Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

*Fourteen years ago*

“Anne!” The tall man’s voice boomed through the house as he walked in the door. He was wearing almost all black, a duffle bag slung around his shoulder. “Anne! Answer me!” He snapped when he didn’t hear a word from his wife of nearly ten years.

“I'm in here, Ron.” She called back, a thick coat of fear lacing her voice.

The man- Ron, walked through the small house to the kitchen where his battered, and bruised wife stood in front of him. He knew he left those marks on her, but she had to listen to him. Everyone listened to him. He was quite powerful.

“We need to go.” He snarled, grabbing her small wrist in his large hands painfully tight.

She whimpered slightly, trying to pull away but she knew far too well what happened when she refused her husband. There are marks to prove what happens. “You’re hurting me.” She said quietly, rubbing at her wrist.

His green eyes were a shade she’d never seen before. They were so dark they were almost black. He looked scary, almost as if he’d already been drinking that night. Although that could be very possible, being already 2 in the morning. Anne always waited up for him, sometimes that turned out to be a mistake, but she didn’t care. The man he turned into was not the lovely, gentle man that she married ten years ago. No, he was much darker now.

“Look, Anne, baby we have to leave.” He said more gentle than before. He looked sympathetically at his wife, begging her to understand as Anne looked back with complete confusion. She never understood Ron’s mood swings. It was a rollercoaster with him.

“Why? What’s going on, Ron?” She asked frantically, looking back at the shut door that separated her from her little boy.

“They’re coming after me, us, Anne.” He said sternly, searching his wife’s eyes. They were already deep with fear and brimming with tears. She looked so scared, and he was sorry for making her feel like that. He was sorry they were in the situation to begin with.

“But-“ She started, struggling to get any words out. “But- how much time do we have, Ron?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Anne, we need to leave now.” He said and tugged her along, trying to take her into the kitchen.

“No, Ron. Harry’s still here.” She objected loudly, knowing that she was finally speaking up against him, and that scared her.

“The boy is strong, he’ll handle himself.” He stated, not looking back which astonished Anne. Nothing was larger than the love she had for her son. She shook her head and looked at Ron strongly.

If anything, Anne would die for her son. She needed to protect him, and he’s the only thing that was ever sane in her sad and scary life.

“He’s going with us.” She stated sternly, her voice booming. She was never so sure about anything in her life. Her small, eight-year-old was going with her, and that was a fact. Nothing could happen to her baby.

“He’ll slow us down, Anne.” Ron said, his eyes getting dark with anger once again. She glared at him and huffed, walking towards Harry’s door. Once she got there, Ron was in front of her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder and walking away with her screaming.

“Ron! Let me down right this second. Our little boy is in there! Does that not matter?” She yelped at him, tears finally breaking way.