The House of Hawke has been called the traitorous, filthy and scum house the entire time that name was known to the living.
Past or future, one would accompany it with the adjective "Horrifying".
It was a matter of grief for the youngest daughter...
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Herne Bay, Kent, 1980 September 26th, glum and gloomy
They say life maintains a balance, one happy moment has a price to pay.
When Sirius and I return after a week, James won't return our patronus. Neither would Lily, Alice, Frank, Remus, Marlene or Dorcas. Not even Peter, he always answers.
When James does, we wish he hadn't.
Sirius and I rush to Kent, quick on our feet when we're outside the McKinnon mansion.
"What happened?" I ask as soon as we discern our friends.
They sit morosely, glasses of liquor filled to the brim in front of everyone. "What happened?" I ask again.
Sirius must realise I'm stressing the fuck out so he holds my hand, squeezes it and presses a kiss to my palm.
"She's dead."
All of them flinch while we turn to look at Marlene. I hadn't noticed her here at first but now that I have — there is mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes are bloodshot and there's a bitter smile on her face as she says it.
"Dorcas is dead."
My grip on Sirius' hand loosens until it's hanging limply, "What?"
"Did you not hear me, Elena?" Marlene comes forward a step, wearing clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in a while. Dust and soot covering half of it.
"It can't be," Sirius whispers, "She can't be —"
"Dead?" Marlene turns to him, "Oh, no," She laughs humourlessly, "She is, though. Very dead, really. So dead that you could never mistake her for anything else."
A baby wails. I look at Lily who's tightly gripping little Harry in her arms. He looks like he's just woken up, there's drool dropping down her chin and his eyes are glossy green. I wish he didn't have to witness this. I wish he had a normal childhood.
I wince and Sirius turns to James. "Prongs?"
"She was killed by him personally," He says with a mock smile. "Voldemort."
Peter who's sitting a few armchairs away shrieks. Marlene averts her eyes toward him, "Scared?"
No one says anything as she moves blankly towards Peter, "Scared, Peter? She was, too."
"Marls —" Lily shakily called.
"Don't fucking 'Marls' me!" Marlene scowled. "She was scared! She called and called and called for Aurors but no one fucking came! How many?" She asks Frank, "How many patronuses did she send you, Longbottom?"
"I was on my way —"
"On your way, huh?" She grins. Dead, dead, dead eyes. "How much time did it take to apparate? Half an hour apparently."
