Malcolm
My face was covered with blood, some of it being mine but most of it being Jeremy's.
My dear little brother sat against the wall, spitting blood into the floor as he broke into laughter.
"Good to see you haven't gone completely soft." He grinned. "You've still got some fight left in you. That's good. Being the middle child you always had to fight to be noticed... for a minute you scared me. Thought you lost what made you so special."
"Get up." I said. "I want you out of my house."
"Oh c'mon, dear brother. You haven't even had a drink yet."
I laughed before I yelled at him.
"Get out of my fucking house!"
Jeremy pulled himself to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
"I'm gonna lose my daughter because of you." I said.
"You did that to yourself, mate. You ruined your family, not me."
"You ruined Leah." I said. "She has been seeing a psychologist for ten years because of you. My daughter can't sleep in the dark because of you!"
"Does it look like I actually care, Malcolm?" He asked and I didn't get to answer before footsteps approached, making both of our heads turn.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?"
Oh shit.
"Look at you two. Why are you both covered in blood? Why is there vodka on the floor?!"
"Why do you have your suitcase with you?" I asked and looked at the suitcase that stood next to her.
"Because I'm staying, dumbass." She gave me one of her famous sassy looks and I scoffed. "Malcolm, Jeremy... explain yourselves!"
I laughed.
"Great. Fifteen years later, you show up out of nowhere and you just expect to stay in my house? You can't just walk in here..."
"I came through the fireplace in the dining room." She said. "Now, what time is it here in England? Is your children asleep, Malcolm? I haven't seen the oldest since she was two."
"Her name is Elenora." I said. "They aren't here."
Jada raised an eyebrow.
"Dahlia divorced him ten years ago." Jeremy said. "Since then he has lived a pathetic life, dependant on alcohol and violence."
I laughed, wiping the blood off my lips with the back of my hand.
"That's rich coming from you."
"Coming from me? Mate you've turned into dad."
"Alright, go get your faces cleaned up, will you?" Jada asked with a sigh and as Jeremy walked past me, I grabbed him by the arm.
"You're gonna walk out through that front door and you're not gonna come back."
I dragged him into the foyer, opened the door and pushed him out into the cold before slamming the door shut, putting a locking spell on it that only I could remove.
"Malcolm?" Jada asked and I turned to look at her. "What was that? You can't just kick him out like that... he's our brother."
I ignored her, walking down the hallway to the bathroom.
As I cleaned my face up, my older sister showed up in the doorway, looking at me.
"What did he do?" She asked. "Why are you so angry with him?"
I looked at her through the mirror, letting out a small laugh.
"You'd know if you were around." I said. "I haven't seen you for fifteen years, Jada. You can't just walk through the door after that long."
Jada sighed.
"As I remember, you were the one screaming at me to leave." She said. "And we've written each other since, though I haven't heard from you since Leah was born. Twelve years."
Sighing, I turned towards her.
"I fucked my marriage up. She ran into the arms of a Weasley, then Jeremy molested Leah, tried to molest Elenora too... and now my oldest daughter hates me which she has the right to."
Jada stared at me from where she shook, shock written all over her face. She ran a hand over her mouth before she let out a breath.
"That's why Jeremy was in Azkaban."
She said, and it didn't sound like a question. "I knew that boy was messed up already when he was little. Do you remember when he killed that bird and had no remorse whatsoever?"
I nodded.
"Are your girls okay?" She asked. "That must've been so..."
"Leah was two." I said. "She's twelve now but she's got nightmares and she's got a psychologist. I don't know if Elenora is during okay at the moment. She doesn't want to see me. She's cut me out of her life."
"Oh Malcolm." She breathed. "What have you done?"
"Jada, I don't need your judgemental behaviour right now. I'm working on myself, okay? I'm in therapy, I've been sober since summer and I'm trying to get custody of Leah again."
"And Dahlia?" She asked. "Is she okay?"
I shrugged.
"She's happy."
Dahlia
"Dahlia, could you come downstairs for a second?!" George shouted throughout the house as I rubbed my stomach in coconut oil to prevent stretch marks.
So far, it had worked. I was thirty-five weeks pregnant and I had no stretch marks whatsoever.
During the twins pregnancy, I only got one so it was most definitely effective.
Sighing, I closed the lid on the coconut oil and pulled my shirt down before getting up and leaving the room.
George stood at the end of the stairs, smiling up at me.
"Hypothetically... what would you say if I came home with a litter of kittens?"
I stopped on the middle of the stairs, staring at him.
"George... did you bring home kittens?"
"I said hypothetically." He hurried to say. "Would you be angry?"
I folded my arms over my chest.
"I got angry when you brought Charley home without telling me."
George smiled.
"And now you love him."
"I don't hate dogs and cats anymore." I said and continued to walk down the stairs. "I've resolved that trauma in therapy..."
"So would you be angry?"
I shrugged.
"Dunno. Did you bring kittens home, George?"
His smile grew bigger and he reached for my hands.
"George, we have a dog." I sighed before he kissed me.
I stepped down the last step, my body touching his and George raised his hands to push my hair away from my shoulders before he kissed me.
"I didn't adopt them. I found them. Someone left them in a box by the dumpsters behind the shop." He told me. "I took them to a vet. They're around eight weeks old, healthy. We don't have to keep them but I would like for you to consider it. We've got plenty of space both inside and outside."
I sighed.
"How many are there?"
George bit down on his lip, his face showing the fear of saying the number.
"Six."
