Chapter 317 - Fawley Manor Ⅱ (1/2)

Bethanie only finally begins to breathe once she was far down the corridor. Bethanie lips are pressed together in anger, fuming she hissed, ”Kindness is only a weakness to an unscrupulous parent willing to kill or sell their offspring to further themselves!”

Taking a deep breath, Bethanie takes another deep breath and begins to exhale and inhale. She was already near the boy's room and she did not want to worry them even further. They were quite stressed as it was given the fateful antics of the Malfoy wedding. And despite not having been present themselves the effects had already trickled down to reach even the children.

Bethanie knocks once, before entering and smiles widely at seeing the two boys. The eldest, Spurgeon is large, and tall with the firm body of their father, but has their mother's face. However, Spurgeon had none of the levity of their parents and was a rather solemn dark-haired boy.

While the younger, Esmond is slender and beautiful as their mother. The only tarnish across the angelic features is a spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose. And unlike their parents, Esmond had a warm, gentle soul.

Bethanie greatly feared for him especially as Esmond did not have any of Spurgeon's cunning to hide his thoughts away from their parents. She greatly feared what was to come in merely two years, when Spurgeon left for Hogwarts. And Esmond would be left alone to their parent's gentle care until the following year when he too could escape their household.

Bethanie is brought out of her grim thoughts by Spurgeon's voice, ”Did mother attempt to convince you of another match, Bethanie?”

Bethanie's lips crinkle into a smile. ”She attempted too to no avail.”

”Who was it this time?” Spurgeon arched his brow.

”It matters not,” Bethanie said as she walked over to Esmond and tugged down an escaping wisp of hair.

”It must matter if you're so very distracted,” Spurgeon argued as he crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. ”I'd rather not have to resort other means to receive an answer, Bethanie.”

Bethanie acts all flustered as she holds her hands to her chest. ”Woe is me! Who will save this poor damsel in distress from this vicious ruffian?!”

Esmond, the dear heart that he is immediate springs into action. ”I will, Milady!” Esmond grabs a nearby candleholder and says, ”On Garde, you, nefarious brigade!”

Spurgeon snorts and holds his hands up in the air. ”I give up, you, ferocious, brave knight,” Spurgeon drily said with a roll of his eyes, before adding, ”And we are to leave soon, and I'd rather not have our clothes filled with wrinkles. Mother and father will surely take it out on Vimla.”

The wind in Esmond's sails blow out as he says, ”Mother and father surely won't, will they?” Vilma was more than a mere house elf to them for she'd shown them more love and kindness than their parents ever had.

Spurgeon's eyes flicker momentarily with panic, before Bethanie jumps in to save him. ”Spurgeon is just being mean,” Bethanie quickly said. ”The three of us are perfectly presentable and are ready to attend the Soiree.” Esmond nods his head in relief and puts the candleholder back where it was.

The three of them hadn't even begun chatting for long when a loud pop was heard. There before them is an old house elf with a crooked, broken nose, and a lame leg was broken so many times that it never healed properly anymore. The wrinkled house elf named, Waller softly says, ”The Master and Mistress are expecting the children.”

”Thank you, Waller,” Bethanie said followed by the chorus of her two brothers.

The old house elf, Waller was about to apparate away, when Esmond says, ”Please wait!”

Waller winces at the words, ”Please.” Though it filled his heart with joy at hearing such words from the sweet lad, but if the master ever heard such words, his fury would be taken out on both of their hides. Even the elder brother and elder sister had been no exception and had quickly learned to hide their kindness from their parents.

”Aye, young master?” Waller asked as he turned to face the kind lad.

Esmond holds out a tiny bottle. ”It's bruise balm for you and Vilma,” Esmond proudly said. ”I made it with Spurgeon and Bethanie's help.”

Waller's eyes soften as he glances at the elder siblings, who nod their heads at him with equally warm expressions. Waller carefully takes the bottle and says, ”Waller and Waller's child, Vilma will happily use the master's precious gift. But go on now, the Master and Mistress will become impatient!”

Bethanie rises to her feet and brushes her skirts in place, Waller takes his cue to leave. ”Spurgeon, please escort me on my right, and Esmond on my left,” Bethanie instructed as she held out her hands to them to take.

The two boys quickly do as their told as each much like Bethanie put on their usual masks into place. They couldn't allow for the slightest of trace of joy nor warmth to be seen on their faces. Their parents would never allow it.