Skylar hated wearing the black suit, designed off of muggle clothing yet incorporated into classic wizarding clothing. It was soft and smooth, woven with cooling charms since Skylar wore it every year. At least, every year for the past four years.
The fabric was imbued with the scent of lavender and the barely there trace of poppy. Skylar never knew that poppy had a smell but now it was overwhelming.
Skylar exhaled through his nose slowly, peering at his reflection in the mirror quietly. He watched numbly as his reflection moved to button up the highest button on his shirt, leaving him composed and clean.
He walked out of his room, slowly moving down the stairs towards the front sitting room where he knew his mother would be fussing over a perfect bouquet of flowers. Icelandic poppies, thin tissue paper petals in almost every color Skylar could imagine.
"Oh," his mother exhaled while her mouth twisted into a teary eyed smile, "are you ready to go?"
Skylar nodded slightly, tugging on the worn cuffs on each sleeve.
"Your father sent word earlier, he and Sirius are just about done over there."
Skylar already knew this, but he nodded quietly as the two walked out of their safeguarded house and past the elaborate wards to the Apparation zone. They vanished in a sharp twist that was nothing for Skylar after Quidditch and years of experience.
The summer sky was unusually cold, cool and chilled from a recent rain. The ground squished slightly from under his polished shoes. He had the urge to take them off and take off the grey socks and press his toes through the muck.
Crickets and other invests chirped loudly, adding to the lively buzz of a summer field. The sky above was suspiciously clear of clouds, most likely spelled.
It didn't remove the stifling humidity, already Skylar felt sweat gather at the back of his neck. Somewhere over the grass, a red winged blackbird swooped low over the growing corn.
"This way, on the far side of the house." Lily Potter gently nudged her son forward. Skylar began trudging forward, not noticing anything else around them.
There was gentle music, heard before the many chairs and tables came into sight. On the highest rise of the lawn, a half circle of people stood under the sun in uncomfortable clothing all in shades of black.
"Lily!" Someone cried, stumbling down the slight hill to trudge in mud to her side. Mrs. Weasley's face was blotchy and red, eyes bloodshot and filled with misery.
"Molly," Skylar's mother soothed, taking the plump woman into her arms and clinging to her tightly, "I am so sorry."
Molly pulled away, trying to smile and laugh dismissively although it sounded choked and painful.
Two more people slid away from the congregation, sliding down to flank Skylar's sides.
"Hey, come with us, mate." One of the twins urged, giving him a gentle pat on the back. The other looped one arm through his arm and gently tugged him along.
It was surreal, to witness something so quiet and unsettling in broad daylight. Skylar had long since grown used to the sound of his mother crying behind closed doors. To see it in the open was something unreal.
Everything he was seeing was unreal.
The twins led him out of the thickest of people over towards the back steps of the crooked house itself. Over there in the shade, the mugginess was less stifling.
"You want to stay out of that mess, mate." One of them advised, the other plopped down to his other side on the steps, "it's just a bunch of crying. Figured you've had enough of that."
Skylar did, he had enough of that for a lifetime.
"Where's Ron?" Skylar asked, his voice sounding hoarse and croaky even in his own ears.
Fred, Skylar decided, paused and then exhaled heavily, "He's been up in his room. Hasn't come down for days since we started getting the details down."
"Blew a right fit at mum the other day, when she tried to drag him out." George shrugged, the two tricksters looking relatively normal with how depressing the entire situation was.
There was a loud snap in the air as another person arrived to the event, wading from the furthest edge of the field. The headmaster, Skylar could spot him out in a crowd of a thousand people. The aged wizard removed his hat slowly, clutching it to his chest as he bowed his head toward the many murmuring people.
"Surprised he showed up," George noted, seeing the headmaster's arrival.
"Reckon he's been blaming himself over it all." Fred ended with a small click of his tongue.
"Well, he should be." A sour voice growled out from behind the three, accompanied with the rattling noise of the screen door banging shut.
"The troll emerges from his hibernation," Fred bitterly trilled out, George lifting his hands to mimic large floppy ears.
Ron flushed angrily, the red moving all the way past his cheeks to touch his forehead for a surprise.
"How are you two laughing!" He shrieked, voice cracking and instantly killing the mood.
Skylar felt a lump form in his throat as his jaw dropped, he was speechless.
"How can you just...just…" Ron struggled for a word, his lips twisting into a grimace and tears leaked from his eyes, "How can you act like you don't care!"
"Don't you say that," Fred hissed back angrily, George hurrying over to grab his upper arm as a precaution, "Don't you dare say that."
"Well you're laughing and making jokes and and…" Ron's hands flailed, "and acting like Merlin knows-"
"Maybe some of us are trying to help out around here instead of pouting and throwing a fit in their room!" Fred spat out, nearly prickling in his anger, "Great job making mum even sadder, Ronnikins."
Ron looked like he was going to pull his wand and start cursing the twins.
"Stop this," Skylar leapt to his feet, his heart pounding like a hummingbird.
"You!" Ron shouted now directing his anger at Skylar, "Why didn't...why didn't you do something?"
Fred and George leapt forward, "Come on now, Sky here's not guilty of anything."
"He's the Chosen One!" Ron screamed, his voice louder than ever before. "He should have saved my sister!"
The steady murmurs of the group over on the hill trailed off painfully quiet. Skylar was all too aware of the many eyes locked on his body. The black formal clothes felt tighter, like he was being constricted.
"Ron, I…" Skylar trailed off as he felt the itchiness of tears nearly overwhelm him. His throat hurt and his hands were shaking at his side.
"Ignore him, mate," Fred advised sourly, glaring angrily at Ron.
Ron was right, Skylar should have saved her.
"No, he's right." Skylar was whispering, not noticing the other adults start to draw closer and prevent the imminent fight, "I... I should have done something."
"Yeah you should have," Ron hissed out angrily, tears cascading down his blotchy face although he didn't wipe them away, "You killed her!"
Skylar flinched as if he had been struck.
"Ron!" Someone older belted out, brushing past Skylar and the twins with an expression of fury. "This is not the time."
The older Weasley, Charlie, Skylar recognized from the age and slightly puckered burn scar on his neck, grabbed Ron's upper arm and started to drag him back inside the house.
"You killed her!" Ron screamed, thrashing in Charlie's grip as he glared and sobs shook his small body, "You killed her!"
Skylar felt someone rotate him by his shoulder and without looking he sobbed into the chest of whoever it was. He felt another body at his back, successfully muffling the noise of Ron's shrieking and isolating him from the outside.
"Is everything okay over here?" Mr. Weasley spoke, placing one hand on each of the twins. From the securing circle the two boys made, Skylar's sobs could faintly be heard.
"Fine," George clipped out, glaring at the general vicinity of where Charlie had dragged Ron inside, "We're gonna take little Sky out back to calm down a bit."
James Potter arrived, running lightly over the lawn with a flushed worried expression. The murmurs from the direction of the tables began rising once again, filling the air with the sound of chatter.
"Everything alright?" James asked concerned, looking inside the protective dome with paternal instincts.
"Sounds like Ron had a bit of an outburst, James." Mr. Weasley sighed, running both hands into his tired eyes, "The boys are going to take him around back, maybe to look at the chickens."
James gave a slight nod and looked at the two twins with a sorrowful look.
"Head up, boys," He smiled grimly, ruffling their hair with a small exhale, "It gets better."
The two adults walked off, ignoring the disgusting squelching of grass and mud. The twins held Skylar close, watching the house and windows for movement before they retracted their arks carefully.
"Sky? Mate?" The one asked, peering at the blubbering twelve year old cautiously, "We're going to head around back for a bit, look at some chickens and imagine they're Ron."
Skylar smiled slightly against his will and he nodded slightly into whoever's shirt he had essentially soiled. He let it go, wiping his face and nose quickly to dispel the disgusting amounts of snot.
Each twin took a hand, and between the two they swung his arms ridiculously in such a way Skylar found himself smiling despite the gloom. They made their way carefully around the house, approaching the coop where several hens clucked curiously.
Skylar instantly went to the hutch, opening the hatches to peer at the startled birds who observed him with nervous glances.
Fred poked around, scaring the bird away as he retrieved an egg. It was light brown, speckled slightly around the top.
With no grace or hesitation, he smacked it over George's head. The latter spluttered, reaching upwards to investigate the yellow yolk which dripped down his nose.
Skylar laughed, an ugly gasping noise but it was a laugh nonetheless.
George sniffed and reached into the opened latch, grabbing a bird and throwing it right at Fred who fell backwards at the flailing hen.
Skylar laughed again, this time the sound was almost peals of laughter bordering on hysteria.
The twins looked at each other in relief, before flopping onto the ground. Thankfully, nearest the coop the ground was still dry, if only a bit dusty.
Skylar settled down near them, playing with strands of grass through the holes in the wire. The hens approached curiously, pecking at small ants or at the strands of grass Skylar poked through.
"He's right," Skylar spoke, voice quiet in the silence of the summer sky, "that I killed her."
Fred glanced at George quickly, "No, mate that isn't your fault."
"Yeah, even Dumbledore tried looking for the Chamber. It's been gone for centuries, you couldn't have found it."
"No, not that." Skylar felt something bubble inside his chest, under his ribs and above his heart, "I- I've killed people."
"No you haven't." The two boys spoke at once, synchronizing accidently yet still sounding firm.
"I have!" Skylar protested, voice warbling into a shriek as tears cascaded down his face. The relative calm he had crafted shattered brokenly with his words.
"No, no mate." Fred argued sternly, grasping the smaller boy and holding him close with one arm.
"You did your best, and you were a good friend." George added with only a little wavering of his own voice, "Gin really liked you."
Skylar shook his head, the tears and his movement distorted his vision as words bubbled from his lips and everything he had kept so private was unraveling under his fingertips. "No no no…"
George glanced at Fred with barely disguised fear and frantic desperation.
"I killed her," Skylar sobbed, hands rising to clutch his hair between shaking palms, "I've killed her and...And I didn't mean to and now she's dead."
Fred patted Skylar unsure, buckling as the younger boy twisted and collapsed heavily against him. The chickens clucked unconcerned and pecked at the dropped strand of grass.
"You couldn't have done anything," Fred shushed, speaking lowly even as his body soon shook gently in his own grief, "you couldn't have done anything and Merlin knows everyone tried."
Skylar braced his head in Fred's chest and screamed.
George didn't say anything but looked very much that he wanted to join in.
"I'm so sorry," Skylar bawled, voice barely comprehendible, "I...I didn't mean to."
Fred rubbed his back in a way he hoped was soothing, looking blankly at the feathered birds.
Skylar pulled back aggressively, jolting upright as he furiously rubbed at his face, "It's not fair, people die for me and it's not fair."
"Sky…" George started, only to be cut off with Skylar's watery eyed glare.
"No! First...first Harry and now Ginny and…" Skylar shook his head, hunkering his shoulders as his hands pressed harshly into his eyes.
"Harry?" Fred tentatively asked, not familiar with anyone who Skylar knew and was familiar with to be on a nickname with.
Skylar sobbed openly, "and...and we never found his body either."
"Who's Harry?" Fred asked gently, recognizing that somehow this other name was tied in to Skylar's deteriorated state.
The boy in question peered up at both of them, face skewed and pinched in an expression of pain as he bubbled out between shaking lips, "He...he was my brother."
The twins froze in fascination, confusion, and mutual grief.
"He…" Skylar shook, struggling to think through the hazy fog of mourning, "It wasn't safe, and...and we sent him to be w-with my cousins…"
Fred and George felt a chill down their arms; the unsettling knowledge that they shouldn't be listening to this.
"We only left him for a couple years, because there were wizards after us," Skylar sniffled, steadily growing calmer the longer he talked. The more the words spilled out the faster Skylar's voice broke the air; the more horrified the twins listened.
"And, and we went back, and my cousins were gone. Just…" Skylar lifted one shaking hand, shaped in a fist. He opened it suddenly, revealing nothing and exhaling quietly, "Poof."
"Sky…" Fred started, rubbing Skylar's shoulders unsure. Skylar shook his head determined, his tremors lessening as he stared at the chickens almost angrily.
"No, no I...I need to talk." Skylar argued intently, "I...we looked for him. For months, and...and one of Dumbledore's friends found my cousin's family outside Glasgow."
Skylar sniffed quietly and a small breeze ruffled through the humid air.
"I...they didn't say, but I overheard when they thought I was sleeping. They said that Bellatrix Lestrange got to them." Skylar whispered quietly, blinking rapidly against his will, "Mum went bonkers."
"Bellatrix, that bitch will get what's coming to her." George spat out, eyes narrowing in fury towards the idea of the witch, "Azkaban's too nice for her."
Skylar nodded slightly, faintly smiling as if the idea amused him, "Dad's been working since, trying to get her off the streets. He can finally breathe now that they got her."
Fred swallowed and looked across the fields, the swaying of the corn and the bright glare of the sun. "I'm sorry about your brother."
"I'm sorry about your sister." Skylar countered sharply.
Fred shrugged, rolling one shoulder as if disinterested although Skylar knew better.
"I hope she burns," Skylar whispered quietly, "does that make me a bad person?"
"Of course not," George assured him quietly, "It makes you human."
Skylar smiled slightly, not truly seeing as he was trapped in memory.
"I miss him sometimes," Skylar admitted brokenly.
"You should, I bet he was just as reckless as you." Fred teased only halfheartedly.
"No, he liked animals. Would have been a bloody good magizoologist."
"Ginny liked those horses, the winged ones." George admitted quietly.
"Harry would have known every breed, he'd give Newt Scamander a run for his money." Skylar laughed brokenly, smiling as if the idea was perfect, "and he would have had a kneezle, or some rare owl I'd never heard of but he'd pester Dad all about it. And he'd have it flown in from somewhere, like Egypt."
"Egypt has owls?" George asked curiously, smiling faintly as Skylar rolled his eyes.
"What about his classes?" Fred asked quietly, egging Skylar on.
"Oh, he'd be brilliant at Care," Skylar continued, tears lessening as a true smile spread over his face, "he'd be quizzing and asking Hagrid about everything. He was always shy but he always tried to drag Mooney to those ah, traveling creature tours."
"I heard from Charlie about the dragon your first year," George teased with a grin, "I bet he'd have been in on that."
Skylar laughed, a bright peal of laughter that seemed to echo, "Oh Merlin's Beard, he'd be camping out in the hut all night waiting for Norbert to hatch! He never liked Quidditch but he'd be there, at every game in the stands cheering me on." Skylar's smile began to turn wistful, "He should be in the stands."
"Yeah," Fred sighed sourly.
"They both should be."