Tales of a Hufflepuff: Prank McKite and the Song of Meridian

Chapter 2: Puffy McKite

'Dah?' Prank called, worry in his voice. There was another crackle, and an explosion. Just like that night when Prank and Lyon had first run away from his mother. Wizards and witches were in the street, watching the two combatants. Prank pushed his way in, not wanting to see what had happened, but needing to, nonetheless. He hadn't seen his mother in so long. Perhaps she was over this depression...perhaps she...perhaps she still loved him.

A wicked cackle sounded in the streets, rain now falling on everyone who was gathered. Prank continued to push, wanting so much to see for himself. He stuck his head out from between two wizards as another lightening strike sounded overhead. Hyena and Lyon were trapped in a duelling bond. Their non-wand hands were tied together with a bright glowing rope. It shone a sick red-purple, dusky but alive. It was designed to keep charms and curses aimed only at the duellist, so no one else would be in danger. Only the submission of one of the two tied would break the bond, unless a wizard or witch here knew something of it. The rope was his mother's, offered to his father on occasions before. There seemed to be no reason why Lyon had taken it up this time. Lyon, it seemed, had already been struck by a curse of some sort. He was staggering, but his bottle-blue eyes were full of life and a clear rage. Hyena raised her wand once more, calling out some dark curse. Light flowed from her wand in a thunderbolt. It struck Lyon and Prank howled in horror. The wizards he was near caught him under the arms. There was another flash of lightening in the sky and Prank saw the horrible look on his mother's bony face, eyes wild and full of poison. Those horrible eyes suddenly flashed over to Prank's face. Her mouth was curved into a hideous smile, her body thin as a rake, skeletal, clawed fingers opening. Her hand lifted from the duelling bond, towards him, the hideous smile on her face biting at him.

'Stupefy!' Prank heard his father's voice howl.

Hyena was struck by the spell, and collapsed, face down on the road. Prank was dropped by the men who were holding him and he fell beside his mother. He scrambled to get away, and hit his shins on the curb. He stopped there, terrified, watching as those who had been forced to watch, rather than help, were now picking up the pieces. Prank began to cry once more, covering his face shamefully. He had no idea how to deal with this. How had she known they were here? And why...why...why was she still trying to kill his dad?

But really, it was the cold look in her eyes that had hurt the worst. Even if she hated Lyon, certainly, he'd always hoped she did love him, but just wasn't as fit as his father was to raise him. Prank had never considered that she didn't care about him. But now he was sure. And he hated knowing it. He hated it with his whole body. He pounded his fists against his head, and he wailed. The rain poured on, soaking him to the bone.

A witch covered him in a thick cloak, and tutted softly at him. Prank didn't hear her words, but knew she didn't understand how close he was to this, especially when she asked him if he knew where his parents were. A soft voice interrupted her, much closer than Prank had expected.

'Excuse me, ma'am...I know where we're supposed to be.'

Prank looked up, a tiny shrouded figure that seemed to have been sitting with him, pushed back her hood. He blinked and wiped his face again. The fussy-looking woman considered. 'Are you his sister?'

The little girl glanced over at Prank, then nodded slowly. 'Yes, ma'am. I am.'

There was a moment of horror and silence. Prank's eyes widened as the little girl smiled at him in a warm manner. Her hair, which seemed to be pink on one side of her head and baby blue on the other, was divided into two little furry pigtails, not much bigger than her pudgy little fists that were clenched before her in a hopeful manner. Prank's lips parted, and almost of their own accord, his hand reached out to touch hers.

Her eyes closed as he did so, her smile was so huge. 'Hi Prank!' She bounced into his arms and gave him a hug.

'Puffy?' he gasped. She grinned and nodded against his shoulder. He couldn't believe it. He had never thought he'd ever...he hugged her back, stunned.

The older woman glanced from one of them to the other in a suspicious manner. 'Well, then, how about my boys and I take you there?' She indicated a sour looking teen beside her. 'Now, you two can call me Mrs. Weasley.' Then in the same manner, she turned and called, 'Fred, dear...' Her lips curled suddenly and she roared, 'FRED, GEORGE AND CHARLES WEASLEY, YOU GET AWAY FROM THAT STORE WINDOW RIGHT THIS INSTANT!'

'Yes, mum!' came a chorus of male voices. Puffy drew away from Prank, tilting her head as she looked at the approaching hoard.

'Honestly, can't stop thinking about Quidditch even for a moment,' she scorned them, taking Puffy's hand in hers. 'When an idiot duel has left two children without anyone to care for them!'

'Sorry mum...but they had a Nimbus 500 in the window!' the eldest and thicker of the three explained. He then looked down at Prank. 'I'm sorry.' his eyes flicked back up to his mother, and he whispered, 'Wait a moment...their parents were...?' Prank flushed and looked at the ground.

'Oi! Shut up, you great git,' one of the other brothers called, his voice breaking over the sentence. He was only a little taller than Prank, and probably only year or so older. The boy grinned encouragingly at him.

'You shut up, or I'll tell Mac that you're not fit for beaters this year!'

'Hey, it's not my fault!' an identical boy called out from Prank's other side. 'It was George.'

'I'm Fred!'

'You're George!'

'I'm George? *You're* George!'

'Let's not start this up again,' the woman growled, in a serious enough manner for everyone to know she meant business. She looked down at Puffy who had remained very silent and very still for the entire proceedings. 'Now, where was it that you said you were supposed to be, my dear?'

'They took their parents to St. Mungo's,' the sour-looking boy muttered.

'Well, then, shall we?'

'No!' the little girl cried. Prank looked down at her, as she began to pull away from the kindly woman.

'Puffy,' he called. 'That's where dad is...and mum...don't you...'

Puffy shook her head, her voice raising in tone and pitch. 'NO! I don't wanna go!' Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked at him.

Prank took her hand from the witch. 'Why not?' he asked with concern. Perhaps she had been told something about St. Mungo's being a bad place. He knew it was a hospital of sorts, and they did have a lot of chronic patients...but that was no reason to fear it.

'Because she's supposed to be staying with me tonight,' a strange, throaty voice called in a thick Scottish accent.

'And who are you?' Mrs. Weasley drew her wand and lit it, revealing a tall figure wearing a wine-red cloak standing in the shadows near Ollivander's. The person's face was in a shroud and only the mouth could be seen.

The figure smiled, speaking again, 'I'm a friend of the family's.' Puffy pulled her hands away from Prank and darted over to the wraith. The figure's lips curved into a smile and a long-fingered hand came down over Puffy's small shoulder. 'Sorry to disturb you, madam.'

The hood then tilted to Prank. 'Your father has been treated now...he'll be by shortly.' The figure glanced up again. 'Have a good night, folks.'

'Puffy...' Prank whispered as the cloaked person drew his little sister away.

The little girl reached out a hand to wave. 'Bye, Prank! Bye!'

Prank swallowed as the shadows enveloped them both. He allowed himself to be carted back under an awning with the woman and her brood. The woman leaned closer. 'Your father and mother are separated?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'How old are you...and your little sister? How long have you been apart?'

'I...she...' Prank swallowed, forced himself to smile, and looked up. 'I'm eleven, s-she's five. I haven't seen her since she was a baby.' His chin trembled, and he looked away.

'Oh, my poor dear...' Mrs. Weasley gave him a hug, while (Prank felt) her boys looked on uncomfortably.

'It's alright,' Prank told her, swallowing, trying to convince himself of the same. He'd always figured he'd see his sister again. And he doubted that this HAD to be the last time. He was surprised to see her, so old. She still had the baby-fat to her, and the oddly striped hair that his mother had in blue and red. He pulled away. 'Just a little shaken up, is all.'

The woman smiled, then looked up at her boys. The eldest had his eyes on the street, the sour-faced one had his nose in a book. The twins, however, were watching the interaction with a detached interest. Mrs. Weasley patted Prank on the back, and cleared her throat. 'So, if you're eleven...are you going to Hogwarts this September?'

'Yes, I am.' Prank was glad of the change of subject. He should have to think on it later, when his shock could be more privately expressed. And it was good to have someone to talk to that knew about the wizarding world. He often spoke with Muggle children (and adults) that he met, but he disliked having to 'lie' to have a conversation.

'You are?' the twins eyed each other up. 'Really?' added one of them.

'Yes, he is,' a familiar voice called. Prank looked up to see his father walking up, hands in his pockets, looking not much the worse for wear.

'Dah!' Prank left the company of the kindly woman's side and ran to his father. He'd never experienced a day like this before. It was getting to the point where he felt he was dreaming the whole thing, and he should soon wake up, in his sleeping bag, still on the road.

Lyon wrapped an arm around his son, and nodded to the woman who stood now, a stern look in her eye, though she smiled sweetly. 'I'm so sorry for this. Thank you so much for taking care of him. I don't believe we've met before.' He offered his hand. 'Lyon Walker.'

'Molly Weasley.' She took it, and Prank watched the expression on her face struggle to remain civil. Her chin tightened. 'You're a very lucky man.'

'That was some fine blocking!' one of the twins piped up. 'Why didn't you just curse her straight away?'

Lyon's eyes didn't leave the woman's for an instant. 'She's my wife. And she's very sick. I did say 'in sickness and in health'...and I meant it.'

'You mean that...you didn't...' Mrs. Weasley seemed to be taken aback by Lyon's words.

'No, mum.' Charlie shook his head. 'That witch walked right up to him, threw a duelling rope in his lap and cursed him right as he sat there.' He jerked his chin to the side to indicate a bench that was in front of the wand shop.

Lyon remained silent, then softly he added, 'Thank you again.' He gave a soft tug on Prank's arm. 'It's about time we got where we're going.'

'Yes, dah.' Prank smiled at the family as they headed off, and waved. The mother and the twins returned the wave. Charlie nodded and Percy actually afforded him a smile.

As they turned the corner back to the portkey station, Prank was sure he heard one of the twins call, 'This has been the best spring break ever, mum!'

And the reply of his sour-faced brother. 'You only say that because you've never seen a duel before...'

* * *

Back in the English countryside, Lyon lit them a fire and Prank saw in the stiff movement that his mother's curses had done a bit more than his father had let on. He got closer and lay his head against his father's shoulder. Lyon seemed a little surprised. He swung his arm about Prank's back, and looked down at him. 'Something on yer mind, son?' Prank had to overcome a sudden fear in his heart. It felt as though it should be easy to tell his father about the chance meeting he'd had, but his throat closed.

Lyon rubbed Prank's shoulder. 'I know, yer mother and I...I hate fighting with her, but I couldn't...' He sighed heavily. 'I'm sorry you had to see her like that. I don't want you to have the wrong opinion of either of us...but I guess that can't be helped, can it? We can't resolve our differences, and we fight.'

'No,' Prank muttered. 'No. You don't fight. She's trying to hurt you.' His cheeks flushed, and he was glad of the fire for hiding it so well. 'You still care for her...'

'I do, son.' Lyon gave him a squeeze. 'And while I might regret it sometimes...I really do care. There's nothing I'd like better than go back to the way we were before...' The man sighed again. 'But I don't know if that's even possible anymore.'

'What was she like...before?' Prank asked, staring at a faintly glowing coal, rather than the happy blaze that roared above it.

'Well, she was...' Lyon paused for a strange length of time before he nodded. 'She was very silly. Moody. She'd be reading a book, throw it across the room, and summon it back before it hit anything. She always acted...I mean act out, I suppose. She would say something absurd, and she'd flop about with those gangly arms of hers and make faces. She knew how to make me laugh. But she was always hurting, I guess, because her father left her and her mother before she was born...her mum was right nutters...and Hyena just began to deal with her sadness in the same way...' Lyon's voice was falling once more. 'And I've gone and done the same thing to her...she drove me to it...I couldn't have her hurting you.' Though his voice was almost inaudible, his grip was almost crushing now. 'I had to choose, and I hate that. I hate it.'

Prank tried to agree, but he found a certain anger growing in his heart. He pulled away, turning to look his father in the eye. 'What about Puffy, then?'

Lyon was taken aback, and the horror showed in his eyes. 'Yer sister...'

'I saw her tonight,' Prank hissed, trying not to shout, or cry. 'I saw her, dah. I saw her, and I didn't recognise her, but she knew me...and she looked so happy!' He screwed up his face, recalling those few moments with amazing clarity. 'Why isn't she with us? Why is she still with mum, if mum's so batty?'

Lyon was silent. He took a stick and poked the fire with it. A soft breeze began to blow, and his father still did not speak. Just when Prank was about to scream at his father's lack of response, the man spoke softly. 'I don't know how else to say this, son...'

'Say it. I don't understand.' Prank was losing his temper. 'Why are we leaving her with mum?'

Lyon closed his eyes. 'Because...' he pressed his free hand against his forehead. 'Because...' he swallowed. 'Oh, damn. Prank, it's not that she doesn't love you...she just didn't understand why she didn't have a girl...you understand that, right? She can take care of Puffy. She...just...she can't...'

Prank's heart sunk. 'Because I'm a...boy?'

Lyon nodded, covering his face and holding his breath. He took a few moments to come out of it, and he said, with a sad voice and a weary face, 'She just shut down...it has something to do with her family name...I know that much, considering that she wanted me to change mine when we got married. She needed an heir, or something. And I knew she'd never really liked men in general...she liked me because I did everything she asked me to...' He shook his head, and rubbed at his stubble. 'She *can* take care of Puffy...and I knew that you couldn't grow up living there, like that. I still love her, and hopefully, she'll pull through this. But don't think this is your fault. If anything it's her mother's fault for raising her this way. I'm really sorry about this, Prank.' He sighed. 'I probably shouldn't have told you.'

'I asked for it,' Prank told him with a wane smile. He stood up then, and headed for his sleeping bag. He put his boots back in their bag, and with a broad grin at his father, he nodded. 'Don't worry, dah. I had a feeling there was a good reason for it.' He turned his back then, and curling into his warm bag, he finally let his face fall. It did him no good for his father to be upset. But he could cry, if his father couldn't see. And even though his eyes were closed, warm tears welled from under his eyelids and soaked his pillow. He drew the flap over his head, and cried silently until he fell asleep.

* * *