The Hargrave Home

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Located in Norfolk, England, and home to what remains of the Hargrave family: Illisa, Miranda, Myron, and Callista, as well as three house elves of varying degrees of helpfulness: Egg, Dane, and Mage, and occasionally, two very heated ghosts: Abner and Ephraim.
The house is surrounded by mostly farm land, on a quiet road, and is connected to the floo network, although one cannot apparate directly into the house.
Miranda and Myron are away at school, and Illisa is usually busy hunting down a story, so Callista often has the run of the place.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

LOCATIONS

- Illisa -
work

- Miranda -
school

- Myron -
school

- Callista -
home

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

PETS

- Illisa's border collie, Rose -

- Myron's bull terrier, Jock -

- Callista's Siamese cat, Danilo -

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Something's happening to me
Every time I cross the street
Feels a lot like destiny
But I don't care about that
I'm making you a habit
It's taking all I have, yeah

ᴍʏʀᴏɴ
ɴᴀᴛʜᴀɪʀ
ʜᴀʀɢʀᴀᴠᴇ
halfblood │ fourth year │ gryffindor

Myron might have been tempting fate by watching a horror movie at midnight while home alone, but did it really count if his half-sisters were sleeping upstairs and there was still a house elf or two puttering around? Besides, he'd watched so many scary movies over the years that at this point the slasher was more amusing than anything else. He had tried to see if Miranda or Callista wanted to watch it, even if they pissed him off, but Miranda was a wimp and Callista had just rolled her eyes, saying she had better things to do. What 'better things', he had no idea. Probably plotting world domination from her bedroom.

He got up to get a glass of water, since he'd been shoveling popcorn in his mouth for a good thirty minutes, and wandered into the kitchen, blinking tiredly in confusion at the house elf there. "What's wrong, Mage?" Mage was the oldest of the three house elves that had accompanied their move into the new house from the old estate, and she was half-blind and half-deaf but generally pretty with it. He wished she wouldn't call him 'Master Hargrave'; the house elves seemed convinced he was now the patriarch of the house, which was a little ridiculous, since his mam was really the one calling the shots.

"Mage sees a man outside, Master Hargrave," the elderly elf rasped, staring blankly out the patio doors and into the garden. Myron resisted the urge to run upstairs like a terrified little kid. Could it be a neighbor? Some random drunk? Mam was staying out late to finish up an article; she'd promised to be home by eleven, but losing track of time wasn't unusual for her. Still, he warily approached the door to get a better look. "Master Hargrave, be careful," cautioned Mage. "Mage will send Egg to get the Mistress-,"

There was a flash of light and the patio doors shattered in a cacophony of glass and wood, sending Myron flying back until he hit the kitchen counter with a yelp. There was a gasp from the hall, and Myron tried to roll over to see who it was, but his head was spinning and he was bleeding from fine cuts all over his arms; he'd managed to protect his face at the last moment, but blood was trickling down the side of his neck from a gash in his head as well. Someone yelled his name, but his ears were ringing too badly. "Randa, hide," he mumbled blankly, somehow aware that the blurry shape was her and not Callista.

Glass crunched underfoot as Miranda practically flew back upstairs. Myron tried to look for Mage, but she was nowhere to be seen. Had she apparated away? Someone crouched down beside him, and Myron tried to focus on the pale shape. Then he recognized the man, and scrabbled weakly at his pocket for a wand that was not there. He'd left it upstairs. He tried to form the words to yell or curse at the man, but his throat hurt too much from the long fingers currently digging deep into it. "Nothing to say to me?" Faron Hargrave mocked almost gently. "I thought you took after your mother. She was always very talkative. Especially the last time." Myron clawed at the hand around his throat silently, expression caught between panic and fury. "But perhaps you're your father's son, b*****d," the blond man mused, and let go of Myron's throat as the boy gasped for air. "He never said a word."

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Addictive personalities
Attract the opposite to me
I'll keep them buried underneath
Where I don't care about that
And when they get loco, there's always more tomorrow
Role models, how did you get so hollow?

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Pain from pearls; hey little girl-
How much have you grown?
Pain from pearls; hey little girl-
Flower for the ones you've known.
Are you on fire, from the years?
What would you give for your kid fears?

ℳ𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓪
ℛ𝓪𝓺𝓾𝒆𝓵
ℋ𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓿𝒆
AGE FIFTEEN │ PUREBLOOD │ SQUIB

Miranda was helping her younger sister push her desk in front of the bedroom door when their half-brother started screaming downstairs. The two froze. Jock was growling at their heels, trying to get at the door, and when Callista tried to pull him back he snapped at her. "Stupid dog!" Callista hissed under her breath, but Miranda could tell that her hotheaded younger sister was terrified. She was terrified too. Her whole body was shaking like she'd just gotten off a roller coaster or narrowly avoided being hit by a car.

"He's going to kill us," Miranda said in a panic, grunting as she pushed and tugged at the desk. "After he kills Myron. He's supposed to be in prison!" Callista was silent. "Lissie!" Miranda snapped. "Help me! We have to hide!"

"He knows we're here," the blonde girl retorted, face drawn and pale. "Hiding isn't going to help."

"I don't even have a wand!" Miranda wiped at her eyes, which were tearing up. This couldn't be real. It had to be like a nightmare or something. Faron wasn't supposed to be here, he was supposed to be in Azkaban, and they were supposed to be safe here. They'd moved! This was- this was what had happened with Mama and Papa all over again. Except she wasn't eleven anymore; she wasn't a little girl.

Yet she felt like one all over again, wanting her mother. There were a few moments of silence from downstairs, and then another scream. Callista stepped away from the door entirely, arms wrapped around her midsection, mumbling something. Jock kept scratching at it. "Callista!" the brunette sobbed. "Come on, we have to block the door!"

"This is- I have to-," the blonde girl suddenly wrenched the desk back from the door entirely, and fumbled with the lock. "I have to go down there, he won't hurt me, I can talk to him-,"

"Are you mad?!" Miranda grabbed for her, but in her shock couldn't get a good grip on her nimble younger sister, who flung the door open and bolted down the hall towards the stairs, whispering, "Hide under my bed," over her shoulder. Miranda started after her, then froze in terror. Her sister was going to get herself killed, but there was nothing she could do to help without a wand.

She stood in the dark hall for a few seconds, crying silently, before turning back. She couldn't lose her sister too. Callista was all she had left, even if they sometimes squabbled, even if Miranda hated the constant reminder that she'd never been good enough, never been considered a 'real' Hargrave, just because she couldn't do magic. And now people were going to die, all because she didn't have a bloody stick to wave around.

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Secret staircase, running high,
You had a hiding place.
Secret staircase, running low,
But they all know, now you're inside.
Skipping stones, we know the price now, any sin will do.
Replace the ones, the ones, the ones, that you love.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Hands too burnt
Sitting on the side of the road
Ain't got an honest feeling in my bones
Felt like a fever, came on like a storm
But what I felt, it can't be helped no more

CALLISTA
DULCE
HARGRAVE
pureblood slytherin │ third year │ chaser

Callista wasn't as frightened as she should have been. Well, maybe frightened wasn't the right word. She was frightened, but not for herself. Myron was unconscious and bleeding on the floor, but she wasn't scared for herself in the same way. Maybe it was because she was in shock, maybe it was because she was in denial- but Faron would never hurt her. That might have been the problem. Of course he wouldn't hurt her- she was the only 'true' Hargrave left. But he would hurt people she cared about, and as much as she fought with Myron, he was still her brother, regardless of who his mother was.

But Faron had stopped when she'd asked him to, and now she looked at her uncle carefully. They looked close enough to be siblings- they shared the same fair hair, pale skin, and green eyes. Faron looked simultaneously both younger and older than his twenty six years; his face was more weathered than she remembered it, any traces of boyishness long gone, but his eyes had the same slightly surprised, vulnerable look, and his hair looked like it'd been freshly cut. "I'm sorry, Lissie," he said, honestly, and despite it all Callista almost ran and hugged him, the way she always had as a child.

Her uncle had understood her. He had understood how it felt to be ignored by your own father, how it felt to never measure up, due to circumstances you couldn't control, he had understood her moods, dismissed as 'brattiness' by the other adults. He had been kind and gentle and patient. And she had never been able to connect the pieces- how could someone who she loved so much do something so terrible? It wasn't possible. Because if it was true, and Faron had done everything they'd said he had, then... what did it say about her? The only person who'd understood her was a murderer?

"You didn't have to hurt him," she whispered, looking at Myron. "How- how did you even find us here?"

"Your letters," he said, matter of factly. "I knew you were trying to tell me where you were, so I figured it out. You didn't even go that far! But I'm here now, Lissie. We can be a family now, a proper one."

Callista wanted to say that she had a family, and that even if she had complained and groused about her stepmother and half-brother in her letters over the years, they were still all she had left. Of course, she would have preferred Faron not be in prison for the rest of his life, but it wasn't as if he could have lived with them, even if he was innocent. He hated Lisa and Myron, and had never really interacted much with Miranda at all, despite them living in the same home. "This isn't what I wanted!" she blurted out. "I just- I just wanted them to see that you were innocent, that Grandfather made you- that he- he went in your mind and twisted it, Faron! I know you- this isn't like you, you would never-,"

He laughed in disbelief. "Lissie, if anyone tried to twist my mind, it was Nathaniel and Mother, acting as if the downfall of our name wasn't being brought about. They were the delusional ones. We're Hargraves, and for the heir to lower himself to a halfblood whore who sired his b*****d-," he cast a look at Myron. "Was untenable. Father was right. We couldn't just sit back and let that happen."

"Grandfather didn't have to kill anyone!" she spat. "He- he killed Mama! And Grandmother! They didn't do anything wrong!'

"They couldn't see reason anymore," Faron insisted regretfully. "They would have sacrificed your upbringing for the sake of a squib and a b*****d."

"Miranda is my sister! Your niece!" Callista started to cry, because now she saw it, having no other choice, and she wanted to look away, but couldn't.

"It's unfortunate," Faron agreed, "But sometimes the weaker branches of a tree have to be cut away so the the stronger elements can survive. My father- your grandfather was just doing what had to be done, for the sake of all of us. Lissie, I'm sorry it turned out the way it did. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt anyone, really. But there was no other way."

Callista shook her head weakly. "You're-," You're a liar and a coward and a fanatic, she wanted to say, and you can't stop yourself because you still think Grandfather is watching your every move, ready to tear you to pieces if you misstep. "Faron, if you hurt anyone else, I'll never go anywhere with you," she finally said. "And if you try to take me I'll fight you and you'll have to stun me or imperius me or obliviate me and that won't be me anymore. So... so if you love me and want us to be a family you have to promise not to hurt Myron or Miranda or Lisa, and then I'll go with you." It was the only thing she could think of. He could very well call her bluff, but Callista wasn't even sure that he had the willpower to imperius her. He hated Myron enough to inflict curses on him, but her? Faron loved her, in a pathetic, broken sense of the word.

He looked caught off guard. "But Father would-," Callista backed away a few steps, shakily drawing her own wand, and he reached for her, but didn't point his wand in her direction, face pained. "Lissie, please..," he sighed, and then finally nodded. "Alright. But you have to come with me right now, before the Thorburn whore brings down half the Ministry on our heads. We can go somewhere safe." Dreading every step, Callista warily approached him. He couldn't apparate inside this house, but as soon as they got outside. She stopped just in front of him, looking up at him with a reddened, tear-stained face, and Faron put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "I could never hurt you, Lissie. You're all I have left."

She opened her mouth to reply, but a crack rang through the air and Faron was sent tumbling backwards into a wall. Callista whirled around to see Mage and Dane, both of whom looked similarly determined. Faron was slightly dazed but still aware enough to look shocked as he staggered back to his feet. "I am your rightful master-," he started-

"Mage is very sorry," Mage rasped, not looking very sorry at all, "But the only master here is not you."

"Master Hargrave is hurt!" Dane squeaked, trying to hoist Myron up with little success, before there was another crack and he and the injured boy disappeared.

Faron had drawn his wand once more. "Callista," he said seriously. "Come here."

"No," Callista said quietly. "Leave."

His look of shock and almost grief nearly did hurt her, but she didn't move. His eyes narrowed after a moment. "So be it, Lissie."

Then a multitude of cracks were heard from outside, as well as shouts, and Callista distantly heard her stepmother yelling their names. Faron seemed to realize that he no longer had the upper hand, and bolted for the shattered back door, just as Mage sent a lamp and a coffee table flying after him. Callista stumbled backwards towards the stairs and sat down, burying her head in her hands and crying like a little child as Lisa and more than a few aurors and hit wizards burst in.

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Swift as a river
With a hand as hard as stone
It's hot as hell, the saying will leave you cold
I'm a believer; my word's as good as gold
But walkin' a fine line like mine you need to hold