Post by octavian archimedes vector jr. on Nov 26, 2021 0:37:03 GMT -7
you left me here and I
i'm still wondering why
Summer 2021
Harmony Harwood had just left and taken the rest of his father’s items from an old office. The old house had belonged to his grandparents, and therefore, Octavian and Decima had inherited the lot. But, seeing what had just taken place—Archie wondered if that was what the reality of marriage was. Some contract and business agreement to who owns what things and who would own them when you weren’t alive. The few papers that were left scattered on the floor—notes in his father’s handwriting of just numbers. He didn’t know what they were referencing, but he crouched down and picked up one. The ink was faded and the year at the top 2001 when Archie was about five.
That year always struck a chord with him. It had been the last year he’d seen his mother alive. Twenty years later, he stood there staring at the faded numbers trying to pinpoint the last time he’d seen his father alive. The funeral had been grim and short, and Archie had actually fought with the idea of attending at all, but he wanted to support his Aunt Decima just as she had supported the boy who used to sit at home and stare at the door—hoping his father would walk through it. Plus, Nova wasn’t even out of school yet, and neither were the twins Ada and René.
Maybe it was meant to be. Octavian’s choices finally caught up to him. They told Archie it was an accident, but nothing about his stepmother’s behavior gave him any confidence, and in the way, it was just the end of a painful chapter of his life. But the longing feeling his chest never left. Archie placed the paper on the old desk, he’d clean all this up later, and for now, he walked out and back into the equally empty living room. Harmony gave him what Archie assumed was an encouraging grin, but all he saw was a pained expression. Probably facial muscles the woman had never used before. Then again, he’d always been told he did resemble his father quite a bit. It was fitting, considering he was his namesake.
Maybe that added to the pain in Harmony’s face. The Stepmother that was barely older than Archie, and he wondered what such a woman had ever seen in Octavian. Then again, he had pined after his father’s attention for so many years, and why? The woman approached him. She was obviously using much effort and energy in playing the role of grieving widow—rich widow now that she had her late husband’s gold he’d squandered from so many. ’Oct—Archie. If there is anything, I can ever do for you or Nova. Don’t hesitate to ask.’ Archie simply nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked around the room. It wasn’t even nostalgic. There were no memories attached here except for when he’d watched his father pick up his briefcase, put on his hat, and barely pause to look at him as Archie walked him walk out the door.
”We appreciate that.” His response felt forced, like he heard his voice but hadn’t remembered speaking. ’Oh—Decima mentioned you were going to be teaching at Hogwarts now! My sweet Isaac is good with numbers—like his father. You’ll keep an eye on them, won't you?’ Archie kept his eyes focused on the empty bookshelf on the far wall. He’d climbed it once as a boy and promptly fallen off the top, but he was interested in hand with the book. His mother, Sarah, had checked to make sure he was fine and then laughed at the incident. Was it worse to keep a memory that caused him pain in his mind to avoid hearing ’his father’ come out of Harmony’s mouth? Archie swallowed. The lump in his throat wasn’t exactly grief. But resentment sometimes resembled heartburn.
”Of course.” Archie gave a quick grin, but only for a moment. And he cleared his throat. ”Well, I’ll get out of your hair.” And he walked toward the front door, his footsteps echoing against the old wood. Archie only hoped Harmony wasn’t following behind him with a handful of empty promises and fake charity. It wasn’t like him to be so dark about things, but he blamed it on his father’s passing. Exiting, he felt the light breeze on his face, and he walked a bit more before stopping to turn and look at the house. The only emotional attachment he had was knowing that the house should have gone to his Aunt. The same Aunt and sister that was raising Octavian’s two eldest children. It angered Archie but also only made him that much more grateful for Decima. At least he wasn’t stuck with the conniving Harmony as his youngest twin sisters were, and his brothers had no idea about the reality of their family life.
But staring at the old brick, he found that he felt…well, he felt nothing. A numbness had consumed him since his Aunt Decima had told him his father was dead. It persisted even during the funeral as he stared at the expensive casket, the pile of flowers on top. It had persisted when they’d lowered the casket into the ground using a charm. But he thought about those few memories he had of his mother. The good ones where they laughed or the ones where he saw that sad look in her eye. The memories of summers in his Aunt’s shop as she calmed a crying Nova who persistently asked where their father was. There was a feeling in his chest, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
It wasn’t long after that he apparated back to Horizont Alley, and he walked to the back of the bakery where Nova was helping with some tasks. At least she was old enough to use magic outside of school, which sped things up. She stopped and looked at her brother. Archie leaned against the door frame and paused. Decima wasn’t in today, and he hadn’t expected her to be since she was mourning the loss of not just a brother but a twin. In a way, it was like the numbness was thawing a bit, and he crossed his arms. ”Dad is…gone. Forever.” The sadness felt like a smack to the side of the head but was followed by anger. Archie shook his head like he’d just heard that Octavian bailed on an appointment again. ”He’s dead.” He was speaking out loud to himself mostly. As if he was finally accepting that Octavian would never walk through that door again.
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