By late July, Skylar found herself exhausted in her room, staring through the window at the sunlight that could touch her skin, while she was forbidden from laying a hand on any of her plants. Yes. This summer had been the hardest one she had ever endured. She had to wait until September before she could finally be free from her punishment. “Master can finally put that brat in her place,” Someone spoke outside the door. She could guess who it was, but she wondered if he had somehow failed to notice the thin wall beside him, despite having lived in this estate for decades. Skylar walked closer to the sound of the conversation. “What happened?” One of the portraits asked. “Master grounded her. Now the house is at peace, but Baxter is still working hard. He has to feed that brat who has lost her appetite. Baxter has to redo the meal again.” Skylar heard every word clearly. She pushed the door open and fixed her eyes on him. “I didn’t lose my appetite!” she snapped. The house-elf startled, lowering his head. He stopped whatever he had been cleaning and turned his back to her.
Skylar had never wanted him to redo his meals for her. She had never ordered him to do anything for her. Not even the smallest things. But when he put it that way, she began to doubt herself. What actual instructions had he received from her parents? Besides calling her a brat behind her back, what had they told him to do that made him treat her like this?
That afternoon, Skylar came down the stairs and saw him again, preparing the table. She stared at him in silence. He did not even dare to look back at her. “Why do you hate me?” There was no one else at the table. Surely, she was talking to him. “Baxter can’t hate Miss Skylar. Baxter can’t hate Master.” Skylar crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks. She did not believe him one bit. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll curse you. Don’t underestimate me.” She raised her wand. Of course, it was only a threat. She would never actually do it. Baxter looked into her sharp eyes before placing the tray in his hands down on the table. Then he slowly knelt before her, clearly frightened. “Please don’t hurt Baxter. Baxter will tell everything.”
Skylar lowered her wand, pretending to look satisfied. “So… why do you hate me?” Baxter stiffened again before answering in a shaky voice. “Baxter is scared of Miss Skylar. Master said the girl has a twisted mind and might accidentally kill Baxter someday. So Baxter had to spoil her.” Skylar froze. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. For a moment, she could not find the words to describe what she was feeling. There was a painful tightness in her chest, as though someone had struck her from behind and left her unable to breathe properly.
“I…I’m sorry, Baxter.” Her voice came out smaller than she intended. “You can clear the table. I have to go.” She quickly turned and ran upstairs, heading straight for her room. Skylar cried throughout the afternoon, alone in her room, occasionally burying her face in her cushion as she tried to make sense of it. It felt as though her whole world had fallen apart. Someone she had considered part of her family had been told to think of her as a threat. For the first time, Skylar realised that all those little things Baxter had done for her, the meals, the drinks, the little acts of care she had never even asked for, might never have been because he wanted to. He had only been following orders.
And all because of one mistake she had made when she was five. One question. She had once asked whether her anger could kill Baxter. That was all. One careless question from a young girl who had been too clueless to understand how frightening her words might sound. And somehow, everyone had decided that she had a twisted mind. Was that really all it took? One mistake? One moment when she had simply been a curious child who wanted to understand everything around her?
As the afternoon dragged on, her sadness slowly turned into something hotter. Something that burned. By dinner, Skylar had stopped crying. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and went downstairs to the living room, where her parents and sisters had finally returned from their vacation. Her grandparents were there too. Great. Let everyone witness her anger. “Have you heard from the Ministry yet?” Her grandmother asked as everyone found their seats. “About the Summer Camp? Yes?” Her mother replied, placing her napkin in her lap. Her grandmother nodded. “They said it started in August,” her father added.
A moment later, a grand meal appeared out of thin air. Baxter served fine wine for the adults and pumpkin juice for the younger ones. “You will be there this year, honey?” her grandmother asked, glancing at her sisters. They proudly grinned. “Yes, Grandma.” Everyone fell silent for a moment before their eyes gradually turned toward Skylar. “Is she going too?” her grandmother asked her mother. “Yes, Mother. She’ll definitely be there.” Her grandmother nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Do keep an eye on this one, will you? Before that woman comes back and stuffs her head with another assortment of absurd ideas. Who knows what sort of little monstrosity she’ll turn her into next?” Skylar immediately frowned. The woman she meant was obviously her aunt. She was beginning to grow tired of how they always spoke badly about her whenever she wasn’t there. If they wanted some heat, then they could have it.
Skylar deliberately adopted a sarcastic tone. “What, the first one she turned?” She arched a brow, pretending to be clueless. “My uncle?” Her mother immediately placed her knife and spoon down, looking upset. “Language!” Everyone stopped chewing and looked at the girl. Skylar continued cutting her steak, her expression careless. “Just asking. You all seem to shut down every time someone mentions Uncle Charles. So, what about him? The Ministry already gave Aunt Amelia a free pass, meaning she was innocent, so why do you all still blame her?” Her father spoke to her for the first time after keeping his distance from her for so many years. “Don’t assume things you don’t understand, and don’t talk while you’re eating. You are a lady. Act like one.”
Her grandfather looked at her and added, “No one in this family has ever behaved this way. For generations, our family has carried the Hufflepuff bloodline and the values that come with it. Not one of us has ever strayed so far from them.” Her father looked concerned, his eyes avoiding the old man’s. “I’m sorry, Father. She was sorted into Slytherin, so Azalea and Hailey didn’t have much time to teach her properly while she was at Hogwarts.” Her sisters lowered their eyes, pretending to look guilty along with their father. Her grandmother let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I told you, Charlie, to cut that woman out of the Astor family long ago. It seems too late to fix the girl now. She’s already twisted to the very core.” That word again. Her mother looked at her grandmother in fear. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll fix her. I’ve already grounded her, and she’s been good for some time. She’ll be better soon.”
Skylar fumed. It was getting worse and worse as she listened to them. They treated her as though she were sick. The words ‘fix’ and ‘twisted’ kept repeating in her head, over and over, “STOP! JUST STOP TALKING!” She snapped. The lights above the table began to flicker for a few seconds, while the chandelier swayed ominously overhead. Everyone looked up in concern, stopping whatever they were doing. CRACK! The chandelier finally came crashing down onto the table, scattering food and dishes everywhere. The family ducked for cover beneath the table while Skylar remained standing perfectly still.
For several seconds, no one spoke. Skylar stared at the wreckage around her, her wand still in her hand. She could not even remember raising it. Baxter hurried into the room, staring at the shattered table in horror. “Miss Skylar…” She could not bear to hear anything else. “I…I’m sorry.” She began to calm down, then turned and ran upstairs, desperate to escape the embarrassment and perhaps remain there until the Summer finally ended. |
