Grubson walked home from work, his legs dragging heavily as rain drops pounded on his fatigued, sore body.  It was a terrible day.  The worst day.  St. Mungo's had a series of emergencies, all more stressful than the next.  And the stress, along with his problem with his boss, felt like it had been nearly enough to put him in the grave.  In fact, he still wasn't sure he would make it through the day in one piece.  Grubson's head hung low as dark thoughts flooding over him like a tidal wave. 

What would his wife say when she found out? he thought dismally.  He had lost his job.  After all his hard work, all his sacrifices, all the crap he took throughout the years... Today, Grubson Windell had been fired.  Him!  The one employee that never complained no matter how much work his boss would throw his way, no matter how many patients a day were piled onto him, no matter how much overtime he did a week.  He had been exploited to the max and it was all for nothing.  Grubson Windell was out of a job today.

At noon that day, his boss had yelled at him regarding an error that he wasn't even responsible for.  Despite all attempts to calmly explain the situations, the jerk wouldn't listen.  Usually, Grubson would have taken it with his usual smile and cowardly submissiveness.  But who knows what came over him?  Had he been possessed?  In a fury of anger, in the middle of his boss' yelling and threats, Grubson pointed his wand at him, telling him to shut up.  Even now, an hour later, it was hard to believe.  Grubson was a peaceful guy.  A happy guy.  The guy that never got angry, that never stood up for himself, that never - ever - talked back.  Who was this person, this unfamiliar stranger who seemed to occupy his body today?

Grubson shook his head, a mad laughter escaping his chest as he replayed the scene for the hundredth time.  He was coming home early today by several hours on account of being fired.  He usually worked over time, coming home as late as ten in the evening.  His wife would wonder why.  She would ask questions.  Then the merciless yelling would ensue.  She would put him down, make him suffer, and make him sorry he had ever been born - as though his day hadn't been punishing enough.

And then he saw it.  His wife, at the street corner of their house, kissing one of their neighbours.  Grubson was frozen in place, his jaw hanging open in shock.  This had to been some kind of bad joke.  Right?  The instant he thought he had been seeing things, the man grabbed at her behind and kissed her more passionately than before.  As if suddenly infused with energy, Grubson sprinted towards her and began attacking her with a torrential rain of insults, the like of which had never before escaped Grubson's mouth.  His wife, completely unprepared for this shocking change of character, took a run for it with her lover, leaving wet, dejected Grubson alone with his fury and his sadness. 

_______

Grubson had gone straight home afterwards, locking himself in the bedroom, laying in bed with the covers pulled tight over him.  Dark thoughts threatened to throw him into madness.  He could hear his wife shuffling downstairs, preparing supper, as though this were just another normal day.  With each step of her heels, he felt his heart tighten in hate.  He could hear his son, John, and the merriness in his voice would always pull Grubson gently out of his misery, at times bringing a small smile to his lips.  But the lift in his spirits was always short lived, the darkness quickly taking over.  Cheerful, friendly Grubson was no more.   

It was around eleven thirty, after his wife had tucked John into bed, that he heard a small knock at his bedroom door.  "You can sleep on the couch tonight," Grubson yelled out bitterly, unwilling to face his wife.  The knocking grew louder, more aggressive, and something snapped in Grubson.  He jumped out of bed and grabbed at the doorknob, the door flying open. 

The moment he was face to face with his wife, a rain of insults commenced from both sides.  It took a minute for their screams to reach a caliber that would worry surrounding neighbours.  Grubson was pointing an angry, accusatory finger at his wife.  In reaction, his wife grabbed at Grubson's wrist, her long nails digging into skin, as she yelled out her fury. 

Minutes later, his wife turned his back on him, walking towards John's room to tell him to lock his door.  She hadn't never seen her husband this way and frankly, she was afraid.  She thought of briefly of apparating out of the house to call for help, but finally brushed the thought away as silly and unnecessary.  After all, this was harmless Grubson we were talking about. 

The moment after she had warned her son and John had closed back his door, locking it, Grubson grabbed his wife's arm, pulling her towards him, only to yell some more.  Enough was enough, she thought angrily.  This had gone on long enough.  She slammed her fist into his nose, blood gushing onto her knuckles and flowing onto Grubson's lips.

There was a moment of silence, where John's mother thought triumphantly that she had finally brought back some sense into her husband.  John would be able to sleep in peace and she would be able to head back downstairs and tidy up the kitchen in peace.  Oh how wrong she was! 

Madness lighting in his eyes, Grubson suddenly grabbed at her neck, tightening his grip as he fixed her with furious eyes.  “How long have you been with him?  Huh? Tell me!” he yelled, sanity completely vanishing from his pale face.  Unable to speak, his wife tried to lessen his grip, then kicked him between his legs.  Grubson fell to the floor, utterly winded.  His wife began uttering a spell and Grubson's eyes widened in astonishment and horror as he heard her pronouncing, “Crucio!”

But before the spell hit him, Grubson wipped out his wand, yelling: “Ava Kedavra!”

His wife fell to the ground, shock and horror frozen on her face during her last split seconds of life.  Her lifeless body crashed with a thundering bang and all Grubson was able to do was stare at his wand and his own hands in utter incomprehension.  Why?  Why did he do that?  “This has to be a dream...” he muttered as Grubson continued to stare at his wife's lifeless body in utter disbelief.  “This has to be a dream...”



 

   

 

Jack came home from a nice and eventful day, the first day of vacation. Everyone was really excited for the Hunter's Christmas party. Singing to a merry tune Jack came home for lunch. His mother gave him a kiss on the head and danced around like she usually does. He had a quick conversation with his mother and left with a "Love you Mom." out the door.

Then he came home for supper, something was defiantly wrong. His mother appeared to be in her happy, skippy mood but Dad was home and in his parents room. Jack asked his mother what was wrong but she smiled and answered with an "Everything fine, Dad's just having a hard time at work." He's heard this before and this kind of thing has happened before. Jack just hoped that work wouldn't dull the mood of Jack being home and the holiday spirit.

Dad never came out of the room last night,"Must have fallen asleep" was what Jack assumed. He and his mother spent the rest of the night playing games and preparing for Christmas.

Jack was so pepped up the whole night that he begged his mother to let him stay up past his bed time. Since it was the holidays, she gave in but told him that he's going to bed on time tomorrow. Around 11:30pm she had to drag Jack to his room and gave him a nice little story about what's been going on while Jacks been gone, followed by a soft lullaby.

Jack was almost ready to fall asleep when he heard yelling from down the hall. His parents didn't usually yell that much so Jack began to get worried. He didn't hear what was going on, just muffled yelling. Why were his parents fighting, this was supposed to be a time of happiness and celebration. Minutes passed by, their volume increased. Jack was almost in tears from this, they need to stop fighting.

They finally stopped after another few minutes, it was over. Jack had tears welling up in his eyes, one lone tear drop slowly falling down his right cheek. His mother came in and told him to lock the door. His eyes went wide, this defiantly isn't good. She slammed the door and continued fighting with this Dad. Jack heard some sort of physical contact and intensified yelling. Jack didn't want to listen anymore. He went over to his window and tried to open it, it was frozen shut.

Jack whimpered for a second until he heard something being said and a thud on the floor. This has gone to far. Jack desperately tried to pry open the window, nothing. He grabbed a blunt object in his room and smashed the window open. He climbed out while hearing foot steps approach his door. He climbed out with bits of glass creating small cuts in his skin.

With dots of red leaving his room and beginning to form on the new snow, Jack ran to the Hunter's, they could help.  With tattered P.J.'s and no shoes Jack began his journey. He only made it a few hundred feet before his feet began to freeze from the cold. He tore off the sleeves to his clothes and tied them to his feet for some protection. He started running, yelling as loud as he could. Unfortunately, all he could get out was garbled gibberish.

He finally made it ti the Hunter's house, some of his wounds staring to freeze as with himself freezing. He slammed the door open yelling," Daddy and Mommy are fighting!!! Someone help!" he said it a few times already seeing people in the house beginning to come to the door. Jack replied to everything with a frantic "Come on hurry!" and ran back to his house.[1]

1.	Now everyone can start posting

Lexi was up in Alice's room, talking nonsense and avoiding going to bed. This was a sleepover after all, what else could you expect from the twelve year olds? She was looking out Alice's window, the moon bright in the cloudless night sky. It was in the waxing stage, the one right before it became full and bright and beautiful.

Suddenly, there was a bright green flash from the direction of Jack's house. Lexi paled, that didn't look good. "Alice, Alice... What spells make bright green flashes when cast?" She pulled herself out of the open window to face her cousin, missing Jack who was running across their lawn at the moment.

She heard the door slam open downstairs and immediately hopped to her feet, motioning for Alice to come with her. Lexi took the stairs two at a time, almost running into Jack who looked like a complete mess. "Oh god, Jack are you alright?" She asked, hearing him babble about his parents fighting.

The young witch started putting two and two together; what could scare Jack so much that he ran here screaming for help? Why would somebody be angry enough to hex someone? Or worse... "Listen, Jack, if you're serious about this; I'll go get my Dad, he works for the police, he can help."[1]

1.	Or if you want Auror help, I've got an Auror who can respond to the scene. Unforgivable curses tend to send a blip on their radar.

Cynthia rushed down the stairs at the cry of Jack. A cry of a child was almost never heard in the Hunter home. She had seen the flash of green, and now hearing that the parents had fought, it was a recipe for disaster. Her curlers were in, and she then went right over to Jack, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay, okay, honey? Come in." The poor boy was in his pajamas. They were all tattered and ripped.

Cynthia then turned, and called up the stairs, knowing her bedroom door was open a smudge. "Franklin! Get down here. We have a visitor!" The older man walked slowly out of his room, seeing the boy in the tatter clothes. He went back into his room, grabbed a pair of old pajamas from Mark and ran down the stairs. "Take him upstairs and talk to him. there seems to have been a," She lowered her voice so just he could her her. "murder. He can sleep in the attic. Chloe's not sleeping here tonight, so there should be an open bed."

Cynthia then snagged the back of Lexi's pajamas. "Honey, go back up to Alice. Okay? No one is to leave this house for right now. I need to go handle this. This is a job for adults. You need to make sure that everyone stays in this house. Got it?"Cynthia ordered with a straight face. Cynthia was in her pajamas with her bathrobe, putting on a coat and some shoes.

"Jack, honey, go upstairs with Franklin. Everything's okay, alright." She hugged him again, feeling her eyes tear seeing the young boy being as afraid as he was. She knew that feeling of being alone. "Everything's okay." She rubbed his back. "You can wear some of Mark's old pj's. Just go to sleep." She grabbed her wand, and headed out the door.

Cynthia started to run to the boy's house, her wand illuminating her way. She came to the house, standing outside the door. She took a deep breath. What if Grubson was still in there? It didn't matter.  Unspeakable horror had happened that night. And Cynthia couldn't stop herself. She opened the door, her wand drawn and then finding Grubson over his wife's body. "You." She said, her wand pointed at the man. "Expelliarmus."

Jack didn't listen to the adults, he needed to know what happened. He took a quick shortcut and got there first. His Dad was a mess. Looking down the hall he saw his mothers body. Why wasn't she moving? Jack saw his Dad lean over her and sobbing,"Daddy what's going on? Is Mom asleep?" Then he saw that her eyes were open. Was she...dead! It instantly hit Jack.

About the same time Cynthia can through the door disarming Jack's father. Jack lost it, his mother was dead and his Dad killed her. Something in Jack's mind didn't accept that, as if this was all a dream. He ran to his Dad's wand, gave it to him, then ran to Cynthia. "Dad run!" He didn't want to loose both parents. Jack was imagining someone else killing his father.

His face turned red, he ran to his mother, crying. He began to sit next to her, feeling the warmth leave her body. By now his Dad fled the scene, leaving the child broken and scared. He didn't want anyone to comfort him. Right now, he needed to be alone. With his rage and sadness full blown he began screaming at Cynthia," Go away!!! Leave me alone!!!" he continued sobbing, arms across his dead mother.

Lexi watched Jack leave after Cynthia, and realized she did not want to go upstairs. There was no force on Earth that could make this pint-sized Gryffindor leave her friends after realizing the severity of the situation that she was in. She bolted out the door in the direction of her house, leaving footprints in the newly fallen snow behind her. She burst in the door, running past the couch where she noticed her Mom was watching television, and up to her parents room.

"Daddy!" She yelled, the storm like wave of pure emotion spilled out in one word. George sat up in bed as he noticed his daughter turning the light on. "Daddy, you have to help. Jack's parents, they're fighting. And somebody used an unforgivable curse, Dad. I saw it out Alice's window. You have to help Aunty Cyn, she ran over there by herself." Lexi pleaded, making her case.

"Okay, honey." He said, getting out of bed and throwing jeans and a jacket on. He reached into the drawer of his dresser and extracted his work issued gun, and stuck his badge on his belt. "This is unconventional, but I'll go make sure everything is okay. I want you to go back to Alice's house, alright? You'll be safe there."

Lexi nodded, following her Dad as he walked out of the house but taking the opposite route, her on the way to Alice's house and him on the way to Jack's. He loaded his pistol as he walked, clicking the safety off. George didn't think he would need it, but it was possible he might cross someone's path, a bad someone's path. From what Cait had told him of the three unforgivable curses; he realized it could either be torture, murder, or causing extreme pain and making someone obey their every word.

[1]He entered the house, clearing the first floor, just missing Mr. Windell as he ran out of the house. George walked upstairs, and into the bedroom with the door open. He saw Jack on the ground by his mother, and he holstered his gun; pushing by Cynthia who obviously didn't understand the very dangerous gravity of the situation.

He knelt down by Jack and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, another on the woman's neck, searching for a pulse. "Jack, my name is George and I work for the police." It was the best answer he could give the kid, the easiest one that would make sense to him; "I need you to trust me okay? I'm going to make sure someone takes care of your mother, if you'd like, Cynthia and I can step back for a minute and you can say goodbye to her before I alert an Auror. Does that sound okay?"

1.	This is now from George's point of view.

Cynthia watched as Jack acted on impulse. She wouldn't expect him to act any other way. He took the wand from her and gave it back to his father. He just didn't understand how dangerous his father was now. Cynthia didn't trust Grubson any longer. Not until she got the full story.

Jack was crying over his mother, and it took all of Cynthia's willpower not to cry. This poor boy had lost his mother, the one woman who would always love him, no matter what. George then came in as well, and she shot him a worried smile, her grip on her wand not loosening. It was good she had backup.

"It's going to be okay, Jack, alright? Everything's going to be okay."

Now another adult came in. Jack just wanted this to stop. He wanted to be alone with his mother. Now he couldn't even have that. He started digging into his cuts, reopening them while shouting,"Leave me alone!!!" he sprinted out the same way his father came. Right now, with everything happening so fast he was the only person Jack could talk to. Jack began to follow the foot prints. Wherever his Dad was he needed to know, he didn't want his Dad to leave him, not like this.[1] Jack's eyes went wide when he saw where the footprints were heading, towards Annette's house.

1.	Wait for Grubson to post again. There is something that he and Annette need to do

Grubson was standing still beside the immobile form of his wife, his heart beating madly in his chest.  What have I done? His hands began trembling uncontrollably and hot tears spilled forth onto his cheeks.  He thought of his son, his sweet Jack, who was now motherless because of him.  “Oh God...” he whimpered, falling onto his knees beside his wife. 

He heard a loud bang, like the sound of glass breaking, and ran into Jack's room.  Blood was splattered on the window seal and he watched as his son ran, terrified, into the snowy cold outside.  “Jack!!”  Grubson was sobbing now and inched his way on hands and knees towards his dead wife.  “I'm so sorry...” he uttered over her, tears falling onto her now cold, lifeless face.  “I never meant for this to happen...”

Just then, Grubson stood up, hearing a noise downstairs as the door creaked open.  “Hello?  Who's there?!” he yelled out, worried it was already the Aurors.  In moments, Cynthia Hunter was face to face with him and had taken his wand.  “C-Cynthia!” he uttered as more tears burst from his eyes, sobs preventing further words to come out of his mouth. 

He almost jumped at the sight of Jack rushing in on the scene and seeing his dead mother.  The sight of his grief was enough to break Grubson; it pierced painfully at his heart like acid on a wound.  He watched uncomprehendingly as Jack grabbed his wand from out of Cynthia's hands, placing it in his own and urging him to run. 

Grubson was at a loss, with no idea what he was supposed to do.  The only thing on his thoughts was, how do I undo this?  How do I bring her back?  With a last tearful look at his son, hoping to communicate how sorry he was for everything, he ran like the wind to the only person he felt could help him: Annette's sweet, kind mother. 

He walked determinedly, barefoot in the freezing snow, but his heart was too numb from grief to register the cold.  Cold and physical pain had no meaning for a heart that had lost its will to live.  Moments later, he heard Jack's steps behind him and he waited to let his son catch up.  Grubson simply glanced at his son with sad, distant eyes.  He took his son's hand and together they walked towards Annette's house. 

“Hey!  Grubson!  What's going on?!  I saw...I thought I saw a green ligh -”  It was that despicable Jacob, a colleague of his, and the man he saw kissing his wife.  Grubson's face turned red with anger as he blurted out furiously, “Get out of my way!”  A shot of light exploded from the tip of Grubson's wand, hitting Jacob square in the chest, knocking him off his feet.  The power of the spell was so strong that it sent him flying against a lightpost.  His head hit the hard metal with a loud bang, blood gushing from the head wound. 

“Oh God!!” Grubson yelled, new tears flowing from his already red, grief-worn eyes.   "Is- is he dead too?!"  He ran towards Jacob, feeling for a pulse.  When he couldn't find any, something changed in Grubson's expression.  There was a strange look in his eyes and the sobbing and tears stopped as if someone had shut off the valve.  He took hold of Jack's hand, gripping it tightly.  “Come on.  Let's go to Annette's,” he said, an unnatural calm in his voice, his eyes now distant and expressionless.  “It's over, it's over...” he said, repeating the words like a broken record.  Although Grubson walked on with Jack beside him, sanity was quickly leaving the man, grief and anger having hit him too hard this time. 

“Alohamora,” he said, his voice almost frightening in its monotonous, calm tone.  With the spell unlocking the door, he barged into the house in search for Annette's mother.     

Annette's parent's were asleep and she was downstairs for a bit of late night television. She had heard a bit of shouting coming from outside, but thought nothing of it, probably some of the older teenagers or muggles tooling around. Annette turned her head to the television once again. A bowl of movie theater popcorn sat on her lap, she was glad to indulge in simple muggle microwave popcorn once again.

On commercial, Annette heard a loud click coming from the door. She hit the clicker and the TV went black. She put her bowl to the side, and got up from her place on the sofa. She pushed her pedicured toes into her Batman slippers and shuffled into the hall. Mr. Windell and Jack stood there. Jack's sleeves were ripped and both were barefoot. Mr. Windell's hands were covered in blood.

Annette stood like a deer in the headlights. "Umm.. H- Hi, Jack, M-Mr. Windell, c-can I help you? Her voice quivered with apprehension, something was obviously wrong, that much blood on a person was never a good sign.

Jack felt some safety and security with his father, even though he just killed his mother. For some reason Jack didn't care, it didn't fully sink in yet. Then after seeing what he did to another adult, Jack began to get really scared. Why his father hurting everyone?

It was too late to turn back, his father gripped his hand really hard and almsot dragged him to Annette's house. After barging in he was beginning to replay the events that have happened in his mind, crying again. "My mother is dead from my father, he killed another man also. He is dangerous...so why am I with him?"

"Umm.. H- Hi, Jack, M-Mr. Windell, c-can I help you? Oh no, Jack started trembling, not Annette too. He pulled away from his father and looked directly at him, tears flowing down his face. "Don't kill her too, I don't want to see any more people die."

Grubson stepped into Annette's house, his expression still unnaturally aloof and calm.  “Oh, hello, Annette!  Long time no see,” he said.  “You've grown quite a bit this year, haven't you?” Grubson added cheerfully, giving her a brief pat on the head with his blood-stained hands.  “Go get your mother, will you?  I need to talk to her.”  With a flick of his wand, he lit the kitchen, living room, and hallway of the residence. 

At the sound of Jack whimpering behind him, Grubson patted his head gruffly and accidentally smeared his face with red as he tried to dry his son's tears.  “No need to cry, son.  Annette's mother will help everything be okay!  You'll see.  She's quite a sweet woman!” he said brightly.  “Everything will be juuuuust fine.”     

“Chop, chop!” Grubson barked suddenly, clapping his hands so that Annette would hurry to get her mother.  He shot a spell at Annette's legs, making them walk quickly up the stairs.  “There!  That's more like it!” he yelled with a laugh.  Grabbing Jack's hand, he led him to the sofa and picked up the tv remote.  “What shall we watch?  Something light?  Funny?  How about cartoons?” he said, as he changed channels.  He guffawed loudly as they watched a Bugs Bunny episode.  “Those muggles and their shows!!” he yelled, giggling wildly, slapping his thighs. 

Something had obviously unscrewed in Grubson's brain, the man behaving as though everything was completely peachy.  It's like the father Jack knew had retreated somewhere into the depths of his unconscious, sleeping.  Everything had gone way out of hand.  Unable to deal with reality, Grubson had disappeared, out of sight; some other darker, more dangerous man was now leading the show. 

“This is fun, eh Jack?  A night with your dad, just the two of us, staying up passed out bedtimes?” he said, putting his arm around his son, holding him close, and kissing him on the forehead.  “Yeah, this is what life is about!”

 

"Don't kill her too, I don't want to see any more people die." "I-uh, yea- my- s- My parents are asleep!" Annette stuttered, her eyes filled with worry, she was instantly propelled up the stairs, her legs doing to work against her wishes. "Wha-" Annette was beyond surprise and had passed straight through scared and into terrified. Annette walked past her room, and then clung to the door frame of her brother's room. The top of her head smelled like iron from where Mr. Windell had laid a hand on her hair.

"James!" She hissed. "James, help me! Mr. Windell from down the street is in the living room, there's something wrong, go downstairs! I'll get Mum and Dad." With that, her legs pulled her away from the door. Jim put down his book and grabbed his wand from his bedside table. He heard his parent's rise from their sheets. Slippered feet padding down the hallway. Jim crept down the hall, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet.

He looked over the banister. Jack and Grubson sat on the sofa in the yellow living room. They were watching a cartoon and Mr. Windell laughed and talked to Jack as the boy sat, tears shining on his cheeks. "Mr. Windell, It's very late, I think you should head home." Jim said calmly, walking down the stairs, his wand at his side.

Annette pulled her parent's from their bed. "Come on, something is really wrong!" She said, her father and mother rising from their winter's nap. Her father grabbed his wand and rushed down the hallway after Jim, Brenda in tow.

Jack looked at his father with as if he was looking at a crazy person. Actually his Dad was crazy. Jack began to get really worried when his father smeared his face in blood and forced Annette upstairs.

After awkwardly sitting down and watching a cartoon Jacks Dad starting loosing it “Those muggles and their shows!!” Then his Dad giggled, why was he laughing right now. He's killed his wife and possible another person, barged into someone else house, and is now acting crazy.

“This is fun, eh Jack?  A night with your dad, just the two of us, staying up passed out bedtimes?” followed by a kiss and a hug “Yeah, this is what life is about!”

Jack finally realized that he didn't have a Dad anymore. This wasn't his parent, it was something worse, much worse. Jack jumped off the sofa and began shouting, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! YOUR NOT MY FATHER!" Jack began to tear up, again.

Grubson stared in surprise as his son yelled at him, tears welling in Jack's eyes.  "I..." Grubson was at a loss of words, his son's shrieking, panicked voice reverberating deep within his heart.  As if snapping out of whatever strange, deranged state of mind he was in, Grubson began looking around himself as if trying to understand - or remember - what he was doing in Annette's living room.

"Oh...hey Jim.  Yeah, it is late, isn't it?  Your parents are asleep?  Uh.. can you just see if you can wake your mom?" Grubson began as emotion made his voice tremble uncontrollably.  "I...I'm sorry Jack.  I think I am going crazy," Grubson said, sadness and despair threatening to throw him into another fit of madness.  He rested his head in his hands, rubbing his face, the anxiety in his expression alarming to say the least.   

In a moment, Grubson heard the pitter patter of feet rushing down the stairs and saw Annette's parents standing anxiously, looking down at him as if he were a dangerous, mad criminal.  Which he was, after all.  "I...I think I need help," he said, as he stood up awkwardly, glancing pleadingly at Annette's parents, hoping they would know what to do, how to get him out of this mess... or at least, how to help Jack.  "I've done something...I've done some terrible things tonight," he said, tears spilling rapidly from his eyes as he stumbled despondently onto his knees, sobs shaking his body uncontrollably.