River(Fred Weasley)

04: LINEAGE

Previously:

"It doesn't matter what it is now does it, really, all that matters is that we got aw..."

"Look what we have here. Students out of bed." A sly voice interrupted us and we turned around only to be faced with Snape, who was coldly looking down at us. In that moment he was absolutely scarier than You-know-who himself.

The run in with Snape was so mortifying that it kept me from wondering around at night for weeks. After he caught us he stared us down for minutes before dragging us to his cabinet where he yelled until I couldn't feel my eardrums anymore. He took 50 points of Gryffindor(none from Slytherin, as it seemed obvious to him that I was nothing more than an innocent victim) and sent us all to bed.

And of course, we got detention. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, but if you ask me, you take away the whole point of detention if you allow the "prisoners" to chat amongst themselves and that was exactly what we were going to do today. After I was finished with Quidditch practice I quickly changed into my robes and hurried to the main hall, where Filch and the Weasleys were already waiting for me. Filch was slyly grinning while he took us down to one of the trophy rooms.

"That's what you get for running around and making trouble. But still, too mild of a punishment. In my days..." He kept mumbling to himself as he opened the door to the musty room full of trophies, that probably haven't been cleaned in years. He pointed towards the cleaning supplies.

"No magic. You hear me, no magic. I will be checking up on you lot and I won't be happy until I can see my reflection in them." He left us be and for a couple of moments we just stared at all of the work in despair.

"This is going to take for ages" I whined and sat down on the floor. I was already tired from the practice and my legs could barely hold me. The twins didn't seem that excited either. 

"I don't think that we're going to be able to finish this today" said Fred and sighted. The universe probably hadn't seen a sadder lot than the three of us, sitting on the floor like wet mops. 

"Why don't we just use magic?"

"I think he'll know. Unless you can fabricate the smell of cleaning supplies." George frowned.

"No, that we cannot do." I stood up and took one of the mops.

"Well, then we better start. I want to get this over with as soon as possible." We wallowed in sadness for a bit but the twins quickly cheered up and started cracking jokes which were so funny, that I almost fell of the ladder from laughter. In return I swooped them with an extensive amount of riddles.

" Okay, what runs around and around, but never moves?" I said while rubbing a particularly dirty trophy for the 3rd time in a row. They weren't really good at guessing.

"Um.... time?" Tried George but Fred almost immediately hit him with his mop.

"Wanker, time flies."

"Well what then?" I chuckled.

"I'm not telling you, that's the point of riddles. You have to keep guessing." When I saw George's pleading face I smiled to myself.

"Hm. Well I'll make you deal yeah? I'll tell you the answer if you tell me what's the deal with the magic map." George snickered.

"Ha ha. I think I can handle staying in the dark." Fred wrapped one of the clean mops around his head, imitating our professor of defense against the dark arts from 1st year. You know, the one that had Voldemort's face stuck behind his huge turban. I admired that he could make light of such serious subject to the point, where it almost became offensive to some people.

"Watch out Fred, You-know-who might hear you." I jokingly warned him. I was rubbing a nasty trophy which looked like a very old quidditch trophy. When I wiped of enough dust my mouth flew open at the sight. With small but delicate letters there was a clear writing that said "Charles Graham, 1976."

"What is it?" Asked George curiously and moved closer.

"That is my surname, Graham. And it's not such a popular surname." We all crowded in front of the trophy.

"Didn't you say you were a muggle born?" Asked Fred.

"I think so yes." 

"You think this is you're dads?" I blinked a couple of times, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"No, my dad's name is not Charles." I did the math in my head and well if my dad would have gone to Hogwards he would have been in his seventh year in 76. But that made no sense, his name most definitely wasn't Charles, it was Jacob. But what if his middle name was Charles and he changed it later to Jacob for some reason? But for what reason? He was so terribly afraid of magic that it was hard to imagine him going to Hogwards in his teen years. It seemed more believable that this would be someone from my extended family, like my uncle or something but I knew no one by the name of Charles, except my former english teacher. Maybe it was just a coincidence. The twins both frowned.

"I don't want to get you down Marty" started George "but it might just be someone else with the same surname."

"You're probably right. But still, I could swear I've heard of a Charles Graham somewhere, sometime long ago. I don't know." I put the trophy down and abandoned the thought of my dad being a wizard. That was just bizzare, it would mean that he lied to me my entire life. And my dad was a very honest person. He loved the mountains, he loved the outdoors and he was afraid of magic and that was all I knew.

But still, Charles Graham sounded awfully familiar, whoever he was. Maybe a very distant family member from whom I'd gotten a birthday card when I was a toddler or something. Anyhow, I didn't feel sure enough about any of this to share it with the twins so we got back to scrubbing trophies.

It wasn't until a week later when I lied in my bed after another long day of practice that I remembered a very distant memory, something I have buried deep down together with all the other memories of her(and there weren't many). I have only known her for a year or so plus the 9 months she carried me in her womb. She disappeared after that and I have never seen her again. 

My mom called him Charles.