"Why can't we go?!" I asked Uncle Severus on July twenty seventh. Vincent, Gregory, and I were sitting on the sofa in Vincent's sitting room. Mr. and Mrs. Crabbe and Goyle, Wyatt, and Uncle Severus stood in front of us. Scabior stood beside me.
"Eleanor, you can't even walk on your own, much less hunt some on down. Or even fly on a broom."
"From what I've heard, you can't ride on a broom anyway." Wyatt put in. I sneered.
"Well, we are well and can fly." Gregory referred to himself and Vincent.
"It isn't safe!" Clarissa's voice was full of worry, like usual.
"We knew what we were getting into when we got the Marks." Vincent tried to use his usual, responsible voice to try to persuade them otherwise. Lovell was not swayed by his son's smooth talking.
"You kids are not going and that is final. You will stay here, and we will report anything to you when we get back." The three of us sat, silently grumbling. Mike checked his watch.
"Well, we should go. It's really close to time."
"You're right." Uncle Severus turned to us. "You three do not try anything sneaky, sly, or underhanded. Scabior, make sure they do just as I have asked." My uncle paused, waiting for a response. Scabior shook his head. "Now, if you have no other questions for us, we will be leaving." Uncle Severus looked at the rest of the men, and they all agreed.
Hugs were given to wives and children, except Uncle Severus, who gave me a stern hand squeeze. We all understood how dangerous this could be. All we knew was that the Order of the Phoenix was planning on transferring Harry Potter somewhere else from his home, and soon. So, they all left; Uncle Severus, Mike, Lovell, and Wyatt. Both wives departed into the kitchen, leaving Vince, Gregory, Scabior and I alone in the sitting room. After a few moments I finally spoke.
"This isn't fair." I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Vincent put an arm around me, so I leaned onto his shoulder.
"I know." He replied. "We are just as capable as they are! And we are seventeen!"
"I'm not..."
"Besides you."
"Yeah! Are adults! We can do what we want!" Gregory hopped up, hitting his fist into the palm of his hand.
"Except for you're not." Scabior simply looked at him. Gregory uncomfortably shifted before sitting back down.
"Oh, well." He sighed. "This weeks is just awful. First I abandon Sarah Beth, then this." I lifted my head.
"What happened with Sarah Beth?"
"I left her... at a restaurant... with the check..."
"You what?!" Vincent exclaimed suddenly, making me jump.
"I couldn't help it! You-Know-Who had a meeting that night! The Mark was burning! I couldn't just stay there!"
"Didn't you come back for her?"
"Yeah, but she had already left!"
"Have you talked to her since then?"
"No, I'm afraid to!"
"Worse move you could make." Scabior sat down in the love seat across from us. "Not explaining yourself will cause more problems than trying to avoid it, especially with women."
"I guess you're right."
"I know I'm right."
"Scabior is always right." I chimed. He laughed.
"No, not always."
"Yes, yes always." We fell into a kind of silence, and then Gregory spoke.
"Hey, if Scabior is your last name, then what is your first name?"
"It doesn't matter I don't use it."
"But you have one, right?"
"Not anymore. It is legally changed. I am just Scabior now."
"But you weren't always." The subject of his real name had started to feed my curiosity, so I was going to push for him to tell.
"But I am now."
"But we want to know!" Gregory whined.
"And you don't need to know."
"How much younger are you than my dad?" Vincent asked him.
"Why?"
"He's the same age as my father." I replied. "So five years."
"Okay. I'll be back." Vincent took his arm out from around me and got up, leaving the room. When he came back, he was holding a thick, leather bound book.
"What's that?"
"Dad's senior year book." He sat back down beside me. He opened it up on his lap and started leafing through, looking for my father's class; the second years. When he found them, he looked for the S's, only to become very disappointed. "There's a page missing!"
"the page you are suppose to be on!" Gregory pointed to Scabior, who was knowingly grinning.
"How?" I looked at him as well. How did he have the page ripped out? Because it was obviously his doing.
"It's a secret." He let out a breathy chuckle at our expense. "You might as well give up because you're never going to find it. I've wiped away all evidence of my old name."
"Hm." I leaned back onto Vincent. He put his arm around me again, pulling me close. I looked up and gave him a quick kiss before cuddling up against him. It was going to be a long, long night.
.................................................
We sat for a long time, just making casual conversation. Eventually, it came time for another dose of potions and Vincent gave me some. The mixture of liquids made me groggy, like always, so I leaned against Vincent as my eyelids got heavy. He kissed the top of my head and my forehead as I drifted off, cuddling against him. After a while, Vincent spoke.
"Elle, would you like to sleep in my bed? You could just stay here tonight, if you want."
"Yeah." I replied, sitting up.
"I'll take that as a yes." Scabior laughed. Vincent did as well.
"Can you walk to my room? Or do you need some help." Vincent stood up and got my crutches. I nodded my head, waking up a bit better.
"Yeah, I can get there myself, but I need help standing up." I didn't have to say another word. A moment later, Scabior was helping me. When I was up, Vincent handed me the crutches and started leading me to the doorway. I was just out of there when we heard the front door open. The mission must have ended.
Gregory got up behind us, but froze when he heard several loud gasps come from the kitchen. Clarissa or Charlotte screamed, but we couldn't tell which one. We all looked at each other; something wasn't right.
Vincent looked at me, confused. I frowned and shook my head.
The four of us got there as fast a we could. Gregory arrived first, then Vincent, and I, who head paused when we saw it, then Scabior, who stopped right behind us.
Standing in front of the front door was all of the men that had left. All of them were looking down, paled. Charlotte was on the ground, uncontrollably sobbing. I almost fell over because I started to drop my crutches from shock, but luckily I was caught by Scabior, who, somehow, didn't look phased. Vincent ran to his mother and grabbed her hand and had tears in his eyes. None of us took out gazes off of Lovell, who was standing in the middle of it all.
For in his arms was the limp, lifeless body of his eldest son.
