𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨-𝙧.𝙖.𝙗

𝟬𝟭-𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱

THREE MUGGLES ARE DEAD.

There are three muggles who were alive last night and now they are dead. They were tucked in their home, warmth from the summer sun still lingering on their skin, hot dinner in their bellies, laughter still in their throat. And when the sun rose over the hills, touched down though their windows, their bodies were cold, lifeless and empty. Three muggles are dead, and Jo is just standing there.

She read it in the Prophet this morning, and it took her three times over to fully comprehend it. She sat there in her living room, the paper going limp in her hands. Three dead muggles, and the vile worms who did it are unknown, on the run, and not rotting in Azkaban where they should be.

Her arms are crossed over her chest as she stands on the platform, watching the way her mother fawns and dots over her brother. James is flushed, blushing and trying to swat away his mother's attentive hands but it's to no use. Euphemia Potter is teary eyed, tugging on his robes, trying to flatten out his hair, and holding back her cries. And Jo thinks she should be laughing at the way the two of them are interacting ("You'll write me every week then?" "Probably not, no,") but her thoughts are heavy, sagging down on her shoulders. They make her tired, weak.

Sirius Black, on the other hand, is grinning ear to ear at the display in front of him, an elbow propped up on Jo's shoulder as he watches. "How many times do you think he'll be writing her a week?" Sirius teases into her ear.

"Reckon he's already got the first couple of them drafted out," Jo responds. She leans up against Sirius's chest, and he swings an arm over her shoulder. "She keeps every letter he sends her. She must have about a hundred stored up in her room just from last year."

"Hmm," Sirius muses, "I'll have to read them all sometime."

It's as if the sound of Sirius's voice reminded her mother of the two, and she releases James at once, outstretching her arms towards Jo and Sirius. "You two didn't think you'd get away without saying goodbye to your dear old mother?"

Sirius is the first to embrace her, with a tight hug around her waist. Sirius lifts her feet above the ground, holding her tight to his chest. "I'll be writing you twice as much as your no good son, Mia," Sirius coos into Euphemia Potter's ear. "I'll miss you," he says to her, and Jo watches as her grip on Sirius's shoulders tightens.

Jo watches with a slight twitch in her heart. "Oh, I'll miss you too, darling. Take care of yourself this year, yes?" she asks, pulling away and cupping his cheeks between her hands. "Good boy."

And now, it's her turn. Euphemia Potter turns towards her daughter, eyes watery and there's a tug in her gut. "Josie."

Jo buries her face in her shoulder, taking her scent of wildflowers and honey. The bustling noises of the platform are drowned and she nestles into her mother's robes. "I'll miss you, Mum," she whispers, and means it. In her mother's arms, Jo feels safe.

Her mother pats down her curls, smoothing them against the back of her neck. "I'll miss you too, darling. Be careful this year, alright? You promise me you will?"

Jo nods. "I promise."

"And watch out for your brothers, dear, will you?" she asks, voice wavering in her ear. "I know they think they're the ones who should be looking after you but, oh well, just try to keep them in line, will you?"

When Jo pulls away from her mother, she has a tight smile on her face and says, "I'll be watching them like a hawk."

James, from a little ways down the platform, calls, "Oi! Hurry it up there, Josie!"

Euphemia places a kiss on her daughter's forehead and lets her go, "I'll see you at Christmas, dear."

It takes a lot of strength for Jo to turn away from her mother. And as she does, the safety that she felt while with her sinks away, replaced by that unbearable feeling that something is wrong, that there's something different. Jo approaches her brother with a harsh shove to his arm. He stumbles out of the way, and Jo climbs on the train ahead of him. "I was saying goodbye to Mum, you tosser," she chides.