❝ a darkness that holds me,
and loves when I bleed,
it locks all the doors and then hides all the keys,
wish someone had told me what I couldn't see,
a glimmer of hope that was staring at me ❞
fred weasley x fem!oc
golden trio era
rewr...
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IT WAS NEARING TWO weeks of having been living within the walls of 12 Grimmauld Place. Rebecca was shown to a freshly starched room by Remus, actively choosing to skip out on what would be a very awkward dinner. A large four-poster bed sat in the very middle of the room, set with emerald colored sheets and nearly twelve pillows of all different sizes. There was a large empty bookshelf, her trunk at the foot of the bed, and a few empty picture frames already stacked atop the cleaned glimmering desk in the corner. It had seemed that Sirius had subtly pushed the idea of wanting her to decorate the room herself and with her own things – to make it her own.
And while the thought was there, Rebecca still felt off about the whole ordeal. She felt as if she were back to stepping on eggshells around the Carrow House, avoiding human contact and craving the solitude only four walls could bring her. The mornings for breakfast had become extremely awkward as well, the Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, had immediately scowled at the sight of a pajama-clad Rebecca as she made her way into the kitchen for the first time to eat a meal with her father. His big, beady eyes boring into her own before he turned his nose up in disgust at the mere sight of her.
"The halfblooded brat returns – scum in the sacred home once more," He drawled darkly, having reluctantly pulled out a chair for her next to Sirius who sat at the head of the table, "my poor Mistress shall turn in her grave –"
"That's enough, Kreacher," Sirius barked out, glaring at the elf, "get a move on – plenty of things for you to do," He uttered in annoyance, "Her surname is Black, and you serve her like you serve all those bearing the name."
"Oh yes, Master Sirius," Kreacher bowed overdramatically, narrowing his eyes as he glanced briefly between father and daughter, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of Black – a million apologies to Master Sirius and the halfblooded Mistress."
"He doesn't have to call me–"
"Leave it be," Sirius uttered, giving a slight shake of his head as his eyes combed over the newspaper in his hands, "there's no use trying with him."
Despite Kreacher being present and waiting, quite impatiently, in the far corner of the kitchen for orders, Rebecca shuffled over towards the coffee machine to pour herself a steaming mug. Sirius had eyed her from over the newspaper, his mouth opening just a bit to question the action before Remus entered the kitchen as well. He'd be lying to say his lips didn't curl down into a small scowl at the sight of his own daughter smiling cheerily at the other man, happily pouring him out a mug of the drink. He watched them both converse, as if in their own little world, beginning to take out some eggs and sausages and bread, gathering some pans from the rack above.
