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Murphy sat with Bill in silence for the better part of that evening, listening to birds chirp and sing all around them.
The silence encased the two of them in a comforting embrace, one that was only broken when Murphy's stomach suddenly rumbled quite loudly.
Bills legs had started to cramp up long ago but he wasn't complaining, as long as Murphy was content just sitting in his presence.
Murphy turned to Billy wearily, "Do you think we could stay here for a while longer?"
Bill pursed his lips together for moment, thoughtfully, before nodding. "How about we go check out the pond?"
Murphy mirrored his expression before nodding just as he had, "okay."
It didn't take long for the pair to make their way to the edge of a huge open pond. Murphy had never seen a body of water so big, the most water she'd ever seen was the tub in the Weasleys home filled to the top.
Bill knelt down, squinting closely.
"What are you looking for?" Murphy asked curiously, crouching beside him instantly, squinting to try and find whatever had Bill looking so intently. Suddenly a large grin graced Bills face as he turned to her, similar to the first time he'd told her magic was real, he leaned in close as if he was about to tell her the worlds juiciest secret.
And to a small girl with big dreams, it might as well have been.
"I'm looking for gems," Bill nodded towards the pond. "Who knows, maybe we'll see a mermaid while we're at it."
Murphy's eyes bulged from her head, similar to how Ron's had after revealing she in fact hadn't a clue how to play Hide and Seek. Now, Murphy knew it was something she was in fact well versed in.
The small girls head whipped back to the water, squinting closely to see beyond the murky surface. Suddenly, she let out a small breath as she shoulders sunk, lips pursed, the girls head bobbed from side to side causing her golden locks to bounce around her, "Mermaids aren't real." Once again, she stated this with the upmost confidence, knowingly.
"Neither is magic," Bill shrugged simply.
Murphy tilted her head in thought. "Alright, why haven't I seen one before?"
Bill scoffed at the mere idea, as if that would have been the most ridiculous thing to have happened in the last 24 hours. "The same reason you've never seen magic before. People are scared of things that they can't understand you know. Makes them lash out and do mean things."
Nodding, Murphy took in his words as truth. "Like how my daddy lashes out at me?"
The boys lips pressed into a thin line as his suspicions were confirmed. Bill didn't want Murphy to worry about that happening here, knew that as long as he was with her, she'd never have to face those same traumas again.
"Mermaids aren't all they seem," he started. Changing the subject, successfully pulling her mind away from her inner torment. "They aren't beautiful creatures like the ones in muggle stories. If you encounter a mermaid, you shouldn't get too close. They'll drag you down to the depths."
Murphy's eyes grew wide as she took a step back, Bill chuckled lightly as she wrapped a hand tightly around his sleeve. "Don't worry, Murphy. As long as I'm here, nothing can hurt you."
The girl nodded slowly with a frown, still unsure if what he said could have been completely true.
Suddenly, Murphy's belly made an awful sound. One that demanded to be fed, and although she wasn't quite ready to face the music, she could no longer deny the hunger that had grown.
Murphy turned to Bill sheepishly, although he hadn't even made an indication that he'd heard the terrible noise her stomach was making, she was certain he had. "You think we could head back?" Murphy asked barely above a whisper.
Smiling warmly, Bill looked down at Murphy. "Of course we can, mums probably made dinner already, perhaps if we hurry we won't be too late."
Murphy and Bill set across the field, the nearer they got, the more nervous she become.
Dread flooded the girl as they stepped through the door and into the household. Embarrassment washed over her at her earlier reaction, picking at her fingers, she was scared of how the rest of the Weasleys would react.
They'd have every right to be mad at her, Fred especially, since she'd ruined all their fun.
Tears pricked her eyes at the prospect of them sending her back to her father for what she'd done. She wondered what her punishment would be.
Was Arthur’s punishments perhaps harsher than that of her fathers? Or would it have been Molly to deliver the punishment?
She'd never had a mother before, so she hadn't a clue how one punished a child who'd been upmost disrespectful, to her own child at that.
Murphy moved with shaky steps nearer the kitchen where the table was already set. In that moment she'd wanted to run and hide, hide until she was certain it was safe enough to come out.
But she'd learned from experience, hiding away only made the punishment worse.
So, she settled for pushing herself behind Bill in a way that she hoped would lessen her punishment. Bill had promised to protect her, but did she really believe what he'd said was true?
After all, even she could agree she'd deserved the punishment.
Mollys head peaked around the corner from the kitchen at the sound of the front door opening.
Smiling sweetly she was greeted with her eldest child and a quite nervous looking Murphy as they walked into the kitchen.
Although Murphy had only been in the Weasleys household for less than a day, the deathly pale shine of Murphy's skin already seemed to brighten as the color that was once absent now made it's presence known.
The small girl was still skinny, much to skinny for the worrisome mothers liking, somehow a few solid meals brung life back into the girls eyes.
The plump woman wasn't sure how long the poor girl had gone without a meal before she met the Weasleys but despite her age, which Molly had guessed to be slightly younger than Ginny based of her size alone, she was still quite small.
"Just in time for dinner," Molly smiled at the pair. "How about you go and wash up? Bill come help me for a moment."
The next few days passed for Murphy in some sort of blurry haze. The girl was flooded with anxious feelings, jumping at the noises of the loud family, all of which she wasn't used to.
Loud noises at her home only meant trouble.
Spending the last few days with the Weasleys confused her, their dynamic was strange to the smaller girl.
After the incident had taken place a few days ago, Murphy had been convinced she would have been punished. But that night at dinner Fred had been the one to apologize profusely, before he and his brother cracked jokes, trying to make her smile.
This confused Murphy more than anything, she waited and waited but the punishment never came.
At first she thought it was trick, one her father had pulled many times where she would have done something wrong but he'd smile even offer her a cookie, stroke her head and right when she thought he'd forgotten- even let it slide, his smile would turn into a sneer and the comforting touch would be exchanged with a fist.
It'd taken her a few days to realize that perhaps she wasn't going to get punished. Although, the voice in the back of her head every time one of them moved too quickly never quite fade, causing her to flinch back in anticipation.
Murphy was even more surprised when Molly come into her room every night when she'd be getting into bed, just to tuck her in with a gentle kiss to the forehead and short story, bedtime story, as she'd called it.
She couldn't remember a time her father ever sent her to bed so softly, with a promise of a better day tomorrow and a wish her to dream about fairy's, princess and magical kingdoms.
Despite Mollys efforts and sweet hugs, terror awaited Murphy every time that door shut, every time Molly blew out that candle. Every time she closed her eyes, she was plagued by nightmares.
The last few days spent with the Weasleys was more than Murphy could have ever dreamed for. As good as it was, Murphy's nerves were completely fried.
She spent most of her day, petrified that one day she'd fall asleep in the warm, comforting bed she'd slept in the last few nights, and wake up on the cold hard floor in her fathers home.
Or maybe, her father would suddenly appear out of thin air and punish her for being away for so long.
Another example of how this bizarre family reacted was when Ginny and Ron were playing in the kitchen, Molly had told them multiple times to stop running, but atlas, Ginny had knocked into the table causing one of Mollys favorite serving bowls to tumble to the floor and shatter.
Murphy had flinched back in anticipation, certain that this, if nothing that Murphy had done so far, would have earned her a punishment.
Shaking hard, Murphy willed herself to peak as she heard Ginny's wailing only to realize that Molly had rushed forward to embrace her child.
Molly took Ginny's foot into her hand, it's alright Ginny, she had said. Quickly pulling her wand out and uttering a few words before the wound closed up and Ginny stopped crying, I told you lot to stop running in the kitchen, didn't I?
Murphy learned that that was the extent to Mollys punishment, a simple scolding set them straight. Or so Molly had grumbled to herself as she swept up the mess of broken shards of glass.
Waking up that morning felt like any other morning Murphy had had at the Weasleys. The only difference was once she'd walked down the stairs, she was greeted with an old man, full of white hair.
Murphy wasn't sure why, but she'd turned and fled right up the stairs. As quickly as she'd come, she left.
Molly scolded herself for not warning the girl with a fragile set of mind. The girl seemed absolutely terrified more often than not.
Dumbledore hadn't been in the Weasley home for more than a couple of minutes when Murphy made her way into the living room. Dumbledore greeted the girl with a simple hello with, what he considered to be, a disarming smile.
"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said as her watched the girl disappear straight up the stairs. "It seems I've frightened her."
Molly shook her head apologetically, "no, no. It's not your fault, I should have warned her. She seems very weary of strangers."
It took a few minutes before Molly had coaxed the girl into coming down the stairs once again.
In the living room sat the old man who was sat on a comfortable chair beside the fireplace, who had been the small girls first cause of alarm that day, Arthur who smiled brightly, and Bill who sat comfortable across from the man Molly had called Dumbledore, on the loveseat.
Murphy sat delicately beside Bill, who was smiling reassuringly at the girl.
"Hmm, how peculiar. It's not every day a young witch uses apparition to show up in a place no one's heard of her." The old man speaks slowly, "I've sent word to a dear friend from the ministry who's going to take a further look into finding her family, he's been kind enough to do so discreetly, although as far as I can tell no one's filed a report of a missing child. Although if what you said in your letter were true, I wouldn't have expected as much."
The whole of the Weasley family seemed to be at the edge of their seats, listening intently to every word this man said, seemingly, clinging to them.
"In the mean time, I've arranged for passage and stay at an orphanage for young witches and wizards while we wait for further news. Unfortunately that discretion with run short within a few days, the ministry must be made aware of the situation and from then it will be out of my hands."
"Wait a minute," Molly spoke up, "maybe it would be best is she were to stay here while waiting for her parents."
Arthur looked at Molly taken aback, "Molly, dear- maybe we should discuss this first?"
Molly turned to Arthur, her face set in something Murphy didn't fully understand with her brows furrowed in determination. "You can't seriously except to send her to a strange place, especially after the way she reacted with our family- not after-"
"Maybe it's best I excuse myself into the kitchen while you discuss this amongst yourselves, Murphy, would you care to join me?" Dumbledore stood slowly sensing something Murphy hadn't.
Murphy curled in on herself as she avoided the strange man's eyes, subconsciously inching herself close to Bill who had instantly noticed Murphy's discomfort. "How about I join you?" Bill asked finally, holding out a hand as an invitation, letting this be her choice, giving her the option to decline.
Slightly more confident, Murphy placed her hand almost skittishly in his big open palm and he pulled the girl to her feet gently and guided her to the kitchen.
The trust she placed in Bill hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone in the room, and as Dumbledore watched the pair disappear, some very interesting cogs in his head began to turn.
Dumbledore glanced at Molly and he could tell that she too was thinking of something quite similar.
Hush whispers were heard in the living room for, what felt like, to Murphy, an eternity, while Bill and the old man sat chatting idly.
It was much longer before Molly and Arthur came back into the room, Molly looked almost apologetic as she stood in front of the eagerly awaiting trio.
Bill stared at his parents accusingly, as Dumbledore nodded his head sadly at whatever the pair had concluded.
Murphy was sure she was missing something, but she'd thought she wasn't smart enough to figure it out.
Murphy squeezed Bill's hand that she still had clutched in her own, letting her insecurities of naivety shine through the very open gaps in her small little heart.
"We think it to be best if Murphy went with you," Molly sighed sadly. "It'll only be for a little while, just until things get sorted out."
Arthur wanted to inject, to point out that he shouldn't give the girl false hope of it being just a short stay when she could end up spending a good portion of her childhood in that orphanage.
Although it was quite the opposite, in Murphy's mind she felt as if she'd been abruptly plucked out of the Weasleys family home. The little girl had thought to cry as Dumbledore gently pulled her from Bill's grasp, she had thought to turn and scream and clutch onto Bill, but as he allowed his hand to slip from hers, only one thing come to mind.
It was a memory of when she was a little younger than now when her father had come home with a strangely wide smile, one that had Murphy backing away hesitantly once it landed on her.
She remembers the way he almost skipped to her with a box in hand, promising her good things as he opened it wide enough for her to peak in. Sensing her hesitation he laughed oddly and reached in, plucking out a baked good and handing it to her.
Murphy had never eaten something so delicious once she had finally dared to actually nip the corner. It wasn't until she cracked a smile up at the man in thanks did she notice the joyful smile had turned into a sneer, and she felt as if everything happened all too slow.
The man's hand come swinging down barely missing her nose as it smacked the squared cookie straight from her hands.
If Murphy had a better vocabulary to describe being coaxed into a false sense of comfort and safety, she would have known that what she felt that day was a great betrayal.
The same way she felt as she looked into Bill's eyes that day.
The place Murphy sat now was strange. She couldn't have been there for more than a few days but she'd already grown to hate it.
Days went by when strange men and women come through and tried to talk to her. Murphy could do nothing but curl in on herself before they'd finally bore and walk away where she'd hear her caregiver whispering quietly to them from behind a half-closed door.
Murphy had resorted to locking herself away in this old broom closet during the day to get away from the strange people and even stranger kids who snickered as they passed her with glances that reminded her of her father.
Nights were worse, those are when the nightmare plagued her sleep. Not nightmares but memories, Murphy had to remind herself.
Awful memories that had her waking up mid-panic, drenched in sweat.
Scared that any second her father would show up again, or perhaps the old man who'd brought her to the orphanage would come back to send her away to live with her father once more.
Murphy was doing what had become routine these last couple of days, she sat in an old broom closet unwilling to come out for anyone or anything, when unknowingly a familiar old man come to investigate several letters of concerned adults who were in charge of Murphy's wellbeing in the meantime.
"She hasn't eaten in four days, she's locked herself in this old broom closet since Thursday and hardly comes out." The caregiver spoke with grave concern, "Of course, we can unlock the door with our wands but we've been advised by our lead psychologist that doing so could cause more harm than good. We've tried to ease her out but she hasn't spoken a word, not to us, nor to the other children, as far as I'm aware."
Dumbledore hummed as he stared thoughtfully at the door where the small girl was locked behind, away from the world she deemed unsafe, as the woman continued to speak, "She was very reserved when you first brought her here, we've tried everything, if she continues down this path her health will continue to decline. We've had a doctor examine her, and we fear any more meals rejected could be fatal."
It hadn't taken long to convince the Weasley family of the situation involving Murphy to have both Molly and Arthur flooing their way to the orphanage, along with one other very important Weasley.
One that Dumbledore was sure could get through to Murphy.
The Weasleys hadn't expected to hear back from the young frightened girl that had left their home only a week prior so soon. Although Molly couldn't say she was surprised when she got an urgent letter from Dumbledore, it had come as a shock to Arthur.
Molly had spent the better part of the week while Murphy was away worrying about her and she knew she wasn't the only one.
Arthur, though still firm in his choice, would have been lying if he said that he too hadn't thought of the girl a few times a day since she'd left.
Bill hadn't spoken to his parents much since she'd been gone and when he did it was cryptically curt.
The rest of the Weasley family wasn't too happy about the news when they'd gotten only a few moments to say goodbye. Ginny who'd slept through her leaving entirely, cried how she hadn't gotten a proper goodbye.
Murphy sat in the old broom closet, in the same corner she always had with the same book in hand, flipping through page after page and looking at the pictures. Running her small fingers across the little letters sprawled across the page wondering what they said.
The small girl had a thought so fleeting she questioned if it was ever truly there, I wish Bill could read this to me.
It was only moments later that a soft knocking sounded at the door. Murphy paused abruptly, holding her breath in anticipation.
It wasn’t often that anyone knocked on the door, but when they did, it almost always resulted in a long and, in Murphy’s opinion, uncomfortable conversation consisting of the person on the other side trying to talk Murphy into coming out.
Murphy’s belly growled at the sound of the voice that come next, as if subconsciously she’d associated this particular person with a belly full of hot delicious food. “Murphy, dear,” they called. “It’s Molly sweet heart.”
The small girls ears felt numb, as if she hadn’t quite heard correctly, like she was only imagining the voice breaking that unbearable silence that had set in and become her normal.
The kind of silence she was only used to before knowing the Weasleys and their busy life’s.
She twitched, her body moving to stand where as her had mind froze.
Murphy wanted to open that door, the same way she wanted to close it after her father had punished her, but she was to shocked to move.
“Murphy, sweetie? Would you like to come out?” Molly tried again. “We’ve come to take you back home- to The Burrow.”
Home, was the only thing Murphy could think. Dizzy, was the only thing Murphy felt.
How long would it be until they’d decided to send her away again, and maybe next time it would be back to her father.
There was a long pause, a silence so deafening as Murphy held her breath, almost convincing herself they’d gone away completely.
Then there it was, the voice she’d longed for so long to hear again, the voice she’d thought about in her loneliest hours wishing- hoping beyond hope that she’d hear again.
The voice of the person she’d waited days on days to hear again.
“Murphy?” It called, “would you like to see a magic trick?”
Bill Weasley.