𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | f. w

10

The emptiness of Grimmauld Place was oppressive. Every creak, every whisper of wind against the windows felt amplified, filling the house with an unnerving stillness. It had been weeks since the disaster at the Ministry, since the night they'd lost Sirius and nearly lost themselves. Grimmauld Place had always been a house heavy with secrets, but now it felt haunted, as though the loss of Sirius had left a ghostly presence that lingered in every dark corner and shadowed room.

Mattie hadn't adjusted to this new quiet. The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione—all of them were back at Hogwarts, filling their days with schoolwork and whatever normalcy they could grasp at. That left Grimmauld Place feeling lonelier than ever, and she found herself retreating into herself, much like she had when she'd first arrived here. Her days were spent in the quiet company of Quinn and Tonks, with the three of them moving through the house like phantoms, each lost in their own thoughts.

This morning, Mattie was alone in the drawing room, an old book on magical theory open in her lap. She'd been staring at the same page for almost half an hour, the words blurring together as her mind drifted back to that night in the Ministry. She could still see the shadowy figures of Death Eaters, hear the distant clash of spells, and see the veil that had claimed Sirius. The memory was as vivid as a fresh wound, and it ached in a way that never seemed to fade.

Her thoughts drifted from the Ministry to Fred, to the kiss they'd shared in the aftermath of it all. She hadn't meant to kiss him; it had been a moment of raw vulnerability, a desperate need for connection amid the chaos and grief. But he'd pulled away, and the memory of it still stung. She felt embarrassed, even now, that she'd let her emotions spill over like that, let him see her at her most broken. And yet, she couldn't help but wonder if things could have been different if she hadn't rushed it, hadn't let her emotions control her.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, fingers still curled tightly around the edges of the book. She knew it was foolish to dwell on what-ifs, but the questions nagged at her, filling her with an unsettled restlessness that was hard to shake.

"Lost in thought again?"

Mattie looked up, startled out of her reverie. Quinn had entered the room, her footsteps nearly silent as she moved across the floor. She settled onto the couch opposite Mattie, her sharp eyes scanning her friend with a mixture of concern and understanding.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in," Mattie said, closing the book and setting it aside. "I was just... thinking."

"About Fred?" Quinn asked, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Mattie rolled her eyes, though she felt her cheeks warm at the question. "Not just him," she murmured, unable to meet Quinn's gaze. "I was thinking about... everything, really. Sirius, the Ministry, how different everything feels now."

Quinn nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, it's been a lot. This house feels... empty without everyone here. And with Sirius gone, it's like the soul of this place is missing."

Mattie nodded, the weight of Quinn's words settling heavily over her. "I miss him," she admitted quietly. "I didn't think I would feel his absence this much, but... he understood me, you know? In ways I don't think anyone else really does."

Quinn gave her a sympathetic look. "Sirius was one of a kind," she said softly. "He had this way of seeing people, seeing who they really were. I think that's why he connected with you so easily."

Mattie felt her throat tighten at the thought, and she forced herself to take a steadying breath. "It just... it doesn't feel real," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I keep expecting him to walk into the room, to crack some joke or tell some story about his days at Hogwarts. But he's gone, and I don't know how to move on from that."