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Ariana had woken too early in the morning- it hadn’t been on purpose. Her sleep had been restless and disturbed, drifting in and out of nightmares about her mother.
She was terribly thirsty, so she started to make her way downstairs to retrieve a glass of water. Nobody else seemed to be awake- certainly Aberforth wasn’t, as she had not heard his usual loud footsteps about the house in the morning.
So it was her surprise to find her eldest brother sitting at the dining table, reading some-sort of paperwork it seemed. He stiffened when she walked into the room. Ariana's mood was immediately dampened.
Albus had always been cautious around her, seemingly not knowing how to act around her. It endlessly frustrated her the way he treated her as if she would have an outburst at any moment. And while it was somewhat true, it still made her feel different. Other. But it had worsened after her mother had died: she knew she deserved it. She had killed their mother after all, but it still made her feel horrible. At least Aberforth still acted as if he could stand the very sight of her. Albus only acted even more awkward. It made her wish to curl up small and sob endlessly some days.
"Good morning." She had greeted faintly.
Albus paused before responding: "Good morning Ariana. How are you feeling?"
Irritation flickered inside her, before shortly being extinguished. To many it may seem as if Albus was being caring: but Ariana knew better and what it translated to. Are you going to have an outburst today? Are me and Aberforth going to be the next you kill in one of your outbursts?
"I... don't understand how I feel."
It was not a lie; her moods changed so violently and rapidly that it was terribly confusing and even distressing at times.
Albus said nothing in response, only giving a stiff nod.
She sat down at the table quietly once she had retrieved her glass of water. Albus seemed surprised by that.
"You should go back to sleep Ariana."
It was now her time to not give a response; merely looked at the floor in embarrassment, fiddling with her nightgown.
For once, Albus seemed to understand her, or at least her reaction. He did not press further on the matter. She did appreciate that about how Albus handled his interactions with her. Sometimes Aberforth's questions could overwhelm her. She knew he meant well, but it sometimes would be even worse to her state for him to ask what had caused an outburst directly after it had happened.
Albus sighed.
"Just be silent, please. I'm reviewing the finances, so I will need to concentrate."
She merely nodded.
And so they sat in relative silence. However, Albus kept brushing his hair out of his face- it was rather long for a boy. To his shoulders. He made a frustrated noise when he brushed it away for the fifth time.
Ariana giggled: "You should cut it."
Albus simply stared at her as if she had said something akin to threatening him.
"No."
Ariana giggled faintly again.
Albus made another frustrated noise before putting the paperwork down and drawing out a ribbon from his waistcoat pocket. He grabbed his hair and started to braid it. Ariana watched intently.
Before her mother had died, she had braided Ariana's hair. Ariana had never learned how to do it herself- she was either too weak, even days after an outburst, or would get ill-tempered when it did not work out.
Ariana had enjoyed when her mother would braid her hair: she would talk while doing it, or sometimes hummed. Ariana had found it soothing.
But she had ruined it all with an outburst. Had killed her own mother: she did not deserve to want her back with her. It would be terribly selfish.
Now that their mother had died, Ariana had also realized things she did not think of before, that made her feel all the more guilty: that her mother probably felt just as trapped as she did. That she had been stuck caring for her. But Ariana had been blinded by her own rage and misery at being trapped in the house forevermore that she had never considered it. She of course, would never shout, like Aberforth did, unless having an outburst. Would never complain.
She knew they assumed that she felt no anger. But just because she rarely showed it, did not mean she wasn't filled with it. Some days it felt like the only emotion she was capable of feeling anymore. And then she would weep: weep for the girl she had been before the incident. The girl she could have been if it never happened.
She naturally had too much free time, which also naturally meant she had too much time to think on things. She would sometimes lose herself for days imagining what could have been. What Hogwarts might be like. If she would excel at her studies. How different their family might have been.
She could hardly even remember what her father had looked like anymore.
"Ariana?" Questioned a voice.
She blinked.
It had been Albus.
She didn't reply, looking at his finished braid.
"Would you like for me to do your hair?" Albus asked her.
Ariana had been surprised by the offer- Albus did not often come too close: either because he thought it might set her off, or simply because he was just uncomfortable around her. She supposed he could not blame him. He probably wondered if going too close would end with him suffering their mothers fate.
She nodded. Albus stood, coming to stand behind her chair.
"One braid or two?"
Ariana thought before responding: "One, please."
Albus then got to work, in silence, as she had expected.
Albus had stopped trying to make small talk with her many weeks ago: it was fruitless and only done as he had felt obligated to do so.
She couldn't tell if she was grateful or hated it.
Ariana, over the years, had grown used to Albus constantly being in his room, likely reading or studying. Sometimes he would not even leave for meals, until mother would force him. That had just been the way it was in their house for as long as she remembered, even before the incident, so she had comfort in knowing that was not her fault. He was like a piece of a puzzle that did not fit into the family. A piece that looked like it would fit, but then when you tried to fit it in, it turned out to be slightly too small, or slightly too big. Always distant. Always working or reading.
But now he had been thrown into caring for her, becoming head of the house and had graduated, which meant he could no longer hide away in his room until it was time for Hogwarts.
His interactions with both her and Aberforth were strained on his part. If this was because he was uncomfortable around them or because he was trying to suppress his frustration, she could not tell. But she knew he was frustrated. Or had been before his friend had come.
Ariana did not know what to think of Albus's friend. She was naturally joyful that he had made a friend, but at the same time, Albus spent most of his day away at Mrs. Bagshot's house. Aberforth did not like this at all: but he kept quiet. He would instead talk to Ariana about how he should be here, instead of fooling around, if he was supposed to be the head of house. Aberforth did not care that he was gone or what he was doing, but was more angered by the fact Albus seemed so eager to neglect his duties and her.
Ariana was upset by it, but not because Albus had been around her constantly before their mothers death, but because a small part of her had hoped that maybe she would spend more time with them. With her. That she could actually come to know her eldest brother, and not the hollow shell that had rarely ever left his room. That he could finally fit into the puzzle, instead of feeling more like a guest in their own home.
"I have finished it." He said finally.
She turned and looked up at him, "Thank-you."
He smiled. It didn't seem forced for once.
"You look very pretty, Ariana." He said, smoothing the top of her hair.
She smiled back softly.
"Thank-you."
She would have hugged him, but she thought better of it. Maybe even if she might never know her elder brother truly, maybe she could settle for these moments that hadn't existed before.