just for me ⚘ a Fred Weasley Fanfiction

31. waiting for a knock at the door

Juniper spent the first month of the holidays convincing herself that it was just a coincidence that Esme had been missing the entire time. She probably went on a holiday and forgot to say anything, or moved house and forgot to say anything, or completely cut ties with Juniper and forgot to say anything.
But it didn't stop her from sleeping on a couch, facing the front door, each and every night of July, waiting for Esme to burst through that door in a floor length dress and expensive fur coat, sucking in a cigarette while bragging about a new man, like nothing had ever happened.
Needless to say, Juniper deteriorated over the month. For the first week she was fine, eating three meals a day, cleaning every room top to bottom, showering daily. But by July 31st, she only made simple snacks once or twice a day, trying to limit the time she spent away from door watching.
She shifted through the letters that were delivered, mainly from Hermione, but didn't bother to open any since they weren't from Esme. 
The fox that Esme mentioned last summer made an appearance, scratching at the door every few days, but leaving once it realised Juniper wasn't going to give it any food.

Once the sun began to set on August 1st, there was finally a knock on the door. Juniper almost fell off of the couch, scrambling to her feet and running to like her life depended on it, as though whoever it was would leave if she wasn't there immediately. She grinned ear to ear, swinging the door open for Esme, only to be met with Lucius Malfoy's cold, disapproving gaze. Her smile instantly disappeared, suddenly angry, disappointed, embarrassed and insecure.

"Hello, Miss Jones." He said, a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." She whispered back, watching him step into the house uninvited. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to help you." He turned slowly, taking in the look of the house before finally looking at Juniper. "If you don't mind packing your things, you're going to be staying at the Manor until school goes back."

"Why?" Juniper asked bluntly, not moving.

"Direct request by Professor Dumbledore himself." Lucius said after glaring back at Juniper. "But I don't have all night, I'd like to be back at the manor before... 8pm."

"But it's 7 now, there's no way I can-."

"If you're standing here arguing then of course you can't finish before then. So I suggest you get started." He interrupted, shooing her off upstairs.

As soon as she closed her bedroom door, she was off in a panic, pacing around her room, wondering why Dumbledore would force her to stay with the Malfoy's, when Esme was meant to come home any moment.
She looked at the trunk that was in her bed, still packed from when she got home a month ago. There was no point trying to repack, so she left it closed, dragging it downstairs with her bag slung across her shoulder. When she made it to the bottom she looked across the kitchen and living room for something to bring with her. She spotted a frame with a picture of Juniper and Esme taken a few Christmases ago, before Juniper started at Hogwarts. She grabbed it and put it in her back pack, turning back to see Lucius standing at the front door again.

"We might have to leave early so that Narcissa can take care of... this." He said, his nose turning up in disgust, again.

"I'm ready." Juniper said uneasy, guessing rather than telling.

"Grab my arm." Lucius ordered, extending out his arm. Juniper hesitated before resting her hand on him gently, holding the handle of her trunk in the other hand. Within an instant, her feet had left the ground and she felt herself falling forwards and backwards at the same time, her brain bouncing around in her skull. Her feet touched back on the ground and she was at the Malfoy's Manor, following Lucius through the door.

"Narcissa, Draco." Lucius called, leading Juniper through the marble hallways that she only faintly remembered. It was freezing inside the Manor, despite it being one of the hottest Summers on record, Juniper felt like she was standing in the middle of a snowstorm with wet clothes on.