Chloe Wilkes has crossed the Rubicon. (nopanacea) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-12-31 20:45:00 |
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Orion Black was dead. And it was less than a week before Christmas. Chloe Wilkes, sitting on the stone cold curb, wrapped in her warmest cloak and a disillusionment charm, had a ridiculous flashback to Dickens and felt a lump choking her throat that might have been tears or laughter or both. It was not that the death of her friend's father or the attack on her workplace amused her, but the mind took what it could to keep from running quite mad in a world that had long since gone round the bend itself. Nor could she say with entire honesty that she was mourning Mr Black in particular. She'd been acquainted with him and regarded him as one regarded a dragon roosting nearby--to be treated with deep respect and from some distance. But she had known him, nevertheless, had spoken with him, dined with him, had seen the similarities and the differences between him and her own father. Chloe had been quite literal in her message to Regulus. She'd spent most of the day down the street from number 12 Grimmauld Place with her journal in her lap and a jar of bluebell flames beside her. In hindsight, she felt a bit guilty about abandoning the conversation with Addie, but her friend would understand. She had to be here now, even if Regulus didn't reply, even if he never came out. Her heart ached at the thought of him alone--not alone perhaps, but Mrs. Black was, well, Mrs. Black--and herself unable to do a thing. She'd debated the idea of approaching the house, but extended family would be in and out, and she didn't wish to intrude, and she had no real right to be there aside from the fact that she cared more for the new Master of the House of Black than was at all proper. The sun was setting, giving way to the longest night of the year, and Regulus had not replied to her journal entry. Chloe apparated back to the townhouse in Kensington. The warmth of the entrance hall hit her like a wall, and she gasped aloud after the day in the cold. In that mysterious way that house elves had, Wamba was beside her almost instantly to take her cloak, and Chloe let it fall. For a day spent doing next to nothing, it had left her more drained than most. Olivia wasn't home when Chloe arrived. She'd been restless all day, since she'd read the horrible news in the paper. (And what a distasteful way to present it, as well! This journalist ought to be dealt with.) There was nothing she could do to help, even though she wanted to. She remembered. She remembered only too well. Regulus would be overwhelmed with funeral arrangements and dealings with the DMLE regarding recovering the body. She'd busied herself back then, never resting so that she couldn't think about it all. About what had happened. About what was going to happen. She'd had to fetch Chloe at Hogwarts and protect her as best she could. She'd had to move to the townhouse (there was no way she could have stayed in St. Ives, not after that, not with those memories clouding the place in a funeral shroud of its own). She'd had to arrange the funerals. She'd had to deal with the DMLE, with the press, with the hate letters. And she'd had to do it alone. She wished that Regulus' family would be there for him. His mother scared her and she didn't want to imagine how she would be reacting to this new disaster. Regulus was the new head of the Black family, at only 18, the same age Olivia was when she'd become head of what was left of the Wilkes family. Three years had passed but she remembered, she remembered too well the burden that was befalling him. She remembered too well and she couldn't stay home alone doing nothing. Regulus' life had turned into a nightmare and she might not be able to help him, not yet at least, but she could not remain idle. Chloe had disappeared once more, and that gave Olivia something to focus on, something that she could act on. Since breakfast, since she'd found that her sister had already fled their home, she'd been looking for her. She'd wrote to her in her journal; she'd ask the house elves to check St. Ives; she'd talked to the portraits hoping they might have seen her elsewhere. She certainly couldn't ask Regulus, who she usually turned to when Chloe went missing. She hadn't asked her other friends either, not wanting to worry them when they already had enough on their plates with the current events. She kept it as last resort, once she would have gone through every other scenarios. By mid-afternoon, unable to stay home and wait any longer, she had finally Apparated to St. Ives to see for herself that Chloe was neither at the manor nor elsewhere in town. She searched every room of the damned house that she despised so thoroughly, in vain, before heading out to do the same through the street of St. Ives. The cold mist pierced through her cloak as she walked down the beach searching for her wayward sister, and she was frozen to the bones and all the more upset by the time she returned to the London's townhouse. Chloe was heartbroken and distressed, she could understand, but couldn't she at least leave a word to her sister? Olivia had enough of this running-away nonsense. A rational mind would have seen that she was focusing onto her sister the whole turmoil of conflicted emotions raised by the morning's news, and that she was overreacting. But Olivia was hardly rational at the moment, and so when she Apparated home only to find Chloe shivering in the entrance hall, she was fuming. "It's good to see that you made your way home," she said icily as she took off her gloves. It had occurred to Chloe more than once over the course of the day that Olivia might be wondering where she was. There had been that note in her sister's journal, but Chloe hadn't known how to explain exactly what she was doing nor did she have the energy to do so now. "I am here." She hadn't thought she had energy for anything, but her emotions were as raw as Olivia's, and anger sparked anger in return. This was (could have been) their father, three years ago. Any day now it could be Olivia herself, and her sister had the gall to worry about Chloe? "I assume you've heard," Chloe said with equal chill. "I did," Olivia confirmed, taking off her damp frozen cloak and handing it to Wamba. "As soon as I read it, I went looking for you, but you had disappeared." She summoned her shoes with a flick of her wand as she slid out of her boots. The ballerinas flew to her from the cloakroom as she tried to calm herself down. Emotions were running high. It was no time to have a row. Chloe watched Olivia summon her shoes. "I-" 'I have a friend at the Daily Prophet,' might not be the best thing to say. Addie could not be held responsible for her colleague's reporting. She'd made her feelings about Guy Dobbs clear. Still, it seemed anyone was a target these days. Could she really be thinking such things? "I learned last night," Chloe finally said. "Where did you go?" Olivia asked, crossing into the sitting room where a fire was roaring, expecting Chloe to follow her. She was cold and she needed to warm herself up, and she could tell that so did her sister. "Did you eat anything today?" Somehow she doubted it. Chloe remained behind for a moment. She pursed her lips, watching Olivia's always assured figure advance on the sitting room. "I have not required anything." She was cold, and she was hungry, for that matter, although the very thought of attempting to fill the hollowness in her stomach with food made it rebel. She was equally reluctant to accede to the normalcy of an evening by the fire. After a moment, however, practicality won out, and Chloe followed. She sat down in a chair by the fire and finally acknowledged the first question. "I was at Grimmauld Place." Olivia was poking the fire when Chloe finally followed in, to her relief. It always seemed as though everything was a tug of war with her sister, every word she drew from her a victory, every movement a struggle. Now satisfied with the fire's intensity, Olivia took a step back from the fireplace, but she froze at Chloe's last words. Slowly turning towards her sister, her silhouette shading the fire behind her, she processed the information. "I had been looking for you at St. Ives," she said, the underlying but I didn't think that you'd go to his house clear between them. "How was Regulus holding up?" Chloe had expected the surprise, as well as the unspoken censure. She was well aware how improper it was under the circumstances, but it angered her that that was the case. It was not right, could not be right, that she should be barred from the simple actions of an ordinary friend in a terrible time when she knew better than nearly anyone else what Regulus must be feeling. Olivia ought to be able to understand that. It did not seem so long ago since this tragedy had been theirs. On nights like tonight it felt far nearer than the approaching Christmas or Dulcinea's ball just two days before. It made no difference in any case. "I did not see him," Chloe said, gazing at the fire behind Olivia. "I did not go up to the house. I merely wished to be nearby in case..." She trailed off, then added, less calmly, "He should not be alone." Of course Olivia understood. She, too, wanted to help Regulus more than anything. But there were ways to do it. Barging in uninvited wasn't one. It was a relief that Chloe had had enough common sense to stay out, at least. "He should not be, no," Olivia agreed, "but I don't think that he is." His family would be there for him. That was what family was for. And friends had offered their support, like Olivia had; if Regulus wanted it he'd had but to say the word. "Don't think you're the only one worried about him." On this, she sat in the armchair next to Chloe's and called the house-elf. "Wamba, get dinner ready. And bring us tea in the mean time." They were both cold and tired and stressed out; tea by the fire would do them good. Wanting, needing and asking were very different things in Chloe's mind. She had gone because he wouldn't ask, or even accept an offer, because that was the way they had always done things. Even if 'always' had come to an end on the first of the month, she could not have done anything else. "He is always alone," she whispered. There had been nothing to do except leave, but Chloe still ached at the idea of him shut up in that house where even at the most extravagant of balls, there never seemed to be enough light to reach the shadows lurking in the corners. Aloud, she said, "I am not so self-absorbed as to believe I am the only one who cares for him." But sometimes I think I am the only one who knows him. Perhaps it was an exaggeration; perhaps it was vanity. Perhaps she was merely attributing her own feelings to Regulus, but she had wanted to offer him a bit of that stillness with which he'd once credited her, to return the gift he'd given her so many times over the past three years. Olivia could tell that more went unsaid after that last sentence, and it was probably better that she was not a Legilimens as she didn't think she'd like to find out whatever it was. "I'm glad that you acknowledge that, Chloe, but you must realise that you cannot go meet Regulus like this anymore. I'm sorry, but it will only make things worse later if you still hold onto each other like this." She paused, looking at her sister as she spoke. "I know that circumstances were extraordinary and it is what I will blame it on for today, but please promise me that you will not seek him out like this again." It was a hard lesson to learn, and she knew that it was a delicate topic that she was most likely mucking up once again, but it hurt her - and angered her, her patience already short after the worried hours spent looking for her - to see Chloe like this. "Circumstances were extraordinary," repeated Chloe flatly. "I have no intention of doing such a thing again." Which was not to say that she wouldn't, but she truly did not want to make a painful situation worse. Olivia ought to give her that much credit, at least. "I did not go merely to gratify myself." "I am relieved to hear it," Olivia said, stopping there for the house-elf was back with a tea tray. "I will take care of it, Wamba," she dismissed him before he could start on serving it. "Go back to see to dinner." She picked up the tea pot herself and pour two cups. "I certainly hope that you did not," she told her sister as she handed her her cup of tea, acknowledging only now Chloe's last sentence. "I know this is a difficult situation, but I worry for you, and I must protect you. Even from yourself, if needed." She added cream to her own cup as she spoke, then picked it up and brought it to her lips, returning her gaze onto her sister, wary of the reaction her statement would get. Chloe received the cup stiffly, still looking at the fire. Then, with Olivia's words, she turned full on her sister, incredulously, her cheeks red. "You will protect me?" she said. It had been lurking below the surface for the past month and a half, buried at varying depths. Worry for Regulus - though exacerbated at this time by first his uncle's and now his father's deaths - was not that far removed from worry for Olivia, and these days worry of any kind consisted of sympathy, fear and anger in degrees that varied by the hour. "From myself?" Sipping her tea, Olivia tried to keep a calm appearance as she watched her sister's reaction. She had not really expected it would be well received, but she still wondered if it was wise to talk to Chloe now. Probably not, no. Fatigue and stress had worn Olivia down, taking away what little patience she had for her sister's antics. Chloe had to stop running away. Not that Olivia ever had much success with Chloe. She'd been unable to stop her from working, after all, and that was but one example of how spectacularly she was failing with her sister. Resting her cup in the saucer, she turned her gaze to the fireplace as she spoke. "It is what big sisters are wont to do, isn't it? It is what head of families are wont to do as well. It happens that I am both those things." And I worry for you went unsaid, for she had already said it before and it didn't seem to get through Chloe's thick skull. How could it be so foreign a concept to her that Olivia cared for her and worried about her? She'd gone to St. Ives looking for her, didn't it mean something to her anymore? She was always afraid for Chloe at some level or another, and it had been felt all the more keenly ever since she had learned of Regulus and Celeste's engagement. She was not blind and she had seen what the young Black and her sister meant to each other. How could she be anything but worried for Chloe's well-being? Chloe's hands tightened on her cup and saucer. They should not have this conversation now, she knew that. She should not bring up the reason Olivia was the head of the family. It could only lead to places Chloe would rather never visit, but she had been overwhelmed by sympathy and fear for most of the day, and anger would have its moment. "Will you protect me from yourself?" she asked quietly. "Can anyone protect you from yourself?" I won't hear that news again. Olivia rolled her eyes. They were, quite obviously, not talking about the same topic. "This is not about me, Chloe. You are the one who keeps running away as if it will solve anything. I am doing everything in my power to restore our name and reputation, to continue our parents' work, and I do this for you as much as for me and for them." I never asked for this, she left out, for what good would it bring? She had made her choices and she did not regret them. On the contrary, she was proud of them, proud of what she had done for the Cause and for her family. Mr Mulciber's encouragement, after the outrageous article in the Prophet, came back to her mind, comforting her that she was doing the right thing. The only right thing in the circumstances. Why couldn't Chloe understand it? "Perhaps some time to think would benefit us both," Chloe said quietly. She had never reacted well to Olivia treating her as a child, and while the accusation of running away might be accurate in certain ways, it was not Chloe who refused to face the reality of what their parents had been, and the man they had served. Olivia didn't reply, merely nodding before she continued to sip her tea silently. She was at a loss how to reach out to her sister. She knew that today was not like any other day, awful news ripping it apart before it even began. Regulus' father had been incredibly stupid, she could hardly believe it, hardly believe that a man of his stature might be so blinded by pain that he would do something so foolish and suicidal. Was it really surprising, in the circumstances, that she worried what her eighteen years old broken-hearted sister might do? "Just promise me that you will not seek him out again," she finally said, putting down her cup in its saucer. Chloe had hoped that demand would not be repeated. It should not make a difference. Three weeks ago she had all but said good-bye to Regulus for good. But so much had happened since then: his uncle's death, his father's, the authorization for the Unforgivable Curses to be used (which still made her sick with fear and fury). Besides, a promise to Olivia held greater force than an unspoken contract to which neither had wished to agree in the first place. She had refrained from going up to Number 12, partly to avoid upsetting Regulus' mother, but partly to avoid the eyes that she had known would be on the house. Whether from the DMLE or the Daily Prophet, someone would almost certainly be watching, and Chloe had not wanted to create fodder for whispers. Not for his reputation's sake, nor for either of their family's. "I would not wish to harm him or you," she said stiffly, feeling nearly as cold as the tea in her cup. "I promise." Olivia breathed more easily. She knew this was the most she would get from her sister. "Thank you," she said, returning her gaze on the roaring fire and finishing her cup of cooling tea. Chloe's stiff tone had not escaped her, but bringing it up would do no good. She had promised, that was all that mattered now. Olivia was so tired of worrying for her. In the ensuing silence, Wamba popped by their side with a loud 'crack.' "Dinner is served, Miss Wilkes, Miss Chloe," the house-elf said before disappearing immediately. Olivia put her now empty cup aside and got to her feet. "A hearty meal will do us good," she said as she gestured for her sister to lead the way. Chloe rose without acknowledging the thanks and started for the dining room. It might have been Olivia's concession to the stress of the day, to allow her younger sister to go up first, but to Chloe it merely felt like more eyes on her. |