Chapter Text
By far, the worst wizarding mode of travel had to be the Floo. Zipping from one hearth to the next had turned many a wizard’s innards over the centuries, and a certain Muggleborn wizard was no exception.
He landed on his bum upon the hearth rug of his childhood home, coughing until the soot settled once more around him. With a deep, somewhat dramatic groan, he heaved himself up off the floor and waved his wand to magick the rest of the soot from his clothes.
Straightening his new hat, which he couldn’t wait to show his two favorite people, he glanced around the strangely dark sitting room. He frowned. Normally, the smells of coffee or tea or bacon would be wafting in from the kitchen, alongside soft humming or the scratchy sounds of the radio.
But today, a musty scent filled the silent, dark house. The blue flames of his Flooing in had given way to cold, unlit logs. The only thing that seemed usual was the level of tidiness throughout. Though the shelves were cluttered with books and knickknacks, not a speck of dust ever survived long on any surface. A large, handmade quilt lay over the old faded couch.
“Auntie?” the young wizard called. He raised his wand, lighting the tip as he made his way around the old couch to the entrance of the kitchen. He glanced around the corner, his wand at the ready.
But the kitchen, with the barest hint of light peeking through the closed curtains, was just as devoid of human life as the sitting room.
A dozen scenarios ran through his mind as he turned to the staircase that led upstairs. Up there were three small bedrooms and a bathroom. He was no stranger to the upper floor, having lived there for most of his life, but somehow the idea of walking up there now sent chills down his spine.
“Homenum Revelio,” he whispered, detecting a single human figure in his aunt’s room above him.
“Aunt Cherry!” he called from the bottom step, still reluctant to ascend. “Are you alright? I’m coming up.”
With a deep breath, he lifted one foot, then the other, slowly making his way up the aging, creaking staircase.
At the top he found himself facing four familiar doors, all closed. Upon three of them hung different names, lovingly embroidered alongside images of rabbits, hats, and flowers.
He stepped up to the closest one, and knocked gently. “Auntie? Are you in there?”
There was no response.
“It’s Sunday and you weren’t downstairs… Are you ill?”
Once again, he was met with silence.
“Aunt Charity?” his voice raised a bit with concern. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m coming in.”
Steeling himself, he turned the doorknob and stepped inside. A wave of trepidation filled him as he pushed the door open.
“Auntie?” he repeated, this time barely audible. A large bed took up most of the room, with a wooden wardrobe, bedside table, and cabinet of sewing supplies squeezed in wherever they could fit. On the bed, a pile of blankets large enough to be a person drew his attention.
He waved his wand once again, this time lighting a few candles in the room. It was enough to see by that he could put out his wand.
“Auntie, it’s time to get up…” he said, noting how strange the unmoving lump on the bed appeared, though he couldn’t quite place why. “Come on, I’ll make us both some coffee and breakfast.”
But still, the blankets didn’t move an inch. Not even a gentle rise and fall to signify breathing.
The young wizard stood rooted in the doorway, uncertain.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, feeling very much like a child, and quietly willed the blankets to move, even just a hair’s breadth.
But when he opened his eyes, the only movement in the room came from the flickering of the flames he’d lit himself.
“Auntie,” He said again, his voice cracking a little. “Please…”
He took a few slow steps forward. “Please…”
He was now close enough to reach the corner of the blankets, and he gently pulled them, just enough to see a face.
Two empty, unseeing blue eyes stared back at him.
He gasped, stepping back in disbelief.
No, no, no, no, no.
The single syllable echoed in his mind as he stumbled down the stairs, losing his hat in the process, and out the front door until he tumbled to the ground in his aunt’s front garden, barely catching himself on his hands.
Instead of catching his breath, he wretched, further emptying his already barren stomach. He gasped and sobbed, pulling himself away from the mess on the ground before turning back to look at his childhood home.
His eyes widened in shock and terror as his vision filled with the sight he’d hoped and prayed to never see again.
A blackened skull consuming a frightening snake loomed over the once-happy refuge.
“No,” he whispered hoarsely.
He held up his wand, desperate and knowing full well he couldn’t stay there forever. “Expecto Patronum.”
A single wisp slipped from the tip of his wand and fizzled out almost immediately.
Rather than make another attempt, the young wizard stood, closed his eyes, and spun on his heel.