Tom paced around the field where Evelyn had just been standing two damn seconds ago. "Where the fuck is she?" he seethed more out loud than anything because Mattheo knew just as much as he did. "She fucking disappeared!"

"Umm, Tom," Mattheo said softly. "We're wizards. We all can disappear."

He ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't care about his appearance right now. Hell, he didn't care about anything right now. Why should he when she was gone again?

"Well, she can't. She can't just fucking do that. She can cry and scream and do whatever she wants but she can't fucking leave."

Tom felt an unfamiliar sting in his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice broke into pieces that sounded like shards of glass. Fragile. Shattered.

"Why did she leave?"

And Tom fell to his knees in the field and sobbed.

. . .

Evelyn spent over half an hour in the nursery she lost just looking around, imagining what her life might have been like if she had grown up in the home she was meant to. But despite how horrible her life had been, despite the trauma she had endured, she wasn't sure if she had any regrets. She wished she knew her mother, wished she hadn't had to go through that, yes. But, in a way, Evelyn was beginning to realize that her trauma shaped her into who she was today. If she hadn't spent many nights in her bedroom, terrified of her grandparents, she might not have found the dark horror books she so loved, books that she used to reassure herself that despite how bad her world was, it could have been worse. If she hadn't been bruised badly the night she came to Hogwarts, she might not have sought solace in the library, meeting Tom on her way back. If she hadn't gone through a week of hell in the dungeons, she might not have known the depths of her father's love for her, even though he was really just a vision.

Evelyn wished she knew her mother and she wished she knew what it felt like to be loved in a home like this one. But what was done was done and she couldn't change it now. All she could do was move on and move forward.

Nightfall quickly came to the house in Chelsea. It was dark and thunder roiled in the distance—part of her wondered whether it was a normal storm or if Tom was making his way to the London metro.

"I have to get going," Evelyn said finally in the late hours of the night. "But I can come back. Perhaps this summer."

Vivian looked distressed. Her eyes widened and, at that moment, Evelyn realized that she was quite a few inches shorter than her niece. "Oh, please stay the night. Please. I don't get company often so you would be doing much such a favor."

But Evelyn heard another boom of thunder and realized she wasn't ready to see Tom again, not yet. So she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry but I can't. Another time."

Her aunt frowned but didn't push it. "Alright. But if you insist on going, can I give you something?"

She nodded. The woman disappeared into another room down the hall while Evelyn made her way back to the living room, slipping on the boots that were a bit too big for her. After a few moments, Vivian came back down the stairs clutching two things in her hand. Evelyn couldn't see what they were."

Her aunt walked over to her and held out her hands. Inside them were two things: the first was a locket, worn and made of gold. The second was a picture of... Evelyn gasped. "My parents."

Vivian nodded sadly. "I took this picture on the last day of their sixth year. The last time they saw each other." Her father had his arm wrapped tightly around her mother, pulling her tightly while she laughed at the camera. Regulus was smiling widely, staring down at the woman. The picture moved and soon, both of them were looking at the lens and waving.

And whatever healing, whatever acceptance Evelyn had toward her situation, shattered at that moment.

She was the perfect combination of Regulus and Adelyn. Both of their hair was dark, though her father's was shorter and curly and her mother's long and straight. It seemed Evelyn's loose black waves combined the two. Regulus's eyes were cold and grey while Adelyn's warm and the lightest of blues. She saw herself in the high cheekbones of her father, in the full lips of her mother, in the smiles on their faces. A glimpse of them lingering inside of her.

"Thank you," Evelyn replied in a hollow voice, taking the picture, which was in a faded gold frame. This is who created me. This is who could have loved me. And while she may have felt loved earlier, she felt more alone than ever now.

"And this was your mother's," Vivian said, slipping the locket onto Evelyn's neck. She touched the gold pendant and felt the excellent craftsmanship. This was an expensive piece of jewelry. "Your father gave it to your mother on their anniversary."

"It's lovely." At least that didn't feel hollow. It really was a pretty necklace.

"Open it."

Evelyn complied only to find her heart breaking all over again. Inside were two pictures: both of headstones. One was small with an angel holding a dove. A small teddy bear sat in front of it. The other... the other was her father's. She recognized that grave, had sat beside it dozens of times speaking to it.

"Your mother felt horrible she couldn't visit your graves more often—it was just too painful for her at first and then the sickness made her too exhausted to get out of bed—so she kept them with her wherever she went. I suppose you'd want to change the pictures—"

"They're fine," Evelyn interrupted because talking about her dead father and her dead... well, her wasn't exactly what she wanted to do. "Where is it? My grave?"

"Not far from your father's. Just a few rows north. Your mother wanted you laid to rest under a tree so you aren't next to him but you're close."

"Wait. Do you mean that I was 'buried' in the same graveyard as my father?"

Vivian looked bewildered. "Of course, dear. Why wouldn't you be?"

Evelyn knew where she needed to be. She needed to go there, needed to see it with her own eyes. Now.

"Thank you," she said in a quick voice. "It's been lovely meeting you but I really must go." Evelyn said her goodbyes to her aunt, hugged her, and promised she'd visit again soon before quickly apparating away.

To the graveyard.

Evelyn didn't care about the mud left behind by melting snow. She didn't care about the chill in the air or the now-very-distant thunder. In a way, the cold reminded her that she was alive. Her mind was blank of everything but seeing that grave with her own eyes. Even her feet seemed to be acting on instinct, carrying her across the cemetery to the place she knew so well.

The stone appeared in front of her like a beacon of light. Regulus Arcturus Black (R.A.B.), it said in large, faded words. 1958-1976. Son, brother, friend. It should have said "father". God, it should have said father.

But it didn't because he had never really been her father just like Adelyn had never really been her mother. Because Evelyn had always been and probably would always be alone.

She knew that now.

Evelyn could lie to herself. She could say that her father cared for her, that her mother did too (and perhaps she did, Evelyn would never really know) but the fact of the matter was that Evelyn was alone. She was the one in the bedroom hiding from the pain, she was the one in the dungeons tortured for days. She. Was. Alone.

She had no one.

Evelyn's eyes glanced two rows behind where a small willow tree sat next to two headstones. It was a lovely setting, one she never would have noticed if Vivian hadn't said something. Your mother wanted you laid to rest under a tree so you aren't next to him but you're close. How had she never noticed it? Evelyn ran over there and gasped when she finally saw it.

Adelyn Marie Hargrave

1958 - 1988

Daughter, sister, friend, mother

Loved endlessly

She wasn't sure she was ready to see her mother's grave. Was anybody really ready to see that or was it just something that happened anyway? It shocked her to see "mother" written on it when Regulus's headstone had never said "father", though it hardly made her feel better. Her parents were still dead whether it said their role on their tombstone or not. If anything, it felt more like a reminder that she didn't have any family left. They were all buried and she... she unfortunately was not.

There were some flowers—Christmas flowers it looked like—resting on the soil. Someone visited recently. Probably Vivian.

And next to it with a carved marble angel that cried as it held doves in its hand, with a teddy bear faded and torn from eighteen years of sitting in the harsh elements, read:

Evelyn Arcturus Black

January 1976 - January 1976

Daughter

Our little dove, now flying with angels

And Evelyn fell to her knees in the mud and sobbed.

This chapter is seriously so short but this one plus the next one almost need to be their own separate thing so they'll both be short. How about that parallel between Ev and Tom though? And the callback to the first chapter? I felt clever lol. The next two will be juicy (kinda). Might rip our hearts out though.