DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ31: WITH THE POTTERS (PART I)ϟ

"Tell you what," Audric said suddenly. "Once you and Harry get your O.W.L results, the three of us shall drink firewhiskey."

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Rhea Abrielle Arquette has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

Arithmancy: A

Herbology: A

History of Magic: P

Potions: D

Transfiguration: E

Her parents would have been so proud. So, so proud. It wasn't the best grades, but honestly, Rhea had expected worse.

But her parents weren't here to tell her they were proud.

The Death Eaters had gotten them first.

Rhea stumbled out of her bed, careful not to wake Ginny and Hermione. It had been a week and a half since her parents had died, and two days since Harry had arrived in the Weasley Household. But for the first time, she couldn't bring herself to talk to him. She couldn't talk to anyone, for that matter.

She climbed down the stairs stealthily, and tip toed to the kitchen. For a while she stood still, so that her eyes would adjust to the dark. Then with her arms stretched out, she crouched on the ground and began searching for the place Mrs Weasley would usually keep the Firewhiskeys.

Her hands found a cool surfaced bottle, and she immediately snatched it, looking at its silhouette with tears streaming down her face. Her fumbling hands tried to open the tight cap of the bottle.

"Rhea? What are you doing here?"

"I want it," Rhea whispered, desperately trying to pry the cap off. "He promised me—he promised us he would let us drink—"

"Rhea, stop." Harry said, worried, and grabbed the bottle from her before placing it on the kitchen counter.

"No!" Rhea pleaded, tears clouding her eyes. "Harry, please, let me—"

"Uncle Rick said we should never drink Firewhiskey for the first time when we're sad," Harry whispered, holding a slightly trashing Rhea by her arms in an attempt to soothe her. "Uncle Audric—"

"Is dead," Rhea sobbed, collapsing in his arms and shaking uncontrollably.

"What's going on?"

Hermione and Ginny stood in the doorway, looking bewildered at the sight of a depressed Rhea.

"He—he said we could drink after our results would come. He promised he would celebrate it with us—"

"More the reason you shouldn't drink now." Harry said in a strained voice, rubbing her back soothingly. "Aunty Elle would never have allowed us." His voice broke a little.

"Come on Rhea, let's go to bed." Hermione said softly, placing a warm arm around her. "Let's go, Re."

Not having the energy to protest, Rhea went with Hermione as she led her upstairs, leaving Harry worried, and leaving Ginny to stand with an odd expression on her face.