A Memory Of Shadows

5- The guilt we carry

The walls of the manor enveloped her like a blanket. Once again, the warmth of the large fire burning flushed her cheeks. Breath, Verin. Breathbreathbreath. Don't cry, don't crumble. You have to hold on. Hold on to what? There was so little left, so little left of her. The sob broke out of her so violently it shook her to the core.

"Miss!" Ebbie ran towards her, the tiny elf trying to support Verin as she sank onto the tiled floor of the foyer. "Miss, what happened? Are you hurt? Letty, quick, come and help Ebbie help Miss Verin!" The elf was almost more panicked than Verin was. Letty came running, closing the large wooden front door with a bang. Then Ebbie threw herself upon her, lifted her hands and arms, running around her mistress to check for blood or any obvious wounds. "Ooooh, Miss, Ebbie should have not let Miss go out on her own so soon. Ebbie is so sorry, Miss. Ebbie will punish herself later. Ooooh, poor Miss." When she carefully pulled Verin's cloak and hat off, chucking it into Letty's arms, and went to check her mistress' hair as if she were looking for lice, the witch pulled away. "Don't, Ebbie," she hushed between shallow breaths, swatting the elf's hands away. "There is no need for that. I am fine, I just need a minute." Fine. What did that even mean? When had been the last time she had been fine? It must have been before her mother had died. "Ooooh, of course, Miss, sorry, Miss, Ebbie and Letty will leave Miss and prepare dinner, Miss. A tea, Miss? Something stronger, Miss?" Verin just sat there, shaking her head. If only that wretched elf stopped talking. She needed her to stop and leave. On the other hand, Verin noticed how the fussing elf had drowned out her own voices. She remained kneeling, but managed to blink, ending her blank staring into an abyss only she could see. As she was about to say something, the sound of a bell roared through the foyer.

The gate bell. Oh no.

Why would he come? What did he want? Finish her up for good, or burn bridges that had not very outlasting to begin with? He might come to shout at her, to call her a traitor. A liar, a weakling, a disgrace. Verin had heard it all before. She would not even be surprised or particularly hurt. But it would eat at her. Eat at her soul more than the haunted walls of Azkaban ever could. They had been equals once. Equals in their tears and despair. Each a fighter in their own cause, so busy not drowning in a stormy sea of decisions others had made for them they could not help each other. "Oooh, Miss, do you want Ebbie to send the visitor away, Miss?" Letty had climbed onto the ledge of one of the stained-glass windows. "Did he follow you, Miss?" "It is Mr. Malfoy, Miss" "Did he hurt you, Miss? Ebbie will go bury him the garden, if Miss wants Ebbie to, Miss."

This was a madhouse. The elves looked like they would throw a fit. Of course, they had never behaved like this with her father around. They had not dared. But since Verin had returned and was the only one left, her elves had tried to fill an emptiness without a bottom. Like it was their duty to step in and clean her up, inside out. "Everyone calm down!", Verin blurted out, feeling a lot less calm than she needed them to be. Headless chicken did not help her right now. "We do not bury people in the Garden anymore, Ebbie. That is rude." And highly illegal, but what in this house had not been. "Leave, both of you. Prepare dinner- for two, just in case. Do not forget your positions, or mine. We still greet important guests as they deserve."

"What do we do now?" "What we always do. We function"

She could do that. Right?

Ten.

She took a deep, rattled breath and got off the floor.

Nine.

Her hands ran above her clothes, smoothing out any wrinkles her break down might have caused.

Eight.

She took another deep breath. Steady now.

Seven.