Debts and a Delinquent

[Regius Kendall-White]

On the outskirts of Obsidian Harbour, a small terraced house sat along a cobbled path, illuminated by the warm glow of the early morning sun. It looked fairly inconspicuous from the outside. The only thing to suggest something out of the ordinary was the fact the white door was slightly ajar, though not enough to notice from a distance. Apart from that the house seemed very much normal. There was nothing to suggest that the inside of the house looked like the dismal remains of a bomb site, or that on a dusty armchair in the living room sat a sleeping, hungover wreck of a man called Regius. He shifted and grunted slightly as a bottle of unidentifiable alcohol slipped from his grasp, falling to the floor. The dregs of the bottle dripped out, seeping into the already stained carpet.

The rest of Obsidian Harbour had woken, and were beginning to go about their daily business. The footsteps of passers by did little to rouse the sleeping man, who was well and truly unconscious. Amongst the empty bottles and overflowing cigarette trays strewn around him lay piles and piles of books, pieces of parchment, newspapers and empty ink wells. The curtains were so heavy with dust that their original colour was indistinguishable, though one could guess that they were once a vivid orange. The only objects in the room that were free from a thick layer of dust were the photos on the mantelpiece. Photos of a beautiful woman. Photos of three young boys and a girl, grinning away at the camera without a care in the world.

Amongst the mess, Regius Kendall-White continued sleeping peacefully, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. The slow rising and falling of his chest was the only indicator that he was even still alive. Little did he know, he was about to receive the most shocking awakening of his life.

 

[Keira Kendall-White]

Keira's body contorted with shivers as she made her way down the cobbled lane. It wasn't particularly cold, as the sun had risen above the rooftops and was warming the street below, but Keira was scared. A rush of excitement, fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins as she approached the house she now knew to be her parent's. She stopped dead outside the front door, trying to control her shallow breathing. The warning words of her sister rung in her ears, telling her not to go, to forget about them, but something urged her to keep on searching. She knew Francesca would have their address somewhere, and she had been right. Keira hoped she hadn't betrayed Francesca's trust beyond repair in searching through her belongings to find their file.

What sort of people were they going to be? Keira couldn't imagine why on earth they would have left their children in foster care. Not only that, but for 20 years she had believed they were dead. What could have driven them to do that? Keira held her wand by her side, ready to defend herself if necessary. She knew nothing about them, besides what they had done to her and her sister when they were children, and she wasn't going to take any chances. Keira only hoped that they would be decent people with a reasonable excuse for their awful behaviour.

With a firm knock, the white front door pushed open. Someone, it seemed, had accidentally left it ajar, but it felt eerily as though she was expected. Had Francesca realised their file had moved and told their parents to expect her? No. It wasn't possible. She pushed the door open further, quietly creeping in. Immediately, she was hit with the stench of alcohol and smoke. She resisted the urge to cough, not wanting to alert them of her presence just yet. The hallway was dark, with every horizontal surface covered in a thick layer of dust, and there were patches of damp on the walls. Keira grimaced, assuming that nobody had lived here for quite some time. It had to be abandoned. At that moment, a soft grunting noise sounded from the living room on her left. Keira jumped, surprised by the noise, before creeping over to the open door to look inside.

The living room was as dark and dingy as the hallway, with it's lifeless furniture and stained walls and carpet. The smell of smoke was unbearable now, and it had already begun to cling to Keira's clothes. A figure was slumped in an armchair by an old, broken fireplace, snoring gently in his sleep. That is my dad? Keira thought, her heart thumping beneath her chest. She wouldn't have believed it, except that she could see the resemblance of her face in his. She lifted her wand, treading cautiously closer, and was about to disarm him when she stepped on a broken piece of glass. It crunched loudly beneath her shoe, giving her little time to react before the sound woke him.​

 

[Regius Kendall-White]

Regius continued to snore peacefully in his sleep, completely oblivious to the presence of a young woman in his home. Had he been expecting guests, he would have at least tried to make his house look presentable, but the only person who would visit him was Gregory, and he never turned up without a phone call. Who else did he have to keep his house looking nice for? Nobody. Nobody except himself, and he didn't believe he was worth the effort anyway. Regius' house hadn't looked clean since he'd moved back in. By that point, years worth of dust and damp had accumulated across the furniture and walls, and he had deemed it pointless of repair.

Had he been a heavy sleeper, the crunching of glass a few meters behind him may not have been enough to rouse Regius, especially considered how intoxicated he was. But as it happened, he had always been quite a light sleeper. Or at least, he had been since living with Gregory many years ago. It was impossible to be a heavy sleeper with his brother around, and the habit had simply stuck. As soon as the noise sounded, Regius was awake and alert. Not even alcohol could distort his sense of danger, and someone breaking into his house was definitely dangerous. He stood up with a start, shocked to see that it was a young Witch, who was pointing her wand straight at him. Luckily, the broken glass had distracted her from her task and gave Regius a chance to attack. "Stupefy!" He yelled, not waiting to study the woman's face before he launched a spell at her. He was grateful that he had fallen asleep with his wand in his hand.