group of his friends. Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson. They were children who grew up together, an inner circle due to their family connections.
Much to their dismay, majority of them had already made up their minds. Not fully convinced, they regarded him for being raised in inferior environment, being raised by a muggle. But that seemed more like an excuse. Truthfully, mortimer believes they were simply afraid of him. Knowing who his mother was and what she had done, made them hesistant.
It was confirmed once Crabbe began apologizing profusely after he had stepped on mortimer's foot. The instense fear that was written over their faces had discontented what little hope he had for making any real friends.
They were polite - yes, but none seemed interested in him in the slightest. Out the four, Theodore appeared more competent than the rest. Both Vincent and Gregory looked more like henchmen than friends. And Pansy came across a self-centered brat.
Yes, he wanted to prove to himself that he does belong here. If he could not find a place within the muggle world, he would make sure he'd fit right into this one.
Setting aside his new 'friends' Mortimer has learned more about his family. Most notably, his mother. Not only was she his father's most trusted, she also happened to be already married. Married to a pure-blood wizard, Rodolphus Lestrange. Him, along with his brother, were just as crazy and devoted to his father than his mother was.
Narcissa had later explained that the marriage was soley to uphold traditions. That she loved his father more than anyone. His guess was that she was attempting to comfort him from the news. As to why. She probably feared mortimer's dislike for Bellatrix's husband.
Honestly, Mortimer could care less about his mother's affairs.
He didn't care about that. What did end up catching his eye the most was the trial. The torturing of Alice and Frank Longbottom.
From the sound of things, his mother, along with the other Death Eaters, presented themselves as proud members who had no regrets in destroying the lives of others.
It was nauseating, but mortimer would never tell anyone, least not anyone here. Lucius was very clear on his stance, so to speak against him would mean endless conflict and problems he was not ready for.
Mortimer didn't see this as being a coward. It was more to do with survival, playing it smart and safe. At least until he can find an alternate solution. A way to be free from everyone else.
Hearing Draco's awakening footsteps, Mortimer became aware that it was late in the morning. A pattern that has recently developed.
"Do you know what today is?" The upper lip on draco's face curled in a shred of excitement.
Without sharing a glance, he replied. "Monday."
"No. Today we'll be getting our supplies and by that I mean, today we'll finally get our wands!"
Mortimer gazed up to see Draco smiling. The news alone made his insides twist into a knot. Most of his time was spent in seclusion on the manor, to be accompanied by books filled with spell work and potions.
There were too many things floating in his mind, he nearly forgotten that today was the day he would recieve his first and only wand. It was exciting to anyone new, and the very thought made him feel like a giggly girl.
"Ah - how could I forget." Mortimer slapped his forehead.
"If you had bothered leaving the room once in a while than you would have known." Draco eyed the pile of books mortimer had taken out. "Already going for head boy?" He heckled.
"I want to be prepared - and what if I am? I want to make the right impression." Wiping small particles of his robes, he closed and placed the tomes back to their proper place.
"The right impression? You're part of the most ancient house of Black! - One of the sacred twenty-eight. What kind of impression would you have to make?" A nonsensical notion that was evident by his voice.
There was more to it than that. It was more than making a impression, it was about proving to himself.
A testament to demonstrate that he was better. Not in a manner of self-entitlement nor in the nature of egotism. More than ever, he aspired to be wizard some would call honourable. Someone good. To be better than the Malfoy's idealistic ways, better than his mother's unjustified behavior, better than Tom.
It was more than he was willing to share with anyone, let alone Draco. "My reputation will forever be tarnished by mother's own. Your friends already fear me. Imagine how everyone will react when they find me amongst their peers. They won't see me as any other kid, they'll see a Death Eater's spawn."
Unbeknown to Draco, it wasn't the worse part. Both Lucius and Narcissa neglected to inform him of Mortimer's 'patriarch' out of fear. A handful of people knew already and with Mortimer leaving, chances are, it will only spread.
"You should be proud. Aunt Bella was only doing what she thought was best. And with fear, you could control the school. Fear brings power - or at least that's what father says..." Draco began muttering towards the end, scratching his head.
Mortimer sighed. Of course, Draco wouldn't understand. Why would he? The boy has everything he wants.
Turning away, mortimer began walking out of the library. Draco came after him and thankfully, digressed from their previous conversation. As a replacement, went on about a broomstick, Nimbus Two Thousand, Draco said. The best broom that was written in gold for all to see.
Mortimer nodded dispassionately, making little comments here and there to let Draco know he was listening - but not really. Seriously, the boy's chattering was endless. The only benefit was that it gave Mortimer far too much time to ruminate of ways to shut him up.
The two of them walked eagerly along the manor's passageway. "...and then we'll show them that Slytherin is truly superior than those nitwit brutes back in Gryffindor..." Draco raised his hands in triumph.
"What makes you think you'll be placed in Slytherin? You could be in Hufflepuff for all you know." Mortimer challenged. Not that he thinks of them as any less. But how could anyone be so sure?
Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the mere suggestion. His brows snapped together and he sneered. "Are you joking me? Of course I'll be in Slytherin! Every Malfoy has been placed there for many years. It's the best and only house I'll ever accept. Not those weak pathetic Puffs!"
Draco raised voice. By the time he was done, he was nearly blushing. Mortimer couldn't understand. "Well... What makes you think I'll be in Slytherin then? I could be in Ravenclaw. You've seen me right?"
Draco shook his head. "Nuh uh - Not likely. Every Black has been sorted in the same house, just like the Malfoys. Besides it's expected of us - Why would you even suggest that?"
Mortimer simply shrugged, strolling by Lucius' study room. "Curiousity. Also, I heard that one of the Black's managed to get sorted into Gryffindor. So there's that."
"Yeah - And he ended up in azkaban." Draco scoffed after he rolled his eyes. "You still have a lot to learn about our ways."
Your ways, not mine.
Draco and Mortimer came to a halt. Narcissa was waiting for them near the drawing room. "There you are. I was worried I would have to pry you out myself from that little sanctuary you've created for yourself." She teased merrily.
"Forgive me Aunt Cissy. I'm just excited that's all." Mortimer smiled anxiously. Draco however was far to eager to leave.
"Mother can we go now?" He groaned.
Mortimer tilted his head. He was snooping for information. "Will Uncle Lucius not be joining us?
Narcissa shook her head gently. Her husband was far too busy. "No he will not. He has other precedent matters to attend to. I'm sure I can handle you two boys."
"I don't doubt your ability Aunt Cissy." Placing his arm on his back, he made a comment that made her beam in response.
"We'll be going through Floo." Narcissa said as she began to walk near the mantel. "One at time and be careful, both of you."
Draco went first. Grabbing the powder, he yelled and disappeared behind the flames. After that, it was mortimer's turn. This time, he was confident and no longer feared the green inferno.
Instantly, they were teleported through the familiar busy bustling animated streets of Diagon Alley.
The two boys waited shortly for Narcissa and when she eventually did appear, they practically began dragging her towards the wand shop.
"Not so fast. First we will need to acquire your uniforms." Her voice was firm. "Draco dear, why don't you go on ahead to Madam Malkin. We'll be along shortly."
Draco gave a sole nod before fading into the crowd.
Mortimer quickly recovered though as he was far too eager to explore the shops. It was technically his first time to fully explore the paved streets. He became puzzled as to where Aunt Cissy was taking him. "Where are we going?"
"Gringotts." She answered calmly. Shortly after, became quite strain in her tone. "I won't pretend and say I understand your mother's motives. What she did was unexpected. Considering the name she left you with, I'm sure there is something waiting for you."
"What makes you say that Aunt Cissy?" He began questioning. Worried something had gone wrong.
Walking towards the direction of the bank, Narcissa spoke quietly but loud enough for mortimer to hear. "You are a Black. In fact, you are now technically the only member left that has any right to the family Vault. With your mother away, along with my cousin, who was next in line, you are the last person who might have any claim towards the house."
Mortimer was speechless that he nearly bumped into a few wizards. "You think I have any right to inherit anything?" He asked.
Nearly there, Narciss gave a single nod and replied. "I was raised to understand my family and what we stand for. Between you and my cousin. My Aunt would have prefered leaving everything to you if it meant upholding traditions."
"What kind of traditions?"
"You are to take Lordship of the Black name. Then, when you become of age, you will take on a bride. A pure-blood witch, one that will support and provide you with an heir of your own - "
" Wait! What?" Hearing the words bride and heir made him blush with intensity.
Narcissa laughs lightly at his reaction. "Oh my - You have nothing to worry about my dear. You've yet to start school. There will be pleanty of time to think of such affairs. For now let us focus on the first step."
Moving pass the meek-inducing topic. Mortimer asks. "What about your mother - uh sorry - grandmother. What wpuld she think of this?" He blantly questioned.
"Mother?" She stopped briefly. "She would be content knowing there is someone out there to continue the family bloodline. My family was once the envy of every pureblood... Yes, and sadly dwindled in size. I can not let that happen. I may be a Malfoy but the Black blood still flows through my veins as does yours my nephew."
Mortimer became silent. He doubted any of them would be happy letting a half-blood inherit their fortune. Completely oblivious to the fact that his father wasn't a pure-blood, it was no wonder why Mortimer was even allowed any right. They truly believed he was one of them.
Ugh... All this talk about inheritence and blood made his head hurt. Did Narcissa expect him to continue the so-called Black family bloodline? He was hardly tall enough to reach the counter. At his age, mortimer found girls to be icky and loud - annoying.
By the time Mortimer was done shuddering at the thought of marriage, Narcissa had already entered through the bronze door of Gringotts.
The several passageways and doors that seemed to only stretch made it easy for anyone to get lost. The Goblins themselves were occupied with their own business to have even bother looking at the new arrivals.
Narcissa made her way at the front desk directly. Speaking to a goblin who instantly recognized her, she spoke intently. "My nephew needs access to his vault."
The hard-faced goblin nearly sneered but instead made a small grumbling noise before asking. "Does he have his key?"
"No. I would also request he take an inheritence test." Narcissa sought out the truth. She did not doubt her nephew's legitimacy, but she did doubt his father's.
Serverus confessed that his father was none other than the Dark Lord himself. Instantly it sent shivers down her spine. It was not possible.
The Dark Lord never showed interest in ever conceiving an heir before. What did make sense is that Bella would have gladly volunteer if it meant being closer to him.
If their union did result in Mortimer and with him gone, this also meant that his nephew was now Slytherin's sole heir.
The Goblin murmered and hopped down from his desk. "Follow me Madam."
Quietly, they set on to tail from behind. Entering one of the various doors that were presented, they were led into an office with stacks of gold and artifacts that were positioned in different parts of the room.
His eyes widen as he silently let out a gasp. Mortimer's never seen so much gleaming, shiny objects.
Another Goblin wearing small round spectacles questioned them when they entered the office "Yes?"
"Madam Malfoy has requested a blood test and access to the Black Family Vault." Replied the distinct employee.
"Of course." Waving his hand, he dismissed the other goblin and signaled Narcissa to take a seat. "Come in. I am Alroka. I was personally hired by Walburga Black to maintain and assess any living relative accounts that may or may not have entry."
"Yes, I am aware." Narcissa brushed off the the goblin's words and went straight to business. "I realise that upon her death, the fortune had gone directly to Sirius Black, correct?"
Alroka scratched his chin and then rested his hands on top of the desk. "That's right. But because of his current situation, I had no choice but to withhold all assests until we are able to find a living member who can claim back the vault."
She nodded once Alroka confirmed. "I believe my nephew has the right. I understand that he is not of age. But I am also aware that he does not need to. That is unless he recieves permission from someone who once belonged to the house."
Alroka's forehead creased. "While this true, your nephew will still not be able to have full claim until he is older. He may however still withdrawl should he need to. For now, your nephew will have to settle as a canidate until we can sort out the situation between him and the other Black. It is no guarantee but it's the best I can do in such a short notice."
Before Narcissa could reply, Mortimer abruptly spoke out to the goblin. "What if I was emancipated?"
Narcissa's eyes widened. No - "Absolutely not." His aunt scolded.
Clearing his throat, the goblin added. "That would be an entirely different matter. Regardless, only a parent can legally sign you off." The goblin's nose wrinkled as he adjusted his specs.
"Good." Narcissa spoke forcibly. Concealing the small hurt she was feeling. "Enough of that. I assume you will be preforming the blood test?" Folding her arms in annoyance.
"Yes." Hopping of his desk. Alroka walked near a storage cabinet. And took out a dark wooden small case.
Opening it, he extracted the enchanted dagger. "I will need a sample young man."
Mortimer was too eager. Holding out his palm, Alroka created a short, but effective cut. Taking a moment to adjust, mortimer watched as a few droplets of blood landed on a piece of parchment.
It took minutes before the names of every family member appeared.
Mortimer was speechless, his eyes scanning through every known surname. One of them being the Gaunts, the Blacks - he already knew, but the most shocking of them all was when the name Slytherin appeared.
Narcissa watched from behind. Her hunch was correct as her nerves crept underneath her skin. She was no doubt proud of her nephew's heritage, being the heir that would continue on Slytherin's work. Beliving in her young nephew, Mortimer will go on to do great things, just like his father.
Mortimer however, became breathless with fear. Dumbledore never said anything about being related to Salazar. Nor did he mention the Gaunts.
Reading extensively on every Pure-Blood family he could find, he came across the Gaunts. Researching further, they were practically extinct; gone. Not to mention, mad. Mad by their inbreeding...
Once a prominent family, they made sure to squander every bit of their fortune.
Succeeding, they were reduced into proverty.
It was not worth knowing. Not worth knowing showing off.
"Are you alright Mortimer?" Narcissa placed a warm hand on his shoulder.
No. I'm not. Mortimer thought to himself. He did not feel right at all. But once again, he would have to play along and put on a mask.
"Yes Aunt Cissy. Never better." He smiled. Secretly he wanted to run away. "Can we go now? I'm very eager to receive my wand.
His Aunt let out a small laugh and guided mortimer towards the vaults. "Let us go collect your funds first." At this moment, Alroka walked away, with the two not far behind.
His shoulders sagged, thinking of what to do next. There was no one he could to talk to about his concerns, his worries. Draco will probably end up spilling. He didn't trust his aunt enough to share. And Lucuis, he was not an option.
He could go to dumbledore. Then what? Mortimer had no idea.
From there, he became increasingly quite. His sweet Aunt did most of the talking, at which time, had only gave simple replies and occasionally nodded.
The ride towards the vault would have been thrilling - even fun. But mortimer's thoughts were already absorbed by the nature of his family's history and beliefs.
Thankfully, the crackling embers of the fire filled the empty silence between the two.
Once they reached the family vault. Mortimer didn't pay much attention the substantial amount of gold and silver that was there. Despondent, he just wanted to leave. Filling his pouch, mortimer made sure it would be enough to last him the year.
"Ready." He said audibly.
"Wonderful." A pause was drawn out from his aunt. "Draco must be wondering why we are taking so long."
The ride back was not as long. A few exchanges with Alroka about the next steps. The goblin explained that they would continue to monitor and work on his case before he can declare the family name. That also included Slytherin's own vault - practically empty, mortimer believed.
Nonetheless, he thanked the goblin. Alroka seemed surprised by his politeness behavior and wholly nodded.
Eventually Narcissa and Mortimer found Draco at Madam Malkins who was unexpectedly still waiting to be measured.
Entering the shop, mortimer nearly bumped into a small scrawny boy wearing round-shapped spectacles. Ignoring the lanky boy, his eyes were caught on a giant who was holding onto two ice cream cones. "Woah..." He whispered.
"How did it go mortimer?" Draco asked standing on the stool.
"It went well..." That was one way of putting it mildly.
From then on, Mortimer and Draco conversed about nonsensical chatter. It was first time Mortimer actually felt like a normal kid who wasn't worried.
A nice distraction from his previous mindset that went on for nearly an hour. An hour to pretend he was a 'normal' wizard - if such a thing exsisted.
Collecting majority of their supplies, what was left on their shopping list now was what they were both waiting for. Their patience finally awarded, mortimer will finally get his wand.
The wand that will guide and determine his magic.
"I want to go first!" Draco yammered unsurprisingly, rushing towards Ollivanders. His mother could not repress her sigh.
Greeted by Garrick Ollivander himself, the expression on the boys faces visibly gave away their motives. "Hello hello there children."
Narcissa quietly waited beyond and took a seat near a corner. It was mostly due to the shabby, dusty, messy state of the shop, she had decided to avoid it all.
Eyeing the Madam, Ollivander spoke. "Ah - Madam Malfoy I remember you. Your wand, it was - "
"We are here for my son and nephew. Not to exchange pleasantries. Return to your business, Ollivander." Narcissa stopped him from continuing and dismissed him.
"Oh, yes of course. Now let's see, which of you will go first?" The wandmaker asked, tapping his chin.
"I will." Draco treaded upfront with a smirk.
A few wands rolled by and none seemed to feel right for Draco. Worried, mortimer began to think his turn would never arrive.
At long last, Draco was happily given his own wand. Ten inches, Hawthorn, Unicorn hair.
His features clouded in excitement, he greedily held on to it and scurried to his mother. "Mother look! I have my wand!"
Mother and son, Draco actively talked to his mother while she only listened. The love Narcissa had for her son Draco made mortimer a little envious.
Mortimer's dark peering eyes found his Aunt affectionately caressing her son's hair, her smile still prevalent. Pathetically, he copied the same gesture on to himself.
It did not have the same effect.
Love and pride were easily seen through the adoring eyes of a mother as Draco showed off his new wand.
Mortimer turned away.
Facing Ollivander, there was a glint of sadness in the old wandmaker's eyes.
Years of being alone, he has seen the changes and it was present here today. He would never know that feeling of being warmly held.
Ollivander smiled sympathetically in a way that was almost comforting, but not quite. "I've already selected a few wands I think will fit you best."
Though entirely pleased at the sudden shift, his sour mood lingered.
Mortimer took the wand made entirely out of willow, almost immediately, he felt disonnected so he placed it aside. Next, Walnut - it felt fine but it was not enough to satisfy him. Hawthorn - nope.
Until finally, mortimer felt a tingle. A wonderful sensation that brought him beaming. It was calling to him. "This one..." He nearly whispers. "It's this one."
Nodding politely at the curious boy, The wandmaker carefully says. "Ah yes. Yew and Dragon heartstring, thirteen and a half inches."
"What does it mean?" Mortimer asks quietly. Both Draco and his Aunt were too occupied to notice.
Ollivander tread lightly before his eyes were staring at the small boy in front of him. "It could mean many things. Just like any wand, they all mean something to someone. Yew grants its user protection. Now whether you use it to protect yourself or others. It is what you want it to be. Dragon heartstring are strongly bond to its masters, but can be swayed easily. A rarity such as this, you are expected to do well... That'll be ten Galleons."
Mortimer frowned and squinted. "But his was seven." Pointing his head at Draco.
"I repeat myself, a rarity, Mr. Black." The wandmaker smiled in warmth as he packaged his newfound wand.
"I never told you my name." His mouth snapped shut when he grasped onto the case.
"You did not need to." Ollivander stares off onto Narcissa sitting besides Draco.
Paying the man, there was a single light that flickered. And in that glint of luminosity, a chilling sight made the wandmaker take a step back.
For there, a young Tom Riddle was staring back at him, a reflection. Mortimer's dark orbs piercing from the distance at which he was standing.
"Good day to you." Mortimer soon walked away.
Maintaining his eyes frontward, he ignored his Aunt's calls. Taking faster steps outside from the shop, he didn't care where he was going. There was many things wrong with him that were too long to make. Most of which that revolved purely around his lineage. Nothing but stark raving mad fanatics that dated back generations.
The cobbled roadways leading him away, he paused. Shaking his head, mortimer intended to go back but was stopped rapidly by a shrieking voice.
Unforeseeably, he had been in too much of a shock to notice he had been thrown against flagged pavement. Not on purpose but accidental.
Clashing against the unknown figure, they both fell hard. And in the process, had dropped his wand. Sharply, he spun back around to face the idiot that dared to make him look foolish.
He could hear the small voice releasing an exhale of breath. "Ooh - ow..."
Rising from the ground, he looked down at her. She did same. "Are you daft? Can you not see where you are going?"
He towered over her that made the girl feel like an insignificant little creature. "I-I um, I'm sorry." She pipped.
Mortimer cracked his neck. Staring at the annoying girl.
However, despite his cross reaction, he was not without manners. Offering his hand, the girl gratefully took it and pulled her up. "Th-Thank you..."
Mortimer scowled, almost regretting helping her. "I don't need your 'thanks'. I need you to watch where you're going."
"I-I'm sorry." She repeated. Her eyes were glossy and her lower lips quivered; she was afraid.
Picking up his packaged wand, Mortimer paused. He was not expecting this sort of response.
Realising his mistake, he wiped off his hostile facade. By her apperence, he could tell he wasn't dealing with any austere groups. "No wait - " Shaking his head swiftly. "It's my fault. I guess - I wasn't looking..."
The little girl was reluctant to talk but miraculously found her voice. "Why did you h-help me?" She quizzed softly.
He thought for a moment. Why would he not? In his mind, it was only right. That was until he remembered the reputation aristocratic families had. The entitlement and privilege they have about themselves, it was no wonder why she was hesitant.
Studying her clothes and posture, he understood that she was not particularly wealthy nor was she use to having outside conversations. A shy girl who probably doesn't have any friends.
It also explains why she was excessively fidgety.
"It was my fault." Mortimer said quietly as if he were telling a secret. "Aside from the fancy snobby robes i'm wearing. I don't actually believe in any of that rubbish."
The girl blinked a few times, not sure whether to believe him. Lifting her eyebrow in a suspicious manner, she asked. "You don't?"
Shaking his head, part of mortimer wanted to confide to at least one person. To let someone know he wasn't his parents. That he wasn't like those pure-bloods wizards that flaunt around - parading their names along with their wealth. "I hate it. The trousers make my bottom stick out."
The little girl began to laugh. "I'm Ginny." She smiled, appearing to finally let loose.
"I'm mortimer." His voice was polite that replaced his aggressive tone moments ago.
"You're going to Hogwarts this year?" Eyeing the case he was holding, she asked anxiously.
"Mmhmm - My first year. What about you?"
Ginny seemed slightly bothered by her own answer. She nibbled her bottom lip. "I won't get my letter until next year. That's what mum said."
"Then what are you doing here alone?" He questioned.
"We came here for my brother - or brothers... I was looking at the owls but then I lost mum and the others." Embarrassed at how stupid it must have sounded.
But mortimer understood. "It happens to all of us." A short pause. "You don't need help finding them, do you?"
"I don't think so - oh! I see them." Ginny's eyes peaked around mortimer as she spotted two identical red-heads that were moving simultaneously.
Before ginny could lose them again, she sprinted pass mortimer. "It was nice meeting you! Maybe I'll see you next year!" Yelling while waving her hand.
Mortimer waved back. It felt nice.
Theres wasn't a hint of malice or judgement in ginny's words, only a joyful reflection that mortimer shared. Now that she knows, he hopes it will stay that way.
Now that he's starting at Hogwart's, he is going to be glared and ignited by one-sided students who will despise him. Whether mortimer knows it, he will automatically be seen as the bad guy. What felt even worse, they will never believe him.
He couldn't stand it.
Kicking dust off the cobbled street. Mortimer decided it was time to head back. The way he left the wand shop, he was sure Aunt Cissy would be having a fit.
And right he was. Mortimer's body grew weary as his nerves fraught. He could see Narcissa's frantic movements when she scoured the congested street.
When her eyes finally met his, she hurried in his direction. "Mortimer! Is something wrong? Why did you ran off like that? What happened?"
Mortimer stared carefully at his worried Aunt. Translucent by her troubled tone, he didn't want her to suspect that he was unsatisfied. Though he would be lying if said it was false. "Forgive me Aunt Cissy. I-I was very excited to get home and use my wand. But - um, then I got lost. I didn't mean to run away."
His Aunt seem to be contemplating, indecisive around his story. "Are you sure? You know you can trust me with any problems you may have. We are afterall, family."
Mortimer shivered.
"I know." He plastered on a fake smile. It was sufficient enough to cheer her up.
"Good. Now, let's go home." Narcissa said
Placing her arm over his shoulders, they both walked away. Leaving behind the surge of emotions that were felt. Mortimer specifically, wishing for the day where he would finally be able to leave.