The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow,
And what will the Robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll sit in a barn, and keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

‘When are we expecting Gweneth?’ Luke called from the kitchen. Aberdeen appeared at the foot of the stairs, pulling on her coral-pink cardigan with about the same enthusiasm as she put into everything else these days. ‘She said she’d aim to be here before lunch, so anytime now,’ she replied dully. It wasn’t that she wasn’t looking forward to her sister’s visit; Aberdeen didn’t see either of her siblings very often, so getting to spend time with them was always nice. But every little social interaction felt so draining, so wearying. Aberdeen didn’t understand how anyone could stand her anymore when she couldn’t even stand herself. It had been easier, on the whole, to avoid everyone. Akiva’s phone calls usually went unanswered, and the owl Adon had sent her for Christmas was only let out of the house to stretch his wings.

Then there was how off she’d been feeling lately-- more so than usual. And it wasn’t just her; Luke had been feeling odd too. Like something had changed but neither of them could put their finger on it. Like they had forgotten something important. It was a frustrating, but subdued feeling. Mostly they just pushed it to the backs of their minds, where it hovered restlessly but wasn’t particularly disruptive.

Aberdeen had just hauled herself to her feet to go and see if Luke needed any help with the French toast when the doorbell rang. Signalling to her husband that she’d answer it, Aberdeen went to the door and opened it. Gweneth’s beaming face greeted her. ‘Deenie!’ Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile back at how pleased Gweneth seemed to see her. ‘Hi Gwennie,’ she replied, allowing her younger sister to envelop her in a hug. ‘Come away in.’

‘You’re hair’s grown,’ Gweneth expressed with some surprise. ‘You’re catching up to me!’ Gweneth’s well-groomed brown locks fell to just past her shoulders, complimenting the deep brown eyes that she shared with Aberdeen. That was about all their appearances shared, though; Gweneth was a good few inches shorter than her sister, and nicely rounded where Aberdeen was lean.

Aberdeen scratched the back of her neck self-consciously. ‘Oh, I just haven’t got around to cutting it in some time... Really must do something about it, I don’t suit long hair like you do...’ Truth be told, Aberdeen didn’t much care about her personal appearance these days.

‘Hi Gwen,’ Luke greeted, appearing from the kitchen. ‘How was the trip?’

‘Nae bad,’ Gweneth assured him, giving him a half hug and a peck on the cheek. ‘And how’s my favourite nephew doing?’ She glanced about the room. ‘Where is he?’

‘...Nephew?’ Aberdeen repeated, somewhat nonplussed. There weren’t any kids on their side of the family...

‘Yes, Robin,’ Gweneth answered, looking equally puzzled in response to Aberdeen’s reaction. Aberdeen glanced at Luke, whose mouth had dropped open a little. He didn’t seem to have any better clue as to what was going on than she did.

‘Robin?’ The name... it sounded familiar. It even felt familiar, somehow, as if she was used to saying it. But she couldn’t remember knowing anyone with that name...

‘Yes, Robin.’ Gweneth’s voice was getting a little higher, as though she was starting to realise something was wrong. ‘Two-and-a-half or so. Brown hair. Serious face?’ She looked back and forth between Luke and Aberdeen. ‘W-why are you acting lie you don’t know what I’m talking about? Is-- is this some kind of joke?’

‘I was about to ask you the same thing,’ Luke said. His voice was as calm as it usually was, but much, much quieter.

‘This-- this isn’t funny!’ Gweneth blurted out, and without another word, pushed past both of them and barrelled up the stairs, calling out Robin’s name. Aberdeen stared at Luke, and saw in his face the reflection of her own dawning realisation... But realisation of what? Starting to feel scared-- the first time she had felt scared in months-- she instinctively extended her hand towards Luke. He grabbed it and held on tight.

The sound of opening and closing doors and the frantic thud of footfalls accompanied Gweneth’s calls upstairs, and then she appeared at the top of the stair case, hanging onto the banister as if for dear life. ‘Everything’s gone!’ she shouted. ‘All Robin’s things-- his little bed, his clothes, his toys-- the-- the xylophone from Ellery, the teddy bear I got him for his first birthday, all the books we had when we were kids! What the hell’s going on, Daphne?’ It was a mark of how freaked out Gweneth was that she used her sister’s real name.

‘I-- I don’t know,’ Aberdeen choked out, drawing closer to Luke and grabbing at his shoulder with her free hand. She was suddenly aware of tears rolling down her face, but she didn’t understand why. ‘I don’t know who Robin is!’

‘HE’S YOUR SON!’ bellowed Gweneth, visibly shaking. ‘Did-- did something happen and you don’t want to tell me? What? What happened to Robin?’

‘Gwen, we don’t know what you’re talking about.’ There was a shudder in Luke’s gentle voice that indicated he wasn’t far from tears himself. ‘We don’t know what’s going on. We don’t remember having a son.’

‘You don’t... remember?’ Gweneth was making her way shakily down the stair, white-faced and looking slightly nauseous. ‘This... this isn’t some sick joke?’

‘You think we’d joke about something like this?’ Aberdeen cried out. Her head was starting to spin; she gripped at Luke tighter, and he pulled her closer as though to keep her from falling.

‘But if you dont remember...’ Gweneth was back in the living area with Aberdeen and Luke by this point, looking imploringly at them, as though willing the situation to suddenly make sense.

‘Oh... wait... Deen...’ Luke turned to his wife, horror etched upon his features. ‘There’s a spell... isn’t there? A spell that can...’

‘Oh god,’ whispered Gweneth.

‘The Memory Charm,’ gasped Aberdeen, and suddenly it felt as though the world had fallen out from beneath her. She and Luke had a son. And now he was gone, along with any memory they had of him. It made sense now, this disconcerting feeling that they had, as though they had forgotten something... Oh, but why did it have to be this, why couldn’t it be anything but this?

‘NO!’ she screamed. Blinded by tears, her fists clenched so tight as to whiten the knuckles, Aberdeen wished for the second time in her life for the release of unconsciousness, but once again, it would not come. There was only the pain, the fear... the shame. ‘WHY CAN’T I KEEP THEM OUT OF MY HEAD?’ She collapsed into Luke, sobbing uncontrollably. When he clung to her this time, it was as much for his own comfort as hers. He held onto her as though terrified she’d be taken away too if he let go, and started to quake, tears now flowing freely.

Aberdeen felt a hand on her shoulder that wasn’t Luke’s. ‘Listen to me, I think I have a good idea who it was.’ Gweneth’s voice was harsh and determined; by the sounds of her she was fighting through her own tears. ‘Robin was adopted, his birth mother was Margo Valdaine. Do you... do you remember Margo?’ Aberdeen didn’t feel able to speak, but she nodded. Yes, she remembered Margo, but nothing about her having a baby. ‘You thought the person who killed her was her lover?’ Aberdeen nodded again. This part of her memory, at least, seemed to remain intact. ‘He was Robin’s biological father. You were always worried that he’d try to take Robin. You... you were always so careful...’ her voice cracked and broke off, and Aberdeen squeezed her eyes shut as though that would help to block out the world. ‘So... so you have a prime suspect. N-now. Where do we go from here? What do you want me to do?’

Beneath the pain, Aberdeen felt a small surge of gratitude for her sister. The way she asked what she should do, trying to share in the burden of what action needed to be taken next. It all felt so hopeless, though, when they didn’t even know who Robin’s biological father was...

‘Raynor.’ It was Luke’s voice, resolute now, despite its quietness. ‘We need to contact the Aurors. Right?’

Pulled away from what they didn’t know, and back to what they could be done, Aberdeen leaned back from Luke a little, and nodded. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was hoarse from shouting and crying. ‘Yes, that’s the best thing to do right now. We can send the owl.’ A Patronus Charm was out of the question on this occasion; happy thoughts were the farthest thing from Aberdeen’s mind. ‘Gweneth, you can find and envelope, paper, and pen in the study. Address a letter to Tamis Raynor-- R-A-Y-N-O-R-- at the Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic. Explain was happened. Bare bones is fine. Just make sure to mention who was kidnapped, and that we had our memories modified.’

As Gweneth dashed to the study to comply, Luke carefully maneuvered Aberdeen to the nearest sofa, and sat them both down. Aberdeen leaned against him, suddenly exhausted. She could think of nothing more to say, but Luke seemed to know what she was thinking, because he rested his cheek against her head and softly said, ‘Now don’t you dare go thinking this is your fault.’ Aberdeen was silent for a time, vaguely aware of the sound of Gweneth rummaging around in the study. Finally, her voice still croaky, she told him, ‘I don’t think I’ll have enough time to blame anyone for this. We’ll be too busy trying to fix it.’