O
KYDOIMOS
Confusion
In years to come, Hope would never be able to pinpoint exactly when the change came about.
All she knew was that back in September she had liked Cadmus immensely. Maybe not loved him in the way she had always expected to love a boyfriend, granted, but she had nevertheless felt attracted to him, respected him and cared about him. He had been someone she could see a future with, even if that sentiment didn't stretch into the realms of marriage, children or growing old together. They had argued but such disagreements had been quickly forgotten and in most respects she had been happy and satisfied in the relationship.
Somehow, by mid-December, she was miserable, lonely and confused. The two of them argued every other day. Perpetually nervous around him and terrified of how he might react to the smallest incident, Hope felt without question that they were incompatible and had no idea how it had all gone so wrong.
O
The day after the winter full moon, Hope sat anxiously waiting for Teddy's letter as she bolted down some toast before quidditch practice. Cadmus had joined her, but she didn't have the headspace to spare for conversation.
"Your brother should get a Wiznote," Cadmus said, after ten minutes of watching her look up every time an owl flew through the top window, only to slump down again in disappointment. "Then he could message you and you'd get it in seconds, instead of having your owl fly the entire length of the country."
Not a bad idea, that.
"I'll get him one as an extra Christmas present," Hope said. "And then-"
She broke off as Teddy's owl finally came soaring down to her and gave her a cheery tap on the wrist with its beak before offering her the letter. Hope tore it open and scanned the page. All fine, Dad was well, no particular news of note.
Thank Merlin.
"Told you there was no point fretting," Cadmus sighed, observing her visible relief.
Hope didn't appreciate his tone at all.
"I'm still allowed to worry about him, aren't I?" she snapped, rounding on him. "Things have happened in the past, and he is my dad."
"Suppose." Cadmus scowled down at the breakfast table and scratched at its surface with a stray fork. "I would be grateful you have a father worth worrying about, if I were you."
Hope had no reply to offer. She had long suspected Cadmus's relationship with his father to be strained and difficult, but she had never been told the full story. In fact, it was becoming increasingly obvious that while Cadmus expected to be told all the details of her own life, he did not see fit to return the favour, which didn't seem fair. On the other hand, he looked sad and lonely in that moment and she felt a terrible pang of sympathy for him, his words jarring as she replayed them in her head. She tried to imagine not wanting to hear Teddy's news after every full moon, not caring whether Dad was well or not, not considering him worth caring about, even.
She couldn't.
"Look, I-"
"I'm fine." He shrugged off the hand she had placed on his shoulder. "Go to quidditch practice or you'll be late."
Feeling more than a little helpless, Hope did as instructed.
O
The following day, he took issue with the fact that she was tired. She had managed to prevent herself from falling asleep on her desk in Defence Against the Dark Arts this time around, but she was unable to concentrate as they made a start on their homework in the library, eventually giving up altogether and resting her head in her arms while Cadmus continued to hunt for relevant books.
"Why are you so tired?" he demanded, coming back from a nearby shelf and dumping the books down next to her with a thud that made her jump.
"Why am I tired?" Hope raised her head and stared at him, bewildered. "What sort of question is that? Why is anyone tired? It's the middle of winter. I'm not sleeping well? I dunno..."
"Oh yeah?" Cadmus sounded disbelieving. "Sure you haven't been staying up all night speaking to someone?"
Hope had not the faintest idea what he was referring to. She tended to stay up later than she should, and she still had the odd conversation with Marion before bed, but that couldn't be what Cadmus was getting at.
"Speaking to someone?"
"Spending all night nattering away to Ravenclaw's golden quidditch hero? God knows what you must get up to together when I'm not around."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Hope snarled. So that was the problem. Baseless jealousy, yet again. "You're being so stupid. Anyway, Mitch likes Rosie Weasley and she likes him back."
"So you admit you would want to get with him if he was available?"
"No. That's not what I said." And it was not what she had meant. Cadmus must know that, so why was he being so difficult?
Then, like a cloud obscured by a sudden ray of sunlight, the outward jealousy and possessiveness faded. He shifted his chair towards her, reached out an arm and pulled her close.
"Sorry," he murmured in her ear. "I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't do that. Of course I know that. I only worry because I love you so much, you know."
I love you so much.
Unbidden into Hope's mind sprung images of other people she knew who loved one another. Her father hugging her mother after a bad day, soothing her when she was upset. Her mother looking after him in return, full moon after full moon. Teddy and Victoire curled up together on their sofa. Bill and Fleur dancing at a family party. Harry and Ginny laughing together over a private joke. Charlie and Alex, eyes shining with emotion as they said their vows.
The list went on.
People who love each other don't treat each other like this.
Or did they? Was this what occurred in the background of all outwardly happy and peaceful relationships? Perhaps her parents always argued in secret, or maybe they were lucky. George and Angelina had their fair share of issues - everyone knew that - and they still loved each other. Ron and Hermione were always bickering, and she had seen Teddy and Victoire snipe at each other on occasion, particularly recently with all the house renovation work. She had heard many a person say that relationships took work and compromise. Maybe this was part of the course.
"I do love you, Hope," Cadmus murmured.
That was her cue to reply and what else could she say? There had been some feeling behind the words when she had spoken them initially, and that feeling must somewhere underneath all the confusion and doubt.
"I love you too."
The words did not sound sincere to her own ears, but Cadmus appeared satisfied.
"You'd better get on top of your sleep though," he finished, kissing her hard on the mouth then drawing back again. "You'll never keep up with work and revision and quidditch otherwise. That's probably why Edgecombe didn't make you captain this year. She must have felt it would all be too much for you."
Hope prickled at the patronising tone.
"I can cope perfectly well, thank you."
"When was the last time you got higher than a P in an essay?"
The words stung. It was true her work was substandard and had been ever since she had first slipped behind on her homework in October, but Cadmus was receiving similar grades. The level of work now expected of them was higher than ever and only a select few, like Elodie and Michael, were keeping their heads above water in all subjects.
"It's not like you're doing any better than me," she huffed.
He raised an eyebrow and got up again to search for books.
"Bit touchy today, aren't you?"
"I don't mean to be touchy. It's just-" She stood up too and tried to explain, looking him in the eye, imploring him to understand. "I don't like it when you make fun of my work, OK? I know I'm not doing brilliantly - I never have. Teddy's the genius of the family, not me, and everyone goes on about it all the bloody time. So can you leave it alone? Please?"
"Merlin, you're so sensitive." He sighed. "There's no need to make a big deal out of it. I was only joking."
"You weren't joking, though."
"Yes, I was."
Then why weren't either of us laughing?
O
The end of term accelerated through the typical Christmas build up, which for the lower years meant an increase in fun, practical work and leniency when it came to the students' waning attention span in classes. The sixth and seventh years were not so fortunate and were kept with their noses to the grindstone up until the final bell. For those of age, however, there was the Underworld Christmas party to look forward to on Saturday night. It seemed to Hope that she was the only student who wasn't enthusiastic about it, and she would have much preferred to stay behind, make the most of the dormitory being deserted and try to get a good night's sleep at last. Cadmus, on the other hand, was keen, and Hope knew if she refused to go herself, he would stay at school with her and make her feel guilty for causing him to miss out on the fun.
So she forced herself out and tried to enjoy it, but the sparkle and spirit she remembered from the night of two years previously did not present itself again. Instead of noticing the unique selection of music, she could only hear incessant noise. This time around, the hoards of dancers in the club meant sweaty, sticky people who trod on your feet and elbowed you. She somehow lost Cadmus in the crowds after a while and went to take a seat at the bar by herself. No one paid much attention to her, which was a relief, but it was hard to sit and remember being here two years ago, happy, excited and full of adrenalin, dancing with Dom and Roxanne, feeling like she didn't have a care in the world. Talking to Adam. Adam may not have been the perfect boyfriend in the end, but at least he had been kind to her. At least she had felt safe with him.
Has it really come to this? Is the situation with Cadmus so bad that you're missing Adam?
Speaking of Adam.
It couldn't be.
It was indeed. James and Adam were fighting their way through the crowd towards the bar. James's face lit up as he spotted Hope and she found herself smiling properly for the first time in days as she jumped up to greet him.
"I didn't know you were coming!" He gave her a bear hug in response that nearly lifted her off her feet, and she held onto him a second longer than necessary before collecting herself. She didn't want James thinking she was weak or pathetic, but the strength and safety in his embrace was comforting to the point of painful. She smiled at Adam, wondering if she should make any move to greet him, but he gave a curt nod and looked over her shoulder towards the bar.
I guess not, then.
"Neither did we until about an hour ago," James laughed. "But we decided we didn't want to miss out on the fun. Matt's on his way too. He'll be happy to see you."
"Great!"
Cadmus won't like you hanging out with other guys. Least of all your ex.
Cadmus shouldn't have gone off and left me then.
"Come on." James turned to the bar and managed to catch the eye of the prettiest and youngest bar tender. "I'll get you a drink. It will be like old times."
"Um-"
"Go on, you know you want to. I'll get you whatever you like."
"Alright, one drink. No shots though. Deal?"
"Deal."
Cadmus was still nowhere to be seen and Hope's guilty conscience switched to irritation. Why shouldn't she have fun without him? He had left her alone in the club without telling her where he was going, therefore he had no right to be annoyed if she found other company in the meantime. James chatted away as they sipped their drinks and Adam continued to avoid eye contact, despite a couple of her attempts to engage in civil conversation.
"Don't mind him." James rolled his eyes as he disappeared off to the bathroom. "He's awkward about the whole thing - didn't even want to come in case we ran into you - but I told him he was being stupid. You were only together a few months! And you've got a boyfriend and he's got a new girlfriend now so what's the problem?"
"He's got a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, met her at work. She's dead boring compared to you, but it's his choice, I suppose."
Hope knew James was only trying to be kind. Adam continued to maintain his distance even after re-joining them, and Hope turned her back on him. If he was going to be a child about it then so be it.
"How's your work?" she asked James. James had recently got himself a job at Gringotts.
"Urgh." James pulled a face. "It sucks - I have to work every day, sometimes even on weekends! But the pay is good and I get to travel so-"
"Not all bad then."
"Nope. What are you thinking of doing when you leave?"
She hesitated, but James of all people would understand. His mother had been a professional quidditch player herself.
"Quidditch is the only thing I'm really good at," she admitted. "So I keep thinking that, maybe, if I keep it up, I'd be in with a chance of - of you know - going pro."
She waited apprehensively, wondering if James was about to make fun of her. To her relief he grinned and slapped her on the shoulder.
"Of course you have a chance, mate! More than a chance! We heard about your last match from Lily. Mum said only the other day she reckons the clubs will be fighting over you straight out of school. Just make sure it's not the Wasps, yeah?" he added, looking scandalised at the very idea. The Wasps were arch rivals of his own team, Aguilas, in the Europeen league.
"Aw, those black and yellow robes though," Hope teased. "I've always wanted some."
"Hello stranger." Hope jumped slightly, then laughed as she saw who had put an arm round her shoulders.
"Matt!"
"You look great. Love the outfit." He eyed her patterned skirt appreciatively.
"Thanks."
"I saw Flint over there, by the way. I think he was looking for you."
Hope felt the smile slide off her face at once. She looked around and saw that, sure enough, Cadmus had returned from his mystery disappearance and was staring over at their little group, eyes dark, mouth in a thin line. The unexpected surge of happiness that had been bubbling up inside her since James's arrival in the club was dampened in an instant.
Cadmus glared at her, then turned and made for the door.
The temptation to stay chatting to James and Matt and let him go off in a sulk nagged at her.
She would have to face him at some point and the longer she left it the worse it would be.
"I have to go," she murmured. "I'm really sorry. It was great to see you guys though."
"Hope, hang on-"
She had already gone. Cadmus was halfway up the lane when she caught up with him.
"Hey wait! Where are you going?"
He rounded on her.
"Having fun with your ex, are you?"
"What? I didn't even speak to Adam. I was with James. My cousin, remember? What's the problem with that?"
He made a sceptical grunt in the back of his throat.
"James isn't your cousin."
"He might as well be."
"And the guy who had his arm around you, he's a might-as-well-be cousin too, is he?"
"Matt Gillwater? You know him. You also know perfectly well that he's gay. What does it matter either way when he was only saying hello?"
"Yes, yes, that's all very convenient. In the meantime, I'm the one standing around all alone looking like an idiot."
How on earth was this her fault?
"It's not like I abandoned you to go and talk to them. I couldn't find you anywhere and I met people I knew so I wanted to have a bit of fun with them. What's wrong with that? Where were you, anyway?" She had a strong suspicion that Cadmus had been smoking something illicit in the back streets behind the bar with the other Slytherins. He did not answer her question, swinging to the defence instead.
"Don't try and deflect blame onto me. It's hurtful, you know. I turn my back for five seconds and you're off dancing with your ex boyfriend."
"I wasn't dancing at all. And definitely not with my ex."
"You were. Stop lying to me."
Hope could have screamed in frustration. The torrent of reproaches continued all the way up the path back to school, as he berated her. Told her she'd hurt him. Said he'd only been outside for a minute longer than planned and had thought she would come and find him but she hadn't. Which couldn't be right, could it? He hadn't even told her he was going outside.
"... should have been a fun night and you've had to ruin it."
Hope had stopped listening. They reached the entrance hall and she stood there, arms folded, eyes glazed, blocking it all out as his rant finally tailed off. It was the only way to stop him from driving her completely insane.
"Fine," he said at last. "As you clearly don't give a shit, I'm off to bed. Thanks for nothing."
Hope could only feel relief as he walked away.
No one was in the dormitory when she got back. Hope brushed out her hair by hand, yanking the knots out of it, then, with a roar of anguish, threw the brush across the room. The handle snapped off completely but she didn't bother going to retrieve it. She lay down on her bed and stared at the canopy above her, unable to get a hold of her thoughts.
This wasn't normal for a relationship. It couldn't be. But then she had nothing to compare it to except the few months of lukewarm sentiment that she and Adam had shared. Which was the reason Cadmus was annoyed in the first place. And he had no proof that she had not been speaking and laughing with Adam tonight the way she had been with James and Matt. But then why should it matter if she had? It would only have been a simple conversation. Hope tried to imagine how she would have felt about Adam talking to Stella when they had been going out. She wouldn't have cared at all. Would she?
The thoughts continued to swirl in an ever more confusing jumble, and Hope was still awake when her dormmates arrived back together, Elodie in the middle, physically supported by Natalie and Marion.
"Hello Hopeless." Elodie was clearly wasted, her hair falling out of its bun, eyes bloodshot, speech slurred.
Hey, at least it's not you for once!
"Someone's had a good night," Hope muttered, as Natalie and Marion deposited Elodie on the edge of her bed.
Marion grinned but Elodie chose to ignore this, waving her wand in a complicated pattern so that her evening outfit was instantly replaced with skimpy pyjamas, hair shaken out of its elaborate style and into its habitual mass of neat curls. How unfair, Hope thought bitterly, that Elodie should still be able to perform her spellwork to perfection even after a night of heavy drinking.
"Why is there half a hairbrush on my bed?" Elodie eyed the top of her duvet suspiciously.
"Oh. It's mine. It broke earlier." Hope caught it with one hand as Elodie threw it back to her with far more force than was necessary.
"Hopeless..." Elodie was glaring at her and Hope summoned the same glazed look she had done for Cadmus, preparing for the usual onslaught of needling comments. She should be old and mature enough to rise above them by now.
"You are so pretty now. You could do way better than Cadmus Flint, you know."
With that, Elodie slumped back onto the duvet, passing out with her eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Hope gaped across at her. Elodie had never paid her a compliment in her life. Marion and Natalie shrugged at her in obvious bewilderment and Hope raised her eyes skywards before lying back down again.
Elodie's words replayed themselves on a loop as she tried without success to fall asleep. She was under no illusions that anything was going to change between them now; the animosity was too ingrained after seven years of solid and mutual dislike. Her recent comment was one induced by too much alcohol and no doubt meant nothing. Yet there was a pattern emerging.
Make sure he treats you how you deserve to be treated.
Did she deserve this? To be berated for simple decisions? Criticised for things that shouldn't even matter? Teased when she had asked him not to?
I want to make sure you're happy.
Hope hadn't been truly happy for years. Unhappiness had been seeping into her life long before her feelings for Cadmus.
She couldn't pretend he was helping.
You could do way better than Cadmus Flint.
Elodie had been talking about her appearance, and looks meant nothing. As a metamorphmagus, Hope knew that more than anyone. Even so, if Elodie Carmichael of all people said Hope could do better, then maybe... she could?
O
It was an enormous relief to get back to the chaotic familiarity of her own home. As long as she messaged Cadmus on her Wiznote every hour or so it seemed to keep him happy, and Hope tried - with limited success - not to dwell on their latest argument. Having ignored her for the whole morning after the Underworld party, Cadmus had greeted her in the afternoon as though nothing had happened, but Hope wasn't forgetting the dispute quite so easily. She replayed his unkind and - in her opinion - unfair words over and over again as she tried to work out what was going on. A break could only do her good, a chance to reassess and take some proper time for herself. There was no denying she felt already better now she was home.
"Hope!" Tonks called out of the office on Christmas Eve morning. "You couldn't run some documents over to Hermione, could you?"
She was sitting surrounded by piles of paper in her corner of the room, looking harassed, and Hope grinned to herself as she hovered in the doorway. The contrast between her mother and father when it came to neatness was so stark it was funny. Dad's side of the office was pristine, everything filed and cross referenced by date with glowing coloured markers. On Mum's side, there were papers scattered over the floor, books strewn everywhere and blotches of ink dropped over the few square centimetres of desk that were still visible underneath the haphazard stacks of parchment.
"I promised I'd get them to her weeks ago and didn't quite manage it, but she's expecting them today. She'll be in, she's working from home. I'm sorry to ask, I just don't know how all this paper stacked up like this and I really should tidy it up before Christmas Day."
Hope obliged. She always liked visiting Ron and Hermione's house, a lovely little cottage out in Somerset. Their garden, in particular, had been a big favourite during the children's younger years, as it had a steep slope that you could sledge down when it snowed and roll down at other times of year when the grass was dry.
"So how's Edgy Edgecombe this year?" Ron enquired, as he wolfed down a piece of toast and drained his tea before heading off to work. Hermione pursed her lips. She disapproved of the nickname and, after what she had witnessed mere weeks ago, Hope wasn't sure she wanted to use it anymore either. There was clearly a lot more going on than met the eye when it came to her defence professor.
"I'm joking, I'm joking!" Ron said hurriedly, seeing their expressions. "Got to get to work anyway or Verity will have sold all the broken stock again. I hear you were one of the first Wiznote customers," he added to Hope, as he pulled on his Wheeze robe. "How are you finding it?"
"It's brilliant!' Hope assured him, which was true. Whether she wanted one or not, there was no faulting the creation itself.
"We can barely keep up with the Christmas ordering," Ron said. "Looks like the whole of Hogwarts will have one by the time you get back to school."
That would be nice, Hope thought vaguely, as Ron departed. Maybe she could message people other than Cadmus.
"How are you getting on in defence classes, anyway?" Hermione enquired, handing her a mug of tea and a couple of biscuits on a plate. "I know you've never really enjoyed them since Professor Edgecombe took over from Professor Izatt."
"Oh, they're alright," Hope said half-heartedly. "And Edgecombe is the same as ever. I don't like her, but I've got used to her in a way, and maybe I was wrong about her hating me. Dom used to say a lot of it was in my head. I'm sort of realising that you never know what's going on with other people... you know. I shouldn't assume that she has it in for me every time I'm in her classroom. She probably has other stuff on her mind."
Hermione looked impressed.
"That is a very astute thing to say," she said quietly. "You're absolutely right. And she hasn't had the easiest life, to be honest. She lost most of her family in the war-" Hope knew this, but Hermione had no idea she and James had been listening to her conversation about the teacher when Edgecombe had first been appointed, "-and her partner was involved in The Surge, died for his crimes in the end. No doubt he was a nasty piece of work but I doubt it erases the feeling of loss for those who loved him. Grief can do terrible things."
Hope stopped short at this with her mug half raised to her mouth. "He was involved in The Surge?" she repeated. "Wait - I thought her partner was a victim of the attacks?"
Hermione looked startled.
"Why on earth would you think that?"
Idiot. The trouble with eavesdropping was that you then had to make sure you didn't give away the information you weren't supposed to know at a later date.
Hermione, after a second's suspicious hesitation, did not ask for details. Hope knew that she, Ron and Harry had done too much illicit procuring of information in their own youth to be too judgmental now.
"No," she said. "He was involved - quite heavily involved, in fact. William Bulstrode. I worked on his trial - posthumously - but I didn't know about his connection to Edgecombe back then. They weren't married. Edgecombe and I were far from close, but we were colleagues for a time when she was an administrator for the Auror department, and that's when I found out they were in a relationship. They had been together for years when The Surge came to a head."
Hope's mind whirred. So Edgecombe's partner had been killed while plotting the events of The Surge. That was interesting. Very interesting indeed.
"William Bulstrode..." she mused. She was certain she had read his name in a book but knew nothing else about him. "How did he die?"
"He was killed in the explosion at their base. The night of The Final Surge."
Mum worked that night, Hope remembered again, recalling the details from the book she had read a few weeks ago. Two Aurors had died. She wondered how close her mother had been to the devastating explosion herself, but had no desire to ask.
Hugo came bounding into the kitchen at this point and snatched up the last chocolate ginger newt from Hope's plate.
"Hugo!" Hermione remonstrated. "Don't be so rude. That was for Hope."
"We must have more. I'm starving." He began rifling through the cupboards.
"Just like Ron," Hermione sighed to Hope. "Never full. We do have more, if you want some."
"I'm alright, thanks."
"You're coming to New Year, aren't you Hope?" Hugo asked through his mouthful. "Rose is going to be studying." He deepened his voice and pulled a disgusted face. "Who studies on New Year's Eve?"
"Oh." Despite what Hope had told Cadmus about going to the Potters', she had vague plans to shut herself up in her room and fall asleep long before midnight. Large gatherings were becoming overwhelming, and without Dom and Roxanne the family New Year celebrations could never be the same as before.
"Not sure," she said. "Might do some studying myself."
"What?" Hugo was so outraged he dropped his third biscuit. "You can't. You're on the non-geek side of the family with me and Lil and James."
Is that a soft way of saying I'm stupid? Hope wondered, but she couldn't feel offended when Hugo was looking at her so hopefully.
"You have to come. Please? It won't be the same without you."
Warmth flared in her chest. It was nice to feel wanted, and she had avoided him and Lily at school ever since the first quidditch match of the year, so irritating did she find their friends. But she loved them both and they were her family - Hugo had just said as much.
"Alright then." She smiled. "I'll be there."
Hope remained deep in thought about her conversation with Hermione that evening. Could it be that Edgecombe blamed the Aurors - including Auror Lupin - for the death of her partner? Edgecombe may not hate her as she had once suspected but there was still something strange going on. Someone taking away your partner - criminal or otherwise - would be enough to make you resent them and by association resent their whole family. Hope tried to imagine how she would feel if someone took Cadmus out of her life, then realised it was a terrible comparison. While she wouldn't wish him dead, the mere thought of life without Cadmus breathing down her neck every day was a breath of fresh air to the lungs.
You need to end it with him.
Hope knew she could not ignore the resounding voice in her head for much longer.
o
"How's Hope doing?" Angelina enquired, offering Remus and Tonks a glass of wine from the bottle she and George had brought with them. Remus shuddered and politely declined. "Roxanne was asking about her in a recent letter. Said she and Dom haven't heard from her for ages."
"Hard to say." Tonks exchanged a worried glance with Remus. "I think she misses them a lot. But she won't talk to us about anything at all. She won't say how school is, or whether she's working hard. She won't even talk about quidditch anymore, although I think she was very disappointed not to be made captain. Teddy says he hasn't spoken to her much either and she used to confide in him even if she didn't tell us anything. She insists she's fine, and she spends most days going out and not telling us where. We've stopped asking her to avoid the rows, but it's such a worry. I think she's meeting up with that Cadmus boy – they're still together. I know we're not supposed to judge and I know people don't always turn out like their parents. But Flint?"
"I saw them!" George clapped his palm to his forehead. "I meant to tell you. They were in Hogsmeade back in September and came into the shop. Looked like they were having fun. I'll be honest, Cadmus seemed like a very polite, straightforward young man. A good customer too."
"And we know Morella," Angelina chipped in. "His sister. She's one of Roxanne's best friends. Bit of a force of nature but she's a lovely girl, nothing like her father."
"That's something, I suppose."
"As for the rows and the going out," Angelina continued. "And the not speaking to you. It will pass. We went through this with Roxanne - it's just a phase."
"Maybe." Tonks ran a hand through her hair. Electric blue tonight, it rippled with paler shades at the agitated touch. Even now, her hair tended to give away her feelings to the outside world against her will.
"I know everyone's different," she said, "I know that, and that's fine. But all the same - I have no idea how to navigate this as a parent. I'm starting to appreciate that we had it really easy with Teddy. So it's especially difficult now, with Hope."
"Most teenagers are difficult," George assured her. "Fred was too, even though we go on about Roxanne. You might be sugar coating your memories of teenage Teddy anyway. Mum always used to go on about Fred and I being the most trouble in the family, remember? But Bill and Charlie weren't angels, I can assure you. And Percy didn't exactly shower himself in glory when he abandoned us and became Fudge's minion for three years, did he?"
Remus nodded thoughtfully but Tonks's worried expression didn't leave her face.
"I reckon girls are harder than boys too," George went on. "Ginny would have been a handful and a half at seventeen if we hadn't been locked in our houses with a war raging on outside."
"Excuse me!" Ginny had appeared behind them and gave him a playful cuff on his remaining ear, but she was smiling. "Talking about Hope?" she added, raising her eyebrows at Tonks. "I know you worry about her, but I don't think you need to. I had a lovely chat with her earlier. Mature and responsible are the first words that come to mind."
"I agree," Hermione added. "I thought that too, when she was round at ours the other day. Rose and Hugo adore her - we're always hearing Hope this and Hope that, and how wonderful she is in her quidditch matches."
Tonks did appear more reassured. "Oh I know," she sighed. "I can't talk, anyway. I was a nightmare when I was a teenager, far worse than she's ever been. I wouldn't change her for anything in this world, you know that. But I am finally beginning to feel bad for what I put my mother through."
o
Upstairs, in the tiny ensuite bathroom off the Potter's smallest guest bedroom, Hope sat slumped against the wall, swilling the contents of a bottle of firewhisky she had poached from downstairs.
She should never have bothered coming in the first place. What had once been her favourite night of the year was fast becoming the opposite. One by one, the Weasley children had all turned of age and, finally allowed to go and party properly, had abandoned the family New Year gathering to have fun with their own friends. But Hope didn't have her own friends, and although her parents had tried to warn her gently that it would be a good idea to make lasting connections outside the family as the years went on, she hadn't listened. She would never admit it out loud but she knew now they had been right. It was too late now.
She had only come tonight because Hugo had persuaded her, and now he was ill anyway, at home with a nasty cold. Lily had gone round to Ron and Hermione's house to keep him company. Rose, as predicted, had stayed home to study, already stressing about her NEWTs despite the twelve outstanding OWLs she had banked herself the previous summer. Louis was in France with his Beauxbatons friends. Percy and Audrey had taken the girls on a skiing holiday, which Ron thought was hysterical. Hope had to admit she was looking forward to seeing photos of Percy skiing. James had long been too cool for the family gatherings, which left Albus and Scorpius. Hope had thought it would be OK. She was fond of them both and they often had fun together, but that night she had felt so separate, very much the odd one out, and in the end she had crept from the room, grabbing a bottle from the kitchen table as she passed.
She paused by the living room at first. Maybe she could spend the evening with the adults instead. She was an adult herself now, after all, and she had enjoyed talking to Hermione the other day, and to Ginny when she had arrived at the house earlier. Ginny was bound to have advice on being recruited by a professional quidditch team after school if she could build up the courage to ask her. Then Hope heard her mother speaking.
"… had it really easy with Teddy," she was saying. "It's especially difficult now, with Hope."
The words thudded into her skull one by one and she drew back her hand as though the door handle had burned her.
Hearing Hermione and Ginny coming down the hall, Hope tiptoed upstairs, found the smallest bedroom at the back end of the house and shut herself in its tiny ensuite bathroom. She could hardly be surprised, could she? It wasn't a secret that Teddy was the cleverer, easier, more successful sibling. She had been told as much time and time again.
"You're nothing like your brother."
"Teddy was cool. Hope is a hopeless loser."
"We had it really easy with Teddy."
There was no denying the words had hurt far more coming from her own mother.
How long she sat there, in her own little world, sipping the firewhisky, she wasn't sure, but she was finally brought out of her reverie by the sound of the bedroom door being opened and closed. She stiffened. This wasn't the most ideal situation to be found in, although did she care, at this point?
Not really.
Then she pricked up her ears with interest at the sound of Scorpius's voice.
"Al, really? Here?"
"No one ever comes in here. Someone could easily come in my bedroom."
"I guess, but if someone comes in your bedroom, it will be a lot easier to explain than if they find us here."
"Will you stop worrying for five seconds."
"That's a bit rich coming from the person who won't admit to anyone else we're together!" Scorpius didn't sound too annoyed, but there was an immediate silence.
"I will tell people. You know I will. I just-"
"I know," Scorpius said. "I was joking Al, don't worry. We'll tell people when you're ready, not before then. It's New Year's Eve. Shut up and kiss me."
Hope, in her drunken haze, smirked to herself. About bloody time. She thought back to when Albus had dated Natalie the previous year. Quite apart from being disgusted in him – surely he could do better than her – she had not been blind to what it had done to Scorpius, noting how his attitude had changed in those few months, how he had seemed so much quieter and more withdrawn. And having sat through many an evening overhearing Natalie complain to the other girls in her dormitory that Albus did not want to do anything other than kiss, even though Natalie was more than willing (gross), Hope hadn't been surprised when they had broken up after three months.
She wondered how long it had taken Albus to realise the right person had been there all along.
"Hang on," Scorpius mumbled. "Be right back."
Shit. He was coming towards the bathroom, and there was nothing Hope could do about it. Apparating out of there instantly might have been an option, but as she had not had a successful apparition lesson to date, she suspected Scorpius would prefer to discover her alive and eavesdropping rather than finding her mangled, splinched remains.
"Merlin's-" Scorpius gave a hiss of alarm and leapt backwards slightly as he opened the door and saw Hope sitting there. "What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry." Hope rocketed to her feet, the sudden movement causing her head to spin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hear, really. I'll - I'll just go."
She left the bathroom. Albus was standing in the bedroom looking shellshocked at her sudden appearance, his hair dishevelled, his shirt half unbuttoned. He cast an apprehensive look at Scorpius and then back to Hope.
"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about," she assured them. "Although it shouldn't be a secret, if you're both happy. That's all that matters, isn't it?"
"Well thanks," he said awkwardly. "But Hope, what are you doing up here? We've barely seen you all evening. Are you OK?"
She shrugged then nodded. Truth be told, she had never felt less OK in her life.
"I'm fine," she said, managing a smile. "Just drank a bit too much, I think."
Scorpius was still hovering by the bathroom door, eyeing her worriedly. She couldn't bear the looks of concern on their faces. They were younger than she was. She should be helping them, setting an example for them, not allowing them to discover her hiding in a bathroom alone with a bottle of alcohol.
"Tell my parents I've gone home, yeah?" she said. "I'll floo back. Say I got bored or something."
"Hope," Scorpius protested. "If you want to hang out, really, we'd like to. We didn't mean to-"
Hope shook her head and traipsed downstairs, the clunk of her footsteps muffled by the sounds of laughter in the living room. She placed the now depleted bottle back on the table of drinks in the mercifully empty kitchen, and made towards the fireplace.
Travelling by floo, it turned out, was not to be advised after two thirds of a bottle of firewhisky. Hope made it home and staggered to the bathroom, where she collapsed in front of the toilet, retching violently.
She remembered the party not so very long ago when Roxanne, fifteen at the time, had overdone the drink herself. Dom and Hope had sat with her in her bedroom while she retched into a bucket, Hope occasionally leaving the room disguised as one of the other girls so that no one would get suspicious about their absence. Dom had held her cousin's hair back while she was sick over and over again, and Hope had brought her water. And eventually when she was feeling better they had brought her some salty snacks and a strong cup of coffee from downstairs, giggling together all the while as Roxanne sobered up. By midnight, she had been right as rain, and her parents had never suspected a thing.
There was no one to hold Hope's hair back now. No one to bring her water. No one to laugh with and distract her from the horrible feeling of sickness.
Eventually, stomach completely voided, Hope climbed into bed, the world still spinning, and drifted into an uneasy sleep, just as the clock struck twelve.
oOo
January
The benefit of emptying your stomach the night before was that the alcohol did not fester in your system overnight, and, emotional state aside, Hope felt reasonably well when she awoke the next morning. The same could not be said for her mother, who she found sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, still in her dressing gown and hair askew. Her father looked cheerful and neat in contrast, breezing around the kitchen flicking his wand at the kettle and the stove.
"What's up, Mum?"
Tonks let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a groan.
"Your mother appears to have overindulged," Remus said mildly. "I imagine George and Angelina's elf made wine was the principle culprit."
"Oh shut up."
"My dearest Dora, you can hardly deny it. You had more than everyone else put together."
Tonks narrowed her eyes at him.
"Oh I'm Remus. I'm so cheerful because I never drink anymore," she muttered to the table top. "Look how chirpy I am every bloody day."
Remus's eyes sparkled with silent amusement as he winked at Hope. She grinned reluctantly.
"Happy New Year," he added. "You left early last night."
"I got bored."
"Yes, Al did mention," he said. "We are getting old, I suppose, none more so than me, so I can't imagine our company is too exciting. Someone may have done well to leave earlier too." He glanced pointedly at his wife.
"You're pushing it Lupin," Tonks growled. "Leave me to my hangover in peace."
"Here." He softened, pouring a fresh mug of coffee and placing it in front of her, then sent a cascade of sugar into it with a further twitch of his wand. "Drink that. And I'll make some bacon and mushrooms, how does that sound?"
Hope could tell from the suppressed smirk that her mother was not really annoyed, but she refused to reply.
"Poached eggs on the side?"
She determinedly avoided his gaze. Hope was suddenly reminded of the Longbottoms' old dog, a Labrador-Krup cross named Sandy, who had always turned his head away in a sulk and avoided eye contact if he was being told off.
"How about some hash browns?" Remus continued smoothly. "Lovely greasy potatoes and a ton of salt. That's got to help, surely?"
Silence.
"Very well, a hangover cure potion it is. You know what an expert potion brewer I am, so it shouldn't take me long."
Tonks took a large gulp of her coffee.
"Smug git."
"Hmm I thought so." His tone was patronising - yet jokingly so - as he leaned over to kiss her on the top of the head.
Hope, who had been laughing along at first, now watched their light hearted exchange, a sudden lump swelling in her throat.
"Want to help make breakfast?" Remus asked, turning back to her.
How much would she have loved to spend the day inside with her parents, in the warm, poking fun at her mother's hungover, relaxing and making food, maybe playing some card games. A chance to show them that she wasn't difficult at all, rather confused and lonely and unable to say the right thing.
But she had said she would meet Cadmus. It was now more important than ever that she did.
"I'm going out."
"OK. Dare I ask where you're going?"
"Just out. I won't be long."
"Hope-"
She had already shut the door behind her.
O
She was going to break up with Cadmus. She was. She had too. He was unkind to her and he made her feel unsafe and she had spent recent weeks tiptoeing round him, walking on a bed of eggshells, not knowing if she was about to be mocked or belittled or criticised. Yet her parents were living proof that kind, reciprocal relationships could exist. So she would settle for that or nothing at all, and maybe if she broke up with him she could also confide in her parents, explain to them why she had been so confused and lost. They, in turn, might understand why she had been so... difficult.
Cadmus's parents were still away and Morella was at a friend's house, much to Hope's relief. They walked right to the end of the vast garden and sat down on the ornate stone bench which overlooked the lake beyond the borders of the Flints' land. Once seated, with the perfunctory recounts of New Year's Eve over and done with, Hope plucked up every ounce of courage and took a deep breath.
"Listen, we need to talk."
He glanced sideways and narrowed his eyes at her, for which she couldn't blame him. Even her own limited experience had taught her that "we need to talk" rarely signalled anything good.
"I'm not sure I can be with you anymore."
"What?"
Stay strong. Remember how you felt this morning.
"I - I don't feel it's right. Us. Not anymore."
She despised herself for saying the words that Adam had used to break up with her. Although at least she was doing it in person, not over owl.
Cadmus gaped at her. "You're - you're breaking up with me?"
"I'm sorry." Hope was beginning to lose her nerve, faced with the darkness smouldering in his eyes. "But - but we're very different people and - and I don't think I want... this."
"Why not?"
"I - well - I just don't. I don't think this relationship is right."
"But why?"
"Does there need to be a reason?"
Adam hadn't given her a reason, had he? She had accepted that he no longer wanted to be with her, believing that was what you did when someone broke up with you.
"There must be one."
"It's not one specific thing."
"There must be something. You don't turn around and decide to break up with someone out of the blue. We were fine a week ago."
We weren't fine though, were we? You accused me of cheating on you and shouted at me and then spent a whole morning ignoring me.
Hope tried to think of a way to put it into words without sounding too accusatory.
"Well... you - you get annoyed with me. You don't tell me things. You-" are downright cruel to me and I never know how you're going to react and I'm afraid of you.
That was the crux of it, wasn't it? Somehow she couldn't say it out loud.
"I don't tell you things?" Cadmus repeated, coldness piercing every syllable. "What sort of things? What do you want to know?"
"It's not one thing in particular." Hope floundered in her attempts to explain. This was not going how she had intended at all. A mature, simple conversation was all she had wanted. An adult discussion where they agreed that maybe it was for the best that they didn't see each other any more. Clearly that had been too much to hope for.
"This is about thestrals, isn't it?"
"No, it's not anything specific. It's-"
Cadmus was having none of it.
"Fine," he snarled. "Fine. You want to know why I can see thestrals? You want to know who I saw die?"
"I didn't say that. It's not my business."
"My sister."
Stunned into silence, Hope blinked at him.
"My little sister." He scowled out at the frozen lake in front of them. "She died of Knarl Flu when I was seven. She was too young to respond to treatment. I was with her, the day it happened."
His jaw was clenched. A tremor passed through his broad shoulders. Hope's heart was thudding deep in her chest.
"I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't," he said roughly. "I didn't tell you. And Morella, for all she can't keep her mouth shut about most things, wouldn't have told anyone, not even your Weasley friends. Not this. She can't talk about it. It upsets her too much."
His voice was thick.
"I'm - I'm really sorry."
"Whatever." He folded his arms over his chest. "It doesn't matter. Leave me, you clearly want to."
Pity and guilt curdled together in her chest. She couldn't break up with him now, could she? Not after what he had just told her. That would make her heartless and cruel, and she had wanted to break up with him for being the cruel one.
Was this the reason for his moods, his temper, his inconsistent behaviour? Did the memory of his childhood tragedy continued to haunt him week in week out? Hope had been told over and over again how much Teddy had adored her from the day she had been born. How he had looked out for her, protected her, worried about something happening to her. Maybe he wouldn't be the Teddy they all knew and loved today if a similar tragedy had occurred in his early years. Hermione had said as much a week ago. Grief can do terrible things.
Cadmus accepted her hug as she put her arms around him, pulling her close and burying his face in her shoulder. Maybe this was a turning point. If he did have a gentler side to him, this admission was surely what was going to bring it out. She held him for a long time and he did not pull away.
"You won't tell anyone," he muttered, as they broke apart. "I couldn't bear people knowing."
"Of course I won't."
"Swear to me."
"I - I swear."
O
What a failure of a day, Hope thought miserably, as she traipsed back home, having stayed with Cadmus long into the night. She had set off that morning telling her parents she would be back soon, with the intention of breaking up with Cadmus and spending the rest of the day confiding in them. Instead, the clock was striking out its eleventh hour when she finally returned home, she was now deeper into the relationship than ever before and she couldn't talk about it properly with anyone, because she had sworn not to.
Great start to the new year. And on top of that she was no doubt going to get a bollocking for being out so late.
Sure enough, both her parents were still up when she slipped back into the house.
"Where have you been?" her mother demanded at once.
"Out, I told you."
Tonks glared at her, her face grey and her eyes heavy with tiredness.
"We've been worried sick. I'm not exactly feeling great today, I'm working tomorrow, and staying up until eleven thinking something had happened to you was the last thing I needed."
"Whose fault is it if you don't feel well?"
But the time for laughing about her mother's overindulgence the night before had long passed. Remus's eyes flashed with steel and Hope knew she was treading on thin ice yet again. Only once had she pushed him to the point of snapping completely, the previous year, and enduring his angry outburst had been a highly unpleasant experience which she had no desire to repeat.
"It's eleven o'clock at night in the middle of winter," he said. His voice was calm but she could hear the edge to it. "And we had no idea where you were."
"I'm of age and I can look after myself."
"Yes, but when you are living here, we would like to know when you're going to be home and where you go. It can't be too much to ask that you at least tell us where you are if you're going to be out after dark."
Hope folded her arms and stared down at the floor. He sighed.
"Hope, we're trying to be patient. I'm sure you have a lot going on with work and school and friends and we both remember what teenage life was like, old as we must seem to you. But I'll be honest, you are making this very difficult for us."
Yes, well, I am difficult, aren't I? That's what Mum said last night.
The words were on the tip of her tongue. Perhaps it would have been better if she had said them, had it out, allowed the resentment and guilt and sadness and confusion to pour out at last. For one painful, shimmering second she could picture the scene, as she confessed to them that she was unhappy, so unhappy. With Cadmus, with school, with everything. Comfort and reassurance would surely be provided, even if their disappointment in her remained. They were her parents. They would still be there for her if she needed them.
Wouldn't they?
The image faded. She couldn't be sure. She kept her lips sealed. It was habit by now.
"Next time I'll tell you where I'm going, and I'll be back on time, OK?"
And she stormed upstairs without a backwards glance.
OOO