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"Can I see Mummy today?" She asks, like she does every day. On the days she can see Mummy she always gets a good morning kiss. It's her favourite way to start that day.
Gemmy's smile fades a little. "Not this morning, Merope." She says, just as she said yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. "Your lady mother is unwell today. Perhaps tomorrow."
Merope is a big girl. Father told her that big girls don't cry so much, especially not in front of the rabble. She doesn't know if Gemmy counts but it's good practice. Her lip won't stop wobbling though.
It's been days since she saw her Mummy, and it's a Tuesday. She always gets to have breakfast with Mummy on Tuesdays. It's not fair.
Father always told her she could have anything she wanted but all she wants is Mummy and she can't have her.
Her thought are interrupted by Gemmy picking her up and pressing a sweet kiss to her temple, just below where her dark curls end. "I know I'm not your mummy, little princess." She murmurs, pressing another kiss to the centre of her cheek. "But I will have to do for today."
Merope hugs Gemmy back. She loves Gemmy, she does, almost as much as she loves Mummy. Gemmy is her favourite person after Mummy.
But she hasn't seen Mummy for three days. And it's a Tuesday.
So Merope, aware that it is appallingly bad behaviour, sulks all through breakfast. She sulks through Gemmy dressing her. And she sulks all through their walk.
The snow had fallen last night, covering all of the grounds in with three inches of sparkling white crystals. It looks beautiful.
It doesn't cheer Merope up. Mummy would love it.
Mummy loves the snow so much. She never goes outside, but every year she breaks that rule for the first snowfall.
Mummy and Merope have a snowball fight, and then they build a snowman, and then they go inside and have hot chocolate and treacle tart.
Every year.
Even Father joined them once. He had looked so funny with snow in his hair that Merope had almost forgotten her manners and laughed at him.
He hadn't done it again, but Mummy and Merope do every year.
And this year, Mummy didn't. Because she's too sick and if she's too sick for this then she must be really sick, because Mummy is always sick and always before she comes outside for the first snow anyway.
So Mummy must be feeling really awful and Merope is a terrible person for wanting to see her when it could make her sicker, but Merope doesn't care. She just wants Mummy.
"Really, Merope." Gemmy says as they head inside. "I would have thought you would have liked seeing the snow. You can tell your mother about it next time you see her."
Merope doesn't take her eyes off the stairs. "When?"
As she had thought, Gemmy hesitates.
"When she is better, of course." She says at last.
That is the last straw.
Merope sits down on the stairs and starts to cry. There's a little part of her that is aware she isn't in the private wings of the castle yet, and she's supposed to be perfect in public, and that she isn't behaving like a proper Gaunt.
But she can't help it.
It's been three days, and Mummy has missed the first snowfall. She's never missed the first snowfall before.
"Merope." Gemmy hisses, sitting down beside her and tugging Merope onto her lap. "Merope, come here, shhh it's alright." She pulls Merope's face down into her shoulder and stands back up, murmuring gentle words Merope isn't paying enough attention to understand.
It's all wrong.
She wants Mummy. She wants Mummy to hug her and pick her up and comfort her like she used to, before she got sick. She doesn't want Gemmy.
"I know," comes Gemmy's voice, "I know, but you can't see her today. Shhh, it's alright."
She is vaguely aware of Gemmy walking up the stairs carrying her, even though Merope is six and should be walking by herself. Merope doesn't care. Gemmy isn't Mummy, so she doesn't care if Gemmy has to carry her up all of the stairs and get in trouble for coddling her.
The twisting in her stomach at the thought of getting Gemmy in trouble with Father just makes her cry harder. "Merope." Gemmy says, almost desperately, jiggling her like she's just a crying baby. Which she is. She's a crybaby. "Honey, it's okay, you can see her soon, you'll just have to stick with me until then, come on, we're almost back to your-"
She cuts herself off and deposits Merope on the ground - which is flat. They've finished climbing the stairs. But she stopped talking which means there's someone here who frightens her.
"Miss Farley." Oh. That's Father. "Would you care to explain why you are carrying my heir after I explicitly told you to cease?"
Merope still can't stop crying. She's hiccuping now, the awful kind that make her whole body hurt. She hates it.
She knows she's being a crybaby and she's gone without seeing Mummy for much longer than three days before, and she really shouldn't disturb Father while he's working because he's very important and very busy and hates being interrupted, but Mummy missed the first snowfall and she can't stop crying.
What if Mummy isn't even here for next year's?
"I'm so sorry, my lord." Gemmy says, her voice hesitant as it only ever is around Father. "She wouldn't stop crying, I was trying to get her to somewhere quiet to calm her down."
Father hums. He kneels down in front of Merope, who snaps her mouth shut, and asks her what it is that could possibly be reason enough for such appalling behaviour. The disappointment in his eyes makes her feel funny inside. She tries so hard to be good, she says, but she just wants to see Mummy.
"Please, Father." She says, turning her eyes up to him. "I just want Mummy. I'll be good, I'll be so good, I'll be perfect, I promise, I just want to see her, please."
Something softens a little in his eyes. A twist in his stern mouth. "Farley." He snaps. Gemmy swallows and comes to stand before him, her hands folded in front of her. "Take her to Harriet. Thirty minutes. Make sure Harriet understands this is not a reward for her. Remind her that her actions have consequences for her child."
Gemmy curtsies, a little shakily.
"Of course my lord. Thank you for your kindness, my lord." She says, a little breathlessly.
Father nods, and stalks across the corridor to his study. The doors slam shut behind him.
Gemmy takes in a shaky breath. Her hands twist together violently, once, before she wrenches them apart to hang limp in the folds of her robes. "Alright, my lady, shall we go see your mother?" She says.
She offers Merope her hand. It's trembling a little bit. Everyone always trembles when Father leaves the room. Merope is intimately familiar with the sigh of relief that gusts from every pair of lips as a door shuts behind him. There's a particular slump to people's shoulders as well.
She takes Gemmy's hand.
They make their way through the castle from the West Tower, where Merope and Father live, down the stairs again and along the corridors and up the stairs again until they get to the North Tower.
Mummy lives in the top of the North Tower, in the most beautiful set of rooms Merope has ever seen. All gold and white and green and so many sparkly things. It's like Mummy's a princess from the old stories.
She even has guards outside of her door, just like Merope. It's because Merope and Mummy are the most important people in the world, so Father has to make sure that they are safe. Today, it's Barty and Rabby looking after Mummy. She waves at them, and Barty winks at her.
"Miss Farley." Rabby says to Gemmy. "We were not made aware that The Lady was to recieve visitors today."
Gemmy smiles at him, the tight smile Gemmy keeps for the guards. Gemmy doesn't like any of them. "Special permission from Our Lord." She replies sweetly.
"The Lady has not been granted visitors." Rabby says, his voice firm.
Merope sighs. Unless Father comes with her, they always go through this. He doesn't like people seeing Mummy without permission because he's scared of Mummy being hurt. Merope gets it. She's scared of Mummy being hurt too, especially when Mummy's always so sick and sad. But it's Merope. She would never hurt her Mummy.
Gemmy looks down at her, and then her grip on Merope's hand tightens imperceptibly. She takes in a steady breath. Then she raises her chin and meets Rabby's eyes.
"It is not for The Lady." She says. "Our Lord has granted thirty minutes for my little lady's sake. She misses her mother. You would not wish to cause the little lady unhappiness, would you?"
Rabby and Barty exchange glances, before shrugging. "She hasn't made a sound since Our Lord left." Rabby says. "Wards say she's well, but that's all. Be careful, he won't be happy if the little lady sees anything."
With the usual warning out of the way, they stand aside, taking one handle each of the big heavy doors that mark the beginning of Mummy's apartments. Merope can hear the locks clicking open under their touch. She counts them.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Silence.
There used to be seven.
Barty and Rabby haul the doors open, not all the way, just enough for Gemmy and Merope to slip through. "Thirty minutes." Barty reminds Gemmy as the doors start to close. "Then we'll come in and get you."
The doors bang shut, and Merope can hear the locks clicking back into place.
Mummy's sitting room is a mess. One of her pretty porcelain tea sets is a smashed heap of shards on the rug, and some of the curtains are slashed and torn. The lovely gilded furniture is gouged, some of the little chairs listening to the side on broken legs.
There are scorch marks on the wall.
Gemmy takes in a sharp breath. "How could h-" She cuts herself short and lets go of Merope's hand. "Go find your mother, Merope. I'll call for some tea and tidy up so you can sit with her. How does that sound?"
"Great." Merope says. Father doesn't like her responding like that, but he doesn't know and neither Gemmy nor Mummy will tattle on her. She learned it from Mummy anyway. "Thank you Gemmy."
Merope leaves the sitting room, and goes into the dressing room. No Mummy.
She's a little disappointed. She likes sitting in the dressing room while Mummy gets ready, likes watching the pretty dresses and the jewellery and the cosmetic charms. It's cold and empty though, with dresses all over the floor.
The balcony is empty too, and so is Mummy's library.
No Mummy in the bathroom either. It's the second most likely place for her to be. Mummy loves taking long hot baths. She always puts the pretty bubbles in, even though they make her eyes all red when she gets out.
There's only one place left for Mummy to be. That isn't good, Merope knows. Mummy's only there this late in the day if it's a really bad day.
She tiptoes through the door into the darkened room.
Mummy is in bed, as she had thought, lying on her side. All Merope can see is her long black hair splayed over the pillows, in the same wild, tangled curls that Gemmy curses under her breath every day while she's brushing Merope's hair. She thinks Merope can't hear her, and Merope pretends she can't because she likes learning the fun new words.
The curtains are drawn, and the room is so dark. For the first time, Merope is afraid in her mother's rooms.
She clutches onto her skirts. It's not Mummy's hand or even Gemmy's, but it's better than nothing when she feels scared. And it's sur-rip-tit-ious enough that Father wouldn't mind it as much as holding Mummy's hand next time they have to go to one of his boring grown-up parties.
"Mummy?" She ventures, feeling very small and timid. Her voice falls flat in the dead air of Mummy's room. But it is enough.
Mummy gasps and sits bolt upright. She is wearing the prettiest white nightdress, all lace and ruffles and so soft looking, even with the collar that reaches all the way to her chin. Her eyes are a little red and she is pale, but otherwise she looks alright.
"Are you feeling better today, Mummy?" She asks.
"Merope." Mummy breathes, the vivid green eyes she didn't pass on to Merope wide and almost wild. "Oh, my baby."
She holds out her arms, and that is all it takes. Merope runs to the bed and throws herself at Mummy. Sick or not, Mummy barely notices the impact. She pulls Merope to her, holds her close, as if she wants to bring Merope back inside of her and never let her go again.
Merope closes her eyes and tucks her face into the hollow between Mummy's neck and her shoulder. Mummy winces. "Gentle, Merry, my love." Her voice is hoarse, now that Merope thinks about it. "Mummy has a sore throat."
"Sorry Mummy." She whispers, and hides her face in Mummy's hair instead. Mummy always makes her feel like the rest of the world isn't there. She makes her feel safe, even though Father is the one who protects them.
"It's quite alright, lovey." Mummy whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of Merope's head. "You could never hurt me."
She nestles deeper into her Mummy. She missed her so much. It isn't the same without Mummy's hugs and kisses. Gemmy tries, but she isn't Merope's Mummy. That matters.
"I missed you, Mummy." She says. Her eyes are prickling. Father doesn't like it when she cries, but Mummy never seems to mind. "You missed the first snow."
Mummy somehow, impossibly, holds her tighter. The tears well up even more. "I missed you too, my Merry." She says, her voice catching a little. "I'm so sorry baby, Mummy will do better next time. I promise."
For a few glorious minutes they just sit there, curled up in the mess of Mummy's bed and clinging onto each other. It's nice. Peaceful.
The silence is broken by the sound of a throat being cleared. A familiar throat.
It's Gemmy, standing in the doorway. "I took the liberty of sending for some tea." She says to Mummy. "Perhaps you would like to take it in the sitting room, my lady?"
Mummy doesn't speak for a long minute, just sitting and holding Merope to her. Then she sighs.
"He would want that, wouldn't he." She doesn't wait for an answer, just stands up with Merope in her arms and walks past Gemmy, through to the sitting room.
The furniture is pristine again, the curtains are whole. There is nothing on the rug. Even the scorch marks are gone from the walls.
"Like nothing ever happened." Mummy says, looking around. Her lips purse a little.
Merope is glad. Mummy's room is so pretty, it would have been very sad if Gemmy hadn't been able to fix it.
"Alright," Mummy says after a minute, starting to walk again. "Where do you want to sit, my Merry?"
She's walking towards one of the window seats, one of the ones that look out onto the grounds. You can see for miles on a clear day.
It will let Mummy see the snow, which is the next best thing after their usual games with the first snowfall.
The window is also open.
Oh no.
Merope knows that you can't get cold when you're sick. The last time she was sick, Gemmy had wrapped her in so many blankets that she had looked like a fat worm.
And Mummy has been sick for much longer than Merope had been.
"That one!" She says, pointing to a red and gold armchair near the fire. It's got a thick blanket folded over one arm.
Gemmy had had the same thought by the looks of it. The little table beside it is almost groaning with tea and cakes.
The fireplace has been lit as well, the flames leaping up the chimney with the crackling sound Merope loves. Someone, Gemmy or the elves, has filled the basket by the fire with dry wood so that they can feed it themselves.
"There used to be a chair like this in my common room." Mummy says as she sinks down into it and shifts Merope to sit on her lap. "Three of them, actually. My friends and I used to sit in them to do our homework in the evening."
She gazes into the fire, her smile wobbling and disappearing. Her free hand clenches into a fist.
Merope has seen this happen before. Gemmy had told her that Mummy's friends had all died or gone away, and sometimes it makes her sad. The best way to help her, Gemmy had told her, was to give her a hug. To make her feel happier.
So Merope wraps her arms about Mummy's neck and holds tight. "I love you Mummy." She whispers.
Mummy starts, coming out of whatever she had been thinking.
"Oh, Merry." She says softly, wrapping her arms about her. "I love you too baby."
They stay like that for a minute, just holding onto each other. Merope can faintly hear Gemmy moving around in the other rooms, no doubt putting them back in order.
After a minute, Mummy pulls away. "Thank you Merry," She says, smiling. "I feel much better now."
She takes the blanket from the arm of the chair, tucking it in around them. "How is that?"
Merope snuggles closer. Her Mummy is holding her, and the rich brown blanket is so warm there has to be an enchantment over it. She feels comfortable and toasty, and entirely safe for the first time in three days.
The only thing that could make this better would be if- "You may have one slice of cake to start with." Mummy says as she starts to pour the tea. "What do you want, lovey?"
"Treacle tart." Merope replies, like she always does.
It's Mummy's favourite, and Merope loves Mummy, so it's her favourite too. Mummy has very good taste.
"Well." Mummy laughs. "It's a good thing Gemma had them send up a whole tart then, isn't it?"
Gemmy doesn't usually let Merope have treacle tart too often, but she always gets a little soft if Merope hasn't seen Mummy for a bit.
(Once, when she didn't get to see Mummy for two and a half weeks, Gemmy let her have it for pudding every night. It hadn't fixed things of course. It was just treacle tart. But it had reminded her of Mummy, and of all the times they had eaten it together. It had helped, a little.)
Mummy hands her a pretty plate with a slice of tart on it, and a delicate silver fork. She takes her own plate and fork, and clinks it against Merope's own. "Cheers." She says, smiling.
"Cheers." Merope echoes back, taking a big bit of tart on the fork and stuffing it all into her mouth. Her cheeks are bulging out, and she would be in so much trouble if she did this at the supper table with Father.
But Father isn't here. It's Mummy, who is swallowing her own mouthful of tart to laugh and tap Merope's cheeks and call her 'my little squirrel'.
The taste of treacle spreads across Merope's tongue, thick and warm and sweet. It tastes like hugs and laughter and Mummy, and Merope has never tasted anything so good in her life.
After two slices, they abandon the plates entirely. There is no one here to tell them off for bad manners as they eat the tart from the dish, giggling and shushing each other.
"Don't tell your father or Gemma." Mummy whispers through a mouthful of tart. "It's our little secret, yes?"
Merope bulges out her cheeks like a squirrel's again, on purpose this time, and nods. They pinky swear on it - another habit from Mummy that Merope has picked up and Father doesn't like. It's okay, they just do it when he isn't around.
By the time Gemmy returns to the sitting room, the incriminating dishes have been neatly stacked on the table, and the two of them are politely drinking tea from their cups.
"I'm glad to see you feeling better, my lady." Gemmy says to Mummy.
Mummy smiles. It isn't like the smile Gemmy gives the guards, but it isn't the smile Mummy gives to Merope either. "Thank you, Gemma. Come, sit down and have some cake, you look run off your feet."
"Thank you, my lady." Gemmy says, sitting down in the chair opposite them with a sigh and tipping her head to rest against the back. "And it was your daughter doing the running, I'll have you know."
"Oh? What have you done now, my Merry?" Mummy asks.
Gemmy's eyes open, and she leans forward to take a slice of cheesecake. "You haven't told your mother about Lady Lestrange and the pillowcase?"
Merope shakes her head, not looking at anyone. There are things that Merope isn't allowed to tell Mummy, because Father says they would just make her upset and stressed and then she would get sicker.
She doesn't want to hurt Mummy. But it means she doesn't always know what she can tell Mummy.
The story about Lady Lestrange and the pillowcase is a very exciting story, so she had thought she wasn't allowed to.
"Well." Gemmy says, leaning back again with the cheesecake on her plate. "I am exhausted after running you around. So I am going to sit here and eat cake, and you are going to tell your mother." Gemmy is very good about knowing what she can and can't say to Mummy, so if Gemmy says it's alright then it's fine.
Merope launches into the story. Mummy is an excellent listener. She gives Merope her full attention, and laughs and gasps in all the right places. It's nice. Gemmy had been so worried when it had happened, and Father had just been irritated that she had caused so much trouble, so neither of them had really listened to the story.
When she's finished, Mummy gives her a muffin, and tells her a story about a similar incident in her school days.
Merope knows she's supposed to want to go to Slytherin like every Gaunt before her - but Mummy makes Gryffindor sound so much more fun. And she had friends.
Father never talks about friends. He has allies, and followers, and then he has Mummy and Merope.
But Mummy, in the right mood, will tell her about so many different friends that Merope's head spins. She wonders what it would be like, sleeping in the same tower that Mummy once slept in, maybe making friends the way Mummy did.
It doesn't really matter. She isn't going to Hogwarts for years and years.
So instead, she listens to Mummy tell her about the Weasley twins turning their friends into canaries, and she tells Mummy what she is learning, and everything that happened in the last three days since she saw Mummy.
It's so nice to sit there with Mummy, full of tea and cake, under a thick blanket, like they have all the time in the world. They don't ,of course.
All too soon, the door slams open. Father is framed in the resulting gap, his smile unusually pleasant.
"I said thirty minutes." He says, and looks at Merope.
Oh.
That hadn't felt like thirty minutes.
Merope starts to untuck the blanket so she can stand up, but Mummy's arms tighten.
"Five more minutes." Mummy begs. "Please, I haven't seen her for three days. Let me say goodbye at least."
Father raises one dark eyebrow. "And what makes you think that you have earned five more minutes, Harriet darling?"
Silence.
The awful, horrible kind. Mummy's breath is short and staggered in her ears. Almost sobs.
"Please." Mummy breathes at last. "I haven't, but please. My baby, Tom. My baby."
Father sighs, letting go of the door handle and folding his arms. "I am not unreasonable. Say goodbye. She will be back the day after tomorrow. I expect you to be presentable in front of our daughter, Harriet."
The whoosh of Mummy's breath leaving her lungs is almost painful. Her breath is still hitching, but it sounds less like sobs.
"Thank you." She breathes. Father nods once, and remains at the door.
Merope turns around, and throws her arms around Mummy's neck. Mummy winces a little but she hugs back just as tightly.
She rocks Merope back and forth, back and forth, back and forth like she's a little baby again. "Goodbye, my Merry." She breathes into Merope's ear. "You be good for Gemma and your tutors, you hear me?"
"Good as gold, Mummy." Merope promises. Mummy presses a kiss to her cheek, and another and another.She peppers Merope's face with kisses, as if she is trying to make up for all the ones she has missed. Merope basks in it.
Father hardly touches her, her tutors and guards wouldn't dare, and Gemmy is lovely but she isn't Mummy. Merope misses Mummy so much.
"I love you, baby." Mummy says in between kisses. "I love you so much."
"I love you too Mummy." Merope gets out. Her throat feels tight. She heard what Father said. The day after tomorrow. That's two whole days without Mummy after three days before this.
That's almost a week and she hasn't even seen Mummy for an hour. It isn't fair. Father promises her she can have anything she wants, and then when she wants Mummy she can never have as much time with her as she wants.
Merope cuts the thought off. That's selfish. Mummy isn't well. She needs time and rest to get better. So Merope has to do her part by not pestering Mummy all the time.
"I'll see you in two days, baby." Mummy says when Father's foot starts tapping. "I love you so much, alright?"
She presses one more kiss to Merope's forehead. "I love you, Merry."
"I love you Mummy." Merope says, sliding off of Mummy's lap and taking Gemmy's hand. "All the way to the moon."
"I love you all the way to the moon and back." Mummy replies, a wobbly smile on her face. She turns her eyes to Gemmy. "Look after my baby, Gemma?"
Gemmy curtsies as she always does. "Of course my lady."
Then Gemmy is leading her out of Mummy's rooms. Father closes the door behind them and strides past them to descend the stairs.
"Your tutors are waiting, Merope." He says as he passes her in a flurry of dark robes.
His footsteps recede down the stairs. It is silent, except for Barty shifting on one foot and the faint sound of Mummy crying behind the door. Merope's tummy twists uncomfortably.
She wishes Mummy would get better. Then she could see her all the time and everything would be alright.
She thinks about it as Gemmy takes her downstairs to the big room where she takes her lessons. Maybe if she learns well enough she can become a Healer, and make Mummy better.